Nice & Slow – A Pregnancy Remix

The other day I was jamming to some old school Pandora stations, and Usher’s Nice & Slow found its way onto the screen. If you were a tweener or teen in the late 1990’s, this song and that My Way album was your JAM.

(In case you need a little refresher – here’s the throwback for you)

As I sat there keeping up with every word in my head, I found the song rewriting itself as I went along doing my best white girl rap. I guess a song about those after work, I’m coming home NOW, booty call from your husband kind of days are in my rear view mirror for the moment, which made the song a little humorous and unrelatable. Without missing a beat my brain took care of that for me, and created lyrics a little better suited for this glorious “one toddler and one on the way” time in our life.

One day, this song will ring true again. One day.

Until then…


image (36)
image (16)
image (17)

It’s seven o’clock
On the dot
She’s in her drop top
Catchin’ her zzzz’s – oh yeah

7.16.14 013

I got a real pretty, pretty little thang that’s waiting for me
image (37)
I waddle up
Anticipating, pregnant love
Light headedness, don’t keep me waiting
image (38)
I got plans to lay my belly in ways that
You always see, boy you know what I mean

Let me take you to a place nice and quiet
There ain’t no one there to interrupt
We really gotta rush
I’m too tired to take it nice and slow
(baby remember all the things you used to do to me)

See I’ve been waiting for this for so long
We’ll be makin’ love until the girl gets up
I’m too tired to take it nice and slow
(baby remember all the things you used to do to me)

Now here we are
I’m so impossibly round
Contemplating just how I’m gonna lay me down
Sciatic you got me sayin’
My, my, my – My
I wish that I – I
Could easily roll over
And get this thing started right now

I wanna do something freaky to you baby
Shit, I think she heard me
{whispers} I—I wanna do something freaky to you babe
I just can’t call out your name

They call me PR-EGG-O–MO-MMA—E
Now baby do you see these big ole boobies?
Got a momma feelin’ like Dolly P
Every time that you roll with me, holdin’ me
Tryin’ to get control of these
Nice and slow
You know
Never lettin’ go
This baby’s messin’ up our flow
This is how the hook go

Let me take you to a place nice and quiet
There ain’t no one there to interrupt
We really gotta rush
I’m too tired to take it nice and slow
(baby remember all the things you used to do to me)

See I’ve been waiting for this for so long
We’ll be makin’ love until the girl gets up
I’m too tired to take it nice and slow
(baby remember all the things you used to do to me)

Now tell me
Do you wanna get sleepy
Cause, I’ll sleep now yes I will
I’ll sleep now yes I will
I’ll get to sleep now cause that was part of our little deal
I’ll sleep now yes I will
I’ll sleep now yes I will
I’ll get to sleep now cause that was part of our little deal – yeah
(now baby please help me up I gotta pee)

image (39)

**If I had the time, resources, man power, or knowledge base to make this into a music video, I totally would’ve. The vision is there. Someone call What’s Up Moms and tell them we should talk! Also, a little shout out to my husband for taking and taking part in these pictures without having a clue of what they were for.  Such a trooper!**


The Compliments I Wish More New Moms Received

It used to mildly annoy me. Then for awhile it frustrated me. And now, after having it shoved down our throats repeatedly, it kind of pisses me off.

Olivia Wilde looks incredible just three months after baby! Claire Danes was on the red carpet in a size zero just one month postpartum! I’m pretty sure Kristin Cavallari wore her skinny jeans on the way home from the hospital. And I’m almost certain Gisele Bundchen gave birth during a pilates class and finished her exercises once she delivered. These headlines are everywhere, and every day it’s a new mom that is applauded for an even better version of her body than she had before pregnancy, and she achieved it in no time.


I’m not on a media crusade here, I’ll leave that to the much more competent, much more influential people out there with the platforms to make a difference. And after really evaluating why it infuriates me like it does, it’s not even that I’m on a jealously rooted rant. (OK, a tiny part of me is jealous). Honestly, it just really makes me sad. It’s sad to feel like the only compliment our new moms receive these days has to do with how quickly they can make themselves look like they never carried and birthed a baby in the first place.

Now please understand I’m not knocking women who, whether through unwavering dedication and hard work or the jackpot of genetics, bounce back quickly. Being healthy and taking care of ourselves should be a priority, and it should definitely be acknowledged.

My problem is, there’s so much more our focus should be on when speaking about women who just gave birth. There is never a shortage of the, “you look great!”s, and “wow, it melted right off you!”s. So much so, they often feel artificial and insincere – its just something people say to new moms whether they genuinely mean it or not. While I know I got them, I don’t remember a single one. The compliments I DO remember, however, had absolutely nothing to do with my physical appearance.

I specifically remember the text I got from a dear friend (who, at the time, I didn’t even know really followed my motherhood journey). Out of the blue, she let me know how fantastic of a mother I was and how she hoped to be “a quarter of the mom that I already am”. I specifically remember the conversation I had with my husband, where he told me one of the biggest reasons he was excited to see our family grow again was because of me, because I was “such an amazing mother”. I specifically remember the conversation I had with my grandmother about how she was so impressed with all the experiences I was trying to give Tayler and all that I was exposing her to. I remember the compliments about breastfeeding, about patience, and about how hard I was working around the clock to give Tayler everything she needed. Those words all stuck with me and helped build me up because they acknowledged the kinds of qualities I think really matter to new moms. The qualities our focus should be on when speaking to new moms. Those were the compliments that reminded me my energy was being spent in the right places.

