A Guest Post, from Diapers & Skinny Jeans

Today’s guest post is from Kate over at Diapers & Skinny Jeans. Kate is a beautiful mama to two and a freelance photographer. So, ya know, same same but different. She’s here today to talk about breastfeeding. Many thanks, Kate, for sharing.
If I could have just told myself, had a sit-down conversation and taken my own hand, I’d have said, “Listen up.” Gentle, yet stern. I would tell myself all the things I’d learned through this breastfeeding experience.  I’d talk about the pressures, the struggles, how from the moment I started that it was ok to be a little embarrassed.  That it would be hard going back to work full time and trying to pump, and that I should go easy and rest often.  I’d remind myself to drop the “you-know-everything” act, and let the lactation consultants do their job.  To ask for help when you needed it.  To be okay with feelings of failure, doubt, sadness; they happen to everyone.  To remind myself that I was doing the most important job, the very best job, of being a mother.
After beginning the breastfeeding journey with the birth of my second child, Alba, it put a lot of things into perspective for me.  There’s a certain confidence that comes with experience.  There were many things that I had to make peace with first, like weaning my first daughter before I was ready.  I never expected it to resonate so deeply inside of me, all of my past memories both good and bad, but they did.  I remembered how absolutely clueless I was the first time around, though I had tried my damnedest to read every instructional how-to ever made.  It’s funny how that works.  You can never really prepare yourself for it. I plan on breastfeeding my new daughter up until she chooses it’s time to quit.  Definitely over a year, maybe even two.  Do I know I can get there for sure?  Absolutely not.  But I’m okay with that now.  The experience itself goes by so quickly, and really, all I’m trying to do is enjoy every second that I have.  It’s so hard to quiet the chatter of what society thinks, what the stranger sitting next to you thinks, your mom, your in-laws, that ever opinionated friend you have – I know.  I’ve been there.  And for what it’s worth, the most important advice you can ever get is to not take any of it and go with your own gut instincts.  You just gave birth to your child, the most powerful thing that I’m sure you’ve ever experienced.  You are a mother.  You are learning, and your child is growing and thriving and completely your own.  You are perfect.  This whole breastfeeding thing is more intuitive than we give it credit for, and babies are the most masterful of teachers.I look at the two of them and everything they’ve taught me and how they continue to be the greatest blessings I’ve ever known.  My eldest and her fierce independence, my baby and her cautious, careful gaze.  My opposites, yet perfectly complimentary to one another. Ying and yang.  So much in motherhood has become all about balance.
If I want to breastfeed in public, I do.  If I need to call in sick because I miss spending time with my kids, I will.  If your body starts to make less milk before you’re ready to quit, it’s okay.  If you chose not to breastfeed, or were unable to, you’re supported.  This is the hardest, most rewarding job on the planet, and no matter how you do it, we are all just feeding our children with love.
Thank you so much to Ashley for having me over on The Stork & The Beanstalk. I’m tickled to be among who I consider to be one of the most inspiring mothers and writers I’ve ever met.  This lady right here?  I swear.  She tells it like it is and I love that about her.
 You can find Kate here: Blog // Instagram // Facebook

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Brothers

Hooper, you’ve taken to holding Van’s hand and leading him around. I’m not gonna lie, I couldn’t wait for Van to walk for the pure joy of watching you walk side by side. It really is a beautiful thing.
When you’re not holding hands, you two are at each other constantly. Hooper, you’re lucky you’re still bigger than your soon-to-be little-big-bro because one of these days he’s going to tackle you. And I may even pretend not to see. You can be so mean at times; biting him, grabbing his arm with all your might (note photo above with your teeth clinched n’ all), pushing him (especially from behind when he has no idea it’s coming), and taking every toy away that he manages to get his hands on. Some days it’s just easier to put on Curious George so we can all have a moment of peace.
Van, you copy everything Hooper does. If he’s fixing his wheel with a hammer, as soon as you can get that hammer, you’ll bend down and mimic exactly what Hooper was doing. You really idolize your big brother and take so much pride in doing the things he does.
Hooper, you like to “help” wash Van in the bathtub. This consists of rubbing soap on his back and dumping water on his head. It’s really a big “help”.
Hooper, you love to hold Van’s cheeks in your hands and say “ca-uuuuut”. You also enjoy giving him a hug and a kiss every night before bed.

