Small Town

"I was born in a small town," but that's the only similarity that John Cougar Mellencamp and I have.  I high tailed it out of that town at the ripe age of 17, and I have no desire to ever reside there again.  It's not that I dislike the town or the people that continue to call it home, but small town living isn't for everyone.  It sure as hell isn't for me.

I had a memorable childhood which consisted of countless sleepovers, riding bikes around town, prank calling boys, and constantly seeking one adventure after another.  I was out the door after breakfast and back in just before dark.  My childhood was amazing.  My teen years, not so much.

As a teen living in a town that shuts down at 8:00 p.m., I was forced to resort to any means necessary in order to entertain myself.  I was restless and bored which led to poor life choices, damaged friendships, and a reputation that I wasn't proud of. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't a trouble maker or a juvenile delinquent.  I was a good girl who came from a loving home and went to church every Sunday.  I just couldn't wait to escape that small town and all of the drama that encompassed it.

The summer after graduation felt never ending, which prompted me to leave for college as soon as the dorms opened.  Upon arriving, I didn't take into account the fact that I only knew a handful of people at the University and none of them lived remotely close to me. Classes hadn't even begun and I found myself so lonely I couldn't stand it.   I called my mom sobbing every day because I was absolutely miserable.  I thought I had made the wrong choice, and I wasn't sure I was strong enough to make it on my own. I didn't miss my hometown, but I missed its familiarity. I missed my family and the comfort that came from living in a small town. It's hard to walk down the halls of a dorm room and not know a single person or eat every meal by yourself in a cafeteria full of strangers.  It's even harder going days on end without seeing a single person you know. My mom assured me that things would get better, and she was right. Eventually, I made friends.  One by one, little by little. And the phone calls to my mom became less and less. I finally began to feel like I wasn't just getting by, but I was building a life for myself.

Looking back 12 years later, it turns out that moving away and starting a new life outside of those city limits was the best thing that ever happened to me.  It forced me to step out of my comfort zone on multiple occasions, to befriend people I never thought I would, and to challenge myself with new experiences (some of which changed my world forever). My eyes had been opened to endless possibilities, and there was no way I could go back to the life I had previously known.

And while this path that I have chosen suits me to a T, my sister is just the opposite.  She has created a life in that small town that she absolutely loves. She works at a local business, her children go to the same school we went to, and everyone knows her by name.  Even though we come from the same upbringing, we are complete opposites, which just goes to show that what works for one person doesn't always work for another.  And that's okay.  I've learned that you have to find what works for you.  The drama and hardships will follow you wherever you go (unfortunately, those are just a part of life), but you can choose how you handle them. Where you decide to live doesn't really matter, because if you're happy and surrounded by the people that you love, you will be always feel at home.

Photo courtesy of Crystal Arellano Photography. You can check out the rest of her beautiful work here. 

O.N.E.

On September 27, we woke to the most beautiful weather - blue skies, sun shining, and 75 degrees. We also woke to a baby with runny eyes, a runny nose, and an "I just want to go back to bed" attitude. The poor thing was miserable, but alas it was her birthday and we were determined to make the most of it. My mom and I spent far too long in the kitchen Friday night, but we had a table full of treats ready for our party guests to enjoy. My dad and husband were on decoration duty, so I sent them outside with a drawing of my vision and a tote full of decorations and told them to get to work. While we prepped the food and the men blew up balloons, the tot was fast asleep in her crib. I knew a long nap was our only shot of her making it through the party, and, thankfully, she crashed instantly. At that point, I was pleasantly surprised by how well everything was coming together.

 

By 1:30 the food was ready, the tables were set up, and the bounce house was inflated. Taylor woke from her nap just in time to put on her birthday outfit and take a few quick photos before our guests arrived. However, just as I was handing her off to my dad so that I could greet our guests, I heard her scream bloody murder. And she didn't stop. She wailed until we finally took her outside and put her in the bounce house. And then came the smiles! She was so happy just sitting there watching the other kids bounce and go down the slide. Who knew?!

