You Know You're A Mom When...

There's a hicky on your shoulder and it DEFINITELY wasn't your man who it put there.

How Much Does Your Baby Weigh?

My scale broke two weeks before I hit the 40 week mark. I'm still bummed I didn't know exactly how much I weighed through my pregnancy, but I was very happy with my weight gain (yes, I said it!) up to that point so I tried not to be fussed.

Nearly four months later and we still have not fixed that scale.

So how do we know how much our boy weighs between doctors' visits? The produce section at the grocery store. Pop him on like a sack o' potatoes while the other mommies smirk as they walk by.

Yeah. We're ghetto like that.

RedSnapper Onesies (GIVEAWAY)

Oh to know how many unnecessary snaps I have snapped in the last (almost) four months of my life. As the realisation of just how considerably the pace of my life slowed since having a baby continues to sink in, I must admit that I am more eager than ever to avoid whatever roadblocks I can - especially one as silly as mis-snapping a onesie.

When I find myself in a mis-snapping mis-hap, I take a deep breath, put on that big goofy smile my baby loves and, resisting an eye roll at myself, I start to sing our "1 snap, 2 snap, 3 snap song" (yes, I make these up as we go along)... again. But inside I do wish there was a better way.

Which is why I think RedSnapper Onesies are a seriously GENIUS idea.
Check out the little red snap right in the middle. Its like Baby-Dressing for Dummies. As someone who loves organisation (colour coding makes me giddy!), this is my new favourite mommy-minute saving tip! Plus, they have some super cute styles to choose from.
Hey, but don't take my word for it! Now is your chance to win your very own RedSnapper Onesie! Click here and you could be on your way to singing the "snap song" only once!

Onto singing the chopping veggies song,

Stop the Press

Okay, I must admit that I have been SO tired of all the advertising for the movie "BABIES." We don't often get movie ads on TV here so it has been the hype on all my baby product packaging that has driven my crazy. Quite frankly, I just hated the typeface they wrote BABIES in and decided the movie probably sucked.

Now, living in wannabe big town but still fairly rural Australia (I do love my city, but its true), I have NO idea if or when this movie will come here; however, I finally sucked it up to watch the trailer and I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE IT.Culture. Babies. Real Life. Some of my favourite thing all packaged into what looks like it will be a hilarious hour or two to spend my life on.

Maybe you're from the big city and I'm the only one behind the times on this, but this small town girl is saying if you haven't at least seen the trailer, watch it! FACT: I cried.

BABIES Trailer

Growth. Spurt.

Growing is good. Growing in spurts = not so good.

What is the point of growth spurt? I hated them when I was growing. And I still hate them now that I'm growing you, my little boy.

I hear some kids just grow steadily. No spurting. I'd like to know where we were supposed to sign up for that option. I'm quite sure you would strongly prefer this option as well.

For the record though, I thought growth spurts were supposed to make you tired? I swear sometimes I look at you and wonder, "How in the world are you not asleep!?"

You have rubbed your eyes red, yawned long enough to swallow a fly or two, and yelped those pathetic, grizzly cries over and over but your poor little thing... sleep just will not come. When I look at you, I remember the childhood feeling of those achy joints - a dull, annoying pain that just won't go away - and wonder if you feel the same but with no words to tell Mama where to rub.

All you want to do is eat. But Mama's milk just can't come fast enough. I feel so sad that I can't seem to give you enough of what you need but I know that if you suck long enough more will come. Its the way God made us to work in a team. Its tiring sometimes. But I like being on the team with you. And when you don't feel well, there is no better place you'd rather be.

And so the training, the routine, the principles, they all go out the window so I can give you that little bit of extra comfort until finally, your ravished little tummy is satisifed enough to drop into a deep sleep.

I let you stay next to me instead of in your cot and even though the last little while felt so exhausting, in the moment, looking at you sleeping there, I know we made it! And I know we'll make it next time.

I love you little boy!! Grow good. Love, mommy.

You Know You're A New Mom When...

...intimate moments are traded for a clogged milk duct massage.

Its All Good.

At the end of an unideal nap-time session today, I was so ready to just get on with some "me" time. Ironically for me, "me" time is less about "me" and more about everything else that is not "baby".

Work. Housework. More work. More housework.

So when we had unideal nap time on a day when I really wanted this "me" ... uh ... "work" time, I was not thrilled when a quiet little voice in the back of my heart said, "Stop. Sit. Wait."

I headed to the door, willing to ignore it, but my heart tugged me back and I reluctantly fell backward into the soft rolls of my rocking chair. Wishing I had something productive to do while I stopped, sat and waited (where is that phone and why isn't my email downloading on it today!?), I noticed the Bible sitting under the lamp.

It was one of those moments where the last thing I wanted to do was look at it... (yes, I have those) but I picked it up and opened it up, lost and uninspired, to the very beginning. (Definitely uninspired.)

And then I started to read.

The creation story. The one I've read probably hundreds if not thousands of times. The story I've told my little boy at least 10 times since he was born. Yes, the very one I spent five days of the last week teaching about.

And yet, in all of that, it hit me in a new way again. (Okay, IT didn't hit me. God Himself hit me. Okay, He didn't hit me... you get what I mean.)

It was the part about rest... and it wasn't just a slap in the face telling me I am taking too much on or doing things in my own strength. It was the reminder that the reason that God rested was that "It was good."

And that the reason He wants me to rest is because what I've done is good!

I want to spend my life loving, respecting, and working in team with my husband, lavishing on and training up my little boy, and using my time to help people in a very tangible way. I want to do that well.

And when the week is over, I want to remember that I've done good.

Getting bubby to sleep sucked. The emails waiting to be answered were still there when I got back. And so was the ant infestation I noticed on my way to the bedroom.

But my heart... my heart was at rest.