Brave

Back in July when Brice and I went to Colorado, his mom was telling me/us about how someone once asked her to describe each of her children with one word. I thought that was so cool, the idea of boiling down your child's entire massive personality and being into just one word. I've been continually trying to think of the word I would use for Kimmy ever since then, and it has truly taken me this long to decide what that word is.

Brave.

Kimmy is brave.

In the days and weeks after little miss was born, I spent countless hours going over all the dreams I have for her in her life. How I want her to feel about herself, how I want her to be able to look back on her childhood, how I will love her and support her no matter who she turns out to become. One thing I wished deeply for her was to have a stress-free and care-free childhood.

Unfortunately, fate would have it that she didn't fully get either of those things to the extent that I hoped. Life in a single-parent home whisked her away to a reality of having to sense adult stress far too young. I remember shortly after we moved into our own house when she was 2 that feeling of insecurity she woke up with each morning and went to bed with each night. "Mommy, will we live here now, just Kimmy and Mommy?" "Who will come watch me tomorrow?" "Where will I be tomorrow?" "Do I have to go to my daddy's this weekend?" "Will you always come get me after I visit?" The fear of the unknown unsettled her. She didn't understand the back and forth between households for visitation.

But do you know what she did? Instead of losing her footing, instead of turning into a tantrum-throwing, behavioral and emotional hot mess, she took every piece of new information and just rolled with it. "Okay, I like Kimmy and Mommy's house." "I'm excited to see Brooke tomorrow." "I'll miss you, Momma. Can't wait til you pick me up."

She is like that with everything. Give her the answers to her questions of the unknown, and she intrinsically equips herself for the ride ahead.

When we're at a restaurant, and I challenge her to order for herself when the server asks me what she wants to eat, she rehearses with me and does it. That huge grin on her face afterward is amazing to see!

When she marched into kindergarten on the first day with not a tear in her eye, despite her nervous tummy that morning, and waved bye to me: brave as can be.

When a pipe burst in our townhouse this winter, and we had to pack a bag and stay in an apartment unit across the street for a week, not a complaint was uttered. She thought of it as a fun adventure.

When we go somewhere new or try something new, she stomps trepidation with curiosity.

Flexible and resilient are reactions, and she executes those reactions flawlessly. But brave is who she is. She doesn't choose to be that way; she just is.

Kimmy on superhero day at school

I love my brave little adventurer. It's still eerie to me that I no longer have a toddler, but I'm so excited to watch her grow into big-girl Kimmy Jarae.

-Kels

P.S. She loves school, and it makes me so happy. I am a big ol' worrywart about these things, you know.

P.P.S. Thanks for the inspiration, Vicki!

Do things that scare you (single momma travel edition)

One of my proudest accomplishments to date was when I took my daughter to Disney World for her 3rd birthday, just me and her. Gobs of people tried to talk me out of it, friends and family alike. But it was something I felt like I just needed to do for us, and I'm so glad I listened to myself. I learned many, many things on that trip, the biggest of which was that I absolutely can handle taking my daughter somewhere all on my own, all while managing uncertainties and having a whole lot of fun! It was the pivotal experience of my single parenting journey, and it made me realize that I am more than capable.

That was in August 2015. Since then, I've made it a goal of mine to jump at any opportunity to travel with Kimmy. We've been camping together, to King's Island, to zoos, to Disney on Ice, to state parks, to Amish Country, and we just got back from Chicago last night. It's extremely scary and intimidating to take her on trips by myself, but I know the rewards are well worth the stress of overcoming that fear.

Are these trips easy? No. They strain our budget, they push my stress through the roof, and I have to consciously quell my endlessly nagging anxieties the whole time we're on a vacation. Like, seriously the entire time. A lot of little things make me a nervous wreck when I'm responsible for another human being: public transportation, crossing the street, airport security lines, whether or not my kid has peed and pooped recently, whether she's well hydrated, how much money is in my checking account at this exact moment in time, how much cash I have, where the nearest ATM is, whether there will be errors in any of our reservations, whether I have forgotten anything I need, etc., etc., etc. Last year on vacation, we were hit by an intoxicated driver and landed with a completely totaled car before we even made it to our hotel! So, yeah. Not easy at all. There is always some unforeseen circumstance a blink of the eye away that can throw a wrench in the most carefully laid plans.

