Y'all. 

My brain is fried. It's done. I've got nothing left but maternal instinct to rely on. 

I don't know if it was traveling so many miles in so few days, a terrible growth spurt, or a sudden change in my diet that sparked it all... but my child's goal in life has been to make me cry lately. I've thrown my hands in the air in despair, I've buried my face in my hands, and I've even cried as loud as she has in the late hours of the evening. I don't know what's going on in this baby's head, but I'm scheduling a massage as SOON as we survive it. Things got so bad around here yesterday, I turned on an episode of "Teen Mom," just because I needed to feel like I was doing a better job than somebody else at motherhood. These are dark days. She has cried more in the past 72 hours than she has in the last two months combined. I've got a bald spot where my bangs used to be, I'm sure of it.

Yet somehow, in the midst of the chaos, in the midst of hysterics, and in the midst of my feelings of failure... the Lord brings comfort. Whether that be through my husband taking the baby away for a minute so that I can pull myself together, whether it be my mother reminding me that I'm a good mom, or whether that be a lyric in a song that reminds me that this is just a part of the story. Redemption is coming, but so are harder days. Maybe a screaming baby will be a piece of cake compared to trying to comfort an adolescent facing her first heartbreak. It's hard that Ella can't tell me what's wrong right no, but I fear it will be harder when she can tell me... but I still won't be able to make it better. Oh, Lord, give me grace. And let those days be far from now. 

ANYWAY! Let's not dwell on those thoughts. I really don't even know why I felt obligated to write about the wretched turmoil of the past few days... but then again, writing helps me escape. Some people  run their stresses away (I've never been one of those people. Those people and their Greek God legs can just shut up), some people bake (I have a terrible habit of overcooking and making things dry out), some people drive (Those people are not budget savvy like I am), and some people listen to music (Sometimes this works for me... not today.) I write. I lay it all out in my journal... or sometimes I hop on the Internet and blog about it, because I know that somebody else will relate. I never want my blog to imply that our lives are peaches and cream, because that would be a lie. Some days, we're lucky if I shower... let's not even discuss the look on my husband's face when he caught a glimpse of my leg hair a few days ago. 5 days out of 7, I'm irritated if I have to get out of my pajamas. 6 days out of 7, there's no make up on this face. Some days I look in the mirror and think "Who are you?" Those are usually the days that my shirt clings to my stomach just enough to remind me that I still have a little bit of a baby belly. Those are the days that Ella spits up all over me, so my hair ends up in a ponytail that looks like a first grader did my hair. Those are the days that I notice my teeth aren't as white as they are in the pictures from high school when I used white strips and weighed 90 pounds. Those are the days that the circles under my eyes look a little blacker than they did the day before... and those are the days that I hate that I'm not a fitness guru. Those are the days that I wish I was more committed to a diet regimen. Those are the days that I'm disgusted by the way I look, and it manifests itself in my attitude. 

The time phase following birth is simultaneously the most sacrificial and selfish thing I've ever experienced. The days that I need to hear that my husband still thinks I'm sexy are the days that he's missed Ella madly. And while it normally melts me to see him walk by me and go love on our baby... some days, I want to throw a shoe at his head and scream "JESUS SAYS YOU HAVE TO LOVE ME MORE THAN YOU LOVE HER!" The funny side of that selfishness is that when he does come to me ten minutes later and playfully taps my behind, I'm annoyed with the gesture. "Why do you have to be such a guy? Why can't you just be romantic this one time!," I say in a tone dripping with disdain. So he embraces me, and tries to kiss me, to which I roll my eyes and push him away saying "You're just doing it because I said something." So he waits awhile. Then he tries again while I'm cooking dinner. And While I used to love the sweet interruptions, today, there's a ticking time bomb laying in the swing in the living room... and if dinner isn't cooked by the time she wakes up, we won't eat dinner until 10 o'clock. So I swat him away again, annoyed by his timing, yet still thankful that he tried. It's an uphill battle for Cody. I need the affirmation that he still wants me, even though I'm covered in spit up and Ella's slobber, but on the days that I feel bad about myself, I don't have any interest in letting Cody see the scar from delivery, or the stretch marks from the pregnancy... because my hormonal brain convinces me that he'll somehow be repulsed by the sight of me after all of this time. What kind of silliness is that? Though I go to bed with good intentions to get up the next morning and put a little make up on after my shower, most days, I get caught up in trying to keep up with the messes in the house, feeding my infant, and keeping her content. By three o'clock, it kind of becomes a "What's the point!" situation regarding make up, and "I guess I'll just shower when Cody comes home" regarding the leg hair blowing in breeze. I would like to clarify that hygiene still stands in this house; I do brush my teeth, and I don't stink. Things haven't got that bad around here yet. But it's very easy to get wrapped up in the mindset that you're about as appealing as an ogre, and someday, when you're not so tired, you'll start working out and wearing make up again. On the sacrificial side of it, I find myself not caring so much about what I look like when my baby grins at me. I live everyday of my life bettering hers, and even though she's exhausting, she's worth every minute of it all. I know her days of cradling in my arms are limited, and I'm not about to waste them feeling sorry for myself. Basically, I'm a hot mess of contradictions, and things get substantially better when I shave my legs. 

