some things we've been learning lately

here are some things we've been learning lately: 

+ how to walk!!

in the morning when i rise, and in the evening when i put cruz to bed, i pray that he will learn to walk. 

i was going to give myself two more months of crawling before a full-on panic began. 

 crawling, you are so 2011.

+ all about snacks.

cruz lovingly says "sna" and gets all dreamy-faced when you give him a cracker.

we walked into trader joe's the other day and he pointed at the sample counter and began demanding "num num! num num!" 

+ don't start anything you can't finish.

this is the golden rule of raising a toddler.

now, i don't know it from experience (because obviously who in their right mind would do this), but i have this friend who let her 15 month old play with her iphone and now he makes it known that the phone is his every time he sees it. 

don't start anything you can't finish.

+ the iphone.

if you ever want to learn some cool tricks that your iphone does, hand it to a 15 month old. so i hear.

+ how to fly with a toddler.

we recently wrestled an octopus for two hours flew to seattle and back, and discovered that the two best things you can do on a flight are 1) feed that kid for the entire length of the trip and 2) sit behind another toddler.
if you can't do that, you're screwed.

+ that little pitchers have big ears.
as i've mentioned before, i like to watch the daily show while i get our breakfast ready.
yesterday "gitmo" was on to talk with jon stewart. gitmo is basically elmo with a beard, and who has been detained at guantanamo bay indefinitely. this sounds weird if you don't watch tds, and is a little weird even if you do.
well, cruz, who has never watched sesame street but voraciously reads elmo books, looked at my computer screen, started pointing and saying "e'mo! e'mo!"
if he starts saying, "this is the final rose," i'm really in trouble.

+ cruz is a teething champ.
on our way to the airport, i happened to glance into cruz's mouth and noticed that he had cut four new teeth without so much as a peep.
having endured my fair share of teething woes, all i can say is "bless you, boy."

+ language development is complex.
cruz points to a monkey. i say, "that's a monkey."
next time, cruz points to a monkey and says (something similar to) "monkey."
cruz dives for the tv remote. i take it away and says, "that's mommy's."
next time, cruz points to the remote and says, "mommy."
hm.

Finding Love: I Will Never Feel Fully Comfortable in Anthropologie Again

My husband takes fantasy sports very seriously.

(Can I get an amen and a sympathetic eye roll from the rest of the wives in the League?)

I used to joke with him that someday I would go into labor and he would have to choose-- football draft or hospital.

I was slightly nervous about this choice.

Earlier in my pregnancy I reminded him that the league's basketball draft was normally mid-October, right before two of the wives were due.

So they moved up the draft.

Ha. Haha.

The weekend before the baby was born-- at our five year college reunion!

On October 10, the boys held their basketball draft while the girls and I went shopping downtown. Baby E (as he was known at the time) was due in twelve days.

I think we all know how this is going to end. 

It's any modern girl's dream: I went into labor while shopping at Anthropologie.

My girlfriends were looking around while I sat through my contractions on one of those cute vintage-y chairs no one ever sits on.
And now no one ever will.

(Hey-- did you guys end up buying anything? There was a lot of cute stuff there last fall.)

We cut our shopping trip short when I could no longer walk through the contractions and started needing other people to make decisions for me. 

It actually turned out to be a great rest of the afternoon!

Colette picked up Blenders for us. 

We snuggled in the guest bedroom while the guys finished up their draft.

 I timed my contractions on my iphone, while we watched Jerseylicious. 

It was great, you know, except for the rising panic that WE WERE ABOUT TO HAVE A BABY.

Somehow, on the day the baby is born, nine months doesn't seem like quite enough time to get ready.

Well, we weren't ready. I wasn't ready.

I didn't really have a bag packed and certainly didn't have a music playlist together like I had planned on.

(Incidentally, if a playlist on your ipod helped you through labor, I would like to talk with you.)

After our guests left ("We'll call you from the hospital!" we joked, still a little bit in denial), I waddled downstairs and sat on the couch, very helpfully.

I felt the need to be very calm, very controlled, and to keep timing those contractions.

Several hours passed like this, I'm sure, because we didn't leave for the hospital until about 7pm, after my contractions had been five minutes apart since about 3:00.

