But...Your Kids

"But you feed your kids chicken and dairy, right?"
-Literally every person that's just found out that I don't drink cow milk or eat meat.

In all honesty, up until very recently, I have always answered, "Yes, of course."
Why? Well, because it's true, and it usually satisfies their questioning and sets them back in their comfortable reality after being slightly shook for a second.

However, more and more I'm beginning to question that stance. More and more I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable and even phony about it. 

Why am I feeding my kids products that I personally don't consume anymore? Why am I making a decision for them without their full understanding and consent? Why is it okay to buy and feed those products I am against on many levels to my kids, but not okay to feed them what I eat?
Why do we keep the truth from our kids?
I suppose it's on the same plane as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.

Despite constant debate, there really IS NO argument FOR meat and dairy. There is nothing in them that we can't get anywhere else. Their protein, calcium, vitamins and iron ALL originally come from the PLANTS they consume. Even the B12 that most meat eaters claim as their reasoning, is originally plant based and because of the way we grow and treat so many plants, it's not near as concentrated as it should/could be. Regardless, the only reason B12 is in meats at all is because the animals were pumped with medications, and modified feed with added B12. So B12 should be supplemented REGARDLESS of your diet. Meat is NOT a multivitamin.

Now that THAT is out of the way, I can get to my main point.
There is NO reason that my kids can't eat the way I eat. They already like their veggies and they trust and even enjoy my cooking [for the most part haha]. There are SO many options that are delicious, balanced and animal free, it is NOT like it used to be. As a mom, I have really no excuse not to try to expose my kids to alternative diet options. My kids are thriving, they have no allergies, they get regular check ups [and yes, are vaccinated]. I have tried enough and looked into enough that I am officially accepting the challenge to feed my kids a balanced plant based and delicious diet. We're not cavemen with no other option. We are in a fantastic plant based era that is constantly giving us new and even better alternatives. There are [and have been] amazing humans that have lived lives proving that meat and dairy is not only unnecessary but limiting and backwards. There are even fad diets claiming to fight cancer and heal chronic illnesses and guess what, they are ALL plant based.

So the question is NOT "can my kids thrive on a plant based diet?"
The question IS "what is stopping me from helping them thrive?"

I WISH my mother would have at least showed me there were other options. I WISH she would have been honest with me sooner about where my food comes from. I certainly don't BLAME her one bit. She was doing the best she knew how. Both my parents still showed compassion and empathy for wildlife and all of "God's creatures."

But when I'm no longer ignorant to the truth, why would I lead my kids blindly toward a direction I no longer believe in? At this point, if/when they make a decision to keep a plant based diet, they would honestly have every reason to blame me for any regrets they may have. Because the truth is, I AM in control. I DO know better. And above all else, I LOVE MY KIDS. Despite my many faults, I do my best to stay honest with them about everything. They know where their Christmas gifts really come from, they are told exactly why I get frustrated and exactly why I want them to do and act certain ways at certain times. I make it a point to NEVER claim "because I said so" or "because I'm mommy" because I know they are more understanding and capable than anyone gives them credit for. I want them to trust me. But trust is not trained, pounded in or lectured. Trust is EARNED.

And I take their trust very seriously.


What A Fine Life

I realize it's been quite a while since I promised family photos. Sorry.
Although, we all know my excuse[s].

That being said, I have been struggling to find something both appropriate and relevant to write about, which is really why there has been such a gap in posts. Don't get me wrong, I have many subjects worth sharing my opinion and experiences on. No doubt.

More important than that, though, is the fact that Roran, my second and babiest baby...
Turned ONE YEAR OLD on the first of the month. Already. I know. He was just born yesterday, I swear.

So will this post be a letter to my about-to-not-be-a-baby-anymore baby, a recap of life, vacation and current events, or another rambling about a side of parenting I'm just now learning about?
To be honest, while typing this out....I still don't really know. So I guess we'll just have to find out.