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The Long Way Home

Kho Pha Ngan, Thailand, 2006
Getting to the very essence of life is more challenging than anything else. Making sense of it. It’s interesting to consider how long we’ve fought and worked for the things we have today; technology (plasma TV’s, cell phones, fast cars) and capitalism (because bigger is better and excess is wealth), yet it seems these things we’ve taken so long to obtain are the very same things we need to rid ourselves of to feed our hungry souls. It’s only when I’m taken away from these things that my soul is fed. It leads me to believe that the bigger challenge is freeing yourself and feeding your soul in the midst of all the chaos we have created.
You can check out other posts in this series by clicking here.

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The Long Way Home

San Fernando Valley, 2006
“Stand on the peak of the mountain and contemplate the long ranges of hills, observe the courses of rivers and all the glories offered to your view, and what feeling seizes you? It is a calm prayer, you lose yourself in unbounded space, your whole being undergoes a clarification and purification, your ego disappears, you are nothing.”
-Carl Gustav Carus
As the future nears the present, and the present grows increasingly closer to the past it becomes clear – again – as to why I’m here… back at my parents, back with my best friend. The journey is peeking it’s head out from around the corner. We’ve been playing a game of hide and seek. It’s chasing me at the moment. Been trying my best to distract myself from

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the one thing I can’t do anymore than wait for — travel. I can feel my senses awakening. I sense my view of the world on the brink of change. I crave it – can’t wait to get away.

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A Guest Post, from LaTonya Yvette

Today we have a lovely guest post from super-hip mama LaTonya from the Old, New, and the Wee one too (Pop over to her blog to read my guest post). You may also know her as one half of the team behind Welkin NYC. She’s as sweet as she is stylish and I’m just dying to get to New York so we could hang.
Hi guys! While Ashley is home recovering from a massive surgery (girl, I hope you’re getting lots of hugs, kisses, and sweet cuddles) I am here to bring a quick little style post. When Ashley asked me to do this, I was all kinds of excited. I am such a little fan girl of her sweet blog. I have often spent nights trying to figuire out how to get her here to New York and teach me some photography things. One day.
Let’s get to style shall we?
Well, I’ve been a stylist for a quite a few years now. I would say 7 years on and off. I have always loved the fashion world as a kid, but didn’t quite grow to know it until I started working in it. As the years went on, I went from a partying teenager, to a young mama with a few extra lbs (you know how that is), that were so stubborn… I just gave up. With that, I switched a lot of my style “expertise” if you will, to also help other mamas out. Even if the extra lbs aren’t my client’s problem, the basic ground of new mama drama is usually one in the same. The whole balance of looking cute, comfortable, and chic is quite hard isn’t it?
Anyway, here’s a little something about a skirt that has a stereotype that proceeds itself.
When I was younger and skinnier a full skirt felt like something that would swallow me up. I wanted to hold onto any shape I had (wasn’t much) and the wide skirt did not allow for that. So I thought.
Years later, I gained weight, but more importantly two beautiful pregnancies and one beautiful baby. My hips tell the story. They were made for birthing I tell you. I embrace my new found curves, but at the same time, things don’t fit the same. Also, walking miles and miles and miles a day throughout the city also made my calves much larger-another story. So once again, a wide skirt did not seem like it was for me. Instead of swallowing me up, I felt it would hug me completely wrong. Again, I thought wrong.
I gave my vintage full skirt a try. With confidence, without reservations.
It worked. I loved it.
I think a full skirt is one of those pieces that just comes with a stigma. And some of us aren’t willing to risk it and maybe-possiblly kick that stigma’s ass!
DO IT!
If you decided to give the full skirt a try, a basic top goes well and is super easy styling wise. Also, a button up with a pair of heals work just as well. Or for a comfy look, throw on a pair of sneakers and a basic t-shirt!
Good luck, and next time you see that full skirt at the thrift store-get it!
You can visit LaTonya’s blog by clicking here // Welkin NYC // Instagram // Pinterest
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The Long Way Home

