Olive, 3 months.

Three months old... Why do those three little words create so many emotions in me?

Another month of,
Growing.. becoming less infant-like.
Smiling, giggling and chatting up a storm.
Snuggling.
Yelling, just because she now knows she can.
Dirty diapers, spit up and drool.
Teething. Yes, teething. Crazy, right?
Blowing raspberries every 5 seconds ever since I taught her how.
Pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
Sucking on her fist, fingers, and anything else she can get her tiny hands on.
Walking! With our help, of course, but still.. Walking!
Tears... from me. Knowing that time won't stop for anything, not even my big, sappy tears. 
Love. Heart filling, undying and unconditional love. 

To my little Stinker, 

Yes, I call you stinker. Well, mainly just "stink". Which I know you'll hate when you're older, but that's okay. It's what parents do best, right? 
Anyway, I can't get over how incredible you are. Truly. You amaze me in so many ways. I mean, come on, you're already walking?! Where is my little baby going, because she's vanishing right before my eyes. Also, your little bottom teeth are starting to come in now. I love that you're progressing so quickly, but at the same time, I'm pretty upset. Not because I don't want you to flourish, but because you're growing at such a fast pace. Even your own pediatrician was surprised at how fast you've been progressing, which must be saying something! But please, if you can, slow it down just a tiny bit? I want to cherish every moment I have with you at this itty bitty baby stage, even though they are quite fleeting. 
You give me 10 hours of sleep, minimum, a night. If that's not crazy, I don't know what is. Since day 1 you've been the best sleeper, which I am extremely, extremely, thankful for. Especially since after those 10 hours of sleep, you wake up for about an hour, two tops, and go right back down for another long nap. It's great, really. I am truly blessed that you're such an easy baby. 
You're still exclusively breast fed, and you latch on like a champ. I'm glad we got the whole breast feeding thing down pat the day you were born, because that was one less thing I had to worry about. (I hope whenever we give you a sibling, or two, that they're as easy as you are! Seriously, you're the best.) 
You've starting chatting, a lot... Okay, pretty much constantly. But I love it, and so does your dad. He gets the biggest kick out of your yells, especially the faces you make. Oh, another thing he gets a kick out of? Your toots! (See why I call you "stink", now?) You have the loudest toots for such a tiny little girl. Every time you do it, your dad cracks up laughing. Most likely because he knows that you take after him in that department, which I'm sure you'll come to find out once you get a bit older. 

You are always so full of smiles and giggles, especially when I blow raspberries on your neck (rolls). Yes, you have rolls. But they're cute, I promise you. You also love to blow raspberries now too. You and I always go back and forth with that, and you love it. 
You're very much a mama's girl, which I love, of course. Not a second goes by in a day where your eyes aren't locked onto me, wherever I am. And if I'm not in your view... well, let's just say that you get a little crabby. Okay, not just a little. You pretty much have a full blown conniption fit. But it's okay, I take it as a compliment. 
You and I have a very, very special bond. At times, I feel like we even have conversations, without saying a word. You make me smile and laugh about a 1,000 times a day. And even now as I write this, you bring a tear to my eye. All because I love you so much, and I can't picture my life without you. You're my everything; the very beat in my heart. You gave my life meaning the second I held you in my arms.
You're my daughter, yes, but you're also my best friend. And it will be that way, forever. 

You are my heart, little one. I love you. 

xo, Jess.

October 10th, 2010.

*I started writing this post yesterday, but was unable to finish it due to a needy little Olive. But this post was meant to be for yesterday's Pregnancy And Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

I'm going to set aside my usual goofy, sarcastic self for a minute and actually write a serious post, for once.

This post is about my miscarriage, exactly one year and five days ago. 

I wasn't going to share this, or make it known that it happened at all, but I have to. Because it's a part of my past, and most importantly, a part of me. Also, today is the day to remember these little souls that found their way to Heaven sooner than expected. 

I was only 6 weeks along or so when it happened. I know that that's "barely pregnant" in some people's eyes, but not to me. To me, that itty bitty baby already had a soul, a life, and a place in my heart.