I imagine Us Weekly would have to shut down if they changed their focus. I’m not sure the headline “Olivia Wilde is an avid baby wearer!” would sell any copies. But for those of us who are around your every day new mom, the ones who don’t have night nannies, who make their own meals on a budget, and who try and squeeze in a jog or some squats when they find a free 20 minutes and their energy isn’t completely zapped – acknowledge something more than just her physical appearance. Let her know you’re in awe of how natural she is in her new role. Tell her you respect how hard she works at work and then comes home and works with that same tenacity. Let her know that despite the few hours of broken sleep she got, you admire how she’s able to keep her patience and provide lovingly for her infant all day long. Reach out to tell her you revere the fact that she has the confidence to go against the grain, knowing what she is doing is best for her and her baby.

A new mom has so much more going on in her life than only worrying about how far she is from her pre-baby pant size. Not only that, but many women love their new motherly shape and don’t want to look like they did before children. We need to acknowledge that fact and change the conversation so our new moms can focus on the things that matter and be reassured their priorities are in the right order. Compliment her heart, soul, and fierce love for her babies. Those are the qualities that are raising exceptional little people – not the inches around her waist.

Tayler 8.12.13 002

I Know You’re There, Sweet Boy

Hi Baby Boy,

Twenty three weeks.  That’s how long you and I have been together, getting to know each other a little more each and every day.  By now you’ve heard me and your father chattering away, and all those prods and thumps you feel are thanks to your big sister, Tayler.  She’s got one speed, and that speed is GO.  You’ll see. 🙂

6.28.14 199
There she is – laying all over you. 🙂

Ever since I was old enough to think about becoming a mom I’ve always envisioned myself as a mom of boys.  I just always felt like it suited my personality.  I love to play rough, get dirty, and play sports. I love to play in creeks, climb trees, and overall, I think I’m a pretty low maintenance person.  Until our ultrasound, I was convinced Tayler was a boy.  Your dad knew she was a girl all along (which drives me nuts – I hate when he’s right!), but boy was I shocked! While I have whole heartedly loved being a mom to a beautiful little girl for the past year and a half, (and I actually thought you were a girl for awhile, sorry!), I am so excited for our upcoming adventures. You and I – we’re going to have fun together.

6.28.14 022
This is my ugly cry when I found out you were a boy! I was so happy!

The real reason I’m writing you right now, however, is to make a mommy confession of guilt.  While I know you’re probably too busy growing big and strong to notice, I can’t help but feel like I’ve been neglecting you.  When I was pregnant with your sister I remember so much planning, attention to detail, reading, and preparing for her by this point in the pregnancy.  Outside of work and spending time with loved ones, I was able to spend all my energy on getting things perfect for her arrival.  Every piece in her nursery was carefully planned. I was able to rest and relax when her and I needed it.  I had the time to watch every single episode of A Baby Story, and every single item on her registry was added with much consideration and thought.  Your dad and I sat there and rubbed and talked to my belly nearly every night.  Ah, life before children.  🙂

You and I have been together twenty three weeks, and all I’ve really been able to do is go through Tayler’s old clothes to pull out all the neutral pieces (we didn’t tell anyone she was a girl for awhile :)), clean out your closet that your father and I used for our overflow, and I got your new breast pump so we can really make this breastfeeding thing work for awhile.  I’ve bought you a few new outfits – its been fun changing gears and learning how to shop for cute boy clothes! Your father and I have just recently started to nail down some name possibilities, too – I hope you like what you’ve been hearing.  But truthfully, that’s about it.  I haven’t been able to relax as much as needed (again, your sister has one speed), and she takes much of my time and energy. I hope you’re doing OK keeping up.  (Also, I hear you loud and clear – NO MORE RUNNING. Got it.).

The first time we got to see you!
The first time we got to see you!

I’m not sure if maybe there’s just a lot less to do because we’ve already been through this all before or if I’ve just genuinely had a hard time making the time for you, but my sweet boy, I want you to know something.

I want you to know that I have thoroughly enjoyed every moment we’ve shared together so far.  I want you to know that I think about you at least one thousand times a day.  I picture us welcoming you into our family and become easily emotional at the joy I know you’ll bring.  I want you to know I already feel so connected to you, and love you with every fiber of my heart. Feeling you moving in my belly is easily one of the best parts of day, and I try and envision just how you’re plyaing around in there.  I can’t wait for your dad and sister to be able to feel. I want you to know that you will have a space of your own that was deliberately created with love just for you. I want you to know that every belly rub you feel is intentional with the hopes of radiating a loving, “I know you’re there, sweet boy”.  And I want you to know I am absolutely giddy with excitement (and nerves!) for your arrival and the chance to finally be able to look into your eyes.

