This may explain my absence as of late. Expect my return shortly. :)

Everly Mae,

My 9 month old girl. Wow. You have two teeth, your hair is filling out and is a strawberry blonde color, you feed yourself, and your crawling and climbing skills are getting better daily. You are a big girl!

Okay... so to me you're a big girl. Really you weigh about 15.5 pounds and you're almost 26 inches long. Technically - you're really tiny for a 9 month old. But we are really tiny, too. So you fit into the family just right... there is no question that you're ours. You have my huge head (yay) and eye color, and just about everything else belongs to your daddy, if I'm going to be honest. Here is a picture of when we all were babies:

Hilarious.

You love your mirror book, your Kentucky pom pom, your play kitchen, eating paper of any kind, eating dog food (discovered this yesterday), when I get you out of your carseat after a long trip, food of any kind, drinking water from your straw sippie cup, bath time, twisting and twirling your tongue in odd ways, other babies and kids, and your tiny naked baby doll that used to be mine. You also learned how to growl recently and you do it after we do and it's hilarious, you love showing off. Your sense of humor gets stronger every day.

You dislike when someone tries to make you do something you don't want to, laying down to take a bottle now, when I leave the room, being told, "No!" and being laid down for sleepy time. I don't know if you'll ever grow out of the last one.

This has been a very difficult last 3 weeks for me, baby girl. I have been very sick and very exhausted. I wake up in the mornings feeling unsteady and queasy, and I go to bed at night feeling tired and overwhelmed. My body cannot go as far as I'm wanting (and needing) it to go right now, and it leaves me feeling frustrated... and frankly I feel like a bad mother sometimes.

You see... ever since you were born, my main goal in life has been protecting you, entertaining you, teaching you, nourishing you, and keeping you happy. But I can't do that as well lately, and it's hurting me a little bit. And I can't do that because I'm having to put effort into something else now...



A little baby, just like you, only much smaller.

You're going to be a big sister, sweet girl!

And we're scared to death. We knew we wanted babies to fill our home, but we had no idea that God would want those babies to be exactly as far apart as your daddy and his brother - 17 months, to be exact. When we found out, we joked anxiously and it took about a week or so for it to really hit us... that we were about to go on this ride all over again. And as exciting as it is, the ride is not always smooth and scenic - sometimes it is bumpy and dark, and it can be very scary. But we know we can do it, because you have shown us our strength, our resilience, and our purpose.

I need you to know something though.

You'll always be my first baby.

You taught me how to be a mother. I need you to know that because of you, I have more faith in God, a better understanding of love, and a happier outlook on life. I need you to know that nothing will ever, ever, ever change the bond we have or the secrets we share. Nothing will ever take me away from you.

I know that's impossible for you to understand right now.

All I can do is whisper into your ear late at night, while I gently push your hair from your face. I can hold you tighter and longer and sing Jack Johnson and Patty Griffin and Guster to you. I can dance with you, spin you in circles, and kiss the bottoms of your feet every day. I can make promises I'll never break.

So that's what I'll do.

And when our new baby comes home later this year, I cannot wait to see your face. I know you'll smile as big as you can. I know you'll be as good of a sister as you are a daughter. I know I'll be giving you someone to hold onto, to play with, and to cling to when times are tough... even when your daddy and I are no longer here. You'll have each other.

Until then, I'm going to soak up every little bit of our time together as a family of 3 (and a half). Because I want you to know that you are loved, and that love doesn't divide - it only multiplies.
To my best little buddy... happy 9 months!

Love, Mama

Before having Everly, I remember reading blogs and hearing women comment on how they never fix their hair or wear mascara any more because what's the point? They're tired. They're covered in bodily fluids that aren't their own. And they still have that stubborn 15 pounds hanging onto their belly that they need to lose (or is that just me?) I can remember literally rolling my eyes (as I did many times back then at Mom Blogs) and saying to myself:

"That will NEVER be me."

There were a lot of things I swore I'd never do. I swore I'd never have a Mom Blog once years ago. I swore I'd never have parenting magazines laying around everywhere. I swore I'd never let my living room look like a daycare after I had a baby, because after all - do they really need that much space and that many toys?


(My living room right now. Yes really.)

Point of advice for moms-to-be (among your other 900 million points of advice you're going to receive):

Don't say that you're never going to do something. Otherwise you're going to look and feel like an ass, the same way I did.

But yes. Now I find myself in the same position as all those women, where I barely brush or condition my hair, feel accomplished when I put some concealer on, and go public places with stains on my shirt regularly. The other day I went to Target in my husband's sweat pants, a t-shirt from Gatlinburg, Tennessee, and my hair in a half-ponytail. I looked like Everly's teenage babysitter, distraught and sweaty and ridiculous.

So I'm done. Starting this week, I am going to make some sort of effort to make myself beautiful again, though I think I'll need to start slowly. Maybe I should paint my toenails? Or maybe I'll make studded earrings a must. Or maybe I'll wear a shirt that doesn't have a sassy saying or Chuck Norris on the front.

