Transitional State of Mind. {And thoughts on natural childbirth}.

Since I turned 27, I've been in a constant state of transition.

Never quite comfortable in my current state of mind.
Always prepping for the next stage of something.

Cross-country move.
New job.
New master's.
First house.
First baby.
New job.

But after three years, I finally feel settled.
And more content than I ever have been.

Yet still in a transitional state of mind.

I will never forget a conversation I had with two friends a few months back.
Both were in the process of building/completely renovating homes.
I giggled as they began throwing out home design terms by pegging one another's home styles as modern and contemporary.
So, I asked my personal experts what my home style was.
They actually seemed...puzzled.
They went back and forth, throwing out over a dozen terms.
But the only word I kept hearing over and over was transitional.

I nonchalantly pulled out my phone and googled transitional: passage from one form, state, style, or place to another.

So I'm basically in between styles.
My friends finally concluded that I'm transitional-contemporary with a hint of shabby chic and eclectic.

Huh?

What I did take from the conversation is that I am, in every sense of the word, transitional.

I can't make up my mind.
I like too many things.
I can't make decisions to save my life.
I quadruple guess the decisions I do make.
And I'm always in between...everything.
{Like pant and bra sizes}.

Take this exact moment in my life, for example.
I am at a definitive transitional time.
Stuck in between.
Between loving the idea of a sibling for Lyla and equally loving the idea of how easy our lives are right now...with one child.

It doesn't help that everyone all around me is pregnant, just had a baby, adopting, or trying for a baby.
My recent visits to see friends and their newborns at the hospital haven't helped either.
A place where snuggling these sweet newbies scratches my baby itch plenty, yet not quite enough.

After these visits, I usually leave with a slight twinge of panic.
Like holy smokes can I handle all of that again right now?
Sleepless months nights, breastfeeding, pumping, dozens of dirty diapers, crying *and lots of it*, and nothing but laundry and dishes all day every day.
Oh my goodness, but then I immediately remember the constant cloud of mommy-bliss for the first two months, the middle of the night snuggles, the intense bonding, the abundance of love, the teachable moments, the laughter, the fun.

And then I'm bombarded with the reminder of good ol' labor.

They say you forget all about labor after a year.
That way you are willing to actually go through it again for another.

Mmm.
I sure haven't forgotten.

The consecutive contractions one on top of another for what seemed like an eternity at home.
Contracting multiple times on the way to the hospital. Then again in the garage. Then again on the public restroom floor.
The uncontrollable shivering.
The point when I lost my mind. {Which was about the time I shoved Gabe's face out of mine and told him he had bad breath. Don't take it personally, Babe.}
Losing control of my body and being told not to push, even though my body was forcing me to - for three hours straight. *Which ironically was the "transition" phase of labor, in which case I learned after the fact that I had a much longer than normal transition phase. *Go figure*

But I also vividly remember feeling like Superwoman when it came time to push.
Hearing the resident say, I see a head...with lots of dark hair!
Going to a place mentally that I've never gone before.
Digging deep to find an inner strength I never knew I had.
Depending on my husband in a way that has made our marriage unshakable.
Holding my daughter skin-to-skin for the first time.
Eating an entire box of peanut butter crackers immediately after giving birth.
Discovering a kind of love for the first time that can't be described in words.

People often ask me if I plan to do another natural childbirth with a second babe.
I'd like to think that I will, but I also like the idea of a significantly more relaxed, pain-free childbirth.
But then I have a friend e-mail me with questions, telling me of her plans and reasons for a natural birth.
And I get excited about it all over again.

Every moment of my labor, no matter how painful, was absolutely beautiful.
Each contraction, a reminder that we were bringing a blessing into this world.
And there was just something cathartic about experiencing birth in a completely natural way, the way our bodies were meant to handle it.

And I love hearing others' birth stories.
I love how every labor is different, each birth unique.
All absolutely beautiful.

One of my long-time blog friends Kristin agrees as she has recently launched a new website dedicated to new mamas. And I was honored when she asked me to contribute Lyla's birth story.

The best day of my entire life. 

Go check out my featured story and other fellow mamas' stories here !!!