Kaylea, if things are so bad around your house right now, how do you have the time to blog?

Well, that's a good question, judgmental stranger. At the moment, Ella is having a moment to herself in the swing. I wouldn't say she's happy about it, but she's not screaming either. She's under strict instructions to lay her burdens at the feet of Jesus, because Mommy is going to lose her mind soon if we can't learn how to co-exist under this roof. I've considered chugging a glass (or bottle) of wine, but unfortunately, I'm breastfeeding, and that's just not an option for me right now... So I had to lay a few things out there for the pregnant moms, the new moms, and the veteran moms to laugh and relate to. The veteran moms are slapping their knees and saying "Just wait until Ella starts teething!" The new moms are sighing with relief that somebody else is fighting the same fight. The pregnant moms are either scoffing and thinking "My baby is never going to annoy me so badly that I let it cry in the swing. It's just a baby, it can't help it!" (To which I smirk, because they'll see in their own time) OR they rubbing their bellies and being okay with the fact that they still have a few weeks before reality hits. The single friends in my life are raising their glasses of wine up to the monitor and saying "this one's for you, Kaylea!" and the married friends are saying "Yeah, kids can wait." 

Kaylea, if something is really so wrong with Ella, why haven't you called the doctor?

Well, judgmental stranger. The answer is simple. I don't know what to tell a doctor. She doesn't have fever, has no obvious symptoms of illness, and is using the bathroom frequently. I spoke to my doctor's nurse today, and she's told me what to watch for. I sincerely believe my child exhausted herself this weekend and we're paying for it now that she's home. Basically, I'm not leaving town again until she's eighteen and I'm not affected by whether or not she sleeps. 

Kaylea, You're a really good Mom. I feel like you need to hear that.

Thanks. I'm giving it everything I've got. 

I just wanted to clear up a few of those questions that I knew people were thinking. My daughter is 9 weeks old, and I've heard more opinions than I ever thought I would. I've heard all about why breastfeeding exclusively is the wrong choice, why we shouldn't have taken our daughter on a road trip, why I shouldn't vaccinate her, why I shouldn't consume caffeine, and why it's important that I enroll her in some sort of daycare to prevent her from becoming a hermit. To all of those opinions, I smile. And I file them in my "Whatever" folder, and I drink my coffee. I think the most important information I can convey to ANY mom is that you are the best thing for your child. Motherhood is a heavy load, and sometimes I really hate the responsibility that comes with it. Everyday of Ella's life involves a Mama that cries out to the Lord for wisdom because she's so terrified of messing up, and a Jesus that probably smiles because he has every minute of Ella's life figured out. I'm merely here to provide calories and shelter. And cuddles. And kisses. But those are just bonuses to this gig. It's so, so hard. And sometimes I wonder what in the world I was thinking when I told Cody we were ready for this. Sometimes I miss crawling into bed with my husband and going to sleep in his arms. Some days, I just want to go to Target and spend every dime of our money on clothes that make me feel attractive. But those are the little things that I won't remember when she's grown. I'll remember talking to her at 5:30 in the morning when she's so ready to wake up and play with me. I'll remember watching her grin at Cody when he comes home because they're so excited to see each other. I'll remember the look on her face the first time I sneezed without trying to stifle it. And I'll smile. The petty things are the things that I can deal with, because raising Ella is so much better than life before her. I'm in love with my husband, and my husband is absolutely crazy about me. Our lives revolve around a baby that has captivated our hearts, and absolutely mad about her. We're a family that relies heavily on Jesus, and we need grace every day of our lives... but what a sweet life it is. 