The moment I found out a million thoughts rushed through my head. "I wonder if it'd be a girl or a boy?!", "What would we name him/her?" "What theme would the baby shower be?" "I wonder when his/her birthday will be!"

I went a little thought crazy, I know, but I couldn't help it. You just can't stop thoughts like that the second you see those two pink lines. You start planning everything... planning their life. Because in your mind, that little bean has 9 short months then it'll be in your arms and all will be right in the world in that moment. 

But, and sadly there is a but.. that didn't happen. I lost that little bean on October 10th, 2010, at around 7pm. 

I didn't know what was happening at first. I just had heavy cramping that didn't seem to be easing up. I figured it was what everyone called "implantation bleeding". Now I know, implantation bleeding happens within the first 2 weeks, so I was a little naive. But, can you blame me? I didn't think that a baby could be taken from you so quickly. 

Once the intense pain came, I knew something was wrong. Then the bleeding and the realization of what was really happening. Then came the tears, lots and lots of tears.

I'll never forget that day, ever. It was one of the hardest days, emotionally and physically. It was nothing close to labor, but that pain is something I never hope to have to feel again. That day I lost a little piece of my heart, to God. 

I got pregnant with O one month later. So with great loss, comes great gain. She's my little blessing, and I'm overjoyed with the fact that she is now in my life. I'll never forget my other little baby, but O has made the loss easier to bear. Because I know that O has a little brother or sister, and that one day, we'll get to meet. And then my heart will be whole again. 


RIP little one, I love you.




xo, Jess.

Day 8, The Future. 31 Days of Being A New Mom

I sometimes (Okay, often) (..Okay, really, really often) think about the future. 

What will O be like? Will she still be a sweet, little girl? I sure hope so. I'd like to think that I wouldn't bring up a little menace, but that seems to happen sometimes, even with the best of parenting. I've seen it, first hand. And that's what scares me to death.

Will she still like me? ..Better question, will I still be her favorite? 

Will she still find time for me? 

And then I think, will she take all of my advice? Or will she be like me, and insist on learning everything on her own. 

Will she be like me? Not that that's a bad thing, at all. I was actually a very good kid, from what I've been told. 
Or will she be like her father? 

Will she be bullied in school? And if so, how in the heck am I going to deal with that? I can't exactly go rampaging through the school, find the child's parents and yell at them... I say this, because my mom did that very thing when I was bullied.. It made things 100x worse, in case anyone was wondering.

Is she going to be one of those teenagers that sneaks out at night? And hides things from me? God, I hope not. I'm not sure I'd be able to handle that. 

Or will she be the kind of teenager that is more into schoolwork, and puts socializing on the back burner. 

Is she going to be a picky eater and want only chicken nuggets every day of her life? Or will she actually be a well-rounded eater and enjoy the vegetables. (Doubt it..but hey, I can dream, right?)

I think of all of these things, and more, on a daily basis. Because I am absolutely scared to death of the future. I'm excited to see how she's going to grow up, don't get me wrong. But there's a good and bad side to everything in life.. especially children growing up.

You can't force them into being the person you want or expect them to be. It doesn't work like that. I was the victim of one of those very situations, where my dad wanted me to be something I would never, ever be. He had such high expectations of me. Which wasn't a bad thing, but he took it to a whole other level. He made me want to rebel, and I normally wouldn't have had those feelings if it hadn't have been for him. 

Being a mom, a parent in general, is a really difficult thing. You have to try and mold your child into a respectable adult without the molding... How is that even possible? You have to try and guide them in the right way; give them a little push in the right direction. But what if they don't take it? 

Gosh, I'm getting ahead of myself here. I think a case of word vomit has ensued, and I apologize. But see? My worries of the future, right there, in black and white. I need to learn to just let things happen, "go with the flow", as they say. Everything will happen just how it's supposed to. All I'm meant to do is go along for the ride and to always be easily accessible emotionally and physically. That's it, really. And I need to remember this, forever. 

Olive, please.. stay little for just a little longer. Because I'm not sure I'd be able to handle you getting bigger right now. 

xo, Jess.