Toddler Girl Wishlist {for the Toy-Disliking Mom}

The moment I digest my turkey and sweet potato casserole, I immediately raise my proverbial glass to Christmas cheer.

There's nothing like Christmas spirit. The twinkly lights, mulled cider, flannel pajamas, display of family holiday cards, and All I Want for Christmas is You on repeat.

I'm perpetually in a good mood from the day after Thanksgiving until New Year's.

And now that we have Lyla, Christmas takes on a whole new meaning. The traditions we began as a young, baby-faced married couple have been coupled with new traditions to include our latest mini-us. And luckily, we are currently in the toddler phase. A phase where we can test-drive our traditions and pick and choose the ones we love and want to carry on.

But, with Christmas in particular, I want to get it right. Because to me, it's the most special season of the entire year. It provides memories that are turned into stories and traditions that we want our children's children to carry on.

But it's a fine balance.

I adore the magic of Christmas, but I also want our family to always understand the reason we celebrate. And I'm still trying to figure out what that looks like exactly. I want our children to experience the enchantment of Santa, and I LOVE the idea of modern traditions like Elf on the Shelf. However, I simply don't want the focus to be on those things, and I especially do not want to embrace the commercialized belief that Santa + Presents = Christmas. 

But I absolutely love getting together with family and exchanging gifts. It's such a thrill to watch as your loved ones carefully unwrap their pretty packages and discover what's inside. Then add the act of gift-giving to include your offspring - Aye-Aye-Aye. I seriously think there were over two dozen things that Lyla "HAD to have because they NEVER go on sale" on Black Friday. {Sucker Alert}. But I restricted myself and only bought a few things.

I must admit, I did go a little more overboard on gifts than I had planned for Miss Beans this year. But you guys, stuffing a stocking for a toddler girl is SO.MUCH.FUN. {Hello toddler head wraps, infinity scarves, and headbands}. I originally wanted to embrace the idea of the simple gift giving philosophy: want, need, wear, read. It limits the gift-buying and prevents overly enthusiastic parents from doing things like purchasing every single item marked as a favorite on Etsy *ahem*. And honest-to-goodness, I would love to and plan to incorporate this idea next year!

That being said, when you have a one year old daughter who is the first {and only} grandchild on both sides of the family, it's next to impossible to implement a "No-Gift Policy". And I don't necessarily want that kind of a policy. I simply don't want Christmas to become a time where Lyla gets an accumulation of stuff.  Besides, how much could a 15 month old actually need...when I still have gifts from her birthday that I'm "saving" for a rainy day.

So I compiled a list of a few things on Lyla's Christmas Dream Wishlist. In other words, I *happily* compromised on a few things on her list this year and bought cheaper versions. Just like the PBK table and chairs that I've had my eye on for awhile. Instead, we bought her the Melissa and Doug version , which will be just as cute when we paint them!

I am not a huge fan of toys in general, {more like the accumulation of cheap, tacky toys a.k.a. clutter}. But I realize that I'm just going to have to get over that, and I've already begun the bonding process with Little Tikes. It's just that there's something wonderful about simple toys that don't have bells, whistles, and painfully annoying musical sounds. Therefore, I often love wooden products because they are classic, durable, and don't scream "My-house-is-now-a-Fisher-Price-factory". And I also love all-things handmade.

But of course I make exceptions and buy the "fun" toys every now and then.
After all, no one likes a buzz kill.

Gwendolyn Raccoon and Flora Fox: I am absolutely obsessed. Aren't these organic woodland animals just the sweetest things you've ever seen? I almost bought one at 40% off on Black Friday, but I'd already sworn myself to no.more.presents. But Gwendolyn's dress is perfumed with lavender and mint sachet. I mean...

Wooden Doll Pram: Lyla definitely needs a stroller for her baby. I'm obsessed with doll prams in general, like this one from Amazon {I do not, however, love the almost $200 price tag. Seriously???} or this one from Land of Nod. However, I think we may have to graduate to the wooden pram next year as I last-minute added this Fisher Price Walk-Along Stroller to her Amazon Wishlist - more developmentally appropriate for where she's at with walking.

Wheely Bug: Oh my goodness. I love these classic yet modern ride on toys, particularly the lady bug and the bee. But since she would only use it for another year or so and the Wheely Bugs run about $65.00, and because I had a leftover gift card to Wal-Mart {given to me from my students almost 3 years ago}, I decided to go with this Push and Ride Doll Walker. 

