Tag Archives: mom stuff

Missing my baby

I’ve had a heavy heart the last few days. I’m really, really missing my baby. You see, somehow my baby has turned into a kid. I’m sure it was a gradual change, but it’s hit me very suddenly. It feels like I put him to bed one night as a chubby, babbling toddler, and he woke up the next morning

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7 Unsung Milestones

Parenting a young child is very much about “firsts.” First smiles, first laughs, first steps, first words, first day of school—all wonderful and important moments in your little one’s life. I love those big milestones as much as anyone. Hey, take one glance at my Instagram and you’ll see that I document the hell out of them. But watching our

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Falling out of first place

Last month was kind of weird for our family. Work schedules, after school activities, evening commitments, and multiple bouts of a stomach “situation” left my husband, our son, and me like three ships passing in the night—always two here and one there, just with varying iterations. Within that window of time, I wasn’t home or available as often as I

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“Say his name, honey.”

It felt so strange to hold him—to see this person who’d been inside of my body for almost 10 months wrapped up all burrito-like in the crook of my arm. “How is it possible for someone to look tiny and enormous at the same time?” I thought. “I love this person, but I don’t know anything about him.” As I’ve

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A Note to the New Mom

Hey, you. I see you. Not the dark circles under your eyes. Not the “day three hair” pulled into something that once vaguely resembled a ponytail. Not the crusted baby puke flaking off your shirt. I see you. You’re doing a really good job. I mean it. Motherhood is a big, important, nuanced thing, and you’re doing it. Sure, “it”

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That one time I was a genius

I became a mostly stay-at-home mother* a few months after our son’s second birthday. Around that same time, my husband’s work hours went a little kooky, often requiring me to solo-parent** our toddler from breakfast to bedtime several days in a row. I went from spending my days in a quiet office with considerate companions who let me go to

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One and Done. Probably.

When my husband and I first began talking about starting a family—both during the abstract musings of our first years of marriage and later on as the ifs morphed into whens—we always said we’d have two kids. He’s an only child, and I’m the youngest of three, and we each were leaning towards replicating the situation in which we grew up,

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