Day Seven, No Such Thing As "Too Much". 31 Days of Being A New Mom

*I'm a little behind, so please bear with me. This week has been a rather rough one, since O is in the midst of another growth spurt. So my time is rather preoccupied, to say the least. I'm doing my best to catch up whenever I can! 

Some people say that you can love your child "too much." 

Too much? Is there even such a thing? I don't believe it. 

I love my child as much as the next mother, a lot. But under no circumstances would I say I could ever love her too much. 

I love O from the moon and back, from sun up to sun down, from East to West, etc, etc. But it's true. And I don't think that any of that is "too much."

I believe that a person can love a material, a thing, "too much".. but never a child. A child deserves all the love in the entire world, and that still wouldn't be enough. 

When that someone (and that someone shall remain anonymous) told me that, that whole "too much" bologna... I was in awe. What do you say to that? "Yeah, you're right?" ...Now anyone that knows me, knows that I'm honest. Really honest. Sometimes to the point where it gets me into trouble. I can't help it, I'm a horrible liar. 

So what do I do? The only thing I know how to do. Be honest. 

"You're clearly not a mother." That's all I had to say, because it was true. 

If you're not a mother, or a parent, you just.don't.understand. And that's all there is to it. Because once you become a parent, you do love your kid "too much". You can't help it- it comes naturally. 

So when/if someone says that you love your child "too much", be proud of that. Be proud of the fact that people see just how much you love your children, even if they label it as "too much". That means that you're a mom, and a damn good one at that. 

                                      

xo, Jess.

Doing it.

That's it, I've decided. I'm going to start my plan of becoming fit, again. 

This will about the..oh, 4th time now? I thought the last time I did it, that it would be the time it would "stick". Because, I finally had healthy eating and working out down pat. I had no problems, no slip ups, and I was truly happy. Honestly, I was.

But... (there's always a but, isn't there?), it all came back on. The 40-50lbs I had worked so hard to lose was back. And bigger than ever. Not because I became lazy or careless, because I got sick. Really, really sick. It was my Senior year of high school, and I was stuck on bed rest for 3 months. Now, you all know the last 3 months of Senior year. Prom, yearbook pictures, the whole 9. Yeah, I wasn't there for half of that. And it killed me. 

The doctors weren't sure what was wrong with me. Heck, I wasn't sure what was wrong. And still, to this day, neither of us know what exactly what it was that brought me to be put on bed rest. All I know is that it's happened a three or four times now, throughout the span of my life. And each time, it gets a little worse. It's scary.. really, really scary, but it's something I've learned to accept and live with. 

The pain eventually went away, I was able to start walking around more. Start living again, pretty much. But it just wasn't the same. I wasn't the same. I was big. Bigger. Because I had spent the last 2 months (When I was able to eat again), just eating. Everything.. literally. I had no self control, at all. I was miserable. I mean, come on.. If you can't walk or do anything, what else is there to do? So, of course, I ate. Watched the same tv shows every single day, and ate. I still can barely watch tv without wanting to scarf down everything in sight. It's sad, I know. 

And ever since my Senior year of high school, 3 years ago, I have been getting bigger... and bigger. From the weight I was before I got sick, I have gained a total of 95lbs. It honestly makes me break down and cry just typing it out.

I'm unhappy.. depressed, even. I can't help it. I hate my body image. I have zero confidence. And what hurts even more is that I have one, literally one, picture of me with Olive. That makes me cry even more. Because when I look back at these pictures, pictures of her or her and Vaughn, I'm going to regret not having any pictures of her and I. 

I need to do this. And not even just for myself, for Vaughn and Olive. They're the reason that I'm going to do this, because they're the one's that deserve it. Vaughn deserves a happier me. A me that doesn't include being a nag, or not wanting to be intimate because I'm afraid of how he'll see me.

 I cry, a lot, because of how I look. I thought that after I had Olive, the weight would fall off of me. Wrong. It didn't even trickle off of me. It just..stayed. So far I've only lost 20lbs. Now that might seem like a lot to most people, but not to me. Because I gained a total of 50lbs when I was pregnant with O, and I was already 20+ lbs heavier before that. I had let myself go, and I accepted it. 