But I remember very little.

Abby is mere hours away from becoming a big sister, whether she likes it or not.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, I was not convinced that I was actually in labor. 

I kept delaying leaving the house, totally hung up about having a "false alarm" at the hospital. 

So, friends-- do not be hung up about going to the hospital if you suspect you may be in labor. The nurses will be really nice to you and you will probably get a popsicle for your pains.

(And by pains, I do mean the five exams you'll undergo to see if you are dilated.)

Tovi got my bag packed and convinced me that there was no shame in doing a "trial run." 
That the worst that could happen would be that we would come home, no one needed to know that we were going to the hospital, and that I could even take the next day off work if I was still having contractions.


Pat Abby goodbye.
Waddle, waddle out to the car.
Snuggle into my pillow through each contraction.
Here we go.

The Ol' Switcheroo

Dear Friends, 

As a young girl, I was once asked to make a collage of a food group.

Nursery school style, that's how I roll.

I made one of chocolate (to my mama's extreme embarrassment, I am sure).

People, I lead a meat and carb happy lifestyle. I've been to South America! 

Rice, beans, chicken and some cake for dessert?

Wash it all down with a Fanta?

Muita obrigado, I think I will.

I don't do fruit.

It has become startlingly clear to me that Cruz eats better than I do.

Here is what he ate today:

mango, bananas, applesauce, carrots, sweet potatoes.

Want to know what he doesn't like?

Cereal.

In college I could eat cereal three meals a day without batting an eye.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, average build, no cereal... whose kid is this?

So I've done what every enterprising mama has done since the dawn of time... I sneak it in.

This morning as Cruz ate his banana (with hidden oatmeal), I eyed my own bowl of oatmeal and his leftover banana puree.

No... that's crazy, right?

Confessions of a Jetsettin' Mama

We just returned from a long, lovely, relaxing trip to Kauai. 

As usual, I have some thoughts.

From now on, I will have to travel with an entourage. End of story. We had seven adults and two kids on our trip. Anything less would have been crazy! If we weren't in a group, who would have held the baby while I worked on my tan?

I brought along So. Many. Toys. I wanted to ensure that my kid would be properly occupied on the plane. Could have saved myself the trouble. All he wanted was the plastic cup from the flight attendant. 

Don't want to change a baby on a plane? No problem. Double stuff that diap.

Want to know how much I love Harry Potter? I set up the pack-n-play in a closet. That's how much.

Ok, it was a really big closet. And it had windows, relax! 

Traveling with a baby is really different than with just a husband. We went to London in 2009, and one of our best memories of that trip was walking around Regents Park in the pouring rain. No one else was crazy there, which made the experience unforgettable. Well, it rained plenty in Kauai, but you just can't take a baby out in a monsoon. 

If you must travel with a baby, make sure he's a really cute one. Cruz literally stopped traffic wherever we went. See, fellow airplane passengers? Babies in flight aren't so bad!

Have you been to Kauai? No? Then you might not know about the Kauai chickens. These chickens seem to run the island. They are EVERYWHERE. One day, we picked up lunch at a tiny snack shop and took it across the street to a park. I had my plate next to me, when a rooster boldly walked up and ate something straight off of it! 

I may or may not have kept eating.

Hawaiians know a thing or two about cooking ribs. 

Just sayin'.

Also, these chickens are crazy. My father-in-law was describing (in great detail, natch) how he used to kill chickens as a young boy in Brazil. Even that didn't scare them away. 

Cruz was teething on the way to Kauai, and it showed. Omg, Fussy McFussersen. I was dreading the plane ride home, but he was a De.Light. He napped. He ate. He flirted with other passengers. He had a ball trying to grap everyone's ipod cords. I love God's Creation, and even more, I love God's People. I loved sharing one small bit of that with my son this week.

Don't tell my husband, but he was right. The minivan made getting the baby in and out so easy. 

Well, with that embarrassing confession, I think our time is up!

Getting to Paradise

We have made it to Kaua'i!!

But before you get to enjoy Kaua'i, you must get to Kaua'i. Like an initiation. 

