I’m Officially A #Boymom x 2…

11 days since Easton arrived.

11 days since I officially became a “‘mama of 2.”

11 nights of almost 0 sleep (though I can’t remember the last time I slept for an entire night anyways.)

Countless diapers, pull-ups, loads of laundry, an obscene amount of coffee and tears. So. Many. Tears.

Tears from the baby.

Tears from the two year old.

Tears from me.

I’d be lying if I said I have enjoyed the past 11 days. They’ve been hard. Really, really hard. Newborns are hard. Two year olds are hard. Being home alone with one of each is hard. Watching my husband walk out the door at 7 am and not seeing him come back in til 7-8 pm every night is hard. Letting him sleep in the guest room so (in theory) he can get more rest is hard. I’ve spent most of my showers (that I haven’t shared with my 2 year old) a puddle on the floor crying.

“I haven’t done enough today.”

“What is wrong with me.”

“I miss my husband.”

“I miss Gage.”

“Was I too hard on Gage today?”

“Did I spend quality time with Gage? With Easton?”

“Am I making the right choices for my kids?”

“Am I doing everything I can to make this house a home for my kids and my husband?”

“Am I serving my husband?”

“Are my kids healthy?”

“Oh gosh, they’re not getting sick are they?”

“Why did my big boy stop sleeping through the night? Will he ever sleep again?”

” Will I ever sleep again?”

“Will I ever look like anything other than a sleep deprived zombie again?”

“How many more episodes of Blaze and the Monster Machines can one watch before going insane?”

“Will I ever stop crying?”

But the love. The love is so much stronger. The love I feel when I look at my sleeping 2 year old or how much my heart almost bursts when he hugs my neck and kisses my face and says “love you mommer.” (His new term of endearment for me because I call him Gager.) the love I feel when I look at my newborn’s sweet face or feel him snuggle up into my neck and fall asleep. The complete and utter love I feel when I see the excitement my husband and my two year old have when they see each other after a long day. The way my husband loves on and hugs and plays with Gage. The way he lays Easton on his chest to rest or cooes and talks to him and rubs his little belly as he’s laying on the floor. The rare, but oh so sweet moments when Gage loves on his new brother.

It’s not easy. I’m learning even more to depend on the Lord for my strength and to get me through each day.

It’s messy. It’s exhausting. Sometimes it’s lonely. But our home is full of so much love. And some day I’m going to look back and miss the toys scattered around the house, and the endless amount of bottles and laundry to wash, and sharing my showers with a two year old, and the sweet baby snuggles I get after each night feeding…

Xo,

Amber

P.S.

This morning I saw this video and blog post on Facebook as I was laying in bed with a newborn on my chest and a toddler clinging to my waste as he had all night. I hadn’t even been remotely asleep since around midnight. And this video just hit me like. Ton of bricks.

https://www.facebook.com/HerViewFromHome/videos/1749770068377073/

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Eat the Damn Cake

So, as a relatively new mother I find myself noticing more and more Facebook posts, blogs, Tweets, Pins, etc on “fit pregnancy” or “How to Loose the Baby Weight” “How to Have A Healthy Pregnancy” “Beach Body After Baby” and the list could go on. Absolutely nothing  is wrong with any of those- But I’m here to tell you, don’t stress, it is okay! 

It’s okay if you’re not a fitness guru:

It’s okay if you don’t do crossfit, run 15 miles a day, and lift weights while you’re pregnant… or even if you’re not pregnant, honestly. While I would suggest not completely nixing physical activity- you don’t have to force yourself into some crap that you hate every single day because you don’t want to become a whale. You don’t. Find something you enjoy (zumba, riding a bike, yoga, etc..) clear it with your doctor and go for it. I’m not saying you can’t be a fitness junky while you’re pregnant either. Some people truly do enjoy torturing themselves for 2 hours at 5:00 every single morning- power to you. Just don’t ever forget- it is okay to not fit the mold, to not follow the trends, do what feels good to you. 

Let yourself have that piece of cake!

When I first found out I was pregnant I had the worst fear of becoming “that girl” who “pregnancy did not treat well.” I read blog after blog and read tips on top of tips on top of tips on how to eat while pregnant. Articles like “How to Gain only 10 or less Pounds During Pregnancy” and other ridiculous articles similar. I forced myself to ignore my hunger and pretty much survive off of lettuce and water. Guess what. I felt like crap and on top of all of that… after two glucose testing appointments- because there’s no way that first one was right, I still was gestational diabetic. It didn’t matter that I had eaten the most healthy I ever have in my life this past 4 months. It didn’t matter that I was on the lower end of “normal” gestational weight gain. It didn’t matter. And you want to know what my doctor told me? She said “You have got to stop worry about this. Don’t deprive yourself! If you want that chocolate cupcake have one- just one, but allow yourself to have it. Eat your protein and veggies, drink your water, but allow yourself your cravings. You will feel so much better.” She was right. Be healthy- don’t gorge yourself on crap. But allow yourself to indulge. Moderation is key. After we had that talk I let go a little, I allowed myself to eat until I was satisfied, I allowed myself a cup of coffee and a sweet tea here and there- and I felt- and feel so much better.

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Who cares what “they” think.

Seriously. Who. Freaking. Cares? Whether you only gained 7 pounds and had the most fit pregnancy anyone has ever had and bounced back to your post pregnancy body almost instantly or if you gained 50 pounds and are still trying to shed the pounds 3 years later. Who. Cares. As long as you are healthy (key word here) and happy, what everyone else thinks is irrelevant. If the people who are important in your life won’t accept you either way- it’s time to evaluate the people you are surrounding yourself with and weed some out.

Loving yourself is a daily decision.

The ticket to loving yourself and your body is a decision you make every single day. If we’re being honest, more days than not I struggle to love myself. I struggle to love the way I look. I struggle to believe I am good enough for my husband or my child. It’s a struggle for me to ignore the little extra around my mid-section or the stretch marks on my thighs. It is hard not to doubt yourself- believe me, I know. But as long as you are either working to be better or doing the best you absolutely can do with the situation you are given. Wake up, look in the mirror, find that one positive thing about yourself that you just love- be it your eyes, hair, how freaking awesome you are at doing makeup- whatever it is. Find it. Focus on it. Let that confidence radiate through you all day. Decide to be happy. Decided to love yourself- and love the process, whatever that may be.

 

You are beautiful. You are enough…. and eat the damn cake.