I want to create a new me, the old me, because I deserve it as well. I want to be happy again. I want to be able to be in pictures, not always behind them. I want to love my body, and feel sexy. Yes, I said it, sexy. Because whether we say it or not, we all want it. 

So, this is the turning point. This is when I change my life for the better. Yeah, I know, it's really close to the holidays. Which is definitely going to be a challenge. But if I can break through that enormous barrier, I can do anything. I'm going to start tracking things on here, so that I have something to hold me accountable. I feel like it'll help, a lot. And so, goodbye overweight, obese, fat Jess. I can honestly say that you are not going to be missed. Not one bit. 

xo, Jess.

Day Six, Stop worrying: 31 Days of Being A New Mom

The title says it all.. Stop worrying.

Why? Because there are a million mothers and fathers in the world that understand.

That get why you go to the store and forget that you have baby puke on you. 

That sympathize with the fact that you haven't had a shower in 2 days and you haven't worn makeup in God know's how long.

That understand when you're just too tired to clean the house. 

That will agree with you about having take out 4 out of the 7 days in a week. 

That think that putting a kid in real clothes, not just jams, is completely acceptable. 

That realize that you may leak during a conversation and not know.. Or just not care. 

That know why it takes you nearly an extra hour (or two) to get anywhere. 

And you know what? They don't care. Because they've been there; they've dealt with it themselves. And for the people who haven't.. who cares? They'll go through it one day, and when/if they do, they'll understand as well. 

Mothers, especially including myself, care too much about what others think. I find myself thinking that if I just had a few more hands, I could handle it. The house would be clean, dinner on the table, O and I would be washed and dressed in something other than jams. That I'd have the dishes done, and the clothes washed, folded and put away. 

But those things are never going to happen, because I will never, ever have an extra set of hands... Unfortunately. So I just have to make due with everything being half-assed (excuse my French!), because that's all I can seem to do these days. 

The one thing I need to keep in mind, and everyone else as well, is that people will understand. No one is going to judge you on your appearance when you have one, two, or more, kids in tow. Life happens. Kids happen. It's just a part of your new, messy, unorganized life. 

And for the mom(s) that can manage all of the above things? Good for you! You're awesome and you should be really, really proud of yourself. Because I know that I sure as heck can barely manage one of those things on that list without wanting to rip my hair out. You're wonder woman, and I really wish that you'd show me some of your skills. Please. 

But for everyone else like me? It's okay. You're okay. Everything is okay. The house isn't going to fall to pieces because it's not clean, and your not going to melt if you don't get your daily shower. Spend extra time with your little one because sooner rather than later, they're going to be big. "Grown up", and you're going to wish that they were still itty bitty. So cherish these dirty, sticky, messy moment, because they're the only ones your going to get. 


xo, Jess.

Two months old.

Olive, you are officially two months old! Even though we just snuggled on the couch in attempts to get over this horrible cold we both have, I wouldn't have wanted the day to be spent any other way. You're growing up, so fast. I cherish every moment I get with you, especially on your most cuddly days. Because I know you won't be a baby for long, even though in my eyes, that's what you'll forever be. My baby. I love you Olive Jae, always.

Hair and eyes: Good news, she has more hair now! It's still pretty much peach fuzz, and so pale to the point where you barely even notice it's there, but it's still there! And it's still blonde. Not sure if it'll stay that way, but we shall see. And her eyes are still exactly like mine. Which I am rather happy about, since it's about the only thing she takes from me. Well..that and my grumpy face. She does that a little too well.

Weight: Still not sure about her weight since her doctor's visit isn't until the 15th of this month, but I can tell that she's chubbin' up. Quite a bit too. Looking at old pictures of her, I'm able to see just how much she's changed. It's incredible how quickly they grow over a 2 month period. I can't wait to see her at 3 months!

Height: Tall as tall can be. At the rate she's going, she'll be taller than her dad! She's already  out of 0-3 month clothes, because they are just too dang short. And the 3 month clothes are just long enough on her, so I'm sure she'll be growing out of those soon too. 

Diapers: Still in a size 1. Not much has changed in that department. Going through them like crazy.. But what baby doesn't?

