On being OLD.

A few weeks ago, my mom and I were driving back from Wal-Mart (the classiest retail shopping center within a 60 mile radius) when I noticed something in my reflection in the rear-view mirror. It wasn't just something. It was radiating a brilliant, white glow from the top of my head, bouncing the sunshine right back out of the sunroof from whence it came.

It can't be.

I stared closer, nearly forgetting I should be focused on the road instead. But this, my friends was a crisis. Because what I saw was what no woman ever wants to see. It's especially something this 26 (you read me right, only TWENTY SIX) year-old woman wants to see.

Gray. Hair.

Actually, it wasn't gray, it was white. Stark white. And it wasn't just one.

I yanked the car over in the parking lot of the local bank and forced my mom to conduct a closer inspection. I should have known by the cackles of laughter emitting from her deepest parts that the situation was dire. I, ladies and gentlemen, had a gray (white) hair INFESTATION.

Apparently, and without my knowledge, at some point within the last few months, my body decided to start playing tricks on me. You go to bed one night thinking the world is at your finger tips and the next morning, BAM, you're a poster child for Clairol.

I eventually "took care" of the problem. (My apologies to my stylist, Deborah, for not waiting for the professional job.) And, I eventually got over the shock and awe. But it got me thinking a lot about aging.

It also doesn't help that Jacob just turned ONE and I've been spending the past few days watching videos and looking at pictures from his first few months in life. (He was so quiet, WHAT HAPPENED??) It's incredible to see how much babies grow and develop within such a short time. In 12 months, he's grown leaps and bounds. Once, he depended on me for everything: I provided his nourishment, I carried him from place to place, etc. Now, he's totally content to do everything, or TRY to do everything on his own. He feeds himself, walks wherever he desires, grabs whatever toy (or bug) he's looking for... the kid is like a tiny grown up. How did this happen?!

Getting older. We're all doing it. I don't know about you, but that thought scares me at some moments.

Another occasion in Wal-Mart (you guys, that's the only place to go in this town, okay? Don't judge.),  I was with Jacob, walking out the door and saw an elderly man sitting on a bench near the exit. He was reading the local paper. Not unusual. But, I noticed the way he looked at people as they passed. He wanted us to meet his eyes. He wanted some verbal exchange. His hands shook, as well as his head, as he struggled to concentrate his eyes on the tiny print on the pages in front of him. He was old.

After exchanging greetings and smiles with this sweet stranger, I walked to the car. I looked at Jacob. And I cried. I didn't cry because I pitied him. I cried because I realized that could be my son one day. Aging, lonely, and frail. That could be Brian. It will be me one day. I'm getting old. We're all getting old.

Of course, after I snapped out of my hormonal fit, I came to the realization that aging is not entirely a bad thing. I guess it's just...strange. You see, I know a lot of you probably look at me and think my musings are laughable. I realize I'm still young. But, when I look in the mirror, I already have those moments of not recognizing the person I see. I still feel like that youthful, 20 year old who gets 10 or more hours of sleep each night and doesn't have bags under her eyes and isn't missing her ab muscles after they were stretched to their limit for 40 weeks (you're welcome, Jacob).

I know I'm not the only one who experiences this. I know aging isn't some...thing I've discovered. It's happening to every one, every moment. And for me, it's become a daily reminder of the fact that this life is ending. Whether or not you want to accept the words I'm about to write doesn't diminish the truth: we're all dying. Our bodies were meant to age. They do that from day one. We, of course, try to take an optimistic approach and call it "growing". But, it is what it is.

So, upon this revelation, I have to ask myself: What am I doing with my life? (Ah yes. Welcome to your late-20s, LL.)

Yeah, yeah. I know. I've got my roles and responsibilities: Stay-at-home mom by day (for now), binge Netflix watcher by night. But what about the in-betweens? Those coming and going moments?

I'll be honest. Thinking about all of this, I've realized that I've spent a lot of days doing a lot of mundane things that won't make any type of dent in my life or anyone else's. Sure, down time is great. But I bet I'd be pretty embarrassed to know the hours I've wasted mindlessly watching a television show on Netflix when I could've been on the phone having encouraging conversations with a friend or family member. I could've been digging into scripture and challenging myself to know more about why I believe what I believe. I could've been praying for those who I know are hurting or lost. I could've taken a gift to my elderly neighbor just to let her know someone is thinking of her.

