Tag Archives: baby

Trip to the High

Today we were invited to go to the High Museum in Atlanta. Apparently, the High has some diverting activities for kids. We weren’t even there for a specific children’s event (which they offer too), but there was still a little room full of fun activities for babies and toddlers. It is definitely worth checking out.

My sister came over to my house in the morning to help my get the kids dressed and ready. I put on their cutest outfits (we don’t get out much, so we like to put their best foot forward) and we headed over to the museum. I was shocked that we were leaving with plenty of time to spare for once. What a difference a helper makes when you are getting three children dressed and fed! My girls have crazy curly hair, so I did my best trying to make their hair look done, at least. We get to the museum parking deck right on time and Rosie’s neat little top knot has turned into a rat’s nest in the 20 minute trip there. Her hair band had disappeared into the Bermuda Triangle of hair bands that haunts the backseat of my van. Never to return. I panicked and pulled Wren’s head wrap off to put on Rosie’s head. It didn’t do much to ameliorate the situation, but I at least felt like I did something.
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Your Baby Hates Me

“Your baby hates me,” you proclaim as you hand her back to me, gingerly, as if she may spontaneously combust at any moment. I giggle awkwardly as I receive my child. I never know quite how to respond to that proclamation in the moment, as many times as I’ve heard it.

My baby doesn’t hate you. Please do not feel awkward and offended that she took one look at you and immediately the corners of her lips traveled downward and her eyes started welling up. It was nothing personal. She is still learning about this big bad world and social conventions might be a little beyond her ken at this point in her life. As far as I can tell, her whole world revolves around mama, daddy, and big sisters. Everyone else is strange and scary. She is too little to know any better.

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A Day in the Life

The days are long, but the years are short, they say. Right now, I am in the trenches of the “long” period of motherhood. I’m ridiculously outnumbered day in and day out by this tiny army that I painstakingly grew and nurtured inside of me.

My days are long. I wake up (late, of course) after a night of climbing in and out of bed to nurse my littlest back to sleep. I go to get my littlest so I can groggily change her diaper and nurse her yet again. At this point, I am so parched, I feel like I have crossed the Sahari desert and my canteen is full of sand. I let her play on her play mat while I sleepily watch her from my bed.

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Wren: six months?!!

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Dear Wren,

Today you are six months old. I know this is the common refrain among parents, but where does the time go?! You’ve grown from a newborn to a full-fledged baby!

Milestones: You are rolling around like a champ. Much sooner than your sisters did. You are ready to catch up and start playing with them! You babble and gurgle up a storm when someone is talking to you. You love grabbing your Sofie the Giraffe and shoving it in your mouth to gnaw on it. You also love splashing the water with your little hands in the bath and getting all startled when the water hits you in the face. You are not sitting up yet, but you are close! You also just started eating solids a little bit. You are undecided about whether you like them or not.
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Instagram cracks down on . . . Moms?

I breastfeed, but I would not consider myself a “lactivist.” I usually can’t wait to wean, and am surprised at myself every time I feel sad about weaning when it is time. With my first baby I would go into another room by myself to nurse, as I remember all my aunts and parents’ friends doing when I was young. By the time my second came along, I was tired of hanging out by myself while all my friends and family members enjoyed each other’s company, so I started using my nursing cover. Missing out on all the fun because my baby is hungry? Forget it. Now with my third, I have been starting out a nursing session using a nursing cover, but poor Wren just gets so hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, I usually discreetly remove it once I feel her getting drenched in sweat. I never in a million years thought I would be that mother who was unabashedly whipping out her boob in public when her babe was hungry, but I think by the fourth I will be at that point. I’ve got three under three. Go find somewhere to hide so I can breastfeed? Ain’t nobody got time for that! I still haven’t yet reached the point where I am putting photos of myself nursing on Instagram, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the beautiful photos of breastfeeding when I come across them. Photography can be an art, and as a mother, I love the Cassatt depictions of breastfeeding too!
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Young Mother Nursing Her Child Mary Cassatt

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Our little flower girls

My brother’s wedding was this weekend, and it was a destination wedding in the college town of Athens, Georgia.
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My (now!) sister in law very sweetly asked if my two older girls would be flower girls, and of course I agreed. Ruth will be three in September and Rose will be two in October, so I was a tad bit anxious about how they would perform come the day of the wedding.
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We traveled up to Athens on the 4th of July for the Rehearsal Dinner. When we had settled into our cute cottage on the grounds of the wedding venue and attended the Rehearsal Dinner, Ruthie promptly sat on a lit match and burned a hole in her dress. We like to start things off right. The rest of the Rehearsal Dinner was uneventful, other than the fact it was outdoors and the mosquitos ate poor little Ruth alive!

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Baby Sleep Woes

When Ruth was a baby, my husband and I would wonder what all the fuss about sleep deprivation and babies was about. She was already sleeping five hours a night when we brought her home from the hospital. She was sleeping eight hours by two months, and twelve by four months. “We are the best parents ever!”, we congratulated ourselves. “All of those parents that don’t sleep at night must be doing something wrong,” we smugly opined.

Then, Rose was born. She wouldn’t sleep for more than three hours at a time until she was four months old. Our faith in our parenting abilities was shaken. That was the longest four months of my life. Until Wren was born.

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Top five unexpectedly good things about having babies close together

When Ruth was five months old, we found out we were pregnant with Rose. When Rose was about seven months old, we found out we were pregnant with Wren! Having children this close together is not for the faint of heart, but it does come with some unexpected perks. For example,

1) None of your baby stuff is in storage. That’s right! No need to send your husband up to the attic for all that baby junk that has been up there for a few years and worry about cleaning off the mold, dust and spiders. It is all still out! In fact, there is still a baby in it. Don’t get too comfortable in that exersaucer, baby. I’m counting on you learning to walk in the next few months. And soothe a newborn.

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When are you going back to work?

I get asked this all the time. I usually stammer some awkward explanation about being on perpetual maternity leave because I feel like “I AM working, and when the kids grow up and leave the house, I will be enjoying my well-deserved retirement,” isn’t quite the answer they are looking for.

As an aside, I feel obligated to mention that if you are looking for a discussion on whether “working” moms or “stay at home” moms are better or have a harder life, then look elsewhere. I have never been a working mom, so I am not going to presume to speak on something about which I have no knowledge.

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When mama is sick

I woke up with a fever of 102 racking my whole body. I staggered into the girls’ rooms to change their diapers and get them dressed. Putting out two bowls of Cheerios and two sippies of milk, I turned on Sesame Street and promptly (and accidentally) passed out on the couch.

I was awoken from sleep by a kiss. My eyes snapped open, horrified that I had fallen asleep. I was staring into Ruthie’s enormous eyes. “Mama, you sick?,” she inquired. “Yes, baby,” I answered. Before I could stop her, she planted another big kiss on my lips. “I make it all better, mama.” “Thank you, baby.”, I told her, realizing how the whole “kiss it and make it better” thing had really backfired on me from a hygienic standpoint.

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