Eating: Exclusively breast feeding still, but she's finally taken a bottle! We now feed her a bottle of BM once a day, just to continue getting her used to it. And you know what bottle she actually took? A generic brand, of course. Because those stupid, expensive Tommee Tippee's are clearly too mainstream. Oh well, I'm not complaining. I'll go for cheaper any day.

Sleeping: She's slept through the night twice now! I figured it was because she was sick, the first time she did it. But nope! She did it last night as well. Which makes me a rather happy camper, since all I've really been wanting to do is..? You guessed it, sleep. Being sick kind of screwed things up for a bit though. She was staying awake longer than usual, which was not fun. But now she's back to her normal schedule, 9:30-7am. It's a good stretch of sleep, and I hope it stays! Still co-sleeping too, by the way. 

Milestones: She giggled at me yesterday! When I was playing around with her hands and feet. It was the most adorable thing I have ever heard (I'm only a little biased, I promise). This past month she has amazed me even more. She already has so many facial expressions and a sweet little personality. She is a momma's girl, of course. I think that's also partly because I'm the one that provides sustenance.. But I don't normally admit that, haha. When your baby is crying and the second you hold them, they stop crying.. It's literally the best feeling in the entire world. It makes you feel needed, wanted, and loved. It makes you special.

She's definitely starting to look more like me. Still looks a lot like Daddy-o though, but I'm not complaining. She is the complete opposite of him color-wise though. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale as pale can be. She definitely takes after me in that department! We'll see if it actually sticks. 

This is one of my favorite photos. Vaughn didn't know I snapped this picture, but I had to. Olive was being fussy, and Vaughn was doing his usual goofy voices. He was trying to get her to calm down in his Donald Duck voice. You can see by her face that she wasn't so sure about it. 

I love my little family. 

xo, Jess.

We're back!.. Sort of.

Well, good news... we're back! Ish. And by "ish" I mean, we're still a pretty sickly bunch. 

But, I'm actually feeling alive. So that makes the day a win, right? It does in my book, at least. 

Olive has been able to get pretty much everyone in our house sick. She has some skills, I'm tellin' ya. I was the first victim, of course. I swear, she's just like her father.. Always scheming.

Anywho, I'll catch up on my two days worth of blogging for 31 days. Even though I've been sick, I have managed to think up some post ideas. So I'm pretty excited to catch up! 

Also, Olive is officially 2 months old as of yesterday! Yay! There shall be a post of that soon, and pictures too. 

Hope everyone is having a wonderful Tuesday!



xo, Jess.

Not getting down with the sickness.

Just an update, Olive and I are sick. Well, I wasn't sick at first... but you know how that goes. Olive came down with a cold yesterday, all stuffy nosed and coughing to beat the ban. But, surprisingly, still in great spirits. Which was nice. But as of this morning, I am also stuffy nosed and coughing to beat the ban... Also, add on a massive headache that will not go away, and feeling like the walking dead. 

So I'm going to catch up on the 31 days when I get back to feeling alive. Because right now I can barely take care of Olive. It's sad, I know. I want to still be a grade A mom, but, it's hard when all you want to do is sleep and sleep some more. But, I'm not doing that. I'm chugging mass amounts of coffee, taking vitamins and Tylenol, and doing my best to comfort this sweet, sick little girl. 

But, until the day comes when I rise from the dead.. I bid you adieu.  

xo, Jess.

Best Banana Bread Recipe from Pinterest

This is seriously, by far, the best banana bread I've ever had. I would have taken a picture of it, but it was so good that it was gone within minutes after baking it. Yeah, it was THAT good. 

I came across this recipe on good ol' Pinterest (Where else does anyone find great recipes these days, ha), and why did I choose it out of all the other millions of banana bread recipes? Well, because... Look at the title. "The BEST Banana Bread".. I couldn't not try it! I had to figure out if it was really "the best". And let me tell you.. it is. 

I will definitely be repeating this recipe many, many times. Vaughn is already asking when I'll make it again, so I think I'll be repeating it quite soon! 