Despite how many boxes I’ve checked off your to-do list, I want you to know I love you very, very much, and that is essentially all the preparing I really need to do.

Let’s rock these next seventeen weeks together. We can’t wait to meet you.

Your biggest fan,


Family picture!
Family picture!



Sometimes, I Just Want My Body Back

I’ve been sitting on this one for weeks and weeks.  At first I didn’t really know how to make sense of this recurring feeling.  Once I did, I wasn’t really sure how to write about it without sounding ungrateful or all, “woe is me” about it. I’m still not sure I know how, so I’m just going to cross my fingers and hope you know me well enough by now to know that while it is a discouraging feeling to have at times, I am very in tune with the fact that the root and circumstance of the problem (I really don’t think I can even call it that?) is actually quite a blessing.

Sometimes, I just want my body back.  No, not my high school or college body (although that would be nice too). I just want my body back to me. Just to me.  Not to share with anyone else, for just a little bit of time. Just to me.

It’s been the most bizarre feeling to navigate because it completely contradicts some of my very favorite things in life.

I absolutely yearn for and love physical affection and cuddle time with my daughter.  The way her little arms wrap around my neck.  The nine different positions she lays on me in and is blissfully content. The way her tiny fingers find twirling my hair to be the most comforting thing she knows.  I can’t get enough of her chest against mine.

I absolutely love being pregnant.  There is nothing like the privilege of carrying and growing a precious life inside you that was made from nothing but unconditional love.  I love the honor it is to be responsible for making the right choices for this beautiful little human that will make our family complete.  Despite the aches, pains, and less than flattering changes your body can go through, I feel nothing but joy knowing I am capable of creating such a miraculous thing to add to our world.

I absolutely love breastfeeding.  It’s not for all women, but I loved being able to feed and nourish my daughter. Knowing that for that bit of time, my body was able to give her everything she needed to grow big and strong.  I savored that bonding time and the way it strengthened our relationship.  Its one of the many things I look forward to being able to do again with our son.

I absolutely love physical affection and intimacy with my husband.  The way I am the perfect size little spoon curled up in his masculine arms.  The way he plays with my hair and scratches my back knowing it is my biggest soother.  I love the quick little touches he gives throughout the day that so clearly say, “Hang in there. I love you, and I’m here”. And I’ll spare you the steamy details, but oh, do I love the intimacy.

I long for and thrive off physical contact with those I love dearly, yet its those very things that can often overwhelm me to a point of emotional distress.  I vividly remember one morning in the kitchen sobbing, wondering what was wrong with me. For awhile I thought I was being a little overly dramatic, like I was subconsciously trying to make something out of nothing.  But when I stopped to really think about all that is involved in a day in terms of physical demands, I began to realize that being a mom and wife takes much, much more than just the intellectual and emotional.

Most days it feels like everyone else in my family (including baby boy in belly) is needing something from my body, and at the end of the day, there’s nothing left for me.

Sometimes, I just want my body back.  

Sometimes I just want a moment where Tayler isn’t climbing all over my stomach, squishing my already rearranged organs and roughhousing with her baby brother.  Honestly, it kind of hurts.

Sometimes I just want to go through a day without her continuously playing with my hair.  Not that its anything fancy, but when I’m able to steal five minutes to put it up in a kinda cute way, I’d like it to stay that way for more than one hour.

Sometimes I just want to drink coffee when I need a pick me up without having to worry about how much caffeine I’m consuming.

Sometimes I just want to drink an extra dirty martini when I need a pick me up without having to worry about how much alcohol I’m consuming.

Sometimes I just want to be able to cook a decent meal that takes more than ten minutes without having a little one pulling on me to hold her the whole time.

Sometimes I just want to be able to go to bed without the guilt of thinking, “Shit.  How has it already been a few days since we’ve had sex?  I should really make the time for it right now.  But I am so. dog. tired”.

Sometimes I just want to be able to wake up in the morning without the guilt of thinking, “I have a half an hour before Tayler wakes up. It’d be a perfect time to catch up on some intimacy time, but god the thought of enjoying my decaf and catching up on the DVR in peace sounds so heavenly”.

Sometimes I just want to be able to go for a run without worrying about my heart rate or how quickly I’ll need to stop for a restroom break.

Sometimes I just want my weight to stay in one place, my boobs to stay the same size and shape (preferably pregnant boob size), and be able to wear the same wardrobe for awhile.

And I remember so clearly being in the middle of breastfeeding, wondering if I’d ever get my body back for more than two hours at a time without having to lift my shirt up.

My dad always used to say that the way you can tell the difference between an introvert and an extrovert is in the way they recharge their batteries, not by the way they interact with others.  Maybe this is the introvert in me desperately crying out for more time to recharge my batteries – alone.  Or maybe its a common feeling shared by many moms and wives.  I’m not sure whether its the former or latter, or maybe its a mix of both, but what I am sure of is that I’m more in tune with recognizing that slowly rising need to be alone to reboot.  It picks up momentum quickly, and I’m more aware of my own physical requirements that must be met sometimes before I can continue to meet the physical needs of others.

And sometimes, that means taking my body back.

5.27.14 212

3.6.14 161