Are these types of trips fun, though? Heckkkk yes! It feels SO GOOD to get one-on-one quality time with my mini me. It's the perfect opportunity for both of us to get an attitude adjustment, to reset our behaviors, to break out of our monotonous routines, to make new memories, to just get out of the house, and to talk about things heart to heart. I love our girl time, and I will chase these small getaways with her any chance I get.

This past vacation to Chicago, in particular, really helped us get grounded. We had a long year, month, and week leading up to this trip with tons of changes and long, tired days. Kimmy just finished up her school year on Friday, so we headed to the airport right after that. I was stressed about having just finished the end of my grad school term and probably not earning a letter grade that reflects the depth of what I actually took away from the class knowledge-wise. We just really needed to get away, and so we did!

I've found that the best trick to traveling with my daughter is not planning everything out. Of course, I made our lodging reservation and made sure all our transportation was planned out. But other than that, I only had 2 things planned going into this trip: a day at the zoo on day one and tickets to see Aladdin the musical on day two. That left us with a wide open schedule to be sure to have plenty of time to enjoy each other, instead of having all our time blocked off to do activity after activity for the sake of having a full itinerary. This also left room for Kimmy to make choices and feel like she had a say in what we were doing, not just be forced to do whatever I had planned for us. It really helped us be a team!

Also, we were mega broke this trip. But you know what? We had an absolute blast! Did we come home with a suitcase full of souvenirs? Nope. I actually can't think of a single souvenir we bought, unless you count the $1 balloon art flower we got on a street corner or our big bags of Garrett's popcorn. But we took lots of pictures and made a whole lot of memories! A tour guide during a trip to Europe in college once said, "Take pictures with your eyes and with your heart--those will be your best memories," and it's so true. I mean, I took pictures with my phone, too, but they just serve to reinforce all the things I saw and experienced. I don't look back and think, "Oh, I really love this one thing I bought in Europe." Instead, I think, "That Nuremberg Easter market was one of the neatest experiences of my life," "or that sunset view of Paris from the steps of Sacre-Coeur Basilica changed my life completely" or "the way my sisters in Cambodia hugged me still makes me feel warm inside." I value experiences so much more deeply than things, and I think Kimmy would tell you the same. She didn't even ask for anything in Chicago, except to show me some things she liked in the Disney Store that she would love it if she got for her birthday in August. She asked for a boat ride and a fresh-squeezed lemonade and to go splash in the water fountains in Millennium Park.

We walked about 28 miles over the long weekend, and little miss didn't complain a single time about being tired or hot. Not one time. How strong and grown up is she?! I was so proud! We ate free hostel breakfast and peanut butter sandwiches and hot dogs and cotton candy and ice cream and only one sit-down restaurant meal (deep dish pizza). We painted our nails and watched cartoons. We window shopped and played in the parks and got free Minions tattoos. We chased geese, had a picnic, rode a boat taxi, and walked down along the river and all along the Lakefront Trail. We gawked at the enormity of Buckingham Fountain--twice. We met friends at the zoo and made new friends at the Old Navy coloring table and at Millennium Park. We saw an amazing musical and had vending machine snacks for dinner afterwards because it was a Sunday, and I forgot everything would close early (oops). We went in shops just to ride the escalators. We got caught in a summer downpour and got so soaked we had to go in Walgreens to buy paper towels and dry ourselves off. We went to a museum we could get into for free with our WonderLab membership here. We talked and danced and soaked it all in. We even made up our own vacation theme song! It was an amazing trip.

So, anyway, my point is this...

ALL PARENTS EVERYWHERE (especially my fellow beautiful and amazing superhero single mommas who might lack the confidence to take the plunge or who might deal with an overabundance of unsolicited advice to the contrary from people who don't have a clue what it's like to walk in our shoes): GRAB YOUR KID(S) AND GO. Go anywhere. For a few days, for a week, overnight, doesn't matter. Pick a place and get in your car, on a plane, train, or boat. Just go. Go an hour away and stay in a hotel and watch TV, order pizza, and swim in the hotel pool. Get in the car and drive until you get to somewhere that seems like a good destination. Go a few towns over and spend the day there. Eat McDonald's or sandwiches or granola bars and apples for every meal if that's all you can afford. Stay on a friend's couch or an Airbnb or hostel. Go camping and sleep in a tent. Sleep in a rest area in your car for all I care--just go! Whatever you're scared of is minuscule in comparison to the lessons and memories you can find when you travel.

Lastly: if your fear is a person whispering in your ear that it's unsafe and foolish to travel with your child(ren), don't listen to them. Listen to you. Use your head and your street smarts. You know how to keep your kid safe. You know how your kid will react to any number of situations, which will help you choose where to take them. You know what you're capable of--and even if you don't, go somewhere anyway because you'll certainly find out. You'll never thrive under the dark cloud of pessimistic and paranoid advice. Go chase your sunshine!

More later.
-Kels

Discipline

I grew up in a home with set behavioral expectations and fairly consistent punishments for offenses. I spent many post-smart-mouth-remark bedroom quarantines brooding and vowing to discipline my future children completely differently. Never would I have a child who would sit in her room staring daggers into her parents' souls. Not my child. No, I'd be my child's best friend and never turn her against me!

As fate would have it, that wasn't completely unrealistic. Brooding preteen removed from this equation, of course--I'm not still holding onto any resentful thoughts toward my parents because I turned out pretty okay and have a strong sense of right vs. wrong. I have still retained my strong will, and I still speak my mind, though I kinda-sorta have a grasp on when to bite my tongue and when to speak up a little better than I had as a kid. (Hey, I said "kinda-sorta," right? I didn't claim to be an expert, HAHA!)

I've found myself in the role of a single parent, and I serve as both my daughter's sense of comfort and her reinforced conscience/disciplinarian. It's important for me to instill in my daughter a sense of right and wrong. But, it's even more important for me to be her friend through it all. I know a lot of people disagree with this stance, as is evident in the endless discipline advice I get from friends, family, and acquaintances alike.

(Seriously, guys, stop giving me advice. About anything. About everything. Especially about my child. I hate it. I would ask if I wanted it. I don't. Frankly, I'm sick of repeating myself on this front, too. Just stahp.)

Truth is, I know what I'm doing. My daughter doesn't have another parent to run to for comfort. Siblings either. She has me. I have to think very carefully about discipline, or I risk damaging the most secure human relationship my daughter has on this earth. Our trust and teamwork means absolutely everything and is our core mother-daughter value. I intend to never jeopardize that bond.

Someone once suggested to me that I fix my daughter's slower-than-mine pace and sense of time when we're getting ready for school and work in the mornings by locking her outside of the house in anything she could manage to clothe herself in in 5 minutes.

Let me be very clear: NEVER would I subject my child to such brutal humiliation. Discipline by humiliation is completely out of the question. I would absolutely risk every bit of trust she has in me to take care of her and help her through our differences if I made her feel humiliated, especially by something internalized and natural over which she has very little control.

Discipline by physical harm is completely out of the question, too. Discipline by silent treatment: no. Discipline by slave-style chores: no. Discipline by removing basic needs like a meal, clean and prepped clothing in the morning, etc...never ever.

I have never once laid a hand on my child, and I never intend to. I have never once purposely added the burden of shame to my child, and I don't plan to start now.

Discipline by words is plenty. Discipline by very small punishment (timeout or a prompted sincere apology) is enough.