Ingredients:

1 cup sugar

1/2 cup oil

2 eggs

1 cup mashed ripe bananas

1/2 cup sour cream

1 tsp. vanilla

1 1/2 cup flour

1 tsp. baking soda

1/2 tsp. salt

Heat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease and flour bottom only of a loaf pan (or use 3 small loaf pans).  In large bowl, beat together sugar and oil.  Add eggs, bananas, sour cream and vanilla; blend well.  Lightly spoon flour into measuring cup; level off.  Add flour, baking soda and salt; stir just until dry ingredients are moistened.   Pour into prepared pan.  Bake at 350 degrees for 50-60 minutes (about 40 minutes for smaller loaf pan) or until toothpick inserted in center comes clean.  Cool 5 minutes; remove from pan.  Cool completely.  Wrap tightly and store in refrigerator.  Makes 1 loaf.

And voile! Delicious banana-y goodness for you to enjoy, and lust for. I'm actually making some more of this today! As well as trying out a new coffee cake recipe.. Why, you ask? Because of the title.. of course, "Best Coffee Cake Ever." 

That "best" does me in every time! Happy baking! :-)

xo, Jess.

Day Five, Mama Bear Mode: 31 Days of Being A New Mom.

I wasn't quite prepared for the rush of emotions that come after having a child. My mom tried her best to explain them to me in the only way she could, "It's like a mama bear protecting her cub." 

Mama bear mode... that sounds a bit crazy, no? 

It's crazy, yes. But very, very true. No matter how hard you try to be "normal" again, it just doesn't happen. Your spirit animal now is a ginormous, 500lb grizzly bear. Which is hard for me, since I'm normally a rather calm, easy going person. But when it comes to Olive? Yepp, 500lb grizzly bear sounds about right. 

It all happens in the blink of an eye too.. You just snap. 

I'll give you an example, just for shits and giggles (It's just a figure of speech people). As I said in an earlier post, my cat Pip, believes that Olive's crib is his own gigantic kitty bed. The second he comes inside, the very first thing he does, is jump up into her crib and make himself at home. Now usually, I'm just sort of mad.. Aggravated, for a better word. 

She's not normally in her crib that much during the day, since the living room is rather far away so we wouldn't be able to hear her. 

Anyway, on this particular day, I was cleaning up our bedroom and she was in her crib sleeping. Someone let Pip inside, and of course.. what does he do? Comes barreling out of NOWHERE and jumps right on top of her. YEAH. 

In a split second I went from my normal self to mama bear mode, ripped Pipsqueak off of her, tore open the door and flung him outside. All within a matter of seconds. 

...I have never been so angry in my entire life. And sadly, I'm not kidding. I could have killed him in that moment without a second thought. 

Mama bear mode is definitely real, and an every day part in every mom's life. No matter how old their children get, that mama bear is still ready to rip anything that threatens their cubs life to death. You just need to embrace it, and know that it's a sign of love. Because, that's exactly what it is.. Undying, unconditional love. 

I never understood it, and often thought it meant that mom had a few screws loose.. but I get it now. You can't help it, it just happens. Because if something ever happened to that little bitty baby of yours, you would die. 

So, you do the only thing you know how to do, the instinctual thing.. become a mama bear. 

xo, Jess.

Day 4, Just A Pet: 31 Days of Being A New Mom.

Anyone that has been following me on Instagram knows that my cat, Pipsqueak, was my absolute everything. 

Keyword: Was.

Ever since Olive came along, Pip has become "just a pet". He's not my baby anymore, or my "one and only". He's just the cat of the house that roams around and terrorizes everything. 

Towards the end of my pregnancy, Pip became a whole new animal. A beast. I mean, he was always fiesty and very much a menace, but he was still a rather sweet cat. But a month or two before I had her, and still continuing on to this day, he's an absolute hellion.



Purposely knocking things over, attacking her crib, attacking EVERYTHING, scratching the couch to pieces, jumping all over Vaughn's music gear (Which is a huge no-no), tearing at the curtains, attacking people's ankles, jumping up on the counter, digging through the compost bin, and the one that annoys me the absolute most.. Jumping into Olive's crib, thinking it's his own extremely large cat bed. Yeah... YEAH. 