Maybe you had a two month old who was a champion traveler. Maybe you secretly thought that the plane ride wouldn't be so bad. Maybe you had once scoffed at parents on planes. You will regret all of those thoughts.

I will tell you this. Three hours into a six hour flight, you will let your kid do whatever he wants to do.

And if that's playing on the floor of the plane, throwing everything out of your purse in chubby delight, so be it.

You may never see your iphone again, but at least you have thirty minutes to laugh your head off reading Bossypants.

Aleady paradise.

What He Wore On Wednesday

Good morning, friends!

Yesterday was a weird day. It involved a couple of  frantic embarrassing calls to the pediatrician, weaning off the swaddle (like a champ!), adventures in infant probiotics.

And apparently a lot of orange.

I won't even tell you what happened to his first outfit of the day. Unless you're my mom, and then you already had to sit through that fun play-by-play. 

Thanks for the romper, Auntie Co!

Off to watch the Fulham game!

Last night Chris Harrison tweeted about the Fulham match... it was like a twitter representation of our marriage. Worlds collided.

Thanks for the cool soccer sneaks, Tia Milady!

Cruz is obsessed with this orange cup. Let's be honest, I am too.

xo

Getting Pretty Comfortable Up Here On This Bandwagon

Or...

Can I bore you death with a talk about cloth diapers?

Last weekend two of my closest girlfriends were spending the weekend with us. We sat around in the living room chatting one morning, and later that afternoon I realized, 

"I talked to them about cloth diapering for thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. Do they even want to stay friends??"

Suffice it to say that there is very little I don't l-o-v-e about cloth diapers.

Get out of town. The diapers match his room!

Here are some other things that I've gotten on the bandwagon with:

Greek yogurt. That stuff is awesome!

Sleep training.  After several {rough} nights, I realized that I have spent weeks making excuses for why Cruz is no longer sleeping through the night. 

Time to get it together, people.

Our method du jour is The Baby Whisperer. 

Cruz hasn't slept through the night using it yet, but I am feeling much more in control of the situation. 

And I get it. Sleeping through the night is not necessarily the goal.

The goal is happy, healthy baby and a semi-coherent mum.

Cruz is allegedly taking a nap in this very crib.

Katy Perry. Cruz is a huge fan, so I have become one too. Weird, huh?

Meal replacement bars. I mean seriously... who is eating three great meals a day these days? If I have a bar for breakfast or lunch, I notice that I snack way less. This is good, because who has time to snack? Also, we are going to Hawaii in a few weeks. Are we crazy? Am I expected to wear a swim suit six months after giving birth? Don't get me wrong-- I am quite excited to go. But it wouldn't hurt me to keep hoppin' on the meal replacement bar bandwagon. Here are my faves

Well, I think that's about it for today! Wanna see a cute face? I thought you'd never ask!

One of those big, flashing neon signs.

Cruz and I are sleeping through reading Proverbs together. To be honest, I have never read through the entire book. Possibly because that Proverbs 31 gal is one intimidating chickie. 


But reading Proverbs out loud has stirred in my heart a desire to pursue wisdom and purity of heart in a new way. We have some new family adventures in front of us, and I can sense that the Lord will be using the months ahead to refine my character. 


Well, the Lord knows I need big bright neon signs before I wise up and start paying attention. So it was no surprise when our sermon at church was the first in a series on Proverbs. 


Our pastor talked about the need for a humble heart in order to gain wisdom. 
And that a humble heart comes from confession. 


And here's some truth, I can no longer just read the words of Proverbs. I need to start living them. 


Dang it. Confession is so hard. 
But here we go...


I have a jealous heart, and am so not proud of it. 


I say a lot things that I regret. I wish I spoke with more grace. That's good to remember: less snark, more grace.


I gossip. And I'm not just talking about celebrities. 


I watch way too much Real Housewives.


I am sorry that I am not always the wife/mama/daughter/friend/coworker that you deserve. 
Thank you all for the grace you continually give me. 


I don't like writing these things down. I'm afraid you'll look at me and think me undeserving. That you'll think badly of me. That you'll know (probably correctly) that in fact you are a better mama than I could hope to be. 