I’ve been wanting to share some of my travel tales on here for some time, for a lot of reasons. For one, I want my words to live somewhere other than the bursting-at-the-seams journal I have them in now. More than that though, these tales are the foundation of who I am; they mark a point in my life when I was wild and free and my mind ever-expanding. It all started when I was lost and, by the end, I was found. These tales are my personal journey, before I was a wife, before I was a mother. I’ll be posting these every Monday, I hope you enjoy.
San Francisco, 2006
“…And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You’ll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin’
Then you better start swimmin’
Or you’ll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin’…”
-Bob Dylan
One charge gives birth to another. Now isn’t that the truth and pattern of life? Reproduction. Cycles. It all comes in waves; waves of furry, waves of peace. One wave continuously follows another.
Been giving change some thought. Ready for new challenges and maybe searching for new

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scenery. Been dreaming big dreams of far away places. Ready to break out the box we all trap ourselves in. Been thinking about my future. Ready to close old doors and open new ones.

Yes, indeed, change is in the air.
This year, the tide has changed. I’m smarter and stronger. Amazing who you become when suddenly it seems you’re all you got.

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Life

When I’m in the moment, sometimes I want nothing more than to be out of the moment. I hate saying that because I know how important it is to be present. But sometimes the kids are just all sorts of crazy and I can’t think about anything other than the mess I’m surrounded in, the dishes, the laundry, the shower I want to take, etc… and the moment slips away.
I photograph my children a lot because it’s something I enjoy doing. I love documenting all the mundane moments… even when my mind is elsewhere. And it’s a funny thing because I’ll upload the pictures after I put them to bed and all I can think of is how precious they are and how lovely that moment really was even though, at the time, it felt so chaotic and relatively unfulfilling.
Motherhood is such an oxymoron like that, isn’t it? What’s a snapshot of your life look like today?

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We got this

The kids and I tagged along on another one of Willy’s business trips out in Palm Springs a few weeks ago. Being a mother to two young children is not easy even on seemingly quiet and easy days at home. So anytime we travel, we know, shit can hit the fan.
Lately, however, life with the boys has been a breeze. And for the first time, on our drive out to the desert, I looked over at Willy and said, “We got this”.
Van is at that age where he is no longer a baby and not yet a tyrant toddler. He’s so enjoyable and easy. I’m done breastfeeding and now that I’ve gotten past all that hormonal bullshit, I’m throwing myself high fives left and right. Breastfeeding is great, I’ll be the first and last one to defend it, but being done is so freeing. It’s easier to look at my family as one unit as opposed to Van and I off in the corner keeping to our own private schedule of neurotic feedings.
Life is running at a less chaotic pace and we’re all enjoying the tranquility. Perhaps it was the calm before what is soon-to-be the storm. Be it what it may, we had a fabulous time and life has been treating us good. Today, I’m counting my blessings and feeling grateful.
More photos from our time in Palm Springs and our return to the Salton Sea to follow.

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Breastfeeding

You can’t see things straight when you’re depressed, you just can’t. I knew enough in those dark two days after I weaned to know that I was in a funk, that things that were once exciting were no longer exciting. I shared my thoughts here and here. The fact I’m still writing about it has got to tell you I’m an emotional person. I mean I declared that post to be my last breastfeeding post and that was what is now four breastfeeding posts ago. Good grief, get ahold of yourself Ashley.
And, well, I want to give an update because I don’t think it’s fair to leave things on a sour note. My mind is clear and I’m back to my happy place, so I can reflect on our breastfeeding relationship with a sparkle in my eye as I reminisce on how things were at one time, in the beginning.
And that’s part of why ending your breastfeeding relationship is hard; it’s the end of a very long and tiring and emotional first chapter.
But there’s a second chapter and a third chapter and so on and so forth. As I type this, Van is handing me an over-sized birthday card my Aunt and Uncle gave him for his first birthday. When you open it, music plays and each time he drops his little bottom back and forth toward the floor. He sees my chapstick on my desk; it’s the same chapstick I had to take away from him yesterday when he managed to get the top off and began eating the contents of the tube. He whines and points in the chapstick’s direction and when I take the chapstick and hide it away in the drawer, he cries. He looks at me with tears in his eyes and I comfort him, his thumb in his mouth, his head on my chest.
Every time he has his thumb in his mouth, I think about it being my replacement. When I was breastfeeding him, he never sucked his thumb. And as I look down at him, I think how amazing it is that he’s able to comfort himself. I see, for the first time, the beauty in his independence.
And so, you see, the second chapter reads just as beautifully as the first. It’s just different. He’s not a baby anymore. But he’ll always be my child.
And thank you, again, to all of you that leave such beautiful comments. Sometimes it’s your own words that make me see things differently and I appreciate new perspectives more than you know.
You can check out my other posts on breastfeeding by clicking here

