The Princess & the Pee

This article was originally posted on TheBLT, where I'm a guest columnist.

My princess certainly doesn't need anyone to save her—maybe not even me.

If my almost-two-year-old daughter could talk, I think she would've already taught herself to read and write. If she could write, I think she'd be running a blog dedicated to educating the toddlers of the world on the best ways to gain independence. If she could read, I'd be leaving her notes around the house, reminding her that she is, in fact, a toddler, and not the grown-up she seems to believe she is.

This article is truer now than it was when I wrote it almost two months ago. Fortunately for me, I'm about to have another baby. Otherwise, I think I'd be rendered useless in this gig I have as Maya's mom. Are they supposed to grow up this fast? I mean, they say kids grow up quickly. But they don't tell you how quickly babies grow up!

The bottom line is that I'm not even needed anymore, basically. She keeps me around to write her memoirs and drive her everywhere. Maya, if you're reading this, remember me and all the diapers I changed when you're running your own business at six years old.

Read the article in its entirety here.

April & May in Moments

 

My Strong-Willed Child Isn't Scary (Anymore)

This article was originally posted on TheBLT, where I'm a guest columnist.

If you've met Maya, or if you've read anything about her on my blog, you know she's been strong-willed from day one. Literal day one, her first day on earth as a social security card-carrying human being. This, especially to a person with no children, was terrifying. Okay, it wasn't terrifying, but nearly. My first reaction was a mixture of fear and pride. Pride, because I figured she was more likely to achieve her own goals throughout life. Fear, because that pretty much blows all of my parenting knowledge out of the water. Fear, because her being more likely to achieve her goals might mean I have to lose a few more battles than I initially thought. Fear, because I assume most of her childhood would be one big power struggle between us.

Maybe God knew what He was doing when He made my first child "spirited". (God? Having a plan? Bahahahaha! Good one.) I think we can all agree that parenting can be terrifying no matter how you look at it. Every child needs direction, "spirited" or otherwise. When you think about it further—which, of course, I do—it might actually be easier to have a child that is self-propelled. Maybe not easier for everyone, but certainly for some, including myself.

I'm certain that one day, I'll exclaim to the heavens, demanding to know what I did to deserve such cruel punishment. But maybe I won't! Maybe, I'll remember these times and bite my tongue, and instead thank God for giving me at least one child that will live deliberately.

Read the article in its entirety here.

A Moment of Peace

...Which I ruin, of course, with all this thinking.

A day of constant setbacks and interruptions has ultimately led me to where I am now: in my bed at 5:06pm next to a (finally) sleeping toddler and feeling the strong kicks and somersaults of a very awake bump-baby. I have a load of dishes to do, and clean laundry covers the living room furniture, but I'm not jumping up to go anywhere just yet.

I'll get up soon and be mamamaid (which is kinda like a mermaid but not nearly as gorgeous or glamorous or graceful), but I was taken out of my zone by a sudden moment of peacefulness. Peace is rare these days. (Or is it? I don't know. I haven't had much time to stop and think about it.) I don't want to miss a valuable moment, even if it risks me falling asleep and accomplishing nothing. (Because I'm so tired, guys. I think prego-bod is starting to get to me. My brain is all crazy, my body hurts, my abs are borderline useless now. I need bath bombs and delicious food and to sleep in just once.)

1000 parentheses later & I eventually get back to my point. (Which was...?)

Those who know her best would argue that there is no such thing as peace when Maya is around, and I wouldn't disagree. But baby boy is around, too. Maya is a little too young to know he's here, but he still has his own energy, already. I've started to realize that calm isn't the absence of energy, it's a force all its own.

...Thank God, amirite? Between Maya and me, we have an imbalance in our house. Justin and I balance each other out; Maya tipped the scales. OBVIOUSLY the logical thing to do is bring in another kid and pray to the Good Lord that he's like Justin. So far, observation of the guests at Hotel Reghan would indicate that he is nothing like Maya at all. She explored every inch of this uterus and slept only when absolutely necessary. He tends to chill at the top and stretches and plays, eh, whenever he feels like it. I just knew Maya was gonna be an energetic ball of sunshine. Not to get all hippie on you, but I'm feeling more of a moon vibe from this guy.

Regardless, he'll be his own person just as Maya is her own. I'll do the mom thing like I'm supposed to. I'll hold up my end of the deal and feed him and love him and stuff. However, this time around, I have a few demands in return. I didn't make any demands with Maya at all prior to her birth, and that seems to have been a huge mistake. I may have been naïve then, but I'm no dummy now. Baby #2 is unfortunate in that way, but he actually has it better, I'd say. He restores a balance in energy in our house, and I provide him with a higher level of expertise in caring for babies. Easy peasy.

At the very least, I just need him to distract her. I'm tired of having to undo Maya's rearrangement of the fridge every time I do the dishes, and I already really hate doing the dishes.

But I'll settle for a moment like this every now and then, when it's just me, my two babies, and a little bit of peace.