How did you get your sass back after having a baby? Or have you?

Part of being a mama is that down time is going to be inevitable. What does down time mean in this case? It means that we aren't always going to be joyfully stacking blocks, wiping noses, singing lullabies, and frolicking about in our best clothing while spinning our baby (GENTLY) above our heads. With The Sound of Music's soundtrack playing in the background.

"The hills are aliveeeeee with the smell of diapppperrrrssss..."

Down time means that our own noses might need wiping. We are going to look like we just voluntarily jumped into a washing machine and laid there while it did an aggressive spin cycle. We are going to be tired, uninspired, and grouchy.

The good thing about this down time is that it is never able to last very long, because being a mom means being a soldier through the storm, and carrying forward for your little one even when you feel like being left behind (and napping for 4 hours at a time).

So. Things have been quiet around here, though not necessarily quiet at home. But I can handle them as long as I keep my eye on the prize.

The prize that I get to win, over and over again, every day.

You may be wondering where I've been. Or you may be relieved that you don't have to read any more of my sarcastic nonsense. Or you may be excited about the new episode of Glee tonight. It's really all a toss-up.

The annoying thing is that I'm going to say what lots of bloggers say when they're short on content.

There is a lot of content straight ahead. I'm currently writing an article for Oh Baby Magazine (thanks to my friend Jordan!) and that's consuming part of my thoughts. Also, I have a few video posts in the work, as well as many more featured guests.

Tomorrow the posting/content shall pick up. Until then, I'm posting because I would LOVE to know what you'd like to see articles about around here. Tell me in the comments!

Monica has been a friend of mine since I was about 17 or 18. She is a stay at home mom and a graduate of University of the Cumberlands where she studied Music (Vocal Performance), Theatre Arts, and Business Administration. She has been married a little over a year and their daughter, Maecyn, is 6 1/2 months old (and hilariously cute and sassy, if I might add). Here she talks about choosing Maecyn's name, and the drama that followed.

You named your kid WHAT?!?

Any mom or mom-to-be out there can tell you how exciting it is to pick out your child's name. Choosing a name is, along with the swollen ankles, nausea, and stretch marks, one of the fun parts of pregnancy. My husband and I decided early on that we were going to keep our baby's name a secret until she arrived. We felt that 1. it was something we could keep for ourselves, 2. we had a few names picked out and wanted to wait to see our baby girl before settling on one, and 3. we wanted to keep others' opinions out of it, knowing we both have some very opinionated and outspoken relatives.

Keeping the name a secret was something I'll definitely never regret. However, it didn't keep opinions out of the equation. We still had aunts telling us they always wanted someone to be named after them. Others trying to get us to spill the beans, which I'm proud to say didn't happen. Then there were the few who told us that the gift they were getting a personalized gift and requested the initials....to which my response was “Thank you, that's very thoughtful, but we'll have to wait until the baby is born to get the personalization done.” It almost became a game that when someone would ask what we were naming the baby we'd respond with the name of the person who asked. You can imagine the look of excitement when they thought we were revealing our TOP SECRET information, then disappointment when they realized we were joking.

Maecyn Clara finally arrived on August 20, 1010 at 2:57 pm...after what seemed like a million months and 14 ½ hours of labor. The funny thing is the name we had picked out that we thought we were going to stick with, changed the instant we saw her. My husband and I both love the name Maecyn. Clara is in honor my grandfather, Clarence, who passed away when I was almost 6 months pregnant. We were so excited to finally share her, and her name, with the world.

We were met with some mixed reviews. I've been told she has a beautiful name and I've been asked “Why did you give that baby a name like that? She's going to be made fun of in school!” A few relatives even refused to call her Maecyn, only calling her Mae or Maecy, you can imagine how this made my blood boil. It didn't bother me that her name was shortened, just the fact that they didn't like the name so they were calling her something else. This is where my husband and I differ. While I was sitting there trying to keep things pleasant, even though I wanted to go all Mama Bear on someone, my husband spoke up. “Her name is MAECYN, not Mae, not Maecy...MAECYN!” I love that man. I have a feeling our daughter is going to have that same mentality...or Mommy might have to teach her that, time will tell. She's already so much like her daddy I can't imagine her not saying exactly the same thing.

Now that Maecyn is nearing 6 ½ months old, we've learned to deal with opinions a lot better, we're more confident as parents. We've learned that we can't take others' opinions personally, we just let them roll off our backs and move on. The fact is that right now Maecyn doesn't care what people call her, I call her booger butt all the time and she still answers to it. When it comes down to it the comments only bother my husband and myself. It's a name that we chose and personal to us. We still get the occasional comment from the same relatives, but it's not nearly as often as it used to be. To me, that's a sign of acceptance, even if it is a baby step.

