my view this morning.

The sunlight streaming through the blinds this morning was so amazing, and I couldn't help myself.

I grabbed my camera and easily took over a hundred pictures.

I know some of these are a little soft, but I don't care.

To me, they're full of the most beautiful things in my life,

and in these moments,

we were happy.

Read more...

mother

Every day I look at my son, and I discover new angles and planes to his face that I've never seen before.
He changes bit-by-bit, right before my eyes, so that there is always something new to see if I just give him enough time.

Being a mother is hard.

Lately I keep wondering if I was really cut out for this job, or if I only thought I was (and wanted to be).

Is that possible, though?
Are you meant to be a mother as soon as your child arrives in your arms? Or is it possible to have a child, and yet not possible to be a mother?

(I know I'm treading on shaky ground here. I don't mean that I don't want to be a mother, but rather am I meant to be one. There is a difference.)

I feel sad, and guilty, and very ashamed admitting that motherhood makes me feel completely inadequate. Especially because I really felt like I had a handle on this whole thing--yes, the first five months were tough in the sleep-deprivation, discovering-a-new-person, figuring-out-breastfeeding, etc. sort of ways. But I felt like I was doing it well. I had the routine down, I had the hippie "communicate with your baby" principles, and everyone was pretty happy.

But now? Now I feel like I'm stumbling and tripping through motherhood. It feels awkward, and all I can see are the holes where my inadequacies are staring me in the face. I look around, and it looks like all the other moms with babies my age have finally hit their stride, and I'm sad, because I feel like I've passed mine.
Already?

I just don't feel like I have enough--not enough patience, not enough kindness, not enough knowledge, not enough energy, not enough ______.

Most days, I hit the couch around three p.m. and I look at Jameson and think, "What am I supposed to do with you now?" And there is guilt, for letting my child down, for not being what he needs.

(I hope you know the risk I'm taking here, by telling you this.)

Most days (but not all. Not enough.) I get so much joy out of being a mother.
I love watching him grow and change.
I like going for walks to cafes, and drinking coffee while he learns to eat.
I love making him smile, and hearing him laugh and knowing that it's me he finds so funny.
I love that he's learning how to hug, and he wraps his arms so tight around my neck and burrows his face in the hollow of my throat.
I love that he makes so many noises now, and just stares while I talk, soaking it all in.
I love the swelling in my heart that I get when I look at him, and the awe that he is mine washes over me once more.

But then a bad day comes, and the house of cards comes crashing down, and I've got to build it all up once again. I just think about how I just have to get through that day, get to eight p.m., when I can nurse my son and lay him in his crib, and just sit still for a moment. Then there are a blessed few hours until I have to get up the next morning and do it all over again.

I don't know how to do this, motherhood.

I only know how to love him with an overflowing, ever-present love, and I just hope that it's enough.

Read more...

and over again.

It's kind of amazing to me how quickly my attitude can change when I am faced with a blinking, blank Word document, knowing that I have to hammer out 800 words on some mundane topic, as opposed to the "post" page that is just waiting for me to say whatever it is that I want.

I mean, we all know that I have a problem with authority and people telling me what to do, but this is a little ridiculous.

Anyway.

I kind of had a breakdown on the living room floor the other night.

I finished putting Jameson to bed, and as soon as I walked into the living room, he started to fuss. I had the weight of a week's worth of work needing to be finished in one night on my back, and I just couldn't take it anymore.
I didn't even cry (at first), I just laid flat on my back in the middle of the carpet and stared at the ceiling while babbling on about everything crammed into my too-small-to-carry-it-all-around brain.

"I just want to do what I'm created to do, and I don't even know what that is. I just want to do that thing that brings fulfillment, that lets me know that I am doing that thing that God put inside of me to do, but I can't find it. And how do I know when to fight for a dream that I think I could have, or settle for a life of responsibility?"

And then my wise and patient and ever-loving husband said, "What if you're not supposed to do all of the things you were created to do all at once?"

And I just thought, "I guess I'd never thought of that before."

Which is kind of dumb that I hadn't, if we're being honest. I mean, I've always tried to approach my life as having seasons, and I don't know how I didn't relate certain seasons of life to the things I'm supposed to be doing at certain times.
I was clearly not meant to be a wife and mother when I was seventeen and in college.
I probably won't be raising children when I'm seventy and living in my dream house (right? Ha).

But seriously. I'm here.
I'm a wife and a mother right now. That's what I do, it's who I am.
I also happen to write a little bit on the side to bring in some money, and if I'm not completely mentally inept after finishing that, I spit out messy words on a computer in the hopes that someone else will see and understand.
Maybe someday, or maybe even tomorrow, someone will see these words (or I'll get up the guts/energy/willpower to send them to someone) and they'll say to me, "Hey. I really think you've got important things to say, and the way you say them is intriguing and relate-able, and we want to give you some money to write more of these things and tell them to more people."
And I will be a happy, happy lady.

But for now, I need to focus on being here.
(Isn't that what it always comes back to, for me? Seriously, I don't know how anyone can keep reading this--it's got to get so redundant after awhile!)
I am enough, even without all of those roles.
I am enough when I don't write, when I don't mother, and when I don't wife.
I am enough in this depraved body, because Christ said I was enough.
And if He said so, why am I trying to say otherwise?

Ladies and Gentlemen, here sits Camille Nicole, back in the place she always finds herself--the beginning.

And it's okay.

Read more...

silence. [flashback friday]

Another post I found when looking in the "drafts" folder. Even though I'm not pregnant anymore, the sentiments remain the same. 

Confession: reading my Bible and spending time with the Lord has not been on my "Top 10 List of Things To Do" for the past few months.

I kept getting so caught up in everything else--the sheer exhaustion I felt when waking up every morning, the massive list of things I needed to get done before Jameson gets here, what I was going to eat that day, how I was going to survive the ache in my hips, etc.

I had started another daily Bible reading plan at the beginning of the year, and was doing okay for awhile, but my motivation slowly died out. This is also due to other life circumstances, but the roundabout point that I am making is that God has not been on the top of my priority list for awhile.

However, a few weeks ago I was hit with some pregnancy insomnia that had me out of bed at 6:30 am, sitting on the couch in silence. I figured that was as good a time as any to try and catch up on all of the scripture reading I had missed, so I made some coffee and got going. After figuring out where exactly I had left off and what was going on, I came across this passage:

"Like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered, so we must die. But God does not take away life; instead He devises ways so that a banished person may not remain estranged from Him."

[2 Samuel 14:14]

Sitting in the silence of my living room, with the sun crawling through the blinds and a cup of coffee in my hands, it washed over me once again--God wants me.

I don't know why this is so hard for me to understand sometimes.

I don't know why it's so easy for me to sit and think about how far away I feel from God and come to the conclusion that I must have done something to get on His bad side, and He's just waiting until I grovel at His feet before He'll take me back.

I don't know why I have this fear that He's going to take away the blessings He's given me, because I haven't lived up to the "conditions" that they must come with.

Why is it that the weaknesses in our lives just keep showing up in different ways? Someday, I will beat this body of flesh and I will win the battle. Until then, I'm just going to keep going, because I can't do anything else.

Read more...

an in-bed, typing-on-my-phone post.

I can't sleep.
There are so many things on my mind that I feel like my brain is going to explode.
Am I a good mother?
Am I hippy enough, what other natural things am I missing?
How much time do I devote to natural living, and how do I do it with a biblical worldview?
How do I even claim a biblical worldview when I haven't even made the time to sit down and be with the Lord for the past few days?
Am I teaching my son enough to set a foundation for the rest of his life?
How do I motivate myself to complete the mundane and unfulfilling work I do, while also pursuing work that I love?
Where is the balance between doing what you have to because you have to and fighting for a dream that might be too big?
How do you know that you're going to be the dreamer that makes it?
How do you know when the sacrifices a dream require are worth it? If I don't work this mundane job, my family doesn't have enough money to pay rent. So how can I all-of-a-sudden just up and say that I'm not going to do it anymore because I want to really take a stab at writing for myself? The whole "you've got what it takes" thing is nice, and encouraging, but when do you decide that reality has to take over and practicalities need to reign prominent?

I feel like I'm going in circles.
I feel like I keep coming up against the same questions and not getting any answers.
I feel like God has been silent for so long, that it is hard for me to remember what He sounds like.
I feel angry at Him, and then I feel ashamed for feeling angry, because how can I be mad at the God that has given me everything? But how can I not be angry at a God that has promised me a life abundant, and yet has left us in this financial and emotional state for over a year now?
How do I balance serving God because He simply is, with expecting great things of Him because I am supposed to ask and expect great things?

I want a revival.
I want deliverance.
I want to be so much more than I am: more patient, more loving, more faithful, more bold, more understanding, more humble, more like Him.
I want answers and I want to be satisfied with them.
I want to thrive, rather than just get by.
I want the eternal.

Read more...

five years, six days.

That title is probably misleading.

Maybe it should be "five years. six days".

Because what I am talking about is the fact that five years ago, my husband asked me out on our first date, and as a result, I am spending my sixth Valentine's day with him.

Not only that, but I get two Valentines now, because I have a son. (Score another one in the "having a boy" category. Sometimes being the only girl has it's perks.)

I woke up to these:

According to Hubs, Jameson picked these out for me.

A dozen red roses from my love.

And these:

Because he knows how much I love Valentine's Day, even though it's "commercial".

Apparently, this took a million years to make, and included an incredible mess.
All while I was spinning my butt off at the gym.
I love my guys.

Then Hubs took me to this restaurant, followed by this:

Then I got to hang out with these guys:

He's like, "Come on, Mom. That's enough now."

I love this. I know Jameson and I are out of focus, but it's my family.
We are happy.

And now I'm here.

Such a blessed woman, am I.
And a happy one, at that.

Read more...

currents

Jameson is still mega-sick, so we've been house-bound for the past few days. 
I spent Thursday night in the living room with him from midnight to 6:30am, and he got an early morning bath on Friday, after throwing up/pooping everywhere. It's been rough going for us, but I'm hoping that he is over the worst of it and can start getting better.


In the mean time, since my brain is running slower due to lack of sleep, here's a pretty nonsensical post about...me! (Because I know you're dying to know all about that topic, since it doesn't get talked about often enough. Ha.)


Reading: Thanks to the Kindle I received for Christmas (as well as the stack of six books from my sister-in-law), I have kind of managed to start reading for pleasure again. Hallelujah. I just finished reading this book, which was so packed full of emotion, I almost didn't know what to do with myself. It was so good, but it kind of hurt, too. At the end, I just grabbed Jameson and cuddled him until he got mad and started to cry.
I also finally finished this series, which was good, but I kind of felt like the last book just trudged along for awhile. I'm not sure I'd recommend it, simply because it was so incredibly graphic in some areas, but the plot line was decent, and the suspense was excellent.

Listening: During the winter time, I always fall back on a few favorites. Bon Iver, John Mayer, and Ray LaMontagne are never far from me. However, Florence and the Machine have recently found their way into my life, and I couldn't be happier. Oh, and how could I forget Sesame Street and Yo Gabba Gabba?

Watching: On the off chance that I do have time to watch TV, it's generally of the trashy, brain-candy type. After spending my day with a seven-month old, 'America's Next Top Model' or 'Made in Chelsea' are generally where it's at for me. However, Hubs and I have recently started watching 'Modern Family', and we always have our old friend 'Grey's Anatomy' to look forward to (when it finally makes it's way across the pond).

Pondering: The ins and outs of being a mom, as well as being a wife and daughter of the Lord, and how all of those things fit together. All of this will be coming out in a post shortly, I promise.
I've also been thinking a lot about adoption (it seems that all my friends have recently begun the process, or are considering beginning the process to adopt), and whether or not it could/should be considered a calling for all Christians. If anyone has any resources about this, I'd love to take a look at them...

Doing: I seem to have finally found a workout schedule that is do-able for me, and it involves a lot of spin classes, a Zumba class, and a body combat class. I am tired, but I feel good, and finally feel like I'm getting back to where I want to be.
Other than that, I'm trying to cram a little bit of work in during the evenings and generally being the best momma that I can. 


And there it is folks. Care to share your own currents?

Read more...

flashback friday

A snippet of a post that I started writing, but never finished:

I'm homesick today (but I'm not sure I can even explain what that means).

It's the middle of July, and there are rainclouds in the sky and a cool breeze blowing through the trees, and I just sit and think, "Where is summer?"

My son is sleeping in his swing right across from me, and the thoughts that tackle me when I look at him are overwhelming. The future seems so uncertain, especially with this new little guy, and I just feel like I am treading on unstable ground. Every day is different, down to how much sleep I get and how I feel physically. This is the biggest life change I've ever experienced, and I think I'm still in shock from it all.

I worry so much more now. I worry about his breathing, and his crying, and the little spots on his face, and the faces he makes, and all of the 'what-ifs' that hit me when we walk out the front door.

If I let it, this anxiety could consume me.
I'm sure I could attribute this to all of the hormones making their way out of my body right now, but I also know that this is probably just going to be the battle I fight for the rest of my life.
I'm a momma now, and suddenly, my heart is encapsulated in this little person, which means that I will always worry.

Six months later, and I am happy to report that the anxiety has gotten easier to manage, but is still around.


Looking back at this, I feel like I've gotten some sort of a handle on motherhood, even if it's just that I know my son now, and so am more familiar with what is normal (and what is not). I think the pendulum has swung the other way, and now I'm working on finding a balance between being a mom, and a wife, and still being myself and doing the things that feed my soul.


Any tips are greatly appreciated.

Read more...

where are the words?

Jameson has been sick for the past few days, so I'm starting to get a little stir-crazy over here.

We took him to the doctor yesterday (which required waking up bright and early to make sure that we were one of the first in line, so that we didn't have to sit in the waiting room with a sick infant for two hours...), and she told us that it's probably some sort of virus and the best thing to do is to just wait it out and let his immune system take care of it.

Which is beneficial in the long run, I know, but it's so sad to live through. The good news is that it hasn't really seemed to phase him (other than the snot everywhere and the coughing), and he's just as happy as ever. For the most part. The problem is that we got about four inches of snow the other day, and I'm not sure I'm up to wrestling the stroller through the sludge with a sick baby in order to escape the house for a few hours.

Although, check back with me in a few days, if he doesn't start to get better soon.

Anyway...this is pretty much just a lot of nothing. I guess I'm lacking in inspiration tonight, which I'm working on letting myself be okay with. I think I need to start remembering the discipline behind the talent, which means consistently practicing the talent, even when I don't feel inspired.

You lucky few just happen to be on the receiving end of the nonsense.

As a sidenote, thank you for the encouragement about the whole "pursue your dreams" thing. It gave me a lot to think about, and it's all still percolating right now...I think my biggest dilemma is finding the time and energy to essentially start my own business/brand/image while also fulfilling my responsibilities as a wife and momma.
And staying sane. Because that's equally as important.

Drink tea, and stay warm.

-C

Read more...

tired.

I didn't really want to sit down here and write this.

But then I thought about how I've let what I want dictate what I do for far too long. And the problem with this is that I always give up what I really want for what I want-right-now.
And in the end, it is just never, ever worth it.
Ever.

I spent a good couple of hours last night working on my "business" (I guess, if that's what you want to call it). It made me tired. Probably because I realized just how much work there is to go through to get to where I want to be.
And then this cues the question, "Where do you want to be?"

And I just don't know the answer, exactly.

I guess I want to be here, but making a living off of here. I guess I wish that I could find people that would give me money to write these sorts of things, and take these kinds of pictures, and I could just keep doing what I'm doing, but making a contribution towards our finances at the same time.

Part of the problem is that all of this requires time, and I just don't have that much of it.
I'm in full-time momma mode, now that Hubs is back to work, and while I love it so much, it is also completely exhausting. And then, when Hubs is not working, I am escaping to the gym for an hour, then making dinner, and then sitting down to write things that I don't really care about, because it's the only form of writing that pays. And don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the work. I really, really am.

But how do you work towards the dream job when the real job takes up too much time?

I know I've got to start being more regular with this space. That's the only way to make, and keep, readers--by giving you something to read.
So I'm going to do my best. I'm going to try that whole "scheduled post" thing, and I'm going to attempt to devote some of my working time to writing what I want to write.
And then I'm going to hope that someone takes pity on me and gives me a break.

And I'm toying with the idea of an amateur photography business. I know.
It kind of kills me, because I actually really love photography and I really want to be better at it, but I get so discouraged and bogged down when I see that everyone and their mother that owns a DSLR has decided to open up their own business too. I just think, why would anyone choose me?
But then I've got to go back to doing something because I love to do it, and leveling with people.

I can take good pictures.
I also write well.
And at the end of the day, I need to own this talent, and refine it, and then go out and sell it for what it's worth.

So. Anybody out there want to cut this struggling artist a break?

Read more...

this thing called marriage.

There have been a lot of posts lately talking about whether or not marriage is hard.

I think this was all spurned by the Driscoll's new book that came out recently, and even though I haven't read said book, I've read the posts around it.

To be honest, I was a little surprised. Most of the posts I've read have all been talking about how this thing called marriage is not hard, and the surprising ease that they found during their first year together. And while I don't discount this at all, I feel like it's not necessarily fair to those of us that did have a hard time.

Because let's be honest here (since that's what I do).

My first year of marriage was probably one of the hardest things I've ever faced.

BUT

 it was also one of the best.

And here's the thing. I got married at the ripe old age of nineteen, halfway through my second year of Bible college. When I got back to campus in the fall after we got married, I was surrounded by couples who had tied the knot that summer as well.
And that whole semester, I spent a good chunk of time worrying that we had made a mistake, because look at everyone else, they're so happy and all they talk about is how happy they are and how great marriage is, and gosh, we sure do have a lot of problems compared to everyone else...

And I just wish I had known that it was okay to wonder if we had made a mistake.
It was okay to feel like I hated this life, and to wish that I could just go back home and not do this anymore.

The problem is that no one warned me that it was going to be this hard, and that my husband and I would get in big fights late at night, and that I would cry and he would get angry, because we are imperfect, sinful people. No one wanted to talk about how marriage is like God holding up a big mirror that shows all of the bad parts of you and says, "Well kid, take a look. This is the truth, and there are parts of it that are pretty ugly." No one wanted to tell me just how selfish I was, and how I was going to have to learn how to say, "I'm sorry" and mean it even when I didn't want to.

So, I'm talking about it.
My first year of marriage was incredibly difficult, but it was also incredibly wonderful. There were moments that could have been pulled out of your favorite romantic movie, and moments that I will cherish for the rest of my life. But it was hard. And that's okay.
Because it's even better now, and I get to realize that and see how far we've come. And this is all okay with me. God has used my marriage like a refining fire, and even though I am far from done, I am proud to say that I have made progress.

And even though I sometimes get jealous of those people that have had a really easy time in their marriage, God is making me see that every relationship is different, and this just happens to be ours. Comparison is the kiss of death, it's the cause of all discontent, and it can be fatal to your marriage.

To my husband, thank you for loving me despite all of the roadblocks and difficulties we've faced. Thank you for forgiving me thousands of times, and showing me what sacrificial love looks like. Thank you for being my best friend, and making me laugh like no one else can.
I respect you so much, and I am so proud to call you my husband, and the father of my son.

To everyone else, I hope you won't judge too harshly.
And if someone else resonates with this, I hope you will realize that it's okay for something to be hard. That doesn't make it wrong, and it doesn't mean that you've made a mistake. It just means that it's going to take some work, but it's going to be worth it.

Read more...

catch-up

It's sunny but cold today, and I'm already on my third cup of (decaf) tea.
Jameson's still napping and I've finished working for the day.
We're almost out of milk and I'm trying to decide whether or not to rinse that load of laundry again.

I miss writing beautiful things.

I was completely content today, right here in this tiny town with it's lack of social activities and my inability to drive a car.

Jameson and I went out to a baby-friendly cafe, and I ate cake and drank coffee, while he sat in a highchair and gummed a baby rice cake. I made him laugh and he hugged me with his sticky fingers, and then a friend of ours coincidentally popped in and we ended up talking for an hour while she ate lunch with her two-year old, and the little bean-baby that is growing in her belly.

On the walk home, I looked at the sky and breathed in clean air, and reveled in the fact that I was okay, we were happy, and that I didn't have a burning desire to be anywhere else at that moment.

I don't know what this means.
Maybe it doesn't mean anything, or maybe it means everything.

Either way, it was nice.

Here's what life looks like lately. (And here's a promise to start working on photography again. Cause I need to.)

Hanging out at Uncle Jordan and Aunt Brandi's apartment in Dallas.

Oatmeal wasn't his favorite...

Gong Xi Fai Cai! (Or, Happy Chinese New Year!)

Double crowns. This may pose problems in the future.

Sesame Street. He loves it.

The gluten-intolerant's version of a ham sandwich.

Read more...

the return.

Ah, England. We meet again.

We've been "home" for almost a week now, and I am happy to report that we are pretty much settled back in and the jetlag is nearly out of our system. There are a million and one things that I need to work/think/pray through after our trip to America, and I am sure that they'll come out on here in time.

We had an amazing visit with so many amazing people, and I am just now processing how blessed I am, and how much support I have, even when I feel like I am in a very lonely place. It's interesting to see how God has given me the most incredible friends and family, and how I have not been able to find anyone similar in any of the places I've been. Seriously, I have been given the cream of the crop, and I am so happy about it.

Jameson was such a trooper during the whole trip--even the 10 hour plane rides where he had an ear infection and a cold. He was a rockstar baby, and people were constantly telling us, "Your baby is so well-behaved, and he is SO beautiful!" We would just smile and say thank you, but inside I was going, "I know, right? I got the best one."

He loved, loved, loved meeting his family in America, including 7 new grandparents (that's right folks, 7. We churn 'em out young in my family. Haha) including his great-great-grandma and 2 new aunts.

He also got to meet his godparents (outside of the womb), and the church family that has been loving on him and praying for him since he was the size of a poppyseed inside of my belly.

We had a dedication ceremony at church that was perfect, and exactly what Hubs and I wanted.

We got to celebrate my 23rd birthday at Spaghetti Factory, where I gorged myself on gluten-free pasta and wine, and laughed hysterically with my family.

Christmas was wonderful, and Jameson was spoiled beyond belief. We literally had to bring an extra suitcase back with us, that's how much stuff we picked up.

I put on at least five pounds from gorging myself with Mexican food, In-N-Out, Chick-fil-a, Starbucks, Panda Express, and so many others that when I think about them I just get hungry.

It was wonderful, and the perfect five weeks, and we didn't take nearly enough pictures (but I'll try to start taking more since I got a CAMERA PURSE for Christmas from my amazing husband!!!).

I am sad to be back here, but I am also glad to be in my own space, working towards a new goal of going home to the States for good. For now, I am trying to soak up the time I have here, because I know that there will be things I'll miss when I leave.

Hopefully, more regular posting will start to occur, thanks the the new schedule that I have us on. We'll see how it goes.

Love, love.

C

Read more...

so this is the new year.

2012.

I can't believe that it's here.

2011 has been a year of so many ups and downs, so many incredible things happened (including the birth of my son), for the good and the bad.

To be honest, I haven't spent much time reflecting on it all, simply because I am trying to soak up as much time with my family as I possibly can. We've been in Utah for nearly 3 & 1/2 weeks now, and are leaving on Wednesday, and...I really just want to be here.

Now. 

Laughing with my sisters, 

and drinking (decaf) coffee with my parents, 

and watching my son get to know the American side of his family.

There will be posts with pictures to come (although, I've done a bad job of taking them. Again, I've just tried to be here with everyone, and not spend all my time behind a camera), and I'm sure the reflection will begin.

For now, I've decided that this year is going to be about taking better care of myself, so that I can take better care of my family. This includes all aspects: physical, emotional, and spiritual. 

I want to be a better woman for the Lord, a better wife, and a better mom.

So, 2012, here's to you. Let's see if we can't live it up, right?

Read more...

five months.

Jameson baby is five months old today.

Unbelievable.

Next month, he will be half of a year. *cue weepy mom moment*

He is growing up way too fast.

This past week, he learned how to blow raspberries (along with the giant string of drool that comes out with them). Now, when he's really happy and he likes you, you'll get a raspberry (and a spray of baby spit) in the face.

He can roll over, from back to front, and he is lightning fast. Seriously, about a second after you lay him down on his back, he's already kicking himself over so that he can be on his tummy. However, he's still not a fan on this position, and cries for you to come get him if you leave him there too long.

He smiles a bit more now, mostly when he's tired, but also when he thinks you're funny. His little laugh is so cute, and there is no one that can make him giggle more than his Papa.

The teething monster showed up almost a month and a half ago now, and we have yet to see any progress. I swear I can feel a sharp ridge on his bottom gums, but I still can't see anything. Ugh. Poor monster baby. The teething necklace is still definitely helping, but we've also resorted to teething granules a bit more frequently since his pain seems to be getting worse. I wish his teeth would just show up!

He still loves the boob milk, and I'm happy to keep it that way for now. We're going to start baby-led weaning around six months (as long as he's ready), and I'm excited for him to try new things. So far he's sucked on bits of honeydew, apple, and orange, and has made faces at all three. We're going with the "Food for fun until one" adage, and I'm planning on nursing him until he's a year old, but hopefully for a while longer.

We love cloth-diapering (there's a post coming on that soon) and Hubs is officially an advocate for it. There is just something about washing diapers and hanging them up to dry that speaks to my momma-hood. I'm not even sure I can explain it. It just feels right.

But really, the most exciting thing is that we leave for the States in FIVE days, and I can't wait! Although I'm not looking forward to the eight-hour plane ride (which is only one of many, many plane rides we will be taking), I'm at the point now where I don't even care. It's been over a year since I've been home, and I can't wait for everyone to meet the new man in my life.

And finally, here are some pictures. Because what blog post about my baby would be complete without the pictures?

He was "The Last Airbender" for Halloween.
Perfect, I know.

The concentration (and drool) is overwhelming.

Oh mom. You're so embarrassing.

My beautiful, beautiful baby.

The artsy shot.

Hey guys? Guys? Can you come get me now?

Love.

Read more...

that one time

So there was that one time that I was going to do this thing called "NaNoWriMo" and write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days.

There was also this time where I was going to lose the last ten pounds that I gained while I was pregnant with Jameson baby.

Not to mention that one time where I was planning on making sure that our house stopped eating most (if not all) processed food, and bought more fruits and vegetables.

Also, that time where I was going to play with my baby every day, and read him lots of books so that he would have a higher IQ to serve him better later in life.

And then, that time where I was going to start being a better wife by not nitpicking at my husband, and just being pleasant and biting my tongue when I thought I was wrong.

Oh yeah, there was also that time where I joined that one manic-lady's website about keeping your house clean and organized, and she sends you a million emails a day so that you get to practice tossing clutter out of your inbox.

And I just remembered, that time where God and I were going to really carve out some quality time together, and I was going to read my Bible daily and start journaling again.

But then, there were all those other times where the sun stopped shining, the baby wouldn't go to sleep, all I could find to eat was cereal, I couldn't come up with a plot line, and I didn't have enough energy to get off the couch, let alone clean my house.

Maybe tomorrow will be better.

Read more...

teething (and this thing called Baltic Amber).

It has arrived.
That thing that I was dreading...

TEETHING.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my son decided to exhibit teething symptoms at 3 1/2 months old, and much to his parents delight, we discovered that this can go on for nearly two months before the teeth even break through!

Awesome. Except not.

Anyway, after Jameson had been replaced by this rabid, drooling, biting, dramababy, I realized that we were going to need something to help us cope, ASAP. Besides the bottles of wine that we've been buying (that's parental coping mechanisms, thank you), I discovered this thing called a Baltic amber teething necklace through a friend of mine who had recently purchased one for her daughter.

I was kind of skeptical about it, because it's not something that they chew on, but rather the amber has these analgesic (big word for painkiller) properties that are supposed to help relieve pain as well as other symptoms of teething. When I asked my friend how her baby had done with it, she was so enthusiastic about it that she told me that she had decided to open her own store (www.viavaleron.com) and sell them herself.

Well, okay then.

Cue me, frantically emailing Mandy one afternoon, begging her to ship me an amber necklace internationally, because my child is crying and shoving everything he can into his mouth and I don't want to dose him up on Calpol (the UK version of Tylenol).

She emailed me back super fast, told me to pick out the one I wanted, and then she mailed it for me the next day. It took about a week to get here, and I was so excited that I was literally stalking the mailman for the few days before it came.

When I opened up my package, I saw this:

It's here! Yayayayayayaay!

I love the plastic clasp for safety, and it looks nice. There are knots in-between each individual bead,
so that if it happens to break, only one bead will fall off, lessening the choking hazard.

The best part about this whole thing is that it looks cute.

I put it on Jameson and cooed at him, cause he's adorable. He didn't even notice that it was there, and still hasn't, I don't think.

Look at my pretty baby.

Aaaand, another pretty baby shot. I can't help it.

So, besides the cute factor, let's talk about whether the thing actually works or not.

The night after we put it on him, he slept in for an extra hour (praise be to the Lord, God Almighty!) and took an extra long nap. I think he'd been so tired, but hurting too much to sleep, and this finally took the edge off of it for him.
I also noticed that his drooling was drastically reduced, and he didn't seem so frantic for something to relieve his pain.

He's had a few frantic moments since we put the necklace on him, where he seems to need a little bit extra "relief", so we give him homeopathic teething granules, but overall I'm really happy with the result. The combination of the two remedies has seemed to make life more bearable for this guy, and thus, more bearable for his parents. Even Hubs, who is the Biggest Skeptic of Them All has admitted that the necklace works and it was TOTALLY worth it.

I love the fact that a) it's natural (cause we all know how granola I've become) and b) it's cute. He looks like a little rockstar.

So, Mommas with crazy babies, I highly recommend that you click on this link, and go check out Mandy's shop. She's amazing to do business with, and I know that you're going to get the real thing and not some plastic imitation. The best part of it all, is that it helps not only with teething, but also just boosts their immune system in general, so you can leave it on all the time (we wrap it his around his ankle at night). I'm really debating whether or not to buy one for myself as an early Christmas present...(time will tell). Plus, if you like her facebook page, she'll give you 10% off, because she's just that nice.

And, okay, one last adorable baby picture. Because I can.

This guy has my heart.

*I received 50% off my order through a promotional review deal, however the thoughts and opinions expressed in this review are my own.

Read more...

them.

You know how there always seems to be that one person in your life that always manages to get what you want, only a little bit better, or a little bit more?

They're always there, somehow, kind of showing you up in this inadvertent manner that just drives you crazy, and makes you wonder if there's anywhere in the world you'll be able to go and escape from them.

A snippet of information here, a mention there...and suddenly you find yourself rocketed back into the one place you swore you'd never go again.

Jealous? Really?

But the problem is, in the end, it's always up to you to do what you want. So, even though they seem to have achieved that other level that you can never reach, when you step back and look at things, you have to admit to yourself, "If I had really wanted this, I could have tried harder. I could have fought a little bit more, carved out a little more time. I could have chosen this over that and then I'd be in a different place altogether...but is that really what I want?"

I guess I'm finding out that growing up means letting go of dreams and not begrudging other people theirs, even when you question whether it was ever truly their own.

And not only that, but life is about trade-offs. You get this, but you don't get that.

You have an amazing family, and a son that is beyond words.

You don't have a book deal in the works, and a flat stomach paired with a nice tan.

You live in a country that people would die to visit, and you've got international experience.

You don't live near your family, or see the sunshine, or feel comfortable in your own skin.

And I guess, in the end, that's just going to have to be okay.

Read more...

baby terrorist.

Baby terrorist with evidence of puke-bombing on his pants.
Satisfied with his work.

Yeah, that's right. 

Apparently, Jameson has decided to let the world know that he hates mom, and has targeted me for his baby puke bombs that he drops at random.

It doesn't matter how long it's been since he's eaten, or how many burps he's just done, or how nicely I am cooing at him--BAM!

Puke bomb on mom's shoulder.

Even Hubs has admitted that he is definitely targeting me, but also says that I need to learn better burp-cloth technique.

Whatever. 

This means war, baby terrorist.

Plotting his next puke-bomb attack.

Read more...

half of a grapefruit and other things

In my attempt to get myself into some sort of shape that doesn't resemble "squishy", I found myself eating 1/2 of a grapefruit this morning while I was waiting for the mini egg casseroles I had made to finish baking. It was kind of a weird moment, because 1/2 a grapefruit has always seemed like the typical "diet" food, the kind of thing you hear twig-like women asking for in the mornings.
I've never been a big grapefruit person, and I just happened to have one in my kitchen since my mother-in-law had gotten it on sale at Tesco. It was kind of ironic that I had just finished reading a blog post by a really skinny person, detailing how they ate 1/2 a grapefruit every morning before the rest of their breakfast in order to help their food digest better, and to also get a fruit serving in.
So, I ate it, and it tasted okay. And then I ate three mini egg casseroles, cause they were only 97 calories each. However, it was after eating three of them that I realized that eggs do nothing for me, and the only way I ever feel "full" is if I throw some carbohydrates and starches in there. Too bad I'd just consumed my morning calorie allowance.

Cue also the fact that I can no longer drink caffeine (at least until I don't have a child attached to my boob), and you have me, sitting on my couch in my sweatpants that probably need to be washed at 11:15 in the morning, not doing anything because we've finally gotten the baby down for a nap, and blogging about food.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my new reality.

I did get a load of laundry going already, and I folded yesterday's, so that counts for something, right? I also have plans to go to the gym later (after bebeh wakes up) and I even have a pumped bottle of milk in the fridge so that Hubs can feed him.

Someday I'll write intelligent, interesting things again.
For now, you get the musings and scattered thought processes of a 22-year old mom who is trying her best to look 22 again, keep her house clean like she's 35, and cook like she's 50.

Awesome.

Read more...