Any mom will agree with me on that one (at least I hope)- Smelly, dirty outdoor cats do not go in a baby's crib. That's all there is to it. Especially since he eats and plays with dead animals all day long. And sadly, I'm not even exaggerating.. This cat kills everything that he can possibly get his paws on. Birds, mice, moles, squirrels, rabbits, a baby possum once. Yeah, this cat is a full blown killer now.

I feel bad, because he didn't start acting like this until he wasn't the center of attention anymore. The day we brought Olive home... Oh god, it was all hands on deck to handle this cat. I'm not even kidding. He flipped. It was a very, very scary and sad thing to come home to. 

But he can't come first anymore. And as much as he hates it, things have changed. My one and only now, is Olive. All of my time and effort goes into a sweet little girl, not a pesky menace of a cat. And that's just what he is to me now, a cat. Nothing more, nothing less.

Most of the time he's outside now, because we can't really trust him inside anymore. But on those rare occasions where he is sweet, all curled up and purring on my lap while the baby is napping, I feel what I once felt towards him. It's still there, but it's just been placed on the back burner. 

xo, Jess.

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Day Three: 31 Days of Being A New Mom

My weight has been my mortal enemy since before I could even remember. 

I was a chubby girl when I was younger, and I had the hardest time dealing with it. I was constantly fixated on the fact that I was big. Huge, in my opinion. Because that's how it always is, right? You always feel like you're bigger than you actually are. Like your tiny, barely even there, love handles are the most noticeable in the world. Or your so-called "thunder thighs" are the size of mountains and no matter what you do or how you dress, they just.won't.change. 

Yeah. That was my outlook for pretty much my entire life. No matter what I did, or how much weight I lost, I was still that "fat kid". 

My mom came to the conclusion that I had what she called a "fat head". Because back when I considered myself fat? I was not fat at all. 

I look back at myself at that age, at that weight, and I'm like, "What in the hey was I thinking?! I was so skinny! Look at my legs! I thought those were fat?!" 

Heck, if I could look half as good as I did back then, during my "fat kid" stage, I would be one happy camper. Because, let's be honest, I am a lot bigger than I have ever been. If I was as big as I am now, back then, I'm not sure what I would have thought. I probably would have had an anxiety attack or something, and just plain ol' died. Because back at that age, weight was everything to me. Self image, yadda yadda. 

Now? Well, it's a whole different story. I still dislike my self image, on an extreme level, but I've somewhat come to terms with it. Not in the sense that I'm going to give up ever trying to lose weight and just become even more of an enormous blob. Because trust me, I do not want to be like this forever. 

But I've accepted the fact that my body isn't going to be like how it used to be. My skin isn't going to be as tight and my hips will never be how they were. But, that's okay. Why, you ask? Because this body of mine pushed out a tiny human being. Now if that isn't an excuse for being a little chunky, I don't know what is.  

When I was pregnant I had a really rough time accepting the fact that my body was changing, and fast. Because, let's face it, you go from normal you... to "oh my God" sized you, in less than a year. That's one heck of a transformation! 

But with having a child, comes changes. In your lifestyle, marriage, bank account, and especially, your body. It's something to be proud of though, tiger stripes and all. Because you went through one of the most rewarding, yet exhausting, things that anyone can go through.

You made, grew and gave life to another person. 

So, with that said, I try and be a little less critical about my body. And I think every mother should as well. Things will shift back to how they were and you'll look a little more like you and less like the "oh my God" sized you. But it takes time. And even though you won't look as great as you once did, it won't matter. Because you'll have that little pride and joy stumbling along next to you, and that right there, is something to be proud of. 

xo, Jess.

Day Two: 31 Days of Being A New Mom

*I'm trying to play catch up since I couldn't find time to post yesterday. Too many errands and dr appts, and not enough time in the day to get them done.

My life has changed drastically since I had Olive, and without a doubt, for the better. But there have been times where I think "What if I didn't have her?" or "I really, really miss my old, carefree life." 

Then I think about it... Why do I miss that? 

