I know, I know… It’s totally not even February yet. We had such a crazy Thanksgiving/Christmas season that I really didn’t get to decorate for the holidays so we are going all out this year, starting with Valentine’s Day. I got to crafting and voila! A lovely heart banner for Valentine’s Day!

I’ve been playing around with the idea of opening  up an etsy shop for some time now, but can never decide what in the world to sell. I am always making things, and with every “craft” my husband tells me, “YOU SHOULD SELL THAT ON ETSY!” …I think he just wants me to make some money from home 😉 Unfortunately, every time I make something it seems to be a project I could never make quick enough or cheap enough to make any sort of profit. So we’ll see..

For now, we are packing and preparing for a 4 day vacation with some friends. To be honest, I am completely dreading the drive-time with an almost 6 month old. It’s an eight hour drive to where we are going and I just might be a little bit uptight when it comes to Ezra’s schedule. So, for now I am just focusing on maintaining my sanity and trying to enjoy the opportunity for some time away with good friends. Hopefully my next post won’t be about any terrible disasters that will inevitably happen. 🙂


Week 2


There are many things that I said that I would be as a mother: always put together, always putting meals made from scratch in front of my family, a clean house ALL of the time, capable of doing it all- and still having plenty of energy at the end of the day.
Today, we played with our pears at breakfast. Ezra took bites and spit them out everywhere and we laughed.
I hid under his highchair with a camera and we played peek-a-boo.
He touched my camera with his messy hands and I didn’t care.
I scooped him up afterwords without even flinching at his mess all over the front of me as I carried him into his room to clean him up.
Being a mom is messy. It’s messy and it’s hard work… oftentimes so much so that it brings me to tears of frustration, and joy, and hilarity, all at the same time.
My home is a disaster. There are dishes piled in the sink, mountains of laundry that I need to fold, dinner was average- but I couldn’t have enjoyed today more.
I love being a wife and a mother- good days, bad days, days where I smell like spit up and pears. Days when my husband wants to cuddle and I haven’t had time to shower or brush my teeth. Days when I get peed on. Days that I am running on so little sleep that I don’t know how I’ll make it to the end of the day alive.
There are many things I said I would be as a mother… and a lot of those things are loosing their spot on my list of priorities, and I am okay with that.

“Mommy Brain”

It’s totally a thing. Just when you think you get to say goodbye to preoccupied pregnancy brain, you give birth and focus 110% of your thoughts on your new bundle of joy, even when you try not to. Most of the time the time this simply means I will forget what I am saying in the middle of a sentence or forget to take my vitamins. Other times, it can result in something much more… inconvenient.

 I think most moms would agree that it’s sometimes more work than it’s worth to leave the house with a small child. I’ve made a habit of planning my errands after Ezra’s bedtime so that I can leave him at home with my husband when I want to take my sweet time. When Ezra was just a few weeks old, I left the house one night for a grocery run. After deciding to make “just one more quick stop”, I exited said extra stop only to find my car was GONE. I, of course, panicked. The parking lot was almost empty… so I assumed it must have been stolen. I dialed my husband and started walking down the street.

Off in the distance, I saw a car that looked just like mine. A few people were gathered around, and as I walked closer, I realized it was, in fact, my car. I approached the group, made some embarrassing comment about forgetting my parking brake… all the while being completely oblivious to the fact that my car had rolled through a liquor store before bouncing back behind the curb. Yes, that’s right- someone had to POINT OUT to me that there was alcohol and shattered glass all over the ground and the entire front end of my car was bashed in as I was opening my door to just get in and drive home, as if nothing had happened. Talk about your mind being somewhere else. You can bet my husband didn’t think I was mentally stable enough to leave the house for a few days 😉

So today, just when I thought these ridiculous episodes were over… I was craving cookies. [Recipe: here]. My first problem: I was multitasking. Multitasking is something you have to do when you are a mom but probably shouldn’t do without supervision from a spouse or friend while you’re a new mom. Here I am, feeding and entertaining a baby and scooping my cookie dough onto a pan.
Only few short minutes into the cooking time, I notice a funny smell. I open the oven and this is what I find:

One. Big. BLOB. Of “cookie”, spilling over the edges of the pan and all over the sides and bottom of the oven. I start re-reading the recipe trying to figure out what I must’ve missed… FLOUR. I forgot to put FLOUR in my COOKIES! How does that even happen? I’ll tell you. You have a baby and you *temporarily loose your ability to use your brain in any and all circumstances where you are required to think about more than one thing at a time.

