you got this

You guys, sometimes I wonder if I’m doing it right. The mom thing. There are so many amazing moms in my life. And on pinterest. And blogs. And in the news. And basically everywhere. I mean we’re surrounded by moms. Good moms. And it’s so easy to see all of those moms at their best (and let’s be real, we are almost always seeing them at their best), making their own baby food, maintaining the most organized homes,  throwing adorable themed parties, using cloth diapers, buying organic snacks, and all this while looking flawless and perfectly coiffed. And I think “WHAT THE HECK AM I DOING? I AM THE WORST! I DON’T HAVE A CHORE CHART FOR MY 2 YEAR OLD! I ACCIDENTALLY PUT SUNSCREEN ON MY 5 MONTH OLD! AND MY DISPOSABLE DIAPERS ARE FILLING UP ALL THE LANDFILLS!!!”

And then the other day, I was giving my 2 year old a bath. We were laughing while I got her all soapy, and I stopped for a second, and I thought to myself “Your daughter is going to get out of this tub, cheery, clean, and warm, and then you are going to put clean, warm, appropriately fitted pajamas on her, and then you will tuck her into a bed with clean sheets with her 2 special blankets and she will be happy. You’re doing a good job.”

And another time, I was agonizing over  something else that I can’t remember right now but then I stopped and looked at my kids. My 5 month old was drinking a bottle (by himself! My heart!) and my 2 year old was eating her lunch, which consisted of a fruit, a vegetable, a grain, protein (PB for the win!) and dairy. I all of a sudden felt like a super capable adult. I thought to myself “You’re doing it right.”

And then one time I walked in on my two year old playing with her precious dinosaurs. One was falling off the couch and she had her “mommy” one saying “Oh no, sweetie. It’s going to be ok. Don’t worry sweetheart.” And I thought to myself, “She learned to talk like that from you. You’re doing so well.”

Look, none of us have it completely together. That other mom you saw at the children’s museum the other day, who had a full face of makeup and perfect hair and perfect snacks for her kids and who is being abnormally patient with her kids, I promise you: she is having a good day. You have them too. She also has bad days. You have them too.

There are some children out there who aren’t blessed with loving parents, but yours are. You’re doing something right. You’re trying. That means everything. If you’re doing all you can, if your kids know you love them, you’re doing it right.

A favorite quote of mine: "To all mothers in every circumstance, including those who struggle—and all will—I say, “Be peaceful. Believe in God and yourself. You are doing better than you think you are.”

You really are. Keep on keepin’ on, mom. 

Mama & Little Giveaway

We are so excited to be working with Arlene from Mama&Little this week. She sent us a couple of necklaces to test, review and GIVEAWAY! That's right! She is giving us 50$ in store credit to give away to one of you!!! That's a combination of necklaces and/or bracelets!! The details for the giveaway are at the bottom of this post.

So, if you've never used teething jewelry, you're probably like "what?", so let me give you the basics. Mama And Little makes super cute necklaces and bracelets (to fit every mama's style) that are totally safe for your teething baby to chew on. They are food-grade (plus no BPA, PVC, phthalate, cadmium, latex, lead, or heavy metals) silicon and are totally dishwasher safe. The beads won't break or fall off. They provide a convenient, stylish & safe teething option.

Brittany is wearing the Zooey in Mint

This is the Deila in Marsala

As you can see, both of our babes loved grabbing onto these necklaces. We each flew with our babies this week and they were like a secret weapon for helping our girls fall asleep on the plane. They are definitely a new Mama and Baby fave around here. (In fact, I just may be ordering this and/or this for myself for Christmas!)

Okay, now for the giveaway! Use the Rafflecopter to enter, we'll draw a winner on Friday (Dec 18th) and announce that afternoon. Good luck, and may the giveaway odds be EVER in your favor! 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Grateful Kids are Happy Kids

Written By: Sally

Lately I've been thinking a lot about what makes happy kids. Is it giving them everything they want? Or making them earn everything? Maybe it's refusing to spoil them? Are happy kids the kids that have everything they want? Sometimes it seems like the happiest kids are the ones who have little or nothing. Is it the not having that makes them happy?

I think what it comes down to, is that the happiest kids are the kids who appreciate what they have, regardless of how much that is. This quote comes to mind

This makes me think how important it is that we celebrate Thanksgiving before Christmas. Maybe as we celebrate Thanksgiving and think about how grateful we are for what we have, it prepares us to focus on the true meaning of Christmas. 