I've got the physical evidence that I'm not going to be young forever. And, as a believer, I trust that one day I'll stand before our Creator and give an account of the work I've done here in this life, but... will it be worthwhile?

My biggest fear is wasting my life, but I sure don't seem too motivated to do anything about it most days. A lot of times, I take the platform God has given me for granted. Brian's job gives me access to a group of students who are willing to share their lives with me and allow me to share mine with them. I have the opportunity to influence them in the best way possible and share the love of Jesus with them in a seriously tangible way. Hours I could spend praying for and investing in them are sometimes spent doing way less important things.

So perhaps now when I look in the mirror and see that tired, albeit still young, woman staring back at me, I'll be reminded of the years that have passed and the moments that are passing. Maybe I'll be a little less concerned about what color to cover up my "crowns of glory" (blah, it's gray hair) and more concerned about remembering, in the time that I've been GIFTED, to let somebody know that they're loved more than they'll ever know.

Live purposefully. Because you have a purpose.
"...whatever you do, do all to the glory of God." 1 Corinthians 10:31

_________________________________________

This one's for you, Mama. Thanks for teaching me about the importance of each day being a gift. As you learn now how to live without YOUR mama, thank you for teaching me to reflect upon the good that a person did within their lifetime, and not being overcome with sorrow. I will forever be grateful to Mamaw for the motivation to be better each day and for the courage to live in such a way that when I leave this world, others might see that it's not about me... it's all about Him. 

And Mom? You're just as beautiful now as you were 26 years ago. THAT'S how I'll always see you.

swelling thoughts.

For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse. - Romans 1:19-20


There is absolutely nothing more I can add to this post that would cement this truth any more that it already is.

The bottom line?

God is.

He was.

He always will be.

There is no denying it. 

And one day? We will see its truth played out; every knee bowing, every tongue confessing that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.



Until then, it is not for me to sit around as if I have no calling or purpose. My purpose was made known when God reached down and breathed His everlasting, life-giving love into my cold corpse and called me one of His own. 

Now I am saved by the grace of our Savior. And I owe my life to Him - a servant of His matchless grace.

Half a year...

...and we're still here!

Man. It seems like that it was just yesterday that THIS happened:

Poor kid. It was this picture that made me worry that perhaps Jacob was going to be not so photogenic, much like his mama. I mean, in his defense he HAD just made quite a traumatic and yucky journey. But luckily for him, his looks improved.

I've pretty much been head over heels in love with this baby since day one.

This kid has grown and changed at an incredibly fast rate. People always told me that their children seemed to grow up overnight and now, I believe that can be true. 

Take a look: Jacob at 1 week, 1 month, and (skipping ahead a bit) 6 months (will have a monthly comparison photo to post as soon as his daddy, AHEM, puts it together):

Good grief.

At SIX MONTHS OLD, Jacob is quite an entertainer. Here's what we know he loves:

• His daddy: Oh mylanta. Anything that Brian does is ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS, to Jacob that is. If I've got a not-so-fun task to do (like suctioning Jacob's nose), I'll call Brian in because goodness knows that kid isn't going to show out for his Daddy. It's simultaneously cute and sickening
• Elmo: Yeah. That's right. Our kid has learned that Elmo is awesome. I'll admit, I was afraid of the affinity-developing stage because I know whatever Jacob likes to watch means we get stuck with. But I'm cool with Elmo. He's cute. And he makes some pretty witty jokes for a 3 year old.
• EATING: You know, pediatricians will tell you that when your baby is full, he'll stop eating or refuse food. Nuh-uh. Not this kid. At 6 months old, he has a cereal and fruit each morning as well as a vegetable and fruit (or something we're eating) at night along with 6-7 feeds during the day. And he eats every single bit of it. I think I could keep offering and the kid would keep eating. He thinks food is fun and it's been fun watching him try things like avocado, bananas, and even a (very, very small) bite of a pickle. It's anything goes with him. His favorite foods though are squash and bananas.
• "Talking": He gets it honest, folks. Our little man babbles from the moment he's awake until we lay him down for the night. 
• Crawling: It's the funniest thing. The kid has shown zero interest in sitting up on his own. In fact, he's not good at it at all. But he can army-crawl like nobody's business. He's a fast little guy. Turn your back for one second and he's chewing on the dog's toys or underneath the Christmas tree, reaching out for an ornament taste-test.