You’ll be happy to know that Aslan scraped the mush out of the oven and I successfully made another batch after the baby went to sleep. This mama really needs her cookies.

*I’ve been told it’s temporary. Although, I am starting to worry.

A First Trip to the Park


I have been waiting and waiting for a day warm enough to take Ezra to the park for the first time. Considering we live in Nebraska and it’s JANUARY… I didn’t think it would be any time soon. However, it was above freezing today and I figured if we bundled up, the three of us could really enjoy some fresh air! That was not the case. Ezra was shivering and less-than-impressed by the swings. I did manage to get a couple of cute shots though!

This kid is all too serious, let me tell ya!




Ezra’s Birth Story

My sweet little man is 5 months (as of the 5th) and I have been reflecting on his birth a lot lately. If you would’ve asked me 6 months ago what my “birth plan” was, I would have given you a detailed list of expectations for the big day. For starters, from very early on in my pregnancy, I began convincing myself I would be delivering two weeks early because of a “gut feeling”. This was most definitely not the case.


Aslan and I prepared in every way we thought we possibly could. I had every intention of delivering without an epidural or any other medical intervention. We took natural childbirth classes, I did prenatal yoga (and looked like a goofball, might I add) in our living room, took evening primrose oil, and the whole 9 yards. My due date came and went, and still no sign of baby. As time went on, I got more and more uncomfortable and on August 4th, I decided that I would try every single “natural” way to induce labor until that baby decided it was time. So, I woke up and RAN up and down the bleachers at a near by school, went out and had eggplant parmesan with my hubby, bounced on my birthing ball for what felt like hours, etc etc until eventually I somehow talked myself into taking *castor oil. (*side note: don’t try this ladies, so not worth it).


At this point, it was almost midnight. I had hoped that contractions would start in my sleep in get stronger by morning, after a good nights rest, of course. I went and laid down in bed and before I could even fall asleep I felt my first “real” contraction. Things progressed WAY quicker than I imagined they would and within the half hour, my contractions were roughly 5 minutes apart and a minute long.

Aslan tells me that I was laughing in between trying to breathe during each contraction. I, however, just remember trying to hold myself together as I got into the car to go to the hospital. Of course, Ezra was posterior and I had HORRIBLE back labor.. so I sat in the front seat backwards, hugging the chair. Thankfully, we live right down the street from the hospital.

After checking in and changing into my hospital gown, the nurse checked me and told me I was at a 5. Although contractions were already MUCH more painful than I imagined, I thought, “A FIVE?! I CAN DO THIS!!!” Now for some reason, which I am still unsure of, my midwife broke my water. No warning. Maybe it was an accident? Anyway, this made things MUCH more painful and Aslan and I spent the next 5 hours doing everything we could think of to hopefully ease some of the pain I was feeling. I tried EVERYTHING: bounced on the birth ball, got down on my hands and knees, and even went to visit a friend who was on bed rest at the hospital. My midwife tried helping me do laps around the labor and delivery floor and it was at that point that I felt like I just couldn’t take the pain any more. She tried talking me into toughing it out a little longer and helped me into the whirpool to hopefully take some of the pressure off my back and told me we would check for any progress and reevaluate from there.


People always ask what labor feels like… and it’s no wonder no one can really describe it. It really is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I am told that you forget, and while I am sure that’s true- I don’t know that I will ever forget staring into the water and physically SHAKING from being in so much pain. My midwife checked me once more and said, “I think you’re at.. a 4? MAYBE a 4 1/2.” I had never felt so defeated. I couldn’t believe that not only had I not progressed at all, but I wasn’t even as far along as I was originally told. My poor husband, I practically threatened him before that day. I told him NO MATTER WHAT to not let me get an epidural. SO here I am, in tears, shaking, begging him to get me that epidural. Long story short, 30 minutes later the anesthesiologist came to the rescue.