And maybe, just maybe, that makes the bad days better.

Ella Morgan: Month Two

What a quick, quick month it was!

I don't want to say that I can't believe Ella is already two months old, because I can. I have the laundry piles to prove it. I couldn't begin to count the diapers we went through. I have over one hundred ounces of breast milk sitting in the freezer, because I have a never ending supply and I have to pump everyday so that I don't drown my baby while she eats. I have a brand new pile of clothes that are marked "3 months" because our newborn onesies are too tiny for our sweet baby. Nobody could have prepared me for the sting that accompanies putting those tiny onesies in a box. It ripped me to shreds, y'all. Anyway, before I spiral downward again, I should continue my previous thought. I'm watching the garden outside die because it made it through the life cycle, and that always lets me know that cooler temps are on the horizon. All of the signs are there to show that our baby is 2 months old, but looking at her is when things don't feel real.

Ella stretches all the way across my upper body when I hold her, which isn't saying much considering that I am remarkably short; but to consider that she used to fit perfectly on my chest, it's a little strange. When I feed her, I look for things to support my arms, because even though she's only about 12 pounds, my arms feel like they're breaking about half-way through a feeding. This baby has the sweetest grin, and she's so responsive to our voices. Even when we aren't speaking to her in a typical shrieky voice that accompanies speaking to babies, she'll turn her head and look for us if she hears one of us speak. There are dimples on her cheeks, but there are even cuter dimples on the back of her thighs. I tell her daily to live it up, because this is the only time people will think that those dimples are adorable. She's able to eat without my help, which is one of my greatest victories as a Mother, because it means that I can at least read my book while she spends 45 minutes eating at night. She has the biggest eyes I've seen on such a tiny face, and they're just the darkest shade of blue. For a little while, it looked like they were going to kind of "starburst," and be light around the pupil, but dark around the edges. Nope. They've changed into one solid color of blue, and in the right light, they almost have a purple hue to them. I've never seen such interesting eyes. Her fat rolls are the most kissable things, and it always makes me smile to see how far we've come in the two months that she's been around. They change right in front of your eyes, and most of the time, you kind of look at them and think "What have I been doing?" I'm thankful to be aware of the changes in her already, but I would also be okay with her staying this tiny for a little while. She's such a sweet cuddly baby.

Ella went to church for the first time when she was six weeks old. I didn't put her in a frilly dress, but she certainly looked adorable. I opted out of putting her in the nursery, partially because I knew I wouldn't focus for the message and partially because I feel like she can wait awhile longer. Fortunately, I found out she will be with Sheri (one of the only people I would comfortably leave my child with) until she starts crawling, SO I guess my goal will be to push her down until she's 5 so that she can't leave Sheri's care. Anyways, Ella went to church with Mama and She slept the entire time we were there. I will admit unashamedly that I was a nervous wreck when we were in the public eye after service. People I've never seen before in my life came up to me and asked to hold my daughter... to which I had to politely say that she was fussy (she wasn't) and that it was probably best if she stayed in her stroller. It was difficult to remain polite when everything in my head said "No, freak! I don't even know you!" I cringed whenever somebody rubbed their hands all over her head. I had to resist the impulse to swat hands away whenever they grabbed hers. Here's a little bit of advice for those of you meeting an infant for the first time: Don't touch skin. I know Ella is a sweet baby, and I know she has a full head of hair. Don't touch it. If you MUST touch my child, touch her tummy, which is covered by her onesie. Don't grab her hands. She puts her fist in her mouth ALL the time. That's super gross. I brought her home and scrubbed her down in the bath, and I had to remind myself that I can't keep her in the bubble of our home forever. In the meantime, I've grown quite efficient at slamming the carseat/stroller combo shut whenever I see a creeper approaching. I'm excellent at saying "No" when someone that I don't want to hold her asks to hold her. I'm sure I'm gaining the reputation of an overprotective new mom, but I would rather be that mom than the mom that feels nauseated at the thought of strangers and their gross hands. I'm sorry if you become victim to my blunt responses... it's not you, it's your hands... So I guess it might be you a little bit.