I actually feel incredibly guilty that I don't think I have enough to say in a full sized letter to Roran about his first year and existence in general. I feel like I have so much more to say for Jaxon. I suppose that is mainly because Jaxon used to be my one and only so he was all I had to write and think about.
That's not to say I have nothing to say about my littlest duckling and all his quirks and traits, though his dimples alone could pretty much say it all.
It's just that I couldn't really say much at all without mentioning his big brother. These two are already the best of friends and mortal enemies all at once, and Roran can't even talk yet.

I could say a million things about them together or separately, about being a mom of two, about raising boys and about the hopes I have for them [and me, as their mom].
But I'm honestly overwhelmed by it all. I adore every minute. I wouldn't change a thing, except maybe our living situation, but that will come soon enough. I will keep saying it, regardless of who's will is behind it, I believe everything in my life happens for a very important, specific reason, even if it takes years to realize it.
All I know is my boys are as imperfectly perfect as their 'rents are, and I can't imagine life without them consuming it.

Every day I learn something new about life, motherhood and my sons.
During our trip to Nags Head, NC, I learned that Jaxon is restless but incredibly cautious, just like me. I also learned that he is confident, social and independent just like his father.
I learned that Roran is both a massive lover and volatile fighter.
I learned the importance of forcing myself to let things go and how to allow myself to relax.
I also was reminded of the definition of gratitude and art of consideration.

Roran had a small birthday part at our tiny apartment and even though it turned out great and basically exactly the way I expected, I really hope he doesn't feel neglected when I finally collect and display the few good photos taken and memories made that day. I consumed and stretched myself farther than I thought I would for just a small get together with family and close friends. I feel like I failed, honestly. But you know me and my guilt. It doesn't take much.
He had a blast, of course. He always does.

As for the present and future, I'm trying to savor every bit of summer I have before it goes as fast as my babies' first years. I'm trying to cherish every moment with them, the good, the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. I'm trying to both push myself and treat myself in every way so that I stay sharp. Because with boys like mine, Lord knows I'll need all the mental, physical and spiritual help I can manage.


[photos taken by my lovely SIL, Lindsey]


More Like a Candle Box

I'm about to get a tad personal. Probably too personal, in all honesty.

So let me start right off with a little disclaimer:
I am aware how the internet works. I am aware of the full definition of "PUBLIC". I fully understand and even fully support the variety and diversity of beliefs and views outside of my own.
I would never claim to know everything there is to know about anything there is to know, so I am in NO WAY saying that my personal beliefs are the be all, end all, ONLY way to live.
However, I have very good reasons, based on experience, to see things the way I do and because of that, I'm pretty sure if everyone else WAS to believe what I do, the world would be WAAAAYYYY less hostile, destructive and evil. Just throwing that out there. You know, as a theory.

Whew! Okay, that's out of the way. Good.

First things first, I believe Jesus was a real person. I believe in a creator of all life and existence and light. I believe in purpose, not accidents, as far as value of life goes. I believe in the life examples and teachings of Jesus and I believe in the significance and existence of the Holy Spirit.
That being said, I also believe in Nature and the power and balance of the Universe/Cosmos. I believe that true peace is only found through a perfect balance, and that conflict, confusion and pain are a direct consequence of imbalance. I'm not talking about tip toeing, living a luke warm, grey life or any kind of apathy. Apathy does not equal balance or lack of imbalance. Apathy seems safe, but is actually incredibly destructive.
Now to attempt to be a bit more clear, when I say I believe in a creator, and the Holy Spirit, I don't necessarily mean in the EXACT biblical sense. What I mean by THAT, is I don't believe in HUMANIZING a supernatural, omnipotent being the exact way the Bible does. So, in other words, I recognize the Holy Spirit in all forms, including sensing/seeing auras, judging character based on "gut feelings", connecting with the spiritual world as a medium, or even "mother's intuition." It's ALL the "Holy Spirit" to me. It's what gives us clarity, discernment, revelation, translation, which is why I believe in the importance of it/him/her/them. I fully believe in a spiritual, supernatural, physically invisible plane that we live among, but not always in (kinda like alternate dimensions and timelines portrayed in comics and movies, if you're confused). I believe some of us are more sensitive to it and aware of it than others and I believe that, as humans, it is impossible to fully comprehend it all, and to picture God as this human looking, emotional, relational (in the human sense), sort of being, is a little....belittling, honestly. At least to me. Even if He is all powerful (which I have no reason to believe He isn't), He has pretty much relinquished all control to us. So where you stand with Him/Her/Them/It, is completely between you and Him/Her/Them/It. I believe that humans are imperfect and flawed from the start, which is why I believe life is about growth and improvement.
THAT is why I cannot believe ANY book, ANY practice, ANY organized religion, or ANY human-touched ANYTHING 100%. Does that mean I think the Bible is crap? Absolutely not. Does that mean I think all religions are the same and lead to the same things? Nope. Does that mean I think going to church, praying, studying and listening to sermons are a waste of time? Of course not.
It means, I am OPEN. I am LEARNING. I WANT to learn. I WANT to grow. And it means I am FAR from knowing enough to close myself off completely to everything else.