It was almost 7 am and neither of us had slept. The nurses had propped my body up in such a way that it would hopefully flip baby (and it did, thank god) I stared at the monitor for a few contractions, and both Aslan and I went to sleep. Hours later, the nurse woke me up, checked me, and said, “YOU’RE AT A 10! Ready to push?!” And just like that, it was time.

I vividly remember the remainder of my labor. I remember having my eyes completely glued to the screen, watching my contractions  and pushing with every bit of strength that I had. Thankfully, it went by so quickly. I pushed for less than 30 minutes, and up until the last few, it was a breeze. I do however, remember thinking, “There has GOT to be another way… there is no way this is going to work!”

When he was finally out, they laid him on my chest for skin-to-skin and I thought for sure I would drop him! He was the most beautiful boy I had ever laid eyes on and he was ours.. and if I am being honest, for the first time it scared me. Just like that, I was a mama!


Our hospital stay was awesome. Anyone here in Nebraska knows this hospital is like a RESORT. The food is surprisingly amazing… and before we delivered there, one of our youth kids informed us that they always bring “the most delicious warm cookies” to the rooms, which is true! 😉 Ezra stayed in the room with us and, of course, I didn’t get any sleep because I had to “check on him” every 5 seconds of the night. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him then, and at 5 months old, I still can’t!


Week 1

Let’s be honest: I am terrible at blogging. Here I am, it’s been over a year since I last posted and to be quite honest, it looks like I hadn’t posted much in the first place.
My husband, Aslan, and I were talking the other day about the way that we see people through the lens of the internet. For example- we celebrated Christmas with some friends since our family is all out of town. Instead of having your traditional Christmas dinner, we all decided it would be fun to each bring a food that comes from your ethnic heritage. I, being an Italian who is honestly sick of pasta (this is a temporary thing, I assure you), decided to bring cannoli. Now, since I assumed that would be the only time I would ever make cannoli and I didn’t feel like running out and buying a cannoli shell “form”, I used ice cream cones (thank you Pinterest!!).
Well, I am all excited about my fancy dessert and decide to make it the night before to make things easier on Christmas morning. When finished I think to myself- this looks AMAZING. I should post a photo on Facebook and show everyone the Masterchef that I am.
The next morning, I proudly went to the fridge, reached for the cannoli…. and yeeeeeah. Absolute soggy MUSH! So, internet world… next time I brag about something fancy that I’ve cooked, recognize that it may have looked pretty, but probably wasn’t edible.

Anyway, I realized that last year, I decided I wanted to blog for the sole purpose of convincing people that I lived an exciting life, that my life was worthy of celebrating. The truth is- I really do. And I don’t need to spend my time trying to make other people believe it. Sometimes it’s really messy. Like, poop all down the front of me, laughing hysterically messy (another story for another day). Sometimes it’s completely uneventful. And sometimes- I am living a life I could have never even DREAMED of with a very flawed but very loving, patient, handsome man and CUTEST, and I MEAN cutest kiddo ever. So, here’s to starting to blog… aaaaggggain. Not for you, but for me…. so that I can look back on something and be reminded of how blessed I am, both for the good and the messy. 🙂

So, on another note- I have always wanted to do the photo for every week of the year. Since I have an adorable 5 month old who is growing like I cannot believe, I thought it would be fun to take a photo of HIM every week…. well, er… POST a photo of him a week. If I am honest, I spend half the day taking photos of him. I can’t help it that he is so cute!!
I took this on an early morning a couple of days ago. Ezra is going through this phase where he WILL NOT let me put him down for atleast 10 or 15 minutes after he wakes up from bedtime or naps. I don’t mind one bit! Me and my sleepy boy sit and practice our consonant sounds. His favorite, at the moment, is the ‘G’ sound. The kid thinks it’s completely hysterical when I say “guh-guh-guh-guh”. I am telling you, this sweetie is a dream come true.