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A Guest Post: Michelle Gardella

Today is the first guest post of a few I have planned while I’m in the hospital and recovering from my surgeryMichelle is a constant source of inspiration and courage for me. Her talent is one thing, but her soul will absolutely blow you away. She inspired this postI wrote back in June and I’m so thrilled to have her here on The Stork today. I said it before, and I’ll say it again: Asking for help when you’re an artist is a hard thing. When you make something, it becomes an extension of yourself and every time you put that something out into the world, there’s a part of you that becomes vulnerable.
With no further adieu…
I teach a class online, and at the core of the curriculum it’s all about telling the truth. With our photographs, with our words, to the world, and most importantly, to ourselves.
Each week I’d show up and share. And each week, I felt like the biggest coward ever. Here I was, preaching and praying for the reclamation of everyone’s creative fires, but deep inside I was completely ignoring my own. I was encouraging everyone else to fight down their resistance, while completely bowing down to mine. I was waiting for the day when I wasn’t so terrified.
A book.
It has always been my one giant dream. The scary kind of dream that makes you want to run away forever. The kind that keeps you awake at night. The kind that resurrects your biggest inner demons: self-doubt, fear, denial.
A book.
I launched my kickstarter campaign. And it might seem so romantic and beautiful and poetic. And it is! Don’t get me wrong. But it is also in the face of the accumulation of countless inner fights with myself. “What are you thinking?! Why would ANYONE want to see your images or words printed?! If you fail your children will think so little of you!” Yup. My resistance doesn’t mess around, and this whole process has taught me this:
It’s never going to feel easy. It’s never going to feel fearless. Your palms will sweat, and your adrenaline will charge, and your mind will totally keep playing tricks on you. But, you HAVE to do it anyways.
My son shared a quote with me this morning, “Can you be brave when you are totally afraid? In fact, that is the ONLY time it can be called bravery.”

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Bits + Pieces

::cough cough:: Excuse me while I get caught up on my bits + pieces from the last few months. Where does the time go? Apparently time flies when you’re bumper car busting, messy food eating, truck driving, apple snacking, park lying, car playing, backyard running, and door opening. And if that last pic isn’t a glimpse into Hooper’s first grade yearbook, I dunno what is. I mean…