Don't confuse my openness with ignorance, confusion or complacency. I am quite solid in my spiritual foundation and even more firm in my views and intentions. If you ask me how I feel about something particular, I will give you a straight, honest answer (most of the time, unless it's a loaded question in which case, you literally asked for it so prepare yourself).

Do I think you are an idiot if you faithfully attend church, or think God is dead? No, not for those reasons ;)
I'm kidding. I only think animal abusers, child abusers, anyone who thinks harming anyone for selfish reasons is okay, anyone who is too set in their ways and refuses to change even after they are shown a better/healthier/loving/less harmful way, anyone who judges/harms/hates based on shallow factors like gender, race, age, etc, anyone who blindly claims climate change is a complete hoax and fossil fuels, animals and slave labor are God's gifts to us to exploit, and anyone who leaves their shopping cart in the parking lot are complete idiots.

And even then, I would never harm, insult or choke you with my "counter" beliefs, even if I did have the energy.

I believe in LOVE, HARMONY and BALANCE. And living in a way that tries to achieve that without harming anyone in the process, all while understanding that it is a process, and that I will fail more often than succeed, which is all part of said process.

Yes, I am that tree hugging, animal loving, snowflake shaped hippie.
Even if you eat meat.
Even if you drink milk or eat cheese.
Even if you hunt.
Even if you don't recycle.
Even if you drive a diesel guzzling, smoke spewing, confederate flag boasting, ear deafening, lifted and "suped up" monster of a truck.
(Which seems oddly specific, but around here, it's actually not. At all.)
Even if you bought your dog from a pet store.
Even if you spank your kid (though I recommend trying a hug and calm voice next time, just to rule it out)
Even if you believe in multiple Gods.
Even if you believe in only one God
Even if you don't believe in any God.
Even if you're a Republican.
Even if you're a Democrat.
Even if you're neither.
Even if you voted for Trump.
Well....yeah even then.

We're not robots. We're human. We feel. We think. We learn. We change. We grow. We try. We really, really try. Through all the blood, sweat, tears, urges and emotions, we try.
And with great humanity, comes great responsibility.

And that's just how I see it.


Not Bad, for a Third Year

I knew I wouldn't be able to post the annual "Jaxon is a year older" post anywhere NEAR his birthday because I have a tendency to be overwhelmed by a pile of unfolded laundry. I also was waiting to be able to post the family photos we had taken on Easter. Still working on it.

But enough of the excuses.

Let me start by saying, he is ME through and through. Every day he proves it in new ways.
And I don't just mean because he loves pickles, lemons, punk rock and the Kratt brothers. I mean, he reacts the EXACT way I do when I see a cute animal, he is unfazed by peer pressure, he loves broccoli, old bay and sushi [obviously not together], he already has a witty sense of humor and shines when he's able to do things on his terms. Those are just things on the most basic of levels. There are mannerisms, looks in his eye, facial movements and attitude changes that are more than just learned. He is 100% my child.