In order to contain her happiness, I quickly encouraged everyone to head toward the food table. I strapped the tot in her high chair, gave her a handful of strawberries, and sat down to engage in one of the few conversations that I would have during the entire party. I no longer turned my head and Taylor's white shirt and gold tutu were covered in red. But that was the least of my worries. Five seconds after she finished eating, the tears started again. She was fading fast which meant that it was time to expedite the cake smash. We tore off her strawberry-stained shirt, attempted to light the candle (which I never was successful at), and sang a quick rendition of 'Happy Birthday'. She stared absent-mindedly throughout the song, but as soon as I sat the cake down in front of her she lit up! What started as a couple of fingers in the icing soon turned into an entire face plant into the cake. Our tot did not disappoint!

After we decided that she had enough sugar for a lifetime day, we dug her out of the crumb-filled highchair, stripped off her tutu, and headed straight to the bathtub. Ten scream-filled minutes later, she was dressed and back outside to open presents (which was the last thing she wanted to be doing). I opened her gifts as quickly as I possibly could, throwing out thank you's as I wiped Taylor's nose and tried to contain her on my lap. As soon as the gifts were opened, we let her play in the bounce house a little longer. We knew she needed a nap, but I wasn't about to make her miss playtime with her friends on her birthday. After all, I'm pretty sure that was the only part of the day that she truly enjoyed (aside from the cake).

Here's our tot giving true meaning to the phrase "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to."

As our guests started to leave, I took the tot inside to lay her down. I'm not sure if it was the abundance of sugar or the fact that she had reached the point of being too tired, but she laid in her crib and screamed for a solid 20 minutes. At that point, I couldn't take it. No amount of crying was going to put her to sleep. As soon as I picked her up, she laid her head on my shoulder and wrapped her body around mine. I sat in the glider and rocked her for what seemed like forever. I could hear doors closing and cars pulling out of the driveway. The party was ending and I didn't get to say a single 'thank you' or 'goodbye'. But at that moment, I didn't care. All my sick baby wanted was to be held by her momma, and I wasn't about to deprive her of that. As we rocked, I sang "Hush Little Baby" on repeat - the same song I sang to her the very first night she slept in her crib. Then I realized that the detailed party that I had planned and all of the food and decorations that I had crafted by hand - none of it mattered. What mattered was that I was there to comfort my baby when she needed me. I can't think of a better gift than that!

A special thank you to all of our family and friends who attended Tay's birthday party, whether in person or in spirit! It's always hard having family and friends who live far away, but I hope this post makes everyone feel like they were a part of her special day! We are so thankful for the abundance of gifts she received as well as the love that surrounded us that day. We love you all so very much!

Flashback Friday: Monthly Photos

With all of the recent birthdays in our house, I have been feeling a bit more nostalgic than usual, so bear with me as I continue to reminisce about our baby's first year. But hey, props to me for actually posting two Flashback Fridays in a row, right? Roxy, better make that two glittery stickers.

Monthly baby photos have become super trendy over the last couple of years. Personally, I fell in love with the idea when a friend of mine received a beautiful box containing 12 onesies with the most adorable monthly iron-ons prior to the birth of her second child. That and because I am obsessed with capturing every single moment of Taylor's childhood. But if life has taught me anything, it's that time goes by entirely too fast. So to all of you mommas out there, live in each moment - relish in it - and take as many pictures as you possibly can. Even if they have bad lighting and only caputure a blur of your child, you'll still thank yourself later.

I cherish every photo I have of our tot, but these monthly photos are some of my absolute favorites. And seeing them for the first time side by side in this post makes me realize just how far our little one has come over the course of 365 days. And even though sometimes these little photo shoots left me completely frazzled and with a few more grey hairs (although I wouldn't know since I've been dying this mop for far too long), I am so thankful I took the time to capture her at each stage. Her personality truly shines in these photos (especially in the later months), and I absolutely love that I have these images for posterity.

Along with monthly photos, we also started an annual photo of Taylor next to the tree that we planted in our backyard a few weeks before she was born. We chose an October Maple since my original due date was October 1st; however, her stubbornness allowed her to remain breech causing me to have a C-section and her actual birthday to become September 27th. Regardless, we now have a beautiful tree growing in our backyard as a constant reminder of the ever growing child running wild throughout our house. I smile every time I look at that tree, and I hope that one day she will come to appreciate it as much as her daddy and I do.