But, man oh man, do I want need to be humble and wise. 


Because look at this guy!

I want to be the kind of child of God that deserves this happiness.


And that starts with knowing that I never will. 


Guess that's grace. 


And there's this too:
Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
don't try to figure everything out on your own.
Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;
 he's the one who will keep you on track.
Don't assume that you know it all.
   Run to God! Run from evil!
Your body will glow with health,
   your very bones will vibrate with life!
Honor God with everything you own;
   give him the first and the best.
Your barns will burst,
   your wine vats will brim over.
But don't, dear friend, resent God's discipline;
   don't sulk under his loving correction.
It's the child he loves that God corrects;
   a father's delight is behind all this.

{Proverbs 3:5-6}

from The Message

Pick Your Poison

There are two phrases that have been cropping up around our house recently.

The first is "pick your poison."

As in, "Hey babe... the Pampers have blow outs up the back, and the Huggies have blow outs down the legs. So when you're putting on a new diaper, pick your poison."

The second phrase is "comedy of errors."

Picture me changing Cruz's diaper. His little feets squirm out of my grasp, he plops them right into the open diaper, then grabs his toes! "Cruz, this is a comedy of errors!" I yell, batting his paws away from his mouth and aiming a baby wipe in his direction. 

Some days both these phrases converge into one terrifying situation. 

Let me preface this next story by saying I get it. Not only would I fail as a mother during olden times (no epidural! no bouncy chair! no free diaper delivery!), but I'm pretty sure we would never leave the house if we lived anywhere but Southern California. A tip of the hat to all you Mamas living across America. And, you know, experiencing weather.

For us, today was not like any other day because it was raining. Yes, I grew up in Seattle. Yes, I should be used to the rain. But no no I am not. As today will prove, I have no good way of transporting a child in anything but perfect weather conditions. We first head to the mall to buy a shower gift. At this point, Cruz is in the stroller, with all sorts of coverings draped over his head to ward off the raindrops. After a quick pop-in at J Crew, we finally make it over the Macy's. Where the store has not one single item on the registry available. 

Yes, says the lady. Look at the paper. You need to order all of these online. 

Ugh. Shopping can drive me crazy. Cruz is beginning to wake up, and I'm losing confidence that I've timed his nap to perfectly coincide with this trip. We get back to the car. It's raining harder and the mamamobile needs gas. Cruz starts to lose it, and I know I'm never going to make it to our next set of errands without feeding him. 

It's starting to pour. 

We drive to Glenda's Party Cove and the parking lot is PACKED. The good people of Santa Barbara are desperate for party supplies, overpriced groceries and fine jewelry at lunch time, I guess. Whatever the reason, I circle the lot many times to the tunes of a wailing baby. I finally find a spot and pop into the backseat to grab Cruz. Nursing in the car is not my favorite. It feels pretty awkward, even when I'm all covered up. It is more awkward when someone sees me hop back into the front seat and thinks that I'm about the pull out. I also think she saw me carrying the baby. So maybe she was just making sure I didn't drive off with Cruz in the front seat, a la Britney Spears. Nevertheless, she sat behind my car for a good five minutes, a line forming behind her. She lays on the horn. Move along, sister. We aren't going anywhere.

Errand, errand, errand and we're finally on to the last stop of the day. The rain is coming down in sheets. Earlier, as I tore through the house looking (unsuccessfully) for my Costco card (our last destination of the day), I cried out in an attempt to maintain my sanity, "Cruz, this is a comedy of errors!" He munched on his fists in agreement. 

I'm carrying Cruz in the Ergo around Costco. We've taken a new card picture together. Cute. The ladies in customer service all come over to take a look at it. I do not take for granted that I find everything I'm looking for (and then some. It is Costco, after all). We step out of the store and it all happens at once.

The rain before is nothing compared to the rain now. It's dark. It's windy. I am pushing a cart full of bulky boxes. I curse feminism as I walk to the car through standing water. Is there no knight in shining armor to swoop down and offer to help load the car? Is a little chivalry too much to ask? I actually consider offering money to a young man I cross paths with {note: my husband was not along for this trip because he was coaching his team in the first round of CIF playoffs and generally kicking butt as a high school soccer coach}. Alone, I face the question mamas have faced for years-- baby or groceries.