Don't get me wrong, he is also 100% his father. But we'll save that for another time, for Daddy's sake ;)

I want to tell you a little more about this amazing, challenging, genius child of mine.
Jaxon knows all his colors, all his letters and can count to 20 with his dad. He knows different ways to tell you his food tastes good, what his plans are and exactly what he wants to eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner and what his favorite foods are from his favorite restaurants [Montezuma's, Buffalo Wild Wings, Saga and Dawg House]. He can completely dress himself, from socks and shoes to hat and sunglasses. He can quote and sing along to every catchy tune from Blue's Clues, Zaboomafoo, Veggie Tales and Octonauts. His favorite movies are The Iron Giant, Finding Dory, Zootopia, Cars and The Lion King. His imagination is unlimited and he loves to pretend to talk on the phone with his grandparents, his friends [Dylan and Rachel] and his cousins. He also loves to grab one of his lunch boxes [he calls them backpacks] and his toy keys and tell me he's off to either work or "AwMart" for juice and chicken and daipers. He loves telling me which way to turn when I'm driving [already the BIGGEST, most literal backseat driver to ever exist]. He absolutely LOVES to boss people around [he's still working on grasping the concept of consent and being polite when it comes to making friends ha] though he hates being told what to do himself [I'm sure we don't all know anyone like that...].

He also loves his baby brother and is becoming possibly the best big brother in the whole world. He tells me when baby is crying [just in case Roran's shrill screeches don't alert me] and will give him the nearest toy to try to soothe him, even if it's his own toy. I can't claim that he ALWAYS shares, but he does most of the time. He loves playing peek-a-boo, giving him his snacks and making funny faces at him to make him laugh. He asks me every time we pack up to leave somewhere if baby is coming too, to make sure we don't forget him, and tells me "baby's okay/sleeping" when I ask for his help when I'm driving if I can't see him through the mirrors. And when I ask him if baby Roran is his friend, he always says, "YEAH!"

Just because I've mentioned all the ways this kid blows my mind, certainly doesn't mean he is some superhuman cyborg child from an alternate timeline that never does anything wrong or never throws a fit. Just in case you were beginning to believe that. I gotta clear that up too, I guess.
He DEFINITELY throws fits. Loud fits. Painful fits. Angry, demonic fits. Unavoidable fits.

Ironically, he also hates when I remind him to stop and take a breath, even though he tells me to EVERY time he thinks I'm getting frustrated [I mean, he's usually spot on, but still...having a 3 year old tell you to chill is something I'm still working on reacting to properly].

Which brings me to a side note. ANY adult that you hear say "I would never let my kid throw a fit like that" or "they must be crappy parents if they can't control their kids" is either SINGLE, does NOT have children, FORGETS what raising a young child is like, or is flat out LYING. Because let's just make this very clear, once and for all...
EVERY child throws fits [some more/less than others, depending on the day]. EVERY child is learning what emotions and urges are all about. It DOES NOT MATTER what approach you take, your child WILL throw a fit in a public place, out of nowhere, at the most inappropriate time in the most inappropriate way and there is absolutely NO WAY to avoid it. 
The ONLY "secret" to raising a human is this: YOUR CHILDREN WILL LEARN BY YOUR EXAMPLE.
Spanking them, threatening them, intimidating them, out screaming them, WILL NOT teach them anything EXCEPT how to hit, threaten and intimidate others. If you want quiet, reasonable, polite and patient children, YOU must FIRST show them how quiet, reasonable, polite and patient YOU are.
And let me make you another promise.
It will show you just how loud, demanding, rude and impatient you didn't even know you were.
There is no such thing as "winning" at parenting. It is a learning and growing experience for you just as much as it is for them. You will fail but you will also learn how strong, smart and resilient you can be. And so will they. That is what makes parenting worth every insane, exhausting, tear inducing second.

Now back to my real point.