So there we have it. The maple is growing (but how much, I don't know. We forgot to measure it upon planting.), the tot is well and thriving, and this momma has an entire Target sack full of baby photos to help her through times of nostalgia. One day I'll find the time and energy to transfer those photos into her scrapbook but, for now, I'll continue to pull them out of that crumpled, plastic sack whenever she's gone for a week to Granny & Papa's. Because let's face it, no matter how good it is to have a child-free week, I spend the majority of the time missing our girl and longing for our time apart to come to an end. It's times like that when I'm grateful to have that tattered old sack of photos.

12 Month Update

Holy crap, we made it a year. Our house is still standing, the child is alive and healthy, and Jake and I are able to function on a daily basis. It has been the hardest yet most rewarding year of my life. Seriously, somebody give me a medal (or at least a glittery sticker).

I am so proud to announce that our tot is officially a walker! She has gradually been taking steps over the past month but now she is cruising all over. And now that she is capable, walking has become her sole method of transportation (with the exception of her wheely pig which she absolutely loves). The ability to stand upright and move about has made her so much happier. She was getting very frustrated only being able to take a step or two at a time and then falling over shortly after. But now, she is nice and sturdy and even able to zoom across the room at times! Her favorite new game is running around the room, patting her belly and laughing profusely. It is hilarious. I have no idea why, but it makes her extremely happy!

Now that she is the ripe age of one, she has started to outgrow most of her baby toys so it was was exciting to see her reactions to the new, big girl toys she received for her birthday. Since her party, she has spent every waking minute at home learning and examining her new toys. And while she thoroughly enjoys all of the musical/light up toys she received, she prefers to consume herself in puzzles and books. She is enamored with all of the different shapes and can place most of them into their appropriate cut outs with ease. Our girl is a smart little cookie who never misses a beat. She will concentrate on something until she has mastered it. She reminds me so much of her daddy in this way - smart and diligent yet wild and spontaneous at the same time. You just never know what she's going to do next!

As all big kids must do, we decided it was time for Taylor to get rid of the bottle and make the switch from formula to whole milk. After a lot of discussion and research, we finally just decided to put some milk in a cup and see how she responded. I bought new sippy cups for the big event (thinking they would excite and distract her from the new taste) but, to my amazement, she threw back the cup and chugged the entire thing in one breath. I guess I was expecting some sort of reaction regarding the different taste or the consistency, but she acted as if she had been drinking it her entire life. So anti-climactic. Gotta admit, I was a little disappointed. What wasn't disappointing was packing up all of her bottles this weekend and throwing away the last empty container of formula. I am SO happy to have that expense out of our monthly budget! With those transitions crossed off our list, I spent some time yesterday cleaning out the cupboards and preparing our kitchen for life with a toddler. Finally, one aspect of our baby getting older that I am okay with!

Along with rearranging the kitchen, I also spent a large part of my afternoon reorganizing Tay's closet. She has outgrown all of her 12 month clothes and has been easing her way into 18 month pieces every day now. Infant and toddler clothing are quite possibly the most confusing thing ever, because sizing seems to runs different for every brand. While she may fit into 12 month pants from one brand, she can barely squeeze 18 months in another. That meant I had to try on every single article of clothing she received for her birthday. And if you read this post, you should know that it was not an easy task. Our living room probably looked like something off Hoarders mixed in with a little WWE.  Clothes were flung every where while I was trying to pin down our one year old. Needless to say, about halfway through the pile I gave up. She's younger, has more energy, and is much more flexible that I am. Being 30 is hard.

This new stage is so incredibly fun. I love watching her interact with everything she comes into contact with. Her little mind is so amazing, always soaking up everything around her. Our girl loves people, especially other kids. She is happiest when she is outside running and playing, and now that it has cooled off we don't mind spending more time outdoors with her. She is on the go continuously, only slowing down to eat and sleep. Our little bundle of energy that constantly keeps Jake and I on our toes! Life is so good right now. I, too, just want to soak it all in.