As an only child (yes, she has a half-sister, but she lives as an only child in actual lifestyle articulation), and especially as the only child in a single-parent home, my daughter is critically sensitive to how I perceive her. If there is tension in our relationship, we both feel it. If Kimmy has even the slightest sense that I am disappointed in her actions, she is devastated. Absolutely shattered and torn to pieces.

This morning when I dropped her off at school, I learned that Kimmy had had 2 timeouts at school yesterday for sassy behavior to her teacher upon being corrected on something. While I deeply appreciate her strong will and ability to speak up for herself, there is a time and a place for such behavior, and it is not at school to her preschool teachers, whose judgment I trust. (When she's older and has a difference of opinion or fact with a teacher, then we'll talk. I remember the first time I corrected a teacher and was absolutely right in so doing...in 2nd grade.)

As her teacher was telling me what happened, Kimmy's entire posture changed. Her shoulders sunk. She turned her face from me. Huge crocodile tears welled up in her eyes instantly, and she bit her bottom lip. She was sobbing 15 seconds in. When I hugged her as I was leaving, she didn't want to let go. The thought of me being disappointed in her is just about too much for her to bear, and this is a consistent observation. That feeling is so shameful to her that just by her knowing I could potentially think badly of her, she wouldn't dare repeat a bad behavior.

We discuss bad behavior. We apologize when we get snippy or loud-mouthed with each other. I apologize constantly for getting impatient and raising my voice. I hold my daughter's hand. I tell her I love her. I hug her. I kiss her goodnight and good morning and goodbye for the day. I give leniency when leniency is due and can deepen our trust in each other. We forgive. We forget. We grow together.

This works for us. This process isn't broken. There is nothing to be fixed. Kimmy behaves exceptionally well for a child her age. She has a good heart and tries her hardest to make right decisions all the time. Best of all, she trusts me. She knows she can always come to her mother for any reason under the sun. She knows that I value her honesty. Some kids turn into snakes at age 4, but my daughter rarely even utters a lie. I intrinsically know that I am raising my daughter right. I'm not looking for a parenting overhaul.

So, please, leave me alone to discipline my child in the way that's best for her, for us, for our household, for our relationship. It's not your business. If there comes a time when I need to adjust, trust that I'm a grown-ass woman and can manage to do so just fine all on my own.

Kimmy and Mommy's house is peaceful, healthy, and happy. Is yours? #checkyourself

Peace,
-Kels

To the mom who jokes about being a temporary single mom

This has bothered me for 2 years, so I'm just going to get right to it.

I periodically stumble across a status here or there on Facebook during my late-night mindless scrolling that says something along the lines of, "Well, hubby is away for 2 weeks, and I'm home alone with the kids. Time to be a single mom," or, "After my afternoon trip to the mall alone with the kids, I don't know how single moms do it."

I can't begin to tell you how deeply offensive this is.

Even if it's followed by a "kudos," it's not a compliment. It stings even worse, actually, because it proves that you don't see us. If you did, you'd never say that.

Being a single parent is not something you choose. It's not something you can turn on and off. It's not something you set out to be. It is thrust upon you, either by person or by circumstance. If you love your child, you'll do it. That's "how we do it." We have to. There is no other option.

It is not a life I would ever wish on anyone. I love my daughter more than life itself, but being a single mom is the hardest job I will ever have. I am physically, mentally, emotionally, and financially stretched 100% of the time. I truly worry that I will die of a heart attack before I'm 40 from stress. I honestly worry about this. I am exhausted day in and day out. I dream of naps I will never, ever get to take. I dream of an empty sink and clean carpets and plenty of washed and folded clothes to choose from on any given day. I dream of a shower.

[Fun fact: I probably only shower 4 times a week at the most. Why? I need sleep more than I need a full shower. I opt for a soap-and-water washcloth wipe all the other times.]

While your little "single mom" charade is temporary, mine is not. Where you have a light at the end of the tunnel (husband, fiance, boyfriend), I have nothing but endless days of sole-responsibility monotony with my highest expectation being that of merely keeping my head above water.

While you may bicker with your significant other about child-rearing, I have to pay a lawyer thousands of dollars several times a year in order to have assistance having a civil, productive conversation with my daughter's father in a courtroom.

While you get to pick and choose when you get solo time away from your kids, I only get it as it is thrust upon me by court-mandated visitation. This is not time I spend in blissful solitude; this is time I split equally between worrying about/missing my daughter and engaging in morning-to-night activities to try to distract myself from such loneliness.

While you get breaks from certain tasks (chores, errands, being "on" as a parent, etc.), know that I never do. Even if my child is away, I'm the only other one who lives here, and I have to do every bit of it.

While you get a literal pair of arms to sink into on tough days, I get only beautiful toddler arms--they are my favorite arms, but these are hugs in which I have to be the strong, sturdy, consoling one. I don't ever get to fall apart.

When you get to unwind sitting next to another human body each evening, I sit silently by myself and marvel at how I've simply made it through another day.

It's not glamorous. At all. I'm a joyful person who seeks out happiness and adventure, despite (and in spite of) this single mom role, and I find it and share it--that's what you see. That's what I get complimented on, and I can't thank you enough for that.

But you don't walk in my shoes on the days when everything around me seems to be an obstacle in my path. The days when I trudge through mud all day long only to go to sleep and do the same thing all day the next day. When I'm one straw away from feeling like I have reached my final limit, and I may actually self-combust from enduring so much stress.

So when someone jokes about being a single mom, yes, I take offense. And, no, I'm not overreacting.

I'm not in the slightest trying to say that I deserve congratulations for parenting all by myself or that I'm better than any other type of mom for it. In fact, I'd argue that I'm a worse mom. My daughter gets the butt end of my lack of patience every single evening when we're both exhausted and fumbling through our bedtime routine. She misses out on a lot of great experiences because we can't afford to do them with our extremely limited household budget. When we're bickering, she can't just go to the other parent for comfort. We're all we've got, and it's not just me doing all the struggling on rough days.

This is not about comparison. This is simply about understanding. If you're lucky enough to be parenting your kids with a partner, I just want you to understand that, no, you don't actually know what this is like. You don't feel what I feel. You couldn't. And I truly hope that you never have to.

But the next time you're about to vent about not knowing how a single parent does it because of your very small glimpse into what it's like to have to do everything all by yourself with no end in sight, I hope that you'll keep that thought to yourself and post something else on Facebook instead.

-Kels

Why is her hair always a mess?

My little baby Kimmy is about to turn 4, and I've been having a really hard time coping. I've been stewing on this blog for a month or so, watching each day come and go, whirling us unrelentingly forward to her birthday, to preschool, to ballet lessons, to her very last year of being a toddler.

I've finally decided that I just don't have the words to describe how much I love her, how proud I am of her, and how thankful I am to have her in my life, so I'm not even going to try to do it justice. A poem (the title of which was fueled by a hateful comment) [to spite the negativity in our lives] and some pictures will have to do!


Why is her hair always a mess?

She is wild like the sun's rays as they dart through the trees,

like the West Virginia blood that has trickled down to her.

She goes where her heart leads,

following each tug with a brave grin.

She plays and laughs and runs, and each curly
ringlet rises up to meet the next big adventure.

She is born from the deepest need for

healing to a mother who wanted her so.

She is her great-grandmother's great-granddaughter,

fiercely strong and aware of the gentlest among us.

She is her nana's heart, joyful and 

compassionate, unwavering in her beliefs.

She is her mommy's best friend, a soft

landing when our days are full of turmoil.

She is a kind smile and a sweet thought

whenever someone hurts.

She is her namesake through and through.

She is the sun, the rain, the moon, and the stars all in one.

Why tiptoe when we can leap and dance?

Why tame a wild thing when there is laughter to be had?

Why hold back when there is a trail to be blazed?

You can always wear your hair down around me, sweet girl. 

Messy or not, we know what our insides are all about.

3 generations and 1 in the womb

The day I left to check into the hospital to have my girl 

The picture that will forever make me feel the most beautiful

My sweet angel girl, 9 days old

6 months

Kimmy's 1st birthday!

Kimmy's 2nd birthday!

Kimmy's 3rd birthday--at Disney World!

Kimmy's 1st haircut on her birthday at WDW!

June 2016, camping with her momma

June 2016, West Beach of Lake Michigan at Indiana Dunes National Park

June 2016, evening playtime with her momma

And now we're 2 days away from age 4. To say I'm in shock would be an understatement.

But, to say I'm excited for all that the future holds for my beautiful Kimmy and me would be an even bigger understatement. I absolutely cannot wait for all that is to come.

I love you, Kimberly Jarae Strickland!

8/7/12 was the start of the best phase of my life, all thanks to YOU!

Love,

Mommy

I want to be better

A lot of my thoughts lately have centered around my goals. What do I want in life? Where am I headed? How can I get there?

In an effort to not be as hard on myself, yet still uphold all my standards and values, I have boiled all my goals down to one goal:

I want to be better.

I want to be a better mother, daughter, friend, listener, achiever, dreamer, student, believer, writer, artist, learner, and adventurer. I never want to stop being better at those things. I will base decisions on that goal, and that will pave my way.

--

After 2 weeks away from my daughter and a weekend of her time being divided between other family and pet doggies, I felt overwhelmingly disconnected, both from my daughter and just from motherhood in general. Yesterday afternoon, I just thought to myself, "There was just an entire chunk of time where I have no clue how my daughter's life was. There was an entire chunk of time where I didn't get to be her mother." I vowed to be a better mother in our time together and really spend more quality time connecting with her.

Last night, I only used my phone to take a few photos and videos of Kimmy and to look up some silly prairie dog, elephant, and owl videos that she wanted to watch. Other than that, we just talked. It was the best evening I've had in a very long time.

I watched a little girl--who is almost a not-so-little girl about to turn 4--blossom from feeling uneasy about being back home and knowing she has a brand new pre-school routine coming up into my happy little talkative girl full of silly ideas, tons of jokes, and loads of creativity. She was so happy to be home and so happy to have my full attention.

We talked all about my travels while she was at her daddy's house. We went out and looked at the garden together. She had a fashion show and tried on her new school clothes for me. I showed her my trip pictures and surprised her with a few souvenirs. I bought myself a harmonica a few weeks ago and have been teaching myself the basics. She was deeply envious of my purchase and wanted to play it all the time, so what did I do when I saw a harmonica in a pretty blue case at the Biltmore toy store? I bought a harmonica!

We've started a Kimmy-Mommy harmonica band. Kimmy took right to it. She made up a song and consistently plays it over and over. I know anyone can pick up a harmonica and blow into it, but it's actually a tricky little instrument (you can't see where you're blowing and have to rely on muscle memory) that makes replicating a tune pretty hard unless you have a good feel for which of the 10 holes is which note. She's a natural.

After a very long and exhausting day and lots of evening playing, Kimmy got to sleep in Mommy's bed. We slept 10+ hours and woke up feeling wonderful.

I have actually not seen Kimmy so calm or happy in the morning in quite some time. I know the sleep had a lot to do with it, but I also think I was a better mother to her last night than I sometimes am.

It's so easy to get caught up in all the trillion things I need to do in a day that by the time I make it home after work, there's very little of me left to give. My daughter, as my only other household member, takes the brunt of that and sees the worst of me more than anyone, simply because she is there to witness it. It's one of many unfairnesses of single parenting: my child needs me most, but circumstance dictates that I have to be spread out thinly elsewhere before I can get back to her.

So, I want to be better for her. She deserves to see the best of me more than anyone in my life. She is my constant. Friends and dudes may come and go in the years to come, but I will always have my Kimmy. She deserves to always have me, too.

I will be better.

-Kels

Guarding my daughter's heart

Want to meet a real momma bear? Talk to me! You will never find a fiercer child advocate. I love my daughter beyond comprehension (as do many parents with their children), and I will do absolutely anything to keep her safe and secure. Especially in the wake of the chaos and back-and-forth that she's forced to endure as the product of a split family.

What kinds of things do I do to protect her? Let's walk through a few!

1. Tell her that I love her no matter what. I recently read a great book called The 5 Love Languages of Children, and I highly recommend it for every parent. It stresses that each child has different ways that they feel loved, and it's up to us parents to recognize those needs and consider how our actions will make our children feel. Some children have many love languages; some have 1 or 2 that really speak to them. Kimmy has some of them all, at least right now.

The main theme of the book, though, is this: your child needs to know, hands down, unequivocally, fully, always, that you love her...no matter what. It's not tied to actions, behaviors, physical things, money, mood, stress, or any source of outside influence. Kimmy loves to talk--not just to talk, but to engage in back-and-forth conversation with question after question fueled by her curious little mind and often even if she already knows the answers. That lets me know that one of her love languages right now is words of affirmation. I tell her frequently that I love her. Even if she's mad or I'm mad or something's not going right. I let that little sentence--"I love you, Kimmy."--stand all by itself.

2. Give her structure and a solid routine. I can't control what goes on outside our house, but I can control our home. Toddlers are emotional little beings, full of fluctuating levels of feeling understood, appreciated, and confident. I happen to be blessed with an incredibly articulate little girl who is low on the mood swing and tantrum spectrum. (In lamen's terms, she's an old soul and has this amazing aura of emotional maturity that very few toddlers have. So cool to witness!)

However, as a child of custody and visitation and being passed back and forth and having her comfort disrupted, she is susceptible to deep unsettling feelings on the inside. I see it when she bursts into crocodile tears once in a blue moon when I come home for lunch and have to leave to go back to work. I see it when she stalls at bedtime and bolts up to ask in a slight panic, "Am I staying at Kimmy's house tomorrow?", "What am I doing tomorrow, Mommy?", or "What time/day is it? Do you have to work tomorrow, Momma?" At our house, she is safe and secure. We have rules and bedtimes and regular meals. We have playtime and talking time; reading time and praying time. Kimmy and Mommy's house is safe and sound.

3. Give her thoughtful surprises! This is my favorite thing to do as a mom. Every time Kimmy comes back home from being at her dad's, I make sure to do a little something to welcome her home and let her know how happy I am to see her again. It's not about gifts or spending money; it's about being present in my daughter's life--showing her that her heart, time, thoughts, ideas, and actions are safe with Mommy. I don't want her to ever be spoiled or to expect things, so I mix it up a lot and make sure that I'm giving her a wide array of little surprises and activities. The point is to make her feel loved and to welcome her back into quality time with me with open arms.

Here's a list of some of the things I've done so far:

• Pick up a fresh stack of books from the library
• Grab a donut with chocolate and sprinkles (Kimmy's favorite kind)
• Get a decaf Frappuccino and pour some in a kid cup, then scoop all the whipped cream on top just for my little lady
• Clean her room and lay out a favorite pair of PJs to wear at bedtime
• Write her a card and let her open it when she gets home
• Bake cookies or muffins and have them ready for her
• Go straight to the playground when we get home
• Set up a coloring station on the dining room table to spend time talking and coloring
• Visit the grocery store, let Kimmy push the cart (seriously, Kroger and Sam's Club are her 2 favorite places on earth right now), let her carry in a bag when we get home, and let her put the items in the bag away. (Okay, I'm aware this one sounds lame, but she loves doing this. I can tell it makes her feel so important, and she knows she will have yummy things to eat at her house when we arrive!)
• Put out all the ingredients for dinner and let her help me cook a meal (even if it takes 4 times as long and my hair turns gray in the time it takes for dinner to cook)
• Tell her a surprise (like plans I've made to do a future fun thing...in this case, Disney) and spend time looking at pictures and videos of said fun place online
• Give her my phone to play with for a little while when we get home. Those eyes light up, and she always feels so special that she gets to use something of mine!