Jaxon is my favorite 3 year old in the entire universe. He makes every tear I've ever shed, every painful heartache I've ever felt, every beautiful and every ugly sight I've ever seen and every failure I've ever learned from worth it. He is my shining star and calming focus. He is my reminder that everything alive has a purpose, including me. He is my superhero and I still believe that I never truly existed before him. Raising him and being alive knowing him is like meeting my true and complete self for the first time, every day. I am aware how strange, exaggerated and borderline obsessed I sound, but I cannot make you understand any further just how much he has saved my broken, dark, anxiety riddled life and continues to make it bright, satisfying and whole.
Goodbye, Terrible Terrific-Two's.
Hello, Terrifying-but-even-more-Terrific-Three's.


Mirror Mirror

When I was about thirteen years old, I went grocery shopping with my mom. During that trip, I witnessed an exchange between a mother and child that has seared itself in my mind. The boy was no more than 3 years old. He was visibly tired and moody, crying and screaming, dragging his exhausted little feet behind his mom and her boyfriend/husband. His mom was probably close to my age now, possibly younger. She was trying to ignore him and probably just wanted to get what she needed and get out, since they didn't have a cart or basket with them. His crying was impossible to miss and hard to ignore. When he caught up to her, he stretched his arm out and began to call out, "mam-" when suddenly she spun around and pulled her arm back ready to swing full strength but faked him out. She didn't hit him, but the motion and threat of being hit made him spin and fall on his face and start crying harder. He was only a toddler, but he looked humiliated and terrified.

My heart still hurts for him, 13 years later. I'm not accusing anyone of anything. I'm not claiming to know anything about him, her or their life at home. But that flinch was learned. His fear was too, from experience. How dare he cry out of exhaustion. How dare he be moody and unable to control his emotions after 3 years of being on this earth. How dare he cause others in the store to judge her for not "controlling" her child.

I'm going to just say it.
I am not a fan of belts, paddles, spoons or even hand spanks. I am that mom.

But before your blood pressure spikes and you flex your fingers preparing for a keyboard battle, let me explain to you why I feel this way and what conclusion I've come to regarding it.

My brother and I are 4 years apart in age. We have always been polar opposites (except for about a year and a half during our teen years). I was generally quiet, obedient and tended to internalize everything. I was sensitive, gentle and more of a "thinker".
My brother, on the other hand, was hyper active, hands on and fearless. He demanded his way and let his emotions run rampant. He was angry. Always so angry.
He was also exactly like our mom.

When I was 8 years old, I did something I knew not to do, and my mom made my dad spank me with a massive wooden paddle. I wept the entire time. My dad said nothing and kept the same emotionless expression. I could tell his swings weren't the only thing being held back.
I was never spanked again. I'm not saying I never again misbehaved, but I was never punished with a paddle after that.

At the time, my brother was 4. He was still in diapers and had probably his 100th paddle by that same day. He laughed. My mom told my dad to pull his diaper down, but he didn't. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.

It wasn't long after that my parents did away with spankings altogether and "controlled" us in other ways. They learned that I just wanted their approval and to be like my dad. I was humiliated by any sort of correction. I was easily crushed. "Hyper-sensitive" I think they call it.
My brother required rewards and trophies. Instead of punishing him for doing wrong, they gave him "incentives" to do good. He still did plenty bad, like any kid, but he learned what to do to get what he really wanted. Like my mom.

I don't think a Psych 101 class is required to understand that children learn in different ways. There are endless factors that go into why we are the way we are. Some require learning hands-on, and are punished for not having the patience for reading from a book. Some retain everything read and told to them, and struggle to communicate through painting or other artsy crafty things. Some are great communicators and love performing, and still need a tutor for math and science.

I can already tell that Jax is more like me and Roran is very similar to my brother. They are only 2 years apart and are both male, but they are uniquely them. I don't want to fail them by creating this illusion that they are basically the same.