Pick your poison. 

If I load the baby into the car first, I keep him as dry as possible. But then he'll be left alone in the car when I return the cart. I have read enough online commentary to know that this is the Worst Thing Moms Do. Also, while taking Cruz out of the Ergo and strapping him back into his car seat, all of the groceries in the cart will get ruined by the rain. So I opt to load the groceries first, keeping the baby out in the wet. Bless him, Cruz just sleeps through the whole thing. 

Was that the right thing to do? Will I have a present for the shower tomorrow? What were all those people doing in the plaza parking lot? We may never know the answers to these questions. But at least we looked great all day long!

Little Baby, Big Stuff (0-4 months edition)

When I was a bride of just five weeks, I attended the wedding of some of our best friends. I was bursting with the pride of being Tovi's wife and filled with the knowledge of what it takes to Be A Good Wife and Run A Home. I wanted to share {everything} I had learned with my friend. I probably did, and she was sweet enough to tolerate my hubris.

Four and a half years later, I actually wasn't that far off the mark. But of course, I chuckle at myself. Such a newbie. So full of pride.

I recognized the same tendancy in myself when trying to pick out a present for a baby shower the other week. I wanted to buy her {everything} that we love and can't live without. I reigned myself in and bought something off her registry.

But I can only reign myself in for so long!

Here it is, the Top Ten Twelve Products We Love!

12. Munchkin Microwave Sterilizers
Bottles, breastpump accessories, pacis, toys... they all go in this bag, into the microwave for 90 seconds and come out clean and germ-free! Easy peesy. 

11. Soothies
This is Cruz's preferred brand of paci. He'll take other brands, but these are fail-safe. 

10. Gerber Organic Cloth Diapers
No, no. We don't cloth diaper this lad. Because I'm working , we made a value choice about going green in everything but diapers (aka, avoiding awkward walks through the office with a poopy diaper in hand). Sorry, Earth. But these puppies make the best burp cloths. Soft and extra absorbent. 

9. The Bouncer

We love our bouncer. Would kiss the bouncer if appropriate. Yup. I would marry that bouncer. How else do you think I get to shower and straighten my hair everyday? One day I was taking Cruz in the stroller and humming to myself, but couldn't quite place the song. I hummed it louder... ah. The bouncer music. 

8. Speaking of strollers...

We really love our BOB. It goes everywhere, is super light, and will be a great runner stroller once Cruz is a little older. Maybe you'll see me and him run the half-marathon together in November?

7. Amazon Mom
When you tell people that you're pregnant, they make a lot of the same remarks. 30% of these remarks are about the cost of diapers. However, thanks to Amazon Mom, the cost of diapers is the least of my concerns. I've really become obsessed with Amazon. I order everything on it. I'm probably single-handedly destroying Mom and Pop businesses in Santa Barbara because I never shop in regular stores! Actually, that's not true at all because if you've ever shopped at a baby store in SB, you'll know that "Mom and Pop" means "this $80 lovey is the least expensive thing we sell." So I embrace Amazon and it's free two-day shipping. 


6. Activity mats of all kinds

I would put one in every room in our house if I could. The bright colors kept Cruz entertained as an infant, and now he can reach all the hanging toys and (most importantly) cram them into his mouth.

5. Mirrors

Cruz is obsessed with looking at us in our mirrors. We spend long moments staring at our good-lookin' selves. 

4. The Nursing Mother's Companion

In the hospital, Cruz ate like a champ. I asked every health professional that came into our room to watch him eat, wanting to be armed with as much information and confidence as possible. When Cruz had trouble with latching on once we got home, I was beyond thankful to have my mom (a former lactation consultant) sit up with us at 4am. When Cruz was still having trouble the next day (and New Mom Panic was setting in), our saint of a pediatrician sent over a lactation consultant. The moral of the story is, breastfeeding is amazing AND hard. It would have been really easy to give up. But with help, education and encouragement, Cruz and I were able to get over our bumps in the road. And when the professionals were gone, I relied heavily on this book. It used to sit beside me for every feeding. Thank you, talented, all-knowing sister-in-law, for this great resource. 