Regardless of the comments that have been made about her name, Maecyn is still loved and adored by everyone, and that's what's important. She is part of a loving family who will help her build confidence and self esteem as she grows. I feel that being a mother is my greatest accomplishment, and I feel that we've given our daughter a name that she can bear with pride.

What about you? Was there any drama with the baby name you chose? Discuss in the comments or on the message board.

I was reading about Natalie Portman's pregnancy cravings and it got me thinking about the pregnancy cravings I had when I was freshly pregnant with Everly. I went back through an old pregnancy journal that I kept to remind myself. Most of these were early on.

-Cucumbers
-Red grapes
-Salt & Vinegar chips
-Caesar salads
-Baby spinach w/ Italian dressing
-Red meat
-Lemon water

Now let me tell you about my "guilty" cravings.

Margaritas & Cadbury Eggs

Listen. The Cadbury eggs I indulged in because basically my body was drawn to them like magnets, and I knew they were going to go out of season, so my husband went out and bought like 900 of them and that was the end of that. I didn't just enjoy them when I ate them, I inhaled them, my mouth covered in melted chocolate and my teeth aching from sweetness.

The margaritas though? Obviously I couldn't indulge in those, because I didn't want my baby coming out in a Hawaiian shirt strumming Jimmy Buffet on a guitar, ok? So I suffered in silence, drooling as my friends discussed their "OMG MARGARITAZ NITE 2010 U GUYZ!" Oh, how I suffered.

UNTIL.



Taco Bell, in some sort of miracle of miracles, released a FAKE MARGARITA (to go along with their fake beef, apparently). And it was all over my friends. I got the smooth flavor of a tequila-tainted cocktail, without any of the tequila.

I would lean my head back and crunch the ice annoyingly loud, swirling the flavor around in my mouth. And they were so accessible. Driving home from school? Grab a treat! Going to the baby doctor? How about a drink?

I drank my last "mockarita" the night before Everly was born, during early labor. It was glorioussss! I distinctly remember thinking the brain freeze was slightly more painful than my contractions at the time.

So innocent. So pure.

What were/are your pregnancy cravings?

My husband and I are still, 8 months later, trying to figure out who should do what when it comes to taking care of the baby. For the most part, we have all the housework stuff figured out, though we still do occasionally remind each other to, "Take out the trash!" or "Do the dishes!" which ends up in sassy comments back and forth, but baby care is still... up in the air.

So. Everly is mostly my responsbility through the week. The only thing Billy is responsible for is coming home (around 5:30 or 6:00pm), playing with her for an hour or so, and giving her the bedtime bottle. So for about an hour and a half after he gets home, he takes care of Everly while I get a much-needed break. He usually enjoys this because he's missed her all day, and it's their special time.

However... there are times when Billy's brain is fried & he feels heavy all over & he just wants to come home and completely unwind. He wants to lay on the couch like a rock and not move, maybe idly flipping through the TV channels or picking at fuzz balls on his socks. This happens about once a week. On those nights, he'll scoop up Everly and entertain her for about 30 minutes, but then he's just... done. So he'll want me to do her bedtime bottle.

Here's my issue.

I am also done. No my brain isn't fried because I had to design software for a multi-million dollar project. My brain is fried because I listened to Everly fuss for 2 hours because she was sleepy but didn't want to take a nap. Or because I had to figure out how to fix myself something to eat while simultaneously staying in her line of vision. Or because I had to call 10 different places about 10 different bills that are wrong, all while bouncing my foot up & down to entertain Everly so she doesn't feel neglected. I feel heavy all over because I've carried our baby, picked up her toys, chased her around, taken her in & out of the bath and highchair, scrambled to take my own shower, and taken a walk down the street with Everly and our dog.

So I get what it feels like to be done. And need to unwind. And want alone time.

And I have to admit, that I have been selfish. While I have taken the nighttime bottle for Billy a handful of times, when he wanted to go to wrestling practice or had to work late, I mostly make him stick to his end of the deal, suck it up, and do it. And don't get me wrong, it's not like it turns into this blown-out-of-proportion fight where we throw pillows at each other's faces, but there is definitely some whining involved and I just feel like... it's 8 months into this game... let's just do what we're supposed to and kind of get over it?

But then I'm hypocritical.

On the weekends, we share care 50/50. If he gets one bottle, I'll get the next, etc. We try to split playtime and diaper changes, as well. This has worked for the most part, however... I find that if I need Billy to get an extra bottle for me (because maybe I didn't get a chance to shower, or need to do some housework) he'll get all competitive and remind me that he just did the LAST bottle and this is MY bottle to do! Then I'll get mad at him for whining, but he's really just wanting me to hold up my end of the bargain - the same way I make him on week nights.

How do you work these things out as a couple? I wish we were just "go with the flow" but we're not. We're both stubborn, competitive, and record keepers. It's becoming annoying, but I'm not sure how to drop the routine without someone feeling cheated out of their alone time?