So what IS my plan?
I've said before that children, especially toddlers, are mirrors of us. They show us aspects of our personalities that we didn't even know really existed. We can sing the alphabet with them 10,000 times a day with them, but they'll remember a phrase your mother used to say when you were a kid that you HATE now. A phrase they heard maybe once that day.
I can tell Jaxon to say "thank you" and to share and be nice all day, every day, but if he doesn't see ME doing those things, he won't care to do any of them. And why should he?

Children learn by EXAMPLE. Jaxon doesn't just say please, thank you, and you're welcome. He says them just like I do. When he was first learning to talk in phrases and sentences, he said the things he heard us say the most, first. He gives me attitude in the EXACT form that I give him. He didn't start hitting me until I smacked his hand for getting into something. I'm not saying he never would have if I didn't hit him first, but it definitely triggered something new for him at that moment. I saw it in his eyes.

My oldest son will be 3 in May. I am still VERY new at this parenting thing.
But I refuse to believe that if I DON'T spank him, he'll become an ungrateful, selfish, manipulative menace to society by the time he reaches adulthood. I refuse to buy into the belief that spanking my own flesh and blood will ensure that he is respectful, obedient and trustworthy.
If respect is EARNED by others actions and examples when it comes to your adult relationships, then why do we demand it from someone who has only been around for a few short years, regardless of the amount of respect we've shown them? If we don't spank friends with a belt when they yell at us or share a secret you trusted them with because it's frowned upon and society considers that assault, then why do we cause physical harm to a younger human who has even less control of their emotions and urges? Because we think it teaches them about consequences? If that were true, then why don't we get spanked when we screw up? We get reprimanded, we get humiliated, we get fired, we get heartbroken, we get fined.

I get that adulthood is very different from childhood. Duh.
But aren't we as parents supposed to guide and prepare our children for adulthood?

Don't misunderstand me. Jaxon does things DAILY that make me want to smack the devil out of him. My mother's intensity and impulsiveness comes out in me more than I'd like to admit. There are things he does over and over and over and OVER again that I wonder if pulling his diaper down for a full handed slap wouldn't correct at least for the rest of the day. But I then remember my brother. I remember my mother's frustration and exhaustion. I remember her crying from him driving her to her wit's end. I remember her standing up and walking to her bedroom, mumbling something about him being possessed, leaving him there, continuing to slam the back of his head onto the floor, his face red as blood from screaming at the top of his lungs. I remember the tiniest irritations would throw her into a screaming frenzy herself, as we got older. My mother rarely spoke to us in a calm, "inside" level voice. Conversations with her almost always escalated quickly to hisses and growls and dramatic stare downs. If looks could kill, neither of us would have made it past 2.

So yeah, maybe I feel the need to go against my mother's extreme to an opposite one of my own.
Maybe I've read too many hippie mom articles. Maybe I'm just being my usual "hyper-sensitive" self and can't stomach my kids being in any sort of pain, especially inflicted by me.

All I know is I have SO much faith in my child. Jaxon is so smart. He is so gentle. He is so aware. He's fearless. He's sassy. He's clever. He's thoughtful. He's strong. When I cry or look sad, he asks me if I'm okay. He stops what he's doing out of nowhere to hug me. He points things out to me that I missed because everything is new to him and old to me. Things that I never expect him to see or even understand. Enough to prove to me that they are capable of SO much more than we think.

I explain everything I can to him. Everything. Even if I doubt he's listening or even able to comprehend what I'm saying. I talk to him about it anyway. He surprises me daily with his empathy and knowledge. He retains things I don't expect. So I just put it all out there and let him hold on to what he can. And he does.

I don't expect him to stop coloring on the walls because I asked him to nicely and explained to him why I don't want him to. I tried to make him clean it off and he still does it. That's because he's still a two year old. A HUMAN two year old.

I know ADULTS who still do the same annoying shit, no matter how may different ways I try to stop them. My son doesn't need to be taught how to be perfect. He needs to learn how to live with being imperfect.

If my kids grow up to be compassionate, logical, respectful, creative gentlemen, I will be ecstatic.
But first, I'M the one who needs to be compassionate, logical, respectful, creative and strong. I need to show them how it's done. Because they're going to learn from me whether I like it or not.