3. Babywearing

We own a lot of carriers. Tovi prefers the Ergo-- it's comfortable, manly, and Cruz instantly falls asleep in it. We also own the Moby (best for extended wearing) and the LuckyBaby sling (best for in and out). Babywearing is so practical and easy. I love carrying Cruz around this way! And at work it's easy to put him in the sling and carry on with my job. 

My sling from the YodMom

2. Boppy

Or Brestfriend. Whichever. All I know is the nursing is work and these lifesavers make it much more enjoyable. Also, Must-Have Item 2B is extra Boppy covers. Nuff said. 

1. Magic Blanket Swaddle

AAAAA! I think this will be my go-to shower present for years and years to come. My brilliant sister-in-law gave us one, and when Cruz slept like a champ in it, I went out and bought more! We never go anywhere without this swaddle. Ob.Sessed. 

We own two of these!

There are oh so many things I wanted to put on this list! Clearly, I would have had a much harder time being a Mama twenty years ago, never mind the olden days. (Although in the olden days I would have been shipped away to one of those schools for the blind ala Mary in Little House on the Prairie, never to have a child. God bless lasik surgery!)


So enough about me... Mamas, Mama-in-Training and Veteran Mamas, what's on your baby product list?

Sarcasm as a Coping Mechanism

I had a cute post planned for today. It was not to be. 

This morning I overheard people I know talking about how you shouldn't have kids in your twenties. You know, because you aren't mature enough. And you just want to party. Um, ahem. I can hear you. Also you know me. Also I'm a pretty good mom so far. So obviously I did the mature thing. 

Sat in my office, cheeks burning, and drank a margarita.

I jest. But it was that kind of day. 

I was pooped on at work. I was peed on as I took Cruz out of the tub. 

I'm still in some of those same clothes because for the first time, I feel like I can't keep up with the laundry. 

Instead of the pasta from Pioneer Woman that I've been drooling over in my cook's heart, I am cooking a hamburger for dinner. Which is actually a step up from the bowl of cereal I contemplated eating earlier. 

I thought I had put my hair up in a high, sexy bun. You know, something that said, I'm so cute I don't even need to try. I looked at myself in the mirror. I look like a Who from Whoville. A Who wearing clothes that may or may not be covered in dirty bath water, spit up and baby urine. 

Hey! Look at the time. Are you trying to mosey on out of here or something? 

Will I convince you to stay if I tell you that Cruz found his toes today? He can curl himself into a delightful ball of baby. Been rocking back and forth all evening, grabbing onto those pups. I've already called Cirque du Soleil to let them know about my Wonder Boy. 

As a parting gift, I leave you with some Chub du Cruz.

Dear Lady

Dear Mama-in-Training,


I watched you with your baby, and wanted to bring something to your attention. Remember when you swaddled your son, held him in your arms for two minutes and then laid him down for a nap? Well, I'm sorry to say that you aren't having the real experience of being a mom.* That was just too easy. So after you change seven poopy diapers, feed the baby six times, pump during your 30 hour work week, sing loudly in the car to calm a crying baby, juggle baby and housework, google every developmental milestone, pray over the baby, do tummy time, give him new experiences daily, make faces-read-snuggle-dance all to get that elusive giggle... maybe you could try to keep him up and crying. Because then you'll really feel like a mom. For reals.


Lots of love,
The Lady




* Yup. Actual quote. True story. 

Passing the Fist

Back when Cruz resided in my tummy and was to known to the world as Baby E, we did two 3D ultrasounds. The first time, I took my mom along, as she lives far away and hadn't been to any Baby E appointments. The second time, Tovi and I went together. While we had a great experience all around, the ultrasounds were frankly a little disappointing. In the first, Baby E looked a lot like Horatio Sanz playing Saddam Houssein. True Story. I spent the next few weeks seriously worried about how cute my kid was going to be. During the second ultrasound, we could barely see the baby's face (lesson learned) because he chewed on his teensy fists for about thirty minutes. 


So we knew from an early age that this kid would want something to suck on.