Back to raising happy kids. So, do you think its true then?  If we're more grateful, we're happier? I've seen gratitude (and lack thereof) affect the happiness in my marriage, in motherhood, in pregnancy, in church callings and in friendship. I've seen it transform how I feel about our financial situation, and where we live.

So the question is... If we want to raise happy kids, how do we teach our children to be grateful? This is a real question. I don't know the answer. I've been searching for that answer for a while now.

I mean I know how to teach Gunner to say thank you. That's just part of the normal toddler curriculum. But there is so much more to gratitude than just saying thank you. So, in the spirit of Thanksgiving this week, will you share your tricks/advice with us? We want to know what works for you, what doesn't work for you. Do you feel like gratitude makes you a happier person? 

Leave a comment on this post, or on our Facebook or Instagram. I'd like to compile a list of everyone's ideas and advice! 

Now people! It's basically Thanksgiving. So I'm going to pull a Nacho Libre and put on my stretchy pants ('es for fun) and I don't plan to take them off for at least 36 hours. I hope you'll do the same!

Xo
Sally

On pregnancy and loss

I have written this post in my head many, many times and have thought about it even more. I sometimes have worried that writing my story would just bring back the overwhelming heartache I felt that day and the days,weeks, even months following. But I have learned that when you experience a loss, expressing your feelings and writing them down can be cathartic. And perhaps, there is a friend or someone reading this post that can benefit somehow from it. If that someone is reading this, you are not alone. Trust me on this, for I have been through this not just once, but twice.
These losses were miscarriages. I recently read miscarriage referred to as the "Voldermort of women's health issues." And it cannot be more true. Few people who experience it want to talk about it. Why? There are many reasons.. In my experience, it was heartbreaking to think about, let alone talk about. Plus, though I had made it through my first trimester, we had never announced the pregnancy. How was I supposed to bring up my miscarriage to all my friends and family who never even knew I was pregnant to begin with?