I want to smile when I look into my mirror.


A Lot Happens

I just thought about it for the first time a few days ago, but I've only been a mom for about 3 years.

I feel like it's been for a much larger chunk of my life. I guess because it's such a drastic change going from being newly single to starting a completely new and wonderful relationship with Joshua...
to staring in terror at the two little lines on the third pregnancy test used that night...
to somehow both surviving pregnancy and managing to not scare Josh away..
to driving over an hour to the hospital in disbelief that I was in even labor..
to Jaxon being handed to me and falling head over heels harder in love than I ever imagined was possible.

If you have read enough of my previous posts, you understand what I mean when I say that
motherhood literally saved my life.

But back to my actual point, I have become a mother TWICE within the past 3 years.
Anyone else think it sounds insane when phrased like that?? I mean, it's the truth. After you turn 21, a year flies by faster than you even considered possible. If I didn't understand it before, I truly believe it now, that a-freaking-lot can happen in a year. A lot. Yet it still comes and goes so fast I can barely take it all in.

Just a short 5 years ago, I was in a relationship with someone entirely different. I was working at an entirely different restaurant. I looked different. I thought different. I dreamed different.

Just one year later, I was betrayed, newly single and had plans to move in with a friend of mine. I had just met Josh while I was working and planned our first date. The first legitimate date I had ever been on in my life at that point. [By that I mean it was with someone who actually had a car, a job, his own money, and therefore came to my door with roses, drove us to a movie and paid for everything. Until this point, I had the car and if I wanted to go out with my ex, I had to drive and pay. Yeah, I know.]

Anyway, exactly one year to the day after that date, Jaxon was born.
It's pretty much the definition of life changing. There wasn't much that didn't completely change during that year. Or ever since, honestly.

I don't regret a thing. I have truly loved every single moment of this transformation. I absolutely love everything about my own little family. I have been able to watch myself grow, blossom and rise from ashes in a way you only can when becoming a mom. I am closer to actually being the woman I dreamed of being for so long. The woman I all but gave up on becoming. I never knew that nurturing life, giving birth and being responsible for a brand new person could show me so much about myself and what I am capable of. Motherhood seriously brought out the best in me. It pulled stuff out of me from places so deep I didn't think they existed. It forced me to use strength I never thought I was capable of. It proved how big, full and desperate my heart could be for another human being.

Motherhood also showed me a lot about teamwork and mommy and daddy relationships.
I know having kids before marriage is typically frowned upon and seen as irresponsible. I understand how rare and even crazy it is that I not only am still very much with Jaxon's dad, but we went ahead and had a second one together this year. I am fully aware how abnormal the creation of our family has been. Even if I didn't get reminded daily how out of order we did things, I've understood this whole time, believe it or not.

I'm going to go ahead and say something even crazier.
I credit my love, trust, understanding and all around solid relationship with/for Josh to having both our children before conquering the marriage adventure.
Which is how we've approached all of this together; as an adventure. Not a mistake, not a burden. A brand new and scary, but promising adventure. And we've grown closer and stronger through it. We've come out more wise, more aware and yes, mature, from it. We have a long way to go and millions more adventures to go on, but we have every intention of journeying together for every single one.

I'm not saying this is the way to go for everyone. I'm not trying to sell you on any sort of relationship advice or #goals. I certainly wouldn't recommend this exact journey to anyone else because it wasn't meant for anyone else. All I could ever tell you is to stay open, stay smart, don't fear all change and don't let anyone tell you how to feel when it comes to your heart and happiness.
Because just as I don't necessarily encourage you to "do what I did", I also truly believe, with all I have in me, that I did what I was meant for, that I'm with who I'm meant for and that I've got a lot more adventures and transformations to live through.

I mean, hey. Someone had to be the black sheep, right?
We all know I've never been the most "traditional" of the bunch, anyway...
One thing is for sure; I have never felt so happy and so whole.
So if you're looking for #goals inspo, there it is. That's it.
Now go get yours.