Have you ever seen my copy of The Baby Book by Dr Sears? We recently received our new yellow pages phone book. The Baby Book is at least three times as thick, and no where in those many many pages does it promote using a pacifier. Instead, says the good doctor, let the baby suck on your finger. Rub his back and sing him a lullaby. Ha. Give a mama-in-training some help, Dr Sears!


{Does it count as more granola if the pacis are BPA free?}


Given the amount of fist sucking we saw in womb, I knew Cruz would want to use one, and I packed one in our hospital bag when he was born. And guess what? The kid LOVED it. 


I felt like I was breaking all the rules! By now, you should know that I love stripes, long showers, and following the rules. Cruz was only two days old and I was already rebelling against Dr. Sears! I remember lying in the hospital, Cruz peacefully sucking on his paci, it might have been the middle of the night. The nurse walked in the room and rather than get in trouble for letting him have a pacifier, I snatched it straight out of the baby's mouth and stuffed it under my pillow. I just hate breaking the rules! "Why is he crying?" asked my confused husband. "He was just fine." 


"He's just a baby," I said innocently. "He's going to cry."

 I don't know where I developed my paci complex. Maybe I thought it was cheating because it's such a surefire way of calming my baby down. I haven't suffered! Maybe it's because I never took one as a child, so inherently they're "bad." Whatever the case, I've always been a little defensive and apologetic about Cruz's addiction.


He's growing out of it.
He just really needs to suck on something.
If he doesn't have a paci, he tries to suck on his hands and scratches his face.
You know, things like that.


By the time Cruz was three months old, we had an official paci king on our hands. Those little suckers are everywhere in our house. I even Amazon'd a pack up to my parents' as back-up when we visited at Christmas. 


The day before I went back to work, I attended the baby shower of a good friend. She is a few years older than me, and most of her friends already have kids, which meant I was surrounded by veteran Mamas. During the lunch, Cruz was winding down for a nap and wanted his paci. I pulled one out of the diaper bag and made some self-deprecating comment about it. I never thought I'd be the kind of mom that let her kid use one, but you know how that goes...


The gal across the table looked me straight in the eye and said, "Oh please. We line our kid's crib with pacifiers in case he loses one the night. He falls asleep with one in his mouth and two in his hands." Next to her, the mom said, "They're all addicts. Only people without babies will tell you they're bad." One by one, every Mama at the table 'fessed up to pacifier use. 

There are so many expectations I've put on myself. Things I should or shouldn't do as a parent, based on nothing but what I think other people will approve of. But Cruz is patiently showing me how to parent him. As I relax into that, I am finding a lot of grace. Letting go of expectations is incredibly freeing. And while I'm learning, my paci king still reigns supreme. 

All You Need Is Love

I have been planning to do a cute blog post on all my can't-live-without baby gear. You know, like the Boppy, the activity mat, and a fat stack of Gerber organic cloth diapers. But then something happened to change all of that.

I used to be a mentor for a sweet, but pretty troubled, girl here in Santa Barbara. We were very close, but then as her life got back on track, we stopped seeing each other as much, and eventually she changed her phone number, and I had no way of getting back in contact with her. I missed our relationship a lot, thought about her constantly. I felt so sad that she didn't know Cruz and hadn't gone through that journey with me. 

As it turns out, she had.

Yesterday we got back in touch. She gave birth to a baby girl ten days ago.

Lord, when I asked for more friends with babies, this wasn't what I had in mind.

I am thrilled that we are back in touch, and looking forward to seeing her this coming weekend. But I am also grieving for her, for her little girl, and the dreams I've dreamt for her. 

When Cruz was born, my cousin told me, "You're going to be great at this because it's all about love." I have treasured those words in my heart. In my mind, I can also hear my Grandpa say, "All you need is love. But some brains wouldn't hurt either." 

So future mamas, mamas-in-training, and veteran mamas... I need your advice. How should I love her? What are the can't-live-without pieces of advice you have (for me and for her)? How can I balance the love with the brains? What would you do in my situation or hers? I truly believe that God brought us back together for a time such as this, and I want to be there for her in a brand new way.

And maybe I'll bring her a stack of Gerber diapers.