I knew babies were fun, but I didn't know they were THIS much fun. Seriously. Every single moment - even the challenging ones (GROWTH SPURTS) have been absolutely worth it. This kid has shown a personality from an early age and it just keeps getting better.

Happy 6 months in the world, Jacob. 

You sure did make ours better the day you arrived.  

an update, a confession, and a calling

Life finds the Adams family (try your hardest to avoid snapping a la theme song style) at an unusual, uncomfortable, and exciting crossroads right now. Allow me to go back in time a bit to bring you up to speed.

In the spring of 2008, I had the opportunity to spend ten days in Athens, Greece on a mission trip with the college ministry of FBC Clinton, MS. It was a life changing experience in more ways than one. I can still vividly remember sitting on Mars Hill, overlooking the city of Athens, while a pastor read Acts 17 to us. In this chapter, Paul is speaking to Athenians ON MARS HILL (so we literally were sitting in the place this very message had been spoken ages before we arrived). Let me share what it says:

Paul then stood up in the meeting of Areopagus and said: "Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything, because he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else... Acts 17:24-26

It was at this exact moment, overlooking the city of Athens and hearing these words that I knew without a doubt that God was real and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life proclaiming this very message to others around the world - whenever and wherever that meant, no matter the cost. I publicly accepted the call to missions.

Fast forward to the summer of 2012. Brian and I were discussing what our future looked like. I knew he had really been wrestling with the idea of going on the mission field but was finally beginning to feel assured of his calling. We talked about spending our lives somewhere different - giving up everything for the sake of sharing the gospel. I was all in. I was excited.

Fall 2012. We found out we were pregnant with Jacob. Suddenly, that zeal and vigor for obeying the call to go became watered down by fear and worry. With a new baby on the way, did I really want to pack up my life and move away from my family and take my child away from the safety of what we knew to be comfortable? Did I really want to take our parents' grandbaby hundreds, possibly thousands of miles away? That can't be fair to them, can it?

These doubts only multiplied after Jacob was born - for me, that is. Brian never lost his assurance and yet every time he would bring it up, I would shoot it down.

This is where the confession part comes in: For the past few months, I have been pushing and pushing and pushing for Brian to settle down in a church position because that's what I wanted. I wanted him to make the money so I could have a nice house with nice things for entertaining nice people and give my baby boy everything he could ever want. Brian would bring up the idea of missions and I would use our son as a road block. I would use the excuse of safety and family as a means to try and convince him that missions wasn't "for us". I told him something would work out and we would find a nice, happy spot to settle and all our problems would work themselves out.

They didn't. In fact, door after door after door began to close. For months I have wondered why God had allowed our lifestyle to go from comfortable to incredibly UNcomfortable so quickly. Did he not love us? Did he not care?

It wasn't until a few days ago that all of these closed doors started making sense. I found an old journal I kept when I was in college and just opened it. I wasn't wanting to reminisce and read the whole thing. I just...opened it. The entry that stared at me was the one in which I gushed about sitting on Mars Hill, hearing that message, and KNOWING that I was called to give my life to serving Him on the mission field. I read the words written by an excited and zealous young girl who trusted her safety and security to a sovereign and supreme God.

Okay, God. Okay. You win. I'm tired of fighting it.

Why had our lives suddenly taken a turn from comfort to chaos? I'll tell you why. God was trying - no, IS trying - to get my attention. So here I am, waving the white flag.

I had used every excuse imaginable to put off avoid what I knew in my heart was right.


The Bible tells us that to follow Christ we have to give up everything.
"Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head....Follow me and let the dead bury their own dead." Matthew 8:20,22

Brian challenged me yesterday to weigh every excuse I have for not surrendering to missions against scripture. He's a sneaky punk because he knew what I would find to be true: No excuse I have is good enough to forsake the call that I know I was given. Not even my child, considering I prayed the same prayer over him when he was born that Hannah prayed over Samuel: "...I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life..." (1 Sam. 1:11)

So there you have it. I confess to you that I have wrongfully deviated from God's will because I have been insanely selfish. And now, I'm confessing that I am tired of fighting it.

So what does all of this look like in our lives? Well, for us this means moving out of Memphis. We are packing up everything we have, selling/getting rid of a lot of stuff we own, and beginning the journey of seeing this calling out, I suppose.