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Hooper @ 34 Months

Growth & Appearance: You have little blond hair on your legs that cute me out every time I take notice of them.
You seem to have gone through a growth spurt and have longer legs than I remember you having just last month.
Your hair is constantly in your face. We’ve tried putting some gel in so that it’s tucked off to the side but that only seems to work for a short while. Still waiting on it to be long enough to tuck behind your ears. 
Eating: Feeding you isn’t the pain in the ass that it used to be. Mealtimes are much quicker and relatively painless these days. You’re still hesitant about trying new things, but with encouragement and/or threats, you will give something new a try. You eat whatever we’re eating for dinner every night and without much fuss. In fact, for the first time ever, you’re requesting snacks. I think you must be going through a growth spurt. I will, however, say that you often spit your food out, declaring a bite “too big”, which is annoying. We’re also still having to feed you the majority of the time because you just aren’t interested otherwise. If we left it up to you, we’d be at the table all day long with a full plate of food.
You give what we call “dinner hugs” every night at dinner, but mostly only to me. I love it.
You like to pretend to bring us food and after giving us the piece of paper you refer to as a “donut” you ask, “nuff?”, to which I always reply “no”, and you bring me more. 
Sleeping: Some days you nap, other days you don’t. It’s quite obvious when you need a wee little rest but even then, at times, you fight it. More times than not, it depends on what you did the day before.
Here’s your schedule: Wake up between 8:30 and 9, nap around 4 for an hour or two, bed around 9. Talking: You still talk like Curious George a lot, using grunts and groans with different emphasis to get your point or your question across. I refuse to put Curious George on anymore. You’ve been learning about the alphabet instead, and surprisingly, you’re into it. Typical first born, I suppose.
Funny things you say:
“Mama hold you” (mama hold me)
“Mama see dat?” (mama did you see that?)
“Put brodder HERE” (said with awkward pauses between each word and with odd emphasis on the “here”)
“Have uh ______” (insert: snack, hug, tiss-U… said when you want something)Development: You must know you’re on the brink of turning three because you’re behavior has been pushing the limits. You’ve developed a love for spitting and nearly landed a wad of saliva on the hostess when we went out to dinner. You spit right in Papa’s face the other day as well. You also like throwing things. The other day you were throwing your cars wildly up into the air just to see where they would land. You’re a spitting wrecking ball.
You know the difference between a nickel, dime, and penny, and you love putting coins into your bank and them shaking them until they fall out the bottom.
You’ve been jumping everywhere. It’s hard to get a decent picture of you anymore because your head is always bobbing up and down.
You like to count to three by saying, “one two two fee”.
You’re more into pretend. You have, what resembles, real conversations on your pretend telephone. You also like to tuck your blanket between your legs and pretend to have a tail. And in the bath you make “cake” out of the soap suds.
You’re still learning how to be nice and how to share. You aren’t always the best playdate on the block; you’ve been known to hit or push people you call your friends. By the same token, you love to give hugs and kisses so there is something sweet deep down in that little big soul of yours. You also love babies and are very gentle with them.
You like painting and coloring. You mostly use your left hand, but occasionally your right as well.
Potty training: you rarely have accidents with #1. You like doing #2, however, in the comfort of your own room with the light off during nap time. I take you to the potty every day before your nap and, without fail, I close the door after I put you down and hear you grunting on the other side. Twenty minutes later your at your door telling me you made ca-ca.
You come up to me with your head down, chin to your chest, shoulders slumped, and proclaim “sad”. I scoop you up into my arms, give you a hug, and then you want down and return to what you were doing with energy I only wish I could match. I think you’re learning what different emotions are. I’ve been telling you that it’s okay to be sad, but I don’t really believe you’re sad.
You like things in their place. For example, if one of your dresser drawers is not all the way shut, you shut it. It amazes me that you even notice.
On any given day, you can be found with your tool belt on underneath the kitchen table with your hammer and flat head “fixing” the table. The table is not broken, fyi. Favorites: You still love your cars and play / line them up every day. You like to link them together or stack blocks in the beds of the pickup trucks and ask for “help pweez” when they don’t connect correctly or when you can’t get the blocks to balance just right. You also like playing outside with the hose but hate when the water is turned on you. You love your new toy tool set that Papa bought for you and pretend to fix things all day long, especially the wheels on your cars.
You love Thomas the Train and get mad at us when we call the trains by their wrong name, something we do intentionally because we’re cuted out that you know each and every one of them. Still, I hate TV.