And this is me talking about my miscarriage, this is my story. In May 2012 my husband, Brandon and I were busy with preparations for moving to Spain for a masters degree program when I found out that I was pregnant. This was not my first, we already had a beautiful little boy who was a little over a year old. And all I could feel was nervous, anxious, unsure of what would happen, frustrated of the situation (imminent move overseas!) and just scared. We kept the news to ourselves, knowing all those who loved us would be a bit worried as well. We had already spent hundreds of dollars and countless hours on getting to Spain that I could just not imagine going and doing what we felt was best for our family (Brandon getting his masters degree in such a short amount of time). I saw my doctor at 6 weeks where I had an ultrasound and was able to see little babe's heart beating. I still could not believe this was happening.
Weeks passed and things seemed fine, I didn't have much of an appetite or cravings and hardly any vomiting, I thought I was lucky. Not too long after leaving our home and arriving in Ohio to visit family before our move, I started feeling terribly sick, couldn't eat anything for a couple of days. Not sure if this was the flu, or my body hinting to me that all was not well. A few days later I was back to normal. A few weeks passed and I was now at just a few days shy of 15 weeks, when I started spotting. I made some calls to nearby OB offices, all who advised not to come in unless I have heavy bleeding and/or cramps. I did not, and though I was a little reassured, I still felt like something just wasn't right. A few days past and I was still spotting a bit. Now, Liam and I were scheduled to leave for Spain in 2 weeks and my husband in 2 days. Then I started bleeding, and it was bad. My heart sank knowing that I had more than likely just lost our baby. We immediately drove straight to the hospital. There nurses tried to assure me that there was still hope as they searched and searched for my little babe's heartbeat, but I knew in my heart that they wouldn't find it. A doctor came in and performed an ultrasound and informed me that there was no blood going to my baby. I could see my baby on the screen, with arms and legs, only problem was that my baby was not moving. Another doctor came in to confirm that we had lost our baby a few weeks prior and that that my body had just held onto the baby, resulting in a "missed miscarriage." Even though this was the news I had anticipated hearing the entire drive to the hospital and the whole time the nurses couldn't find my baby's heartbeat, hearing it confirmed was terrible. They left the room to give us some time alone, leaving on the screen showing our little babe that had no heartbeat, that was gone. It felt so surreal in that hospital room knowing that the baby I had been carrying for 15 weeks was gone. This baby would not be part of our family. I would never hold this baby or sing to it or cuddle it for hours on end. For the past 4 months we had been about to be a family of 4.. and now it was just gone. They tried to reassure me that "these things happen" and that "I did nothing wrong." They sent me home and I was scheduled to come in the next morning for surgery. 
The next morning, as I laid in the freezing OR, waiting on the surgeon, a nurse brought me a few warm blankets and then came to my side, she didn't say anything either, She looked at me with such care in her eyes and took my hand and grasped it. I couldn't help but begin to cry, a mix of realization and sadness for what was happening and yet the sweet gesture brought me a little comfort. I truly feel like those who work in medicine have to just be meant for that job, and that particular nurse was clearly meant to be a nurse. 
Later in the recovery room, I was informed that I had lost a lot of blood, but they expected me to be ok. A bit later a nurse came and started to fill out my release papers. Turns out I was not ok, for hours they monitored me, trying to stabilize my heart rate and blood pressure. The whole day I was pumped full of IV fluids. After that didn't work, I was given a transfusion. Finally I could go home and hold my little boy. How glad I was that I had him that sad night. Being wheeled out of the hospital empty handed was probably the hardest part. I hadn't even thought about how hard that would be. The last time I had left a hospital (except for the day prior), I was wheeled out holding onto my precious Liam to take him home with us. This time I had nothing. 
Then the next day, as scheduled, Brandon left for Spain. I was left to mourn on my own. Most of those two weeks were spent lying awake at night, having no distraction from the thoughts that plagued my mind. The strongest thoughts were feelings of guilt. I felt guilty that I had not been excited about this precious life, and I felt guilty for not seeking help when I got sick thinking of the possibility that I miscarried due to dehydration. I don't think I will ever not wonder if I could have prevented my miscarriage. I don't think I will ever not wonder what our family would be like now, had we become a family of 4 then. 
Now, I can talk about these things without becoming an emotional mess. When I went through my miscarriage and the feelings and heartache were new, I did not want to talk about it. Not just because of the awkwardness surrounding never even announcing my pregnancy, but also, I hoped that I could just forget it all. I thought if I didn't talk about it and I could just forget it, it would be less painful. The reality was that never talking about it, did more harm than good. I felt alone in my loss. Though my husband obviously lost a baby as well, I still felt like he didn't understand what I was going through. I felt I had no one who knew what it was like to go through a loss like this. And a miscarriage isn't exactly what you bring up in everyday normal pleasant conversation, right? "Hey, how have you been!!?"..-"Oh, you know, just lost my baby that I wasn't excited about at 15 weeks and now I feel like crap.." In my head there would definitely had been awkward cricket sounds following. But as I very slowly began telling a few close friends and family members what happened, the responses I got were sincere, heartfelt reassurances of love and sympathy. And that was what I really could have used in the days and weeks following the loss of our precious baby. And though I don't have all the answers on why this happened, there are lessons I learned on my journey of loss. Human life is precious, and the gift to be able to conceive and carry a tiny, perfect human being within you is not a gift given to every woman. Appreciate it and don't take it for granted. And please, if you suffer the heartbreaking loss of a precious baby, don't rob your loved ones of supporting you by shutting down and not speaking about your loss.

Rachel is a mother to three babies, two here on earth and one angel baby.

More Love

Becoming a mother is the most crazy, unreal, incredibly real thing I've ever done.  When I had Georgia, I kept looking at her and thinking, "are you really mine?? Did Cade and I really make this little human?? How did I ever love before this??"  She would look at me and the world around me would disappear.  She made me a mother.  She paved the way.  Georgia was my first everything when it comes to motherhood.  I didn't even want another baby until she was about nine months old.  That might seem soon, now that I think about it, but whatever.  I had a solid ten months of just she and I (and Cade of course, ;)

When Georgia was about 10 months old, I got pregnant with our second child.  I didn’t know what it was then, but I was pregnant! Georgia was no longer the only child.  Nine months later, we had Lucy Sue.  While laboring during transition, with Lucy, I started to feel guilty for bringing another baby into the world so quickly.  Did we give Georgia enough time to be with us? Would she resent us for bringing home a new baby?  Was it selfish of us to have another one so close? Would I be able to love another baby as much as I loved Georgia? (In my mind at the time, these were all very much valid questions to ask myself).  After having her, those worries disappeared and my heart grew to fit all the love I had for each of these girls. 

Looking back on my days spent with Georgia and how I spend my days with Georgia and Lucy now, I, again, can’t help to feel guilty..  Because I had these cuties so close together, I don’t find the time to have quiet moments with Lucy.  Our mornings aren’t quite as smooth and quiet and slow to start as they were with Georgia.  Time has slipped so much faster through my fingers, and I am scared that I have lost something with Lucy that I have with Georgia.  Maybe that is just how it goes… But I don’t like it.  I never wished for time to slow down with Georgia, because each day was filled with just her! Those “firsts” were easily noticed and time seems to have dilly-dallied just a little more with her.  Now with Lucy, she is about five and a half months old and time has literally been on a sprint! She is doing so much! So is Georgia!! She is TWO! I don’t know how that happened either!  Where did the time go? Did I use it right??