My baby has always been a fantastic sleeper, but she's pretty much established a consistent routine. She gets put in a cradle beside my bed at 11:30. She then sleeps until about 5:45 before she wakes up to eat. She eats until about 6:20, and then she stays in bed with me until she wakes up again about 9:30. From there, she eats again and then goes back in her cradle, where she sleeps until around 11:30 A.M. Some days she sleeps from Midnight to 6:30, Some days she sleeps from Midnight to 4:30. Sometimes we have a really bad night and she's awake every 2 hours. Most days, she sleeps for most of the night, and I love her more than words for it. I love my cuddles with her, and even though I know it isn't the greatest habit to form, she really doesn't mind sleeping in her cradle. We're raising a belly sleeper, and as long as she's on her stomach, she'll sleep her life away. I've grown to shrug off the naysayers and the pessimistic words that I hear come out of people's mouths. Ella's life belongs to the Lord, and I believe with my entire soul that she'll be just fine sleeping on her stomach. I sleep comfortably and deeply at night, and it's helped my body heal SO quickly. It's a wonderful thing not to feel like a crazy.

One of the questions I've been asked most frequently is whether or not I like being at home. The answer is yes, I love it. I love feeling like I'm right in the middle of my element. I've lived my entire life waiting and preparing to be a mother, and now that I'm here, it feels as wonderful as I always hoped it would. I love planning dinner menus, and having the time to coordinate what meals have the same ingredients, so that food is used efficiently and budget friendly. I can buy 10 days worth of food for about $120.00, and I eat leftovers for lunch every day. When I was working and just cooking what sounded good, we were spending at least $175.00 at the grocery store PLUS eating out frequently because I was always so worn out, PLUS I ate out for lunch every day. Our budget is so much friendlier with me being home. I love searching for recipes, finding ways to sneak vegetables that Cody claims he doesn't eat, and having the energy to "plate" the food creatively. The smallest details of cooking bring me the greatest amounts of pleasure, and I'm thankful for my simple little life. Some days are hard, especially when Ella is in a growth spurt and I feel like a dairy cow trapped in the recliner feeding her. Some days are lonely. Some days I don't get a single thing done because I'm just worn out from raising a newborn. I try to make to-do lists daily, with a reasonable amount of tasks to check off... because who doesn't feel a little sense of accomplishment when you can actually check something off of your to-do list? Some times the list sits ignored, and other times I get the list plus additional tasks done. It all depends on how badly my baby needs her Mama that day. My parents are really wonderful about calling us for lunch dates, so we get out of the house a few times a week. As I said before, I plan the grocery list 10 days at a time so that I can get out of the house and be alone for an hour or two every now and then. I wouldn't say that I enjoy the grocery store as my alone time, but it's nice to have an opportunity to miss Ella. Most of the time, we're together 24/7, so it's good for both of us to get a break. It's also important to me that Cody and Ella have time alone together. I'm sure it can be hard for him to feel like the Dad when I'm staring over his shoulder all of the time. I want them to be comfortable without me around. It's never too early for Daddy/Daughter dates.

For the most part, we have a dream baby. She's incredibly laid back, and has the sweetest grin in the world. She does have a few allergy issues, and often wakes up with a stuffy nose. God bless the nasal aspirator we took from the hospital. She absolutely hates getting her nose cleaned, as it's one of the few times she throws fits. She has two stubborn tear ducts that are still clogged, but the doctor assures me they'll open soon. I have definitely noticed less of the gunk in her eyes, so I'm praying it won't be long. She very rarely has stomach issues, but when she does, we give her 1/4 teaspoon of gripe water. It calms her almost immediately. I recommend it to any new parent. I used to be super judgmental about giving babies things for gas and such, but it only took one night of being up all night listening to her scream in pain before I changed my tune. I'm so thankful she skipped the colic train. Bless all of you that had to fight it.

