Love More, Judge Less
April is Limb Difference Awareness Month. It’s been 10 months since we found out our baby was going to be born without most of her fingers on her left hand. It’s been nearly 6 months since Livy was born and we saw her hands with our own eyes. We fell in love, hard. When
Throughout the last twelve years of motherhood I like to think that I’ve earned many “mommy badges”. Like the Girl Scout I used to be, I have collected these badges and often talk of them to other mommies, proud of how I handled a certain challenge and honored that I earned that particular badge. For
When I became pregnant for the first time, I excitedly went to the book store to buy every book about parenting I could find. I read countless articles and posts, talked to many other parents, and felt ready to take on this new life challenge. Wasn’t I adorable? Needless to say, parenting has been full
My daughter had her first day of kindergarten last week. It went exactly how I had expected – smoothly and effortless. The only one with tears in their eyes was me (after I left my big girl in line with her new kindergarten friends and she couldn’t see me). From that day forward it was all sunshine,
Spontaneity and flexibility do not always come very easily for me. If you only knew what is involved when I decide to be “spontaneous” you would laugh because when I say “spontaneous” what I mean is that I’ve attempted to mentally calculate every possible outcome based on my options, and have made an imaginary list of pros and cons, all while being on the verge of a
All through the house, not a creature was stirring not even…. oh wait a minute. That’s a lie. It’s 4:30 in the morning and I’ve been awake ALL NIGHT running back and forth between my daughters’ bedrooms. One has the stomach bug (for the second time within a month) and the other has an ear
“I can do it myself!” is a phrase I hear A LOT from my four-year-old daughter. She usually wants to do e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g herself without any help be it anything from pouring her own milk to picking out her clothes for the day and anything else in between. Sometimes it’s difficult for me to accept that she is becoming so grown up and that
“Ugh. I just can’t wait until we are past this stage.” These are the words that my husband and I have been muttering quite a bit lately. Especially when our youngest wakes up in the middle of the night, crying until we cave in (which I’ll admit, doesn’t take long) and bring her into bed with us. Or when our four-year
I am 30 years old. It wasn’t that long ago I was living in the 80’s and enjoying my childhood in all its carefree, Tina Turner, high-top sneakers and voluminous hair-sprayed bangs, glory. At least it doesn’t feel like that long ago. Now with 2 young children of my own I have become much more aware
I have a dream. That one day, my young daughters will grow up to become independent women. “All the women who are independent Throw your hands up at me” Sorry, I just could not resist the perfect opportunity to throw in some Beyoncé lyrics. Yes, my daughters are both under the age of four, but it is