Mini Cooking Set: Ly currently uses Mom's pots and pans in the kitchen and absolutely loves them. So I thought it would be fun for her to have a set of her own. She loves anything that makes her feel like she's doing adult things.

Musical Instruments:This kid loves nothing more than music. I mean loves. She currently has a set of Bert and Ernie maracas from when I was a child, but she could use a set of her own instruments. Besides, we're starting a toddler music class this winter, and she may need some extra practice at home.

A few other items on Lyla's Amazon Wish List:

• A teepee. Obviously. Although, this can't be too hard to make. Right?
• Finger puppets. Seriously, Lyla thinks absolutely nothing is as hilarious as finger puppets. 
• Washable paints. We're going to be doing a lot of artsy crafting at our new table. 
• Pantone color flashcards. I'm not sure how well it's sticking, but we love working on our colors. 
• Anything educational. Melissa and Doug *of course* has all kinds of fun educational things like this number puzzle or this see and spell. 
• Anything from Etsy. This mama went crazy on the hand-mades this year. This mama also should probably learn how to sew {and craft for that matter}.

A Moment of Silence.

Forgive me in advance.

I am well aware that social media, particularly blogging, is a place to show your best - the happy, the funny, the light-hearted.
But I've always made it a priority to reflect reality on my blog.
Because life isn't sparkles and sunshine all day everyday.
And to be completely honest, I don't think I have even the slightest ability to pretend with my emotions.
What you see is what you get.

I was actually planning to write a post on Lyla's holiday wish list.
But that now seems so completely trivial, it's embarrassing.
Because today, my heart is heavy.

There's been a pit in my stomach since last evening.
I received a text message from a friend telling me that my OBGYN had died in an accident while on vacation.

Here's the thing.
He was not just my OB.
The fact that I'm writing an entire blog post dedicated to my doctor is telling of that fact.
And I guarantee there are hundreds {if not thousands} of women out there who are feeling the same way that I am today.
Not to mention the unimaginable loss his family and friends are experiencing, only two short weeks before Christmas.

Dr. Douthit had a way of making me feel special at every visit. He got to know me, got to know Gabe, and never rushed me. He remembered even the smallest details of my life - like the fact that I put so much work into being a good teacher. He respected my birth plan and worked with me to make my desire to have a natural childbirth possible and comfortable. He made me laugh at every visit, and I even have a silly keepsake in my wallet that he gave me. It was a diagram he drew of my "womanly cycle" showing me the days to really try NOT to get pregnant. {Since we were unsuccessful in "not trying" the first time around}. In his words, this diagram was for our next child's baby book - implying that we don't seem to do well with our own version of "natural family planning".

When I saw him just a few weeks ago, he asked to see pictures of Lyla and then immediately pulled out his iPhone and proudly showed me pictures of his granddaughter.  A few minutes into my appointment, he got a phone call from the hospital telling him one of his patient's was starting to push and that he was needed immediately. He apologized to me and started to head out the door to go deliver a baby. But then he stopped, turned around, and said with that infamous smirk, "Eh, this won't take too long. I feel like I have to make up for the fact that I missed Lyla's debut. I'll just tell her I was dealing with a really demanding patient". He asked me a few more questions, finished my exam, shook my hand, and he said "Make sure you tell Gabe hello!"

It was after this last visit that he uknowingly "sealed the deal" for me.
Prior to that day, I was actually thinking about switching doctors, purely for logistical reasons (like having to wait 2-3 hours during prenatal appointments).
I had been debating for a few months with the thought of switching for our next baby, but I always turned my thoughts back to staying with Douthit. We had such rapport, and I trusted him with my life.
And after my most recent visit, I came home and told Gabe, "Decision made. I don't know what I was thinking. I can't imagine being in the hands of any other doctor."

He cared about every one of his patients, and it was evidenced by the hundreds of pictures of him holding fresh-from-the-womb newborns while displaying a certain number of fingers {which signified the birth order of that baby}. These pictures wall-papered his entire office.

This is the doctor who promised me that even if he was NOT on call, there was a 90% chance he would still deliver my baby.
Unfortunately, Lyla decided to enter the world the one day he was out of town.
He came up to the hospital on his lunch break the next day - just to meet my new baby.
He gave me a huge hug and told me that he heard all about my hard work during my natural labor. He told me he was proud. Then he teared up when he held Lyla and said how sad he was to miss her birth.
He asked to get a picture and held up a number 1, "This time", he said, "meaning one day late".
Talk about making me feel special.

My heart and my prayers go out to his family and his practice.
May all whom Dr. Douthit impacted find peace during this difficult time.
There are a countless number of babies, children, and now grown adults who are here because of his work.
What a truly amazing doctor, and what a legacy this Godly man has left behind.

Dr. Douthit, you will be missed!

More than a Day of Thanks

Phew. What a weekend.
A weekend full of family chaos {the fun kind}, farm animals, and tryptophan-induced comas.

It's nearly Wednesday, and I'm just now coming down from my all-natural holiday high.

This year's Thanksgiving holiday was extra special.
It's the first holiday in a long time, or maybe ever, where I was able to fully let loose and completely enjoy.
Perhaps because I didn't have lesson plans to catch up on on the way to the farm.
Or maybe the fact that I have a no-stress policy that I am strictly enforcing at this current moment in my life.

Regardless, it was a perfectly perfect weekend.
The type of unforgettable weekend where I came home and felt the need to reflect.
On life, on thankfulness.
Through my pondering, I realized that I learned a few things this weekend.

Allow me to share a few little life tidbits I learned this Thanksgiving holiday.

Thanksgiving should be celebrated everyday. And I don't mean the sweet potato casserole and endless rounds of Yahtzee. I simply mean that gratitude is something that I want to strive for everyday, no matter my circumstances. But in this particular happy season of life, thankfulness comes so easily. And this Thanksgiving, I was oozing joy and actually felt it in my core. At one point during the day, I looked around at our families and thought my heart might *literally* explode sparkly, gold confetti.

It's not wise to drink a cup of coffee {or anything liquid for that matter} before a heading out on a 2 hour road trip. Or maybe this simply applies to those of us with the bladder the size of a popcorn kernel. You'd think my mom and I would have this lesson engrained in our brains after dozens of car rides together. But nope. We have now stopped at the same gas station 4 miles out from our final Thanksgiving destination two years in a row. Gotta take care of business before walking into a crowd of 50+ family members whom you haven't seen in over a year...and into a house with one bathroom. We've just chalked it up to a Turkey Day tradition. 

 Eight year old boys exploring in the woods aren't the only ones who get poison ivy. Too bad my husband also likes to explore and is incredibly allergic to the evil plant. He's been home from work for going on 3 days because he has it everywhere. I mean everywhere. Poor guy has to sleep in the guest room, had to get a steroid shot, and walks around all day with pink lotion all over his body. Lesson to be learned: don't roll around in suspicious looking plants. {Just kidding. He was cutting wood for his 87 year old grandpa}.

No matter how hard I try, I will never be cool. Especially when I walk around a farm in Steve Madden boots and step in chicken poop. Or when I scream like a girl when a sweet little goat tries to nibble my sweater. Or when I try to shoot a gun and end up falling backwards from absolute fright {and make the most ridiculous face to prove it}. At least I'm not the only one who looks a little out-of-my-element while shooting a gun.

I can hope all I want, but I do not have a sleep-the-moment-she-hits-the-carseat child. Most normal children can't fight the lull of a car. Except of course, my sweet Lyla. That little boogie refuses to sleep in any form of transportation, really. However, I can't really complain. Because I much prefer the tradeoff of having an independent sleep-all-night-no-matter-what toddler. But still. It sure would be nice if I could count on a little nap-a-roo on a long car ride. I guess someone just refuses to end the party.

Thanksgiving leftovers are almost better than Thanksgiving dinner itself. I look forward to Thanksgiving 364 days of the year. I love everything about it. For us, we travel to Gabe's family's farm and get to explore the farm, mingle with dozens of cousins, and dine on the most delicious feast ever. However, there is one negative. We don't get any Thanksgiving leftovers...an absolute travesty. So we decided that starting next year, we are going to host our own little family mini-Thanksgiving the day after the real holiday. Just for the leftovers.

It was such a fabulous day.
One that I will remember for a long time.

Needless to say, we went to bed with full hearts and full tummies that night.

The Local Challenge: Stearman Field

Oh, the weather outside is frightful.
But this girl is finding it quite delightful.

I can't help but be positively jolly this time of year.
And it's not just the anticipation of our upcoming Christmas movie all-nighters or our annual cookie-decorating marathon.
I actually like winter.
Or at least I don't mind it.
{Until about February 1st, that is. When it's time to bust out the mint skinnies and boat shoes.}

But winter definitely has its place.
I love me some big chunky sweaters, morning coffee in fuzzy jammies and slippers, and hearty "comfort soups" in the crockpot  at least three nights a week.
And I love that winter has a way of nudging me to embrace my inner-homebody and allow me some time to hibernate on the couch with my pups and endless episodes of Revenge on Netflix.

It admittedly helps that my super-hubby put up insulating plastic on our 60 year old kitchen windows. 

It no longer feels like I'm walking into the North Pole every time I load the dishwasher. 

So, I can enjoy the comfort of my warm home while it's chill-to-the-bone arctic temps outside. 

However, winter's harsh winds and dreary mornings do make it a bit more difficult to get out as much. 

Thus presenting a bit of a challenge for Gabe and I to fulfill our Local Challenge, where we committed to getting out and trying new local things at least twice a month. 

We've actually done pretty well so far. 

And we have a few things on our list to really get us in the Christmas spirit in the upcoming weeks. 

But I'd like to highlight a little gem of a place that we visited awhile back. 

A place that is absolutely perfect for a casual lunch after church with the fam or a celebration of sorts on the patio {a patio that has some hefty heaters for winter too}. 

We went with friends to Stearman Field in Benton, KS, where you can fly in or drive in. 

What an absolute treasure of a place!

I have no idea how I grew up only 20 minutes away and never visited Stearman Field.

Seriously, how? 

It's a tiny little airpark lined with beautiful homes, each with an extra garage.

*The extra garage being a place to park personal airplanes, of course.*

And you get to watch the takeoffs and landings of these planes up close and personal while you munch on fried pickles and sip on Boulevard Wheat. 

How cool is that? 

The kiddies absolutely LOVED it.

And there's even a nice little playground if the planes don't strike your fancy {or your super girly toddler's fancy *ahem*}. 

We had such a great time. The service was great, and the food was quite delish as well. 

This would be such a fun casual date or a nice get-together with friends. 

Can't wait to go back in the spring!!

15 Months

15 Months Old: 11/19/13

My Sweetest Beans.

This month has been one of our more difficult months. 

With a head cold, your first stomach bug, 3 official molars, and frustration over your mobility limitations, you spent more than a few days in a not-so-pleasant mood.

Yet in the same breath, this month was nothing short of amazing. 

Your growth and development is simply fascinating. 

With every new word, skill, and toddler trick, I'm taken aback.

I'm that parent. 

The huge dweeb.

The one who's giddy over every cute, silly, sweet thing you do.  

Heck. 

You could just sit there, drool, and blink. 

And it would still take everything in my power not to go banging down the neighbors' doors, begging to show them how awesome you drool and blink. 

It's funny how something as small {and obnoxious if you weren't 1 years old} as wiggling your tongue back and forth when I ask Where's your mouth, Lyla can make me jump up and down with excitement. 

Simply because it's new. 

Something you didn't do the day before. 

And certainly not the month before. 

I just love being a mom.

Your mom in particular. 

Even on the hard months. 

Especially on the hard months.

Because you're extra needy when you don't feel well. 

Which subsequently means extra mommy-snuggles.

In fact, mom and dad caved and let you sleep with them one Saturday morning.

I think we all stayed in bed until 11 that morning. 

The best!

So fussy moments and cranky pants aside, this month was a good one. 

• I love getting texts from GiGi that tell me you're doing something new or saying a new word. Like when she told me you said hello for the first time. You had just turned 14 months old, and you picked up a tv remote, put it to your ear and said hello? Sure enough, I witnessed it that night, and you've been saying it ever since: every time a phone rings, when someone knocks at the door, or when you see anything that remotely resembles a phone. And the little inflection you do at the end of hewwo? is enough in and of itself to make me die a happy woman. Absolutely adorable. 

• I'm quite convinced you're going to be the artsy type. There is nothing you adore more than music and dancing. You've liked music since you were a wee babe, but lately you love music. When we sing, you carry your own little toddler tune, you love to play with your moraccas and symbols, and you dance the moment you hear a song. You've even started singing da-a-a-a-ann for "dance" when you're wiggling your hips and flailing your hands in the air to music. So we decided to try a demo Mommy and Me music class. Of course I signed us up the moment it ended. You loved it, despite the fact that it was smack-dab in the middle of your nap time. You especially loved the drum!

• We've started working on our body parts this month. You have different things you do for certain parts: wiggling your tongue back and forth, putting your finger straight up your nose, and blinking your eyes. Although much of the time, you get them mixed up. I'll say Wheeere is Lyla's nose, and you start blinking, or Wheeere is Lyla's eyes, and you stick out your tongue. It's a work in progress. ;) But, there are two body parts you have down perfectly: toes and belly button. You say toes and pull up your feet and point to your toes, and you say bepp for belly button and pat your tummy. And then you pull up my shirt to point to my belly button. 

• In lieu of your most commonly used nickname Miss Beans, I began calling you Miss Indie this month. Holy independence. You are a busy lady these days and want absolutely no help from mom or dad…or so you want us to believe. You've even started pushing me away, which is enough to make me curl up under the table and cry like a baby. But your short fuse is immediately ignited the moment your independence is hurdled by a toddler roadblock, like being unable to communicate what you want or your inability to walk without the assistance of an adult or push toy. If you don't get your way, you let us know either by crying or squeezing your hands into fists and shaking. And you don't get your way a lot. But our favorite is when you want more food. Instead of patiently signing "more" like you used to, you {in a very panicked tone} say take-you (thank you) over and over again until we get your more. This toddler thing is tough stuff, little love. 

• You are absolutely everywhere these days, and you're fast too. You're not yet walking on your own, but we think you might be close. You walk all over the place, you just have to be holding onto something - mostly the furniture or your push toy. You are able to very slowly walk while holding onto an adult hand, but you are quite wobbly. And poor thing, you simply aren't confident in yourself yet. If we distract you, you will stand on your own, but the moment you realize you don't have help, you immediately squat and sit. Like every other major milestone, you reach them at your own pace. You like to be absolutely confident before fully committing and simply don't like to be put on the spot. You do things when you are ready, which is a fine attribute to have, my dear. 

• You're still a fabulous eater. You love anything edible, and I think you'd eat forever if we didn't stop you. We try not to make you special toddler things, usually just cut-up versions of whatever we're eating. And you've gotten quite skilled with the spoon. I still have to scoop up whatever it is you're eating, but you take the spoon out of my hands and feed yourself. Although it's quite messy, we are learning! Oh, and you have the sweetest little habit where you eat with your feet stretched out touching the tip of your highchair. I don't know what you'll do when your legs are too long - you love your feeding stretch.

• Your vocabulary continues to grow, and it's so fun to hear. Some words you've only said a couple times, some you say every once and awhile, while others you say consistently over and over. Some new words this month were: yes, that, those, hello, toes, dance (dan), brr (cold), flower (fow), blue (boo). *Although we go over colors all the time, I don't think you actually associated "blue" with the color - you were just repeating and pointing to things I said were blue. Still quite exciting to hear! 

• Some of your faves for the month: "putting on" your shoes, pulling up Mommy's shirt to find her belly button, food {of any kind}, waterfalls in the bath, playing Supergirl with Dad, opening and closing doors, zipping up and down, leaves, climbing on your chair, laughing when mom tells you "no" after climbing on said chair, putting your feet up while you eat in your highchair. 

If I Could Keep You Little...

Would you believe me if I said I was spontaneous and go-with-the-flow? 

You know, easy breezy.

No?

Well. You'd probably be right. 

I just have this desperate need to control and plan all things. 

But, let me give myself a little credit here. 

I have been known to be impulsive, and even have some uninhibited fun here and there. 

Thank-you-very-much. 

But mostly, I like routine and commonplace. 

The comfort of knowing my surroundings. 

So it's no surprise that change can be quite difficult for me. 

Behind the facade of my I'm-tough-stuff mask, is a panicked somebody-hold-me face when presented with major change. 

I guess I just like to take time to savor, process, and embrace new changes at my own pace. 

But even the smallest of changes deserve some recognition. 

Like the impending sub-arctic temperatures we are about to take on here in Kansas, for example. 

I'm not quite yet ready to let go of autumn. 

Although, I can't complain either.

We've had one of the most beautiful autumns in history. 

{And by "history",  I really mean, my personal history.}

We've marveled in the mild temperatures and streets splashed with vibrant hues of mustard, pomegranete, and merlot. 

We've played in the leaves, drank plenty of pumpkin spice lattes, and enjoyed trick-or-treating with friends.

We've savored the crisp air and the beauty of this particular fall as it *almost* reminds us of our autumns spent in New England. 

And Lyla's been a big fan too - inspecting every centimeter of her leaf piles, hearing the crunch beneath her little feet, and getting to play outside in November. 

I'm just not quite ready to say goodbye. 

But you know who else I'm not ready to say goodbye to?

Thanksgiving. 

Because it hasn't even arrived yet. 

The Christmas decorations are already in full swing for many, and our iTunes radio was playing Christmas music at work today. 

I'm.not.ready.

{Although, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some of my holiday shopping finished and our Christmas cards ready to be sent out.}

But still. 

My goodness, let's let Thanksgiving have a fair turn in the spotlight, shall we? 

But then, there are some bigger changes that occur in life. 

Sometimes these changes happen subtly, and one day we suddenly realize everything is different. 

While other times, big changes happen overnight, in an instant. 

Like when you suddenly realize that your baby is no longer a baby. 

And like the sparse leaf or two still hanging on by a thread in our neighborhood, I'm grasping at a few lingering qualities that are somewhat reflective of my baby. 

The baby that was born almost 15 months ago. 

The baby who is a full-on toddler. 

You guys. 

Lyla has changed overnight. 

I swear.

Gabe was out of town for a week, and when he came back he was positively positive that she's at least 3 pounds heavier. 

Oh. And she outgrew two pairs of her shoes. 

Shoes that fit her just last week. 

But the physical changes are somewhat bearable. 

It's the budding independence that has nearly winded me. 

Someone has finally figured out that Mom and Dad didn't hang the moon. 

And she is expressing that in as many ways as she can. 

Including pushing Mom away when she goes in for the used-to-be-the-norm kisses. 

Or squealing, screaming, and banging to tell us that she wants food and she wants it NOW.

By clenching her little fists into a ball and shaking when she is mad about something. 

And refusing to stay in one spot because she is busy.busy.busy. with lots of work to do. 

But then, in the most unpredictable moment, my baby is my baby once again. 

Needy for her mom and dad.

Wanting to be rocked to sleep.  

Desperate for some snuggles and a "giss". 

Both of which mom and dad are ready to dish out at the drop of a hat. 

Miss Beans' newfound independence is the first of many changes to come. 

And it really has me thinking, trying to process and prepare for these changes. 

It's these types of changes that are the hardest to wrap my head around. 

Because they're so very bittersweet.

And my thoughts can't help but be directed to one of my all-time favorite children's books, If I Could Keep You Little. 

It's a perfect representation of the bittersweet changes we experience as parents.

How we want to freeze time in hopes to keep our children little. 

To stop and savor the little phase. 

But then the book goes on to show that if our children stayed little, we would miss out on all their accomplishments, achievements, and dreams. 

Such a sweet, simple concept. 

And a such a wonderful reminder. 

So although it doesn't exactly give me warm fuzzes when Lyla pushes me away because she has bigger things to do, it does offer some form of relief. 

Relief in knowing that my daughter is growing and developing exactly how God intended. 

She's turning into her own little person and applying the new skills she learns daily. 

This is only the first step to Lyla's 18 year journey to independence. 

And when that day finally comes, I find comfort in knowing that we will have helped her achieve that independence. 

Our little Miss Beans has big dreams to dream and greatness to achieve.

So although it is a rather tempting desire, I most definitely do not want to keep her little.
*sniffle sniffle*