At the moment, Ella is giving every effort in the world to hold her head up. She does remarkably well, and only wobbles if we move and she tries to follow us. She loves sitting in her bumbo chair, though it makes me a little sad to look over and see her looking so much like an infant instead of a newborn. She's gaining weight so fast, and it's taking me longer and longer to scrub between the rolls during bath time... but it's so adorable I can hardly stand it. Ella can't stand to be alone. She doesn't necessarily care if she's being held, but she wants to see me and she wants to hear me. This makes getting things done especially difficult sometimes. She spends a lot of time in the baby carrier during the day, because otherwise I spend the entire day watching the tv with Ella sitting in the bumbo beside me. I love having a baby that's awake for the majority of the day, but I have to clean like a mad woman when she naps. It's a fun part of being a stay at home mom. You kind of begin to base your life around when the baby sleeps. And on days that she doesn't sleep, the house stays in disarray. I used to really stress about it, because I hated that Cody worked all day and then came home to a house that looks like a baby department store threw up inside. But I had to get over that. Raising Ella is the priority, and right now she demands a lot of effort, and so much time. Sometimes I miss the check that proved that I was contributing to our family's well being, but I can't imagine leaving this sweet little world to go back into a paying job. I'll spend the next few years of my life sacrificing a little bit of the glitter that came with extra money if it means raising a baby with a heart of gold. I know that's super corny, and I'm sorry that you had to read it, but it's my heart's cry that Ella know a world of manners, visiting a library, and spending her days at her home. I want her to know food outside of macaroni and lunchables, and even if we have to fight it out everyday, she'll have an eclectic food palate. She'll sing Disney songs and play baby dolls in the living room floor, and if we're lucky, she'll find joy in getting lost in a book. I know there are so many expectations, and it's okay if she doesn't meet all of them, but I know she'll be thankful when she looks back and sees how much of my life I invested into hers when she has a baby of her own. I know I'm thankful everyday that my mom fought through the mundane of motherhood when she chose to stay home and watch us destroy the living room she had just cleaned.

The last exciting piece of information for this month is that the Gaines family survived our first road trip. We have so many family members (even family in this town) that still haven't met our sweet baby. We're trying to remedy that, so we took labor day weekend to shoot up to Wheeler so that Ella could meet some of Cody's family. It's a wondrous thing that Ella has so many people that are so excited to love her. My favorite part of the trip was watching Ella meet her great-grandfather, Pops. Cody has been bursting at the seams to let him meet this baby, and so it was a joy to watch him interact with her. I was prepared for Cody's mom's side of the family to ooh and ahh and rejoice over Ella's tiny face, but the last thing I expected was to see Pops' heart melt when he saw her. They spent so much time together, and Ella kicked and grinned every time he gave her the slightest bit of attention. He even volunteered to babysit while Cody and I grabbed lunch. I loved our time in Wheeler, and it was so special to see Ella with so many family members. She was even blessed enough to meet her GREAT GREAT grandparentS. That was two greats and a plural. Yes. Cody's Maternal Great Grandparents, Ray and Mae (is that not adorable?) are both still alive and kicking. They've been married for 76 years this week, and they're still absolutely mad about each other today. Grandma battles Alzheimer's, and it's in a very advanced stage, so I was prepared for her not to acknowledge Ella at all. We let Grandpa hold Ella for awhile (seriously, the man is almost 100 years old and still sharp as a nail), and before any of us could stop him, he put Ella in Grandma's arms. I cringed, and I saw Cody's mom prepare to snatch Ella away... but just then, Ella let out a little whimper... and Grandma came to life. She started bouncing Ella , patting her on the bottom, and kissing her hand. I don't know that there wasn't a soul in the room that wasn't touched by the sweetness of the moment, and I'll cherish the memory always.  

That's it! Our lives are full of love, drowning in sweetness, and covered in grace. I'm so thankful everyday that the Lord saw us fit to raise such a wonderful little life. Here's her Socktopus picture, and we'll see ya next month!