As of next weekend, we will be living in Booneville, MS...with my parents. (Cue raised eyebrows from select few) -- We are using the next few months as a means to regroup. Brian is going to finish going to school this semester and graduate with his M.Div. (FINALLY) in May. In the meantime, I anticipate that we will start making preparations to go as soon as the Lord opens the door - whether that's immediately after Brian graduates or years down the road. We just know that Memphis is no longer the place for us. It's a distraction and will inevitably lead to an even further delay of following our call.

To the world, this move is a sign of weakness. No one really WANTS to move in with their parents - especially when they have a family of their own. But what I thought was a last resort has really proven to be the Lord leading us right where He wants us. We will be able to truly decipher what our next move is, hopefully chip away at our debt (dagnabbit, student loans!!), and prepare ourselves for the eventual and inevitable next step. I can't really tell you what that means. I can only tell you that we are sure that this is the right move for now.

I was afraid to tell people about this move, fearing that they would judge us or think we are incapable of taking care of ourselves. The truth is, we are! The truth is, while we've tried to take control, Jesus has swiftly broken us and undone all that we've done for the purpose of refocusing our lives. I see it now. And I am SO glad He's done it. So don't pity us, world. We aren't sad to be leaving our things. "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."


I don't know what the next few months look like. Brian may take a job - whether church or secular - while we wait on the Lord to officially send us. We may find ourselves in a new town once more in the meantime. I just know that I'm giving up all that I wanted so that he can do "exceedingly abundantly more than all we ask or imagine according to His great power that is at work in us" (Eph. 3:20).


And the truth is, he wants to do that for all his children. He doesn't want us to settle for what we deem comfortable or good. The call to follow Christ means radical living. It means doing things that make the world scratch its head in confusion. It may mean giving up your possessions. It may mean being homeless. It may mean living with your parents for a while (FREE DINNER, THOUGH!). Whatever it means, don't be afraid. The Sovereign God of the universe has a purpose and a plan for you. And you can be assured that it is better than anything you could have ever imagined. All you have to give up is everything. :)

So there you have it. That's what He's doing in our lives.
He's breaking it. It's SO uncomfortable. And yet, it's so exciting.


"Do we really believe He is worth abandoning everything for? Do you and I really believe that Jesus is so good, so satisfying, and so rewarding that we will leave all we have and all we own and all we are in order to find our fullness in Him? Do you and I believe Him enough to obey Him and to follow Him wherever He leads, even when the crowds in our culture - and maybe in our churches - turn the other way?"  David Platt, Radical (p.18-19)

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art 

When I grow up.

The other day, I was texting my friend Laura. Somewhere in the course of the conversation, we got to talking about teaching and I told her that I wasn't even sure anymore if I was supposed to be a teacher. That's kind of unfortunate seeing as that I just earned my $20,000 masters degree in education (side note: all monetary donations for the purposes of paying off loans/eating more Taco Bell are accepted). But you know, whatever. Laura asked me what I wanted to do with my life if it wasn't teaching.

"I want to have lunch with new people everyday. And blog."

Now, I realize that this is not really a REAL career or job, per se. (If it is a real job, holler at your girl.)

To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to do with my life - in the way the world sees "doing something with your life", that is.

After college, I thought I was going to a be PR/Marketing specialist. And for a small time, I was. Aaaaand, I hated it. So, that was a bust. Then, I got the genius idea of becoming an English/Theatre teacher. I mean, I loved students so why not impart my knowledge Michelle Pfeiffer/Dangerous Minds style on some kiddos in a high school classroom? So for a while, I did. I even went to an expensive private university to get my masters to boost my skills in the classroom. Aaaaand, here I sit. Not in a classroom. Instead, I'm in my pjs, watching my little boy fuss at his stuffed giraffe for not continuously singing the alphabet song. It's really a fantastic job and one that I desired from the moment I found out I was pregnant. But I still can't help but wonder what my life will amount to? What can I DO to make an impact in this life?

My best friend Lindsay and I have lately talked a lot about purpose and direction. She said it best through a text message the other day: "I want my life to count, ya know?" - (This is coming from one who dropped everything to serve Jesus in Ghana -- c'mon, girl. You know you're making it count :) 

I know that this place I'm in is because God has called me to be here. It makes no financial sense for me to stay home. But God made it so very evident that this is right where He wants me.

I know what I'm really battling is worldly desires. My flesh wants more things - new furniture, a new car, a new house, a billion new purses... I see my friends making big purchases and going on extravagant vacations to places I've never heard of. I covet. I'm human.

Getting down to the nitty gritty, though, I realize that this life I'm living right now is EXACