My Frat Boy

My friends call my oldest son The Frat Boy. I can't argue with them. He's rambunctious and loud and always the life of the party. When we go to the park, he runs up to kids he's never met and asks them to play. To him, a stranger is a simply a friend that he hasn't met yet. I love his unbridled enthusiasm and zest for life. He feels emotions so deeply. When he is happy, he is bursting with glee.  He shrieks with excitement and squeals with joy. His giggle is infectious.  When he is mad, watch out!  He's a pistol!

Carter is energy personified.  He has one speed: turbo charged.  He is determined and stubborn.  When he sets his mind to something, he cannot rest until it is done.  I have no doubt that he will be a great leader someday, but it is a challenge day to day to teach and discipline my feisty little person.

My prayer for him is that he never loses that spark. I hope he will always attack life with such with such vigor and passion.  I hope that he is always so unselfconscious and proud of the incredible person he is. 

Happy Birthday Carter!

Here's to 29

Here I am entering the last year of my 20s and I feel like I'm in a really good place. I spent my 20s figuring out who I am. I lived in 3 states, got married, went to culinary school, and started a family. I've had my adventures and now I'm settling into domestic life. I know who I am and I know who I'm not. I've developed my own taste and found my voice. I'm not afraid to be myself and I'm not seeking anyone's approval.

I was having lunch with my college roommate last week and we were discussing our shared excitement over buying our first homes. "And you won't believe the linen closets!" she exclaimed. We laughed about being so thrilled about such a seemingly mundane thing. I'm so glad that this is where we are. We are able to enjoy the little things, without worrying about if we're "cool" enough. Let's be honest: I never was anyways. This place in life is so comfortable and real. I feel like I am able to be my most authentic self and I am thankful for the wonderful people in my life who have always accepted me as I am. 

I'm ready for the victory lap of my 20s. Let's do it!

Restaurant Life

In my life before children, I woked as a line cook for a fine dining restaurant in San Diego. I still keep in contact with some of my industry friends and am so proud of their successes. I can't help but wonder where I would be today if I hadn't left.  I had gradually climbed my way up the ladder, from prep to garde manger (salad) to fryer to sauté. I wouldn't trade my life for anything, but part of me will always miss the excitement of restaurant cooking. There is no high like that of working in a kitchen on a busy Friday night. I love the dance of the cooks, moving together in smooth synchronization to the frantic hum of the ticket machine, printing orders without pause. Your mind spins in anticipation. The kitchen reaches a fevered pitch as chef barks out the next pick up. You feel the sweat slowly trickle down your back as you find your rhythm: sauté, stock, butter, salt. You grind it out at a merciless pace for hours, until the last plate is done.  Then you methodically put away your mise en place, scrub down the kitchen, and head to the bar across the street. That first beer after an exhausting shift tastes so refreshing. The intensity of the night wears off as your senses dull a bit.  

 I miss the comraderie and the (mostly) friendly competition among the other cooks. I miss pushing myself physically and getting creative with the finest ingredients. Cooking is something that is either in your soul or it isn't. It will always be a part of me, even if the only kitchen that I cook in now is in my home. 

My Mom

 I'll admit that I haven't always appreciated my mom like I should.  The teen years saw many eye rolls and "Oh Mother"s. The older I get, the more I realize that she really is always right. Now that I'm a mom, I appreciate her even more.  She is the most amazing role model. She has the patience of a saint, and the cleanest most organized house I have ever seen. She can whip up an amazing meal on the fly, refinish furniture, and somehow she manages to do it all while looking so beautiful and put together. We used to joke that we had never seen my mother and Martha Stuart in the same room...that was before Martha went to jail...awkward...

My mom gives the best advice and carries herself with class and poise. She's the kind of mom I want to be and the woman against whom I measure myself.  I really don't know what we would do without her. She is the glue that holds our family together. 

Words always fail me to properly thank her for all that she has done for me and everything she means to our family, but here I try again: 

Thank you for always taking the time to talk with me. Whether it's giving me a pep talk to get through another day after a sleepless night or laughing together over the silliness of toddlers. 

Thank you for giving the best advice and for not telling me "I told you so" when I fail to take it. 

Thank you for not killing me as a colicky baby or a surly teenager. I've had my moments and you've loved me through them all. 

Thank you for always thinking of me, for text messages, cards, and care packages. 

Thank you for teaching me that a chocolate malt can fix almost any problem. 

Thank you for being a shining example of what it means to be a wife and mother. 

I love you Mom!  Happy Mothers Day!

To My Second Born

I see you sitting in your bouncy seat as you watch me prepare breakfast for your brother. You wait patiently for your turn. As our eyes meet across the kitchen, the biggest grin spreads across your face. You give a hopeful little coo, shake your head from side to side and chew on your hand in sheer excitement. You don't have the luxury of my full attention like your big brother did, but we have our stolen moments alone. Early in the morning before the sun is up, you sweetly babble while we snuggle. 

Quiet naps at home are a rarity for you, but you are content to sleep on the go as we run errands or go to play dates and the park.  I can't hold you all hours of the day as I have to attend to your brother. Many of your clothes and toys are hand me downs. 

There are a few advantages to being the second child. You have the benefit of my experience. I'm not as nervous with you. I don't panic when you start to cry. I've learned a few tricks, some mistakes not to remake, and a new theory or two to try. I remember little things like an extra change of clothes and a spare pacifier. 

You love watching your brother play and you're starting to interact with him more. You accept his rough but well intentioned kisses and endure the occasional bump from a flying toy. You have to be tough, you're a little brother. You adore one another and for that I am very grateful.  I spent many nights of hormonally fueled sobbing, worried about how you two would get along. 

You're only 3 months old, but it seems like you have always been part of our family. You are a little old soul who sighs deeply and furrows his brows, but you always have a smile for your mama.   Continue to be patient with me as I navigate this new role as mother of two. Know that while you have to wait sometimes to have your needs met, that you are never forgotten. You are so precious to me, sweet boy. 

Overcoming Mental Blocks

I've been practicing yoga for about 3 and a half years now. When I first started, I remember staring in awe as other students effortlessly performed some of the more complicated poses. They seemed to defy gravity and the laws of physics with such ease. I watched in amazement, while holding onto the belief that I would never be able to do that. As I have progressed in my practice, I have come to enjoy the challenge of learning a new pose, of being able to move my body in ways that I never thought possible. I have found that the key to mastering a tricky pose isn't about muscling my body into it, but rather letting go, finding lightness, and getting out of my head.  In yoga, as in life, the mental blocks are the most difficult to overcome. Very often, we are our own biggest obstacle. In order to grow, we must be willing to try new things and risk failing or looking silly. When we let go of our "I can't"s, we open ourselves to a world of possibility. 

Lady Magnet

Nothing in the world more quickly attracts a group of women like a new baby. Holding a baby is an open invitation for conversation. Logan is oblivious to his power as a lady magnet-an ability that he'll wish for in about 15 years!  Whether I'm at the grocery store, a restaurant, or church, women of all ages are eager to approach me, from little girls clutching their baby dolls to grandmothers with silver hair.

Elderly women are especially interested in seeing the baby. They offer time tested advice and sweet words of encouragement.  They share stories of their own babies now grown. I can see in their eyes that to them it doesn't seem like it was so long ago.  I imagine that there is something about being at the other end of life and wanting a glimpse of  the next generation with whom they leave the world. Babies represent unlimited possibility and hope for the future. As adults, we are defined by the choices that we have made, but babies offer a sense of renewal and a fresh start. They haven't made any life altering choices, shut any doors, burned any bridges. They know nothing of hatred, anger, or prejudice.  The future is in their tiny chubby hands and that is a powerful thing to witness. 

Parrot

Nothing makes you more aware of the words coming out of your mouth than a toddler who repeats everything he hears. I will admit to not having the cleanest mouth in my life BC (before children).  The restaurant industry is rough, to say the least. I've tried to clean it up as much as possible, but I've accidentally slipped the occasional expletive.

Listening to Carter speak is like holding up a mirror to myself. What phrases do I use so frequently that I am not even aware of them?  And how funny are some adult phrases when they come out of the mouth of a child?  Here are a few that I've heard Carter use:

Let's rock and roll!

Settle down. 

It's ok, Mama's here (used on both baby brother and the dogs!)

That's enough!

Good job!

Go for it!

One of my favorite things to do is to spy on Carter. Listening to him play make believe offers a glimpse into his mind.  I recognize phrases and snippets of his favorite shows, books, and songs. It's always fascinating to see what has stuck with him.  There are also things that surprise me. Where did he pick up some of these words? 

Sometimes I'll hear a phrase made unintelligible by his clumsy little toddler tongue. He'll repeat it frequently in the same context, so I know it means something to him. Despite turning it over in my mind again and again, I can't make sense of it. Then days later, we'll be watching a movie or reading a book and he'll repeat the phrase and it suddenly makes sense. One such example was "To infinity and beyond."  Thanks, Buzz Lightyear!

Counterfeit

I've been a mom for over 2 years and sometimes it hits me all over again. I'm a mom?  Of two?  I have a toddler?  When did that happen?

Somedays I feel like I'm playing house. I'm not worthy. My parenting theories are shaky at best.  I feel like a counterfeit, passing myself off as the real deal while questioning myself inside.  The real irony is that my little people look up to me with complete trust in their eyes, always believing that I have the answers.  Ha! If only they knew! 

I watch other moms out of the corner of my eye like a student cheating on a test. How does she resolve the same challenges?  Can I learn something from the way she handles her kids?  I suspect that other people feel this way too. Does anyone really feel like they have it all figured out or are we all just making it up as we go?

I remember calling my mom from the depths of sleep deprivation, desperately seeking a remedy to Carter's sleepless nights. Her answer surprised me. "I don't know," she said. Here was my mommy role model and she didn't have a magical  solution. How was this possible?  I felt like Dorothy, pulling back the curtain to find that the great and powerful Oz was just an old man. It was both scary and reassuring at the same time. If she doesn't have all of the answers, then it's okay if I don't either.

Emerging from Hibernation

The first couple of months after a baby is born is about survival.  Feed, diaper, repeat. The primary goal is meeting the needs of the new baby. Trying to sneak in a little sleep and food for yourself becomes an after thought. All nonessential functions come to a grinding halt. Cleaning, grooming, cooking, etc fall by the wayside, especially with multiple kiddos.  

Our household is just beginning to settle into a new schedule and sense of normalcy. There's something apropo about having a winter baby.  I have entered into a new season of life as a mother of two.  I'm reemerging from my hibernation as the temperatures rise and signs of Spring begin to appear. As Nature renews itself, so do I.

I have gained the confidence to go out with both boys.  Carter and I are both so happy to have a change of scenery and visit with our friends. I find myself relying on the Moby (a baby carrier) much more this time around. With a toddler to care for, having free hands is necessary! 

Logan is now taking a bottle, so I even have a bit of personal freedom.  After 2 months of constantly caring for my boys full time, leaving the house alone feels foreign. Like an amputee misses a limb, I feel like I am missing a piece of myself. 

I've begun running again and even returned to yoga class this week. It feels good to get sweaty and challenge myself physically.  I'm slowly beginning to feel like myself, but my sore muscles remind me that I have only taken the first steps on a long journey. 

Ceasefire

If you have ever been down the rabbit hole of online parenting forums, you know that the mom wars are alive and well.  Breastfeeding, formula, natural childbirth, scheduled c section, baby led weaning, co sleeping, cry it out, etc. Strangers passionately argue over the merits of their method of parenting. But I ask you, does it really matter?  Can't we all agree to raise our kids in a way that works for us and support one another?  Being a parent is hard enough without the added pressure of mommy wars. So much of the antagonism stems from an insecurity that lives in the heart of every parent. We fear that we are somehow not enough, that another parent is doing a better job, but that could not be further from the truth. You have been entrusted to raise your little people for a reason and no one knows how to do that better than you. 

I offer my own personal ceasefire. I am not here to compete with you.  My children are not here to compete with your children. I support you and know that you're doing your best. Only you know what works for your family and I'm not judging you.  Let's stop focusing on our differences and instead find common ground. 

When I see you on the playground, I'm not eyeing your choice in snacks or how you choose to discipline your children.  Let's enjoy the sunshine and the giggles of our children playing together. Because that's what it's all about: raising happy kids. 

The Magic of Parenthood

Once you become a parent, your brain forever functions a little differently. The synapses fire in new ways and new connections are made (maybe it's the sleep deprivation...).  Your mind works in fresh creative ways to relate to your children. You step outside of yourself and your preconceived notions and learn to see the world through the eyes of a child. You become a songwriter, a storyteller, a dreamer. You notice subtle things that you would have missed in your childless days: leaves blowing in the wind, the shape of the moon, planes passing overhead, construction equipment, etc.

You adopt the unique interests and hobbies of your children as your own. You learn about subjects that you had never before given much thought (I know more about trains than I ever knew was possible).  Your imagination is stretched as you recapture the magic of childhood. You leave the literal, concrete world of adulthood for a bit and visit the land of make-believe. Fairytales leap off of the pages of books, opening up a world of enchantment: pirates and princesses, fearsome dragons breathing fire, and glittering mermaids swimming in violet oceans.  It is a second chance at childhood, where you rediscover the forgotten wonders and dreams of your own youth, tucked away in the lonely, unused corners of your mind.  In this way, children are the fountain of youth, breathing magic and imagination back into the lives they touch. 

Lesser Expectations

As moms, we put a lot of pressure on ourselves, striving towards an ideal of glossy magazine style perfection. Social media has exacerbated the problem. Damn you, Pinterest!  We want a sparkling clean house, to make wholesome & delicious meals for our perfectly behaved well coifed children who are magically potty trained at age 2, bilingual, and shun TV.  Real life is not as neat and tidy as we would like. I think it's time we lower the bar a bit and enjoy the life we have with our perfectly imperfect children.

Cereal for dinner is acceptable on occasion.  A quick splash of water on your face and a swipe of deodorant may be all the shower you get for the day. "Exercise" is relegated to chasing after the toddler.  Popping in a DVD to get a break after a rough night is totally necessary.  The dishes will still be there tomorrow. Sometimes you have to ditch the To Do list to snuggle with your littles.  

This season of motherhood is intense and exhausting, but also fleeting.  There will be a time for cleaning and the house will not always be littered with toys. 

Mommy Fantasies

I remember a time when fantasies were exciting, exotic, and sexy. I dreamed of traveling the world, sipping piña coladas in a teeny bikini while lounging on a beach, dinner at fancy restaurants, etc. That was before I became a mom. These days, my fantasies are far simpler:

-finishing a cup of coffee before it gets cold

-sleeping past 7am

-wandering the aisles of Target alone

-eating a meal without being interrupted

-a magically clean house

-long bubble baths

-adult programming

-zipping up my prepregnancy jeans

I have traded small indulgences for more precious things like snuggles and smiles from these little people who need me. I wouldn't change a thing, but sometimes I miss those quiet moments to myself. What are your fantasies?

The Meditation of Motherhood

There is so much repetition in my day. I answer the same questions over and over, put the toys away endlessly, read those favorite books until I know them by heart, nurse, nurse, nurse the baby, and then nurse him again, chip away at the never ending piles of laundry and dishes. I feel like Sisyphus rolling that boulder uphill for all eternity. 

Each day looks like the last and they all begin to blend together.  I struggle to find motivation amidst the monotony. I sometimes find myself slipping into auto pilot, especially when I'm sleep deprived (always).  I strive to remain present and meet each day with renewed energy and enthusiasm. In this way, motherhood is a living meditation: to find the extraordinary among the everyday, to rise above the monotony, fully engage and live in the moment.

Difficult days

There are many magical moments as a mom, when my children are sweet and smiling, the sun shines, the angels sing, and all is right in the world. Then there are those other days. The long, exhausting, soul trying days. The days when I keep checking the clock and the minutes crawl by. The baby is crying, the toddler is throwing a tantrum for reasons that are completely irrational, the house is a mess, everyone is tired and their blood sugar is low. On these days, it is tempting to react in haste and frustration. Instead, I try to take a deep breath, close my tired eyes, offer a silent prayer, and remember that little eyes are watching me.  Through my actions, I am teaching them and so I choose to show them gentleness and grace, even on the difficult days. Especially on the difficult days. 

Hello Blogland

Hi there, my name is Katie.  I am a stay at home mom to an energetic, feisty two year old named Carter and a sweet, snuggly one month old named Logan. I also have two neurotic dogs and an amazing husband who makes it all possible. I'm a former professionally trained line cook living in North Carolina. I love cooking, baking, yoga, running, nap time, and dancing (badly) to Taylor Swift.  I run on too much coffee and lots of concealer. Welcome to my crazy world.