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Preparing For Surgery

I did a lot of things to prepare for the home birth I had planned with both my boys. When I was pregnant with Hooper, I went to prenatal yoga classes. We took all the classes on natural childbirth as well as the class on breastfeeding. I was as prepared as I could have been.
I had little idea of what the pain would be like. People tried relating it to taking the biggest shit of your life, others said breathing a certain way might help, yadda yadda yadda. But truth is, childbirth hurt. A lot. But, not so much that it’s not possible and not so much that I wouldn’t do it again; because I’ve done it twice now.
I’m having the better part of my entire spine fused soon and I’ve been forewarned that the pain is intense. While part of me wants to shrug it off entirely like they don’t know who they’re talking to, the other part of me knows this pain will be much different and felt for much longer on many different levels; there’s post-op pain, there’s two days after surgery pain, there’s getting up and walking pain, there’s I’m feeling better but the next morning I feel worse pain. I’m scared.
Some might argue that now is not the time for as major of a surgery as I am having. Part of me agrees. Recovery is not going to be easy. I have two young children who need me all day long. But I also have the rest of my life to plan out and, in my mind anyway, this is something I have already put off for years. The thought of having a third child is a very real consideration (for me, anyway, and for Willy, at times) and between waiting for the right time to have a third, getting pregnant, growing a child, and breastfeeding a child, I’d be looking at another three years at-which-point I’d be exactly where I am now, only with one more kid. Not to mention it’s a young person’s surgery, meaning that the correction that can be acheived and the recovery time is better the younger you are.
I’m talking out loud here. Welcome to the conversations I’ve been having with myself. I’m digressing. Back to how I’m preparing.
I grew up doing competitive gymnastics. I went to gym Monday through Friday from 4pm to 8pm from the time I was about 11 until I was 17 years old. I’m that girl that can beat her husband in a push-up contest (that either means I’m really strong or my husband is… well, I’ll let you decide for yourself). In any event, I haven’t worked out in years. So I reached out to a friend who was on the men’s team who now runs Fitness On The Run. I was at the gym the night Jon broke his neck. It was crazy and the thought of the silence that filled that huge warehouse that evening still sends shivers down my spine. You can read about his story here. He hooked me up with his wife, who was a college gymnast. You can read more about her by clicking here.
Here are some of the many perks I’ve noted while working with Cari:
-She comes to me. I cannot tell you how much of a hassle it’d be otherwise. I didn’t want to sign up for a gym membership knowing that there’d be months following my surgery I wouldn’t be able to use it. I also didn’t want to join a gym cuz, um, gross. I had a fellow nurse once tell me about a patient who had an open anal abscess infected with MRSA. When she instructed him, upon discharge, about wound care he replied, “I just soak it in the spa at the gym”. Um, gross. No wonder why everyone has MRSA. Gyms just aren’t my thing. Gymnasiums, on the other hand… Really though, I love the beauty of never having to leave my home. It makes it so much less of an ordeal with the kiddos. Cari almost always came over in the morning, before the kids were even out of bed. Easy peasy.
-Cari assessed my abilities, my limitations, my hopes and desires and tailored her workouts to meet my needs perfectly. Each workout brought me right to the point where I didn’t think I could go any further. And she always left me with homework and ways to change the exercies just a bit to make them easier or harder, depending on what my body could handle.
-I loved Cari’s attention to form. I know from my own gymnastics foundation that it’s not what you can so much as it is how well you can do it. I love that she’d rather have me hold something for 30 seconds with good form than for a minute with sloppy body mechanics.
-Flexibility. Cari worked with me and my home so well. She encouraged me to do some cardio each week and when finding the time to get out and ride a bike or hike up a hill didn’t work out (thanks a lot, motherhood) she came up with a cardio routine I could do in my home.
The first week was so difficult for me. I could barely hold a pen without my arm shaking, but it felt great. And it got easier as I got stronger.
Sure, I’m terrified of surgery. I won’t know how I’m going to deal with the pain and the recovery process until I’m in pain and in the recovery process, but I do have the power in knowing I prepared as best I could to meet the physical demands.
Live in the So Cal area? Check out Fitness On The Run. They are based in Newbury Park and I highly recommend them.
Don’t live in the So Cal area? Checkout some of their videos on YouTube. They also post some great recipes on their blog. And the sell several great products here.
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Van @ 14 Months