How My Daughter is Like Me & Not Like Me

This article was originally posted in November 2015 on TheBLT, where I'm a guest columnist.

Last fall, shortly after Maya's first birthday, I wrote an article about the ways she is similar to me but still very much her own person.

"She's like Stitch," my sister says, referring to the rambunctious cartoon alien who causes much chaos with little effort. (Stitch has four arms but Maya only needs two.) She is quite the whirlwind and always has been. She was the most active baby ever in utero, and I remember the days when she was still very new and would kick her legs all around as if it were impossible for her to stop moving. I would spend so much time just looking at her, staring at her face, memorizing it. It's a good thing, too, because getting a good look these days is hard with all the moving, talking, screaming, laughing, and running."

We initially thought she was leaning more like Justin in personality. While she is very much like him, she's not a perfect fit for either of us. Obviously, since she isn't either of us - she's both. A mixture of us and the ones before us, she is not a copy of anyone else.

Maybe I'll end up with a daughter who's just like me, but better. Better, obviously, because isn't that what kids are for? We make brand new versions of ourselves, a Reghan 2.0, so we can hopefully be saved in their perfection. We give up our whole selves so they can be the best they can be. 

I'm bringing up this post again because it is still so true. Sometimes, the similarities between Maya and me or Justin (or a grandparent) are uncanny. But, with every day that passes, it gets harder and harder to see others in her because she is so much like... well, herself. Every parent wants their kids to be better than we are; not to share our struggles, but to give them tools to help others struggle less.

Read the article in its entirety here.

Hey there.

I'M BACK!

This would be a lot better if I had announced my leaving. I mean, I didn't leave... I just went off the blogging grid for a while. Accidentally.

I won't go too deep into anything, but in the interest of full disclosure, life and depression got to happening. As it turns out, being pregnant and not fully over postpartum depression from the last baby is not the best mix. (Does a person ever get "cured" from depression of any kind? I don't think so.) Add in regular life stress and you've got a recipe for an absent blogger.

Currently, Maya is a year and a half old (19 months) and the little nugget is nearly halfway done cooking (19 weeks). All-day nausea is gone now and I think I really should be getting about 14 hours of sleep per night. I'm trying to make myself more ambitious because it hit me yesterday that I'm halfway to having two - TWO!!! - kids under my care. Maya is in the process of transitioning to her own bed, to my disappointment, but they've gotta grow up eventually, right? She's also in the stage of pre-potty training, which basically just means she's much more aware of what is going on, and we're familiarizing her with the potty. I doubt she'll be out of diapers when the baby is born, but that's okay, developmentally. I'm not really in the business of rushing things, am I?

Obviously, this pregnancy has flown by. Maya is what they would call a spirited child, which I'm sure I'll dive into later on here, and that has kept me quite... distracted? Busy? On the brink of insanity?

Easter was very fun this year. With a few exceptions, I've spent nearly every Easter of my life at my grandparents' house. They've got a lot going on this year, so thankfully, all of us were able to put it together. We colored eggs, made some delicious deviled eggs, hid some plastic ones for Maya to find, and had a great lunch. I also became aware that I've transitioned from pudge to bump, which was equally exciting and scary.

Justin's Frankeggstein

Four.

​The problem with blogging is that you get pregnant and don't know what to write about when your days are full of the very information you're sitting on.

Yes, you read that right: WE'RE GONNA HAVE A BABY!

Another baby, that is. Maya Blue is gonna be a big sister! That's weird. It's right but it's surreal. My first, beautiful, tiny little infant is now a toddler and no longer the youngest or smallest member of our family. I'm old. Am I old? I think I'm old now.

I don't even have to say that we're happy. If you've read ANYTHING I've ever written before now, you're probably glad it's finally happening and we can all move onto the next thing in life. Waiting to post this news on the internet is the worst. What am I supposed to say? "Hey guys, today was totally normal and nothing different or new is going on, EXCEPT THAT WE'RE A FAMILY OF FOUR NOW."

Hi.

I am so bad at blogging regularly. I have got to work on that. Seriously.

SO MUCH CRAZINESS lately. The last couple of months have easily been the busiest of the whole year. Maybe the most stressful, maybe the most enlightening... I don't know. The year is almost over and I am so done with it. This year was good for Adele, and that's basically it. All the celebrity couples broke up, we had exactly one summer anthem song, and I am still not rich. I'm not bitter about 2015, but I'm not gonna sit here and dwell on it. (Well, yeah, I will, but later.)

If you're here through social media, then you probably already know my biggest news of all - I'M OFFICIALLY FREELANCE!!! I am a guest columnist on TheBLT. I still can't believe that people are paying for my writing. I'm basically writing the same things I write here, just with deadlines and, you know... consistency. I've had three articles published so far. I initially intended to post them here as they were published, but then life happened. So, I'll start doing that on the next article. No big deal.

Here's some photos of life while I've been away. Luckily, I have such a minuscule following that I can drop off for two months and not take any crap for it. Maya is cuter and smarter and older than ever, by the way.

September in Moments