I sit here and think of all the ways I could have, would have, and should have, and I have to stop myself.  I can’t think about that.  I can think about how wonderful each day spent with each of these girls has been and how I can better use my time with them today.  I can think of ways to fill the time of each day with more of them.  More watching them.  More listening to them.  More hugs.  More kisses.  More grins. More giggles.  I can’t spend my time feeling guilty; instead, I can feel grateful for the different experiences and the lessons I’ve learned in motherhood so far.  Georgia will always be my first, she will always have my firsts, but Lucy gets a road that might not be as bumpy and a mother that is more learned.  We can be better today and we can be better tomorrow! We can change the time we spend in future, not the time that has already been spent. Has guilt like this ever trapped you?  Have you found a balance? I would love to hear your story! XOXO britt 

Pillow Talk

Written By: Sally

The other night I was tucking Gunner into bed at the end of a looong day. Zack was out of town and I was feeling overwhelmed all day. Just constantly on edge and quick to snap at Gunner. There was a lot more tears, and a lot more yelling than I would like to admit. I'm not normally a yeller, but I lost my cool on several occasions that day. Gunner played his part as well. Aside from normal two year antics that drive me up the wall, he was missing his dad. He is a daddy's boy through and through and has a hard time when Zack is gone. Suffice to say, it was a gloomy day around our house.

Clearly, he has mastered the pout.

So as I was tucking Gunner into bed, we read a scripture story and I sang him songs as usual. We were snuggled up in his bed and my love for him just began to overflow. I could have squeezed the life out of him. Tears welled up in my eyes because I was looking at this precious little boy who is literally a piece of my soul. All day, in all my anxiety, I hadn't stopped to admire him and remember how fearfully and wonderfully made he is. 

As my love was overflowing, my guilt was getting heavier and heavier. I wasted an entire day being frustrated with him. A whole day! It was a whole day that we will never get back. I could have spent the day playing with him and moving at his pace. We could have made up silly songs and laughed more. But instead I let my stress and poor attitude get the best of me. That's just not fair to Gunner. He deserves better. 

So, I squeezed him really tight. Like so tight he started to gasp. And I kissed those squishy little cheeks and said I'm sorry. I said, "I'm sorry I got mad at you today Gunner. I'm sorry I yelled. I really don't like to yell. It makes me sad when I yell. I'll do better tomorrow. I love you my sweet Gunner" He didn't say anything. He just looked at me and gave me his tightest squeeze. 

We went back to talking about picking pumpkins and his favorite stuffed animals and all the other things on his wonderful, curious mind. When it was time for final good night kisses I hugged him tight again and told him I loved him. Then, he whispered in my ear, "I sorry mommy." I was really taken aback. "For what?" I asked. "For making naughty choice today." 

My heart broke and soared at the same time. I was sad that he was feeling sad, and that I had gotten mad at him. But that apology was completely unsolicited, and unprecedented. He has said sorry before. But never without our prompting. This time, he knew he hadn't been a good listener, and he was genuinely sorry. He knew that he made some choices today that made me sad, and he was genuinely sorry. How grown up of him. I couldn't believe it. I was so humbled. 

When I apologized to him, I just wanted him to know that I was going to do better tomorrow. I was not trying to get an apology out of him. But I think what he saw was that it's okay to admit when we do something wrong. And it makes people feel better when we say we're sorry. My apology helped him to feel better and I think he wanted to make me feel better with his. 

I get so wrapped up in being his mom and trying to be right all the time. But what I really want to teach him is so much more than just to be obedient and to do what I tell him. I want him to learn to make those choices on his own. Admitting that I'm wrong doesn't make him think less of me. It organically teaches him how to handle himself when he's in a similar situation. 

How many other things am I trying to teach him that he just doesn't get because I'm saying them and not doing them? They say the best way to teach is by example. But, that is so much more than imitating the proper behavior for our kids. To truly teach by example, we must be living it. We should always be striving to be the person we want our children follow. 

For me, there is no greater teacher, leader, or example than our Savior Jesus Christ. As we strive to live more like Him, our children will learn from us, how to follow Him. So after all the yelling and meltdowns and moments I'm not proud of, I'm going to consider that day a success because we both learned something really important and we're going to do better tomorrow. 

Pictures by Dianne Shumway