Growth & Appearance: You push your jaw forward when you smile, cry, or laugh and, at times, we’ve wondered if you have a true under-bite. I don’t think you do, but the way you jet it forward is awfully cute.
You’re very into accessorizing these days and constantly request that we put your shoe on your feet, or a hat on your head, sunglasses on your face, a backpack on your back, or shorts on. You’re perfectly content with just one shoe on and have earned the nickname “one van boot” which we pronounce as “onevinboot”.
We shaved your head. You hair appears toe-head blond now and I’m curious to see how it grows in. Someone referred to you as uncle Fester and I kind of agree, though more times than not people are calling you your Papa’s twin. The other day I told your Papa that you look more like him as a baby than his own baby pictures look like him. It’s weird.
Your top left canine popped through. More teeth are on their way.
You have a bruise or scrap somewhere on your body at all times.
Eating: We had to throw out all the bottles because you chewed through all of the nipples. We’ve moved on to sippy cups and invested in the spill-proof ones, which have been heaven sent because you’re a fan of spilling your milk everywhere.
You’re much better with using your fork, but not so great with a spoon. We’ve graduated from putting food directly on the table in front of you and are now feeding you like a normal human being, with food on a plate.
You seem to be eating less than you were before, probably due to the fatty whole milk you’ve been drinking. Some days you drink a lot but don’t eat a lot, other days you drink and eat a lot, other days you hardly drink anything but eat more than me. I’ve learned to let it all go. You’re healthy, you’re happy, and that’s enough for me. I don’t take inventory.
You enjoy feeding Sarah and you ask her to sit (in your own language that she doesn’t understand) prior to giving her a piece of food.
You love eating crayons at restaurants but end up spitting them out most of the time anyway. 
Sleeping: You wake up ready to go every morning. As soon as I lift you out of the crib you are pointing and grunting at something. I don’t even think you know what you want to get to. Rather, you point first and look for what you want second.
When you’re tired, you stick your left thumb in your mouth and rub your head with your right hand. You look like a little monkey. We call this “the Carla”, named after your best friend who’s done it since the beginning.
Your schedule looks like this: Wake up about 8:30 (though some mornings as late as 9), nap around 10:30 until 1:15, nap again from 4:30 to 6, and go to sleep around 9. You’re a good sleeper.
You’re attached to your blanket. 
Talking: You say “hi-E” with a grunt and urgency behind it. You’ll say hi to anyone but most times people don’t even realize you’re talking to them.
You know where the cookies are and try, with all your might, to say “cookie”. Instead, it comes out as “coo-k” with some pointing, grunting, and whining.
You make this weird Darth Vader grunting noise. We always do it back at you and what follows is a weird Darth Vader grunting conversation.
You raise both arms, palms up to the sky, when we say “all gone”.
In your own language that only we understand you say balloon, car, dog, and belly. 
Development: You give high fives, which means it’ll no longer be awkward when a stranger comes up and puts their hand in front of your face.
You’re able to squat down and pick up a toy and stand back up again with ease.
You love trying to jump. You also do what we call “fancy feet”, where you stomp your feet in quick succession.
You follow commands and are a good listener. When I tell you to stop throwing food and to put it in your mouth, you do.
You are most always happy and carefree. You love to socialize and laugh.
You know where your belly is and happily lift your shirt up to show us that lil’ gut of yours. You’re learning where your eyes and nose are too and you like to point to them.
You love to look at books, but only certain books and you whine each time until you get to the one page you want to look at over and over again. The way you back up to sit in my lap to be read to pulls at my heart strings. Sometimes I grab your little chunk legs so hard I think I’m going to hurt you. You’re just so yummy. This is such a fun phase you’re in right now.
Favorites: You love the days the gardeners come and you’ll stand at the window saying “hi-E” to them over and over.
There is one particular touch and feel book that you love. It’s an Easter book and you love the page with the sparkly eggs on it. You look at it over and over and always flip back to that page to run your fingers over those glittered eggs.
You’re at the stage where my keys and phone are always on your “must have” list.

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Childhood Unplugged.

When I was a younger women, I’d dream about what motherhood would be like. I used to subscribe to Adbusters and I remember an image they published of a young girl in front of the TV. Her mouth was open, eyes dazed, body slumped. If the TV had not been in the frame, you would have thought she belonged in a mental hospital.
I vowed not to be the kind of mom that let her kids sit in-front of the TV for hours on end.
It seemed like an easy decision before real kids actually entered the picture. Now that I am a mother, I realize that getting the kids out and encouraging them to interact with dare-I-say-it, their environment, is – well – a lot of work for me.
I’m not a perfect parent. In fact, I’m well aware of my shortcomings. Truth be told, I put Super Why! on for Hooper so I could sit down to write this post in peace. Van’s napping.
The flip-side of limiting technology in your child’s life is that you have play an active roll. By the same token, for me, less TV means more fighting over toys, more hitting, slower and more frustrating meal times, and less peace n’ quiet.
And yet, I think know it’s really important.
It’s with great pride I introduce you to Childhood Unplugged. I’ve been invited to share one image, once a month, along with several other photographers I’m pleased as pie to be associated with. You can click on the button below to see the image I chose and to check out the images others chose as well.
How did you unplug this month?