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.

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.

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.

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.

31 days: of being a new mom.

Well, it's officially the first of October.. Wow. And there's also another special thing about today, Olive is 7 weeks old. My little girl, already becoming not so little. She's already getting chunkier and rollier (Being a new mom consists of new words, constantly).

But with being a new mom, comes new problems. As with anything else in life, you need to learn to adjust to this new lifestyle. It takes a while, but it gets easier with every passing day.   And it's a good thing it gets easier every day because the problems seem to pile up more and more each day, as well. 

Being a young mom was not something I planned for, but it is something I have grown to be extremely thankful for. I learned and changed so much the day Olive was born. Nothing else matters to me now, but her. The love for a child is unexplainable and the bond is unbreakable. I find myself constantly worrying, laughing, smiling, and in awe. Life has become a whole different ball game, all because of one little, yet incredible, life. Because she is my life, forever.

These 31 days are going to be filled with love, laughter and learning things to be a better mom each and every day. I can't wait to share them with you, and I hope you join this project as well! 

Want to check it out and possibly link up? Click here.

Day One: Having patience
Day Two: Why do I miss that?
Day Three: Cutting yourself some slack
Day Four: Just a pet
Day Five: Mama bear mode
Day Six, Stop worrying
Day Seven, No Such Thing As Too Much
Day Eight, The Future

xo, Jess.