The life where I was so sick of being single and not being able to have someone to love. To not have "the one". To go out somewhere and for as far as the eyes could see, are couples. Holding hands, lovey dovey, happy as can be, couples. 

The life where I was constantly feeling like I wasn't special. That I could never do anything right. That no matter how much I did, I could never seem to gain the acceptance of people. Especially my own father. 

The life where I was fighting a losing battle, against myself. I was never happy. It's easy to look back now and think "Wow, I had it good. Things were so easy- no responsibilities, nothing to tie me down. I was as free as a bird." Yeah right. My life was probably more chaotic back then, because I made it that way. I chose to not be happy. Even though happiness was the one thing I truly wanted.

The life where I felt like I had no purpose, no real meaning. That everyone had their special talent, or their "thing" in life.. I didn't. There was nothing that really sparked my interest for that long. I tried everything, from archery to debate team to cheerleading.. Nothing. I always felt out of place. The odd man out. The black sheep. I felt like a nobody.

The life where that "party lifestyle" did absolutely nothing for me. I hated it. I wanted something more. I wanted my life to be more meaningful, more concrete. Not just a life filled with endless nights spent watching people in a drunken stupor. That to me, is not my kind of fun.

My kind of fun is waking up to my sweet, blue-eyed daughter smiling the second we lock eyes. It's being able to spend the night watching movies and drinking hot chocolate with Vaughn while Olive plays and giggles in her swing. It's watching Vaughn and Olive during her tummy time, and seeing how much they adore one another. It's being able to come home from the gym, from anywhere, and knowing that I'll have two smiling, happy faces waiting for me. It's snuggling up with Olive while we're settling down for bed, and watching her be completely at peace.

These are the moments that I live for, that I've been waiting for. So.. why on Earth do I miss my old life?

I forget sometimes that, this is what I wanted. What I longed for. And now, I finally have it. I have a purpose, a meaning, a reason to wake up in the morning. My calling, is being a mom. That's my talent, my "thing".

Motherhood has changed me, molded me into a better version of myself. A happier version. A version where everything I need is right here in this house. And I am forever thankful of that. 

Now, my old life? Pfft. That's old news. 

This is all I'll ever need. 

xo, Jess.

Day One: 31 Days of Being A New Mom

Olive is 7 weeks today.. 7 weeks of growing, developing, learning. She's become quite a character already too. She's full of smiles, giggles and happy yells. Especially in the morning.

One thing about being a new mom is, patience. You need lots and lots of it. Because the first couple weeks aren't easy, even with an extremely easy baby, like Olive. 

She only wakes up once at night now, has been on a eating/sleeping schedule since she was 4 weeks, and is usually always a happy camper. 
But whenever she is cranky.. I get frustrated. Because if she's having a cranky day..nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to change her mood. Her cranky day consists of being fussy, eating and sleeping. And even when she's eating or sleeping, she's still fussy. 

And I never realize it at the time, that my frustration is irrational and that I need to be patient. That she's really not that bad. But hey, like I said earlier, I'm new at this. 

It's not easy to be patient when your kid just won't stop crying. No matter what you do, or how much you hold, hug, and love her, she doesn't calm down. And having a kid that isn't normally a fussy gal... Well, I'm pretty much at a loss when she gets to being a crank. And I get frustrated because I feel like I'm doing something wrong, that I'm being a bad parent. Even though that's not true, at all.. a fussy child just makes your brain go somewhat loopy. 

But, I've been learning to be patient. One step at a time, I suppose. On those rare cranky occasions I've been doing and trying different things. Eating different meals, cutting out different foods. Just to see if it's something I'm doing. 

I've also developed a routine during those days, where Vaughn tries different things for a while so that I can go off and unwind for a bit. It really helps, to be honest. Just being away for that short amount of time, 10-15 minutes max, is a god send. Because in that time I reevaluate things and try to come up with a reason as to why she's being fussy, that way I can find a solution. 

Working as a team is one way to definitely master patience. Because, as a team, you come to find the solution faster than just doing it by yourself. And, you end up not getting as frustrated and aggravated as you normally would. Which, in time, makes you more patient.