I imagine this could get hairy if I ever surprised her with something drastic like re-arranging the living room or getting rid of half her toys. That would kind of defeat the purpose of welcoming her back to a safe place. For a more drastic surprise, I would probably have to create a longer period of easing her into it...or just un-surprise it and let her help me with whatever the drastic thing is. More on this later, I guess. For now, those happy smiles and excited words at all the little surprises are all my heart needs to know I'm doing something right.

-Kels

Life before and after Kimmy

It's no secret that my daughter was a huge surprise. After our initial shock, Jarrell and I quickly accepted that Kimmy would be part of our lives without ever looking back. She is such a joy!

We all have our tales of pre-baby naïveté, though, and this is mine.

While I was pregnant with Kimmy, Jarrell and I basically did whatever we wanted when we wanted. We went to the movies, the grocery store, out for drives, to the bedroom to take naps, out shopping, out to eat, etc.

I knew pregnancy was hard work, tiring, and no small responsibility.

I knew labor was painful. I knew it was generally a long process for a first child.

I knew very well that not all babies are good (calm, happy, good sleepers, all that) and was aware that newborns drained you of all energy. However, I had been around enough babies to feel comfortable caring for and being tender with my own newborn.

Despite all the [unsolicited] advice from friends and family, I was still in for a few shockers once my sweet baby arrived. I suppose it's a rite of passage for all parents and is just one of those things you have to experience for yourself.

Shocker #1: morning sickness is no light, laughing matter--pregnancy is hard. It can rock your world. My 1st trimester was ripe with weight loss (22 lbs.) and sleeping up to 18 hours a day. The most physically exhausting time of my entire life to date.

Shocker #2: labor pains HURT, and giving birth is no easy feat. Worst pain of my life. Worse than anyone could ever attempt to describe. Epidurals sometimes don't take. In my case, neither of mine did. Sometimes labor doesn't progress as it should. Birth plans can go awry. C-sections become a valid option when you've all but given up on getting your child out of the womb. (Side note: Having a C-section doesn't make you any less of a person, woman, or mother, and your birth can be just as joyous as a traditional birth!)

Shocker #3: newborns cry. A lot. I was fully prepared for my baby to be instantly comforted by whatever means I attempted to calm her. Wrong! Newborns have to learn to be comforted by what their parents do. It took a full week for Kimmy to be calmed as quickly and easily as I had envisioned. Luckily, I was blessed with a wonderfully happy child who was relatively low-maintenance as newborns go.

Shocker #4: free time is a thing of the past. I knew the first few months would be exhausting, but all those people who warned me about never sleeping again were actually wrong. Kimmy has always been a good sleeper, and sleeping when she slept as an infant made feeling rested a pretty attainable goal most days.

What they really should have warned me about was never getting to do anything on my time table again...such as getting out of the house by a certain time, getting to go to the store alone, being able to spend time or money on yourself or your own needs, and (the most shocking to me for whatever reason) getting to go to the movies. Jarrell and I have been to the movies once since Kimmy was born. One time. We used to go all the time, but what a different phase of life we are in! I've been twice with Kimmy to see animated films, but it would be lovely to go see something with my big love again.

I don't know what I was thinking--maybe that after a certain point in Kimmy's childhood we'd get more free time. Or I guess maybe that's true, but we're still a few years away from that. Babies and toddlers need constant care. It is very much a give, give, give activity being a mother...but I gain much more than I ever thought possible by giving my love and attention to Kimmy-girl.

(And, luckily, we do have one free night of childcare lined up for when we do decide to go to the movies next! It's wonderful to have good friends.)

The lesson in all this: be appreciative. Priorities change, life becomes about other things, and routine becomes a thing of the past. Through all this, never take things for granted because you never know when your "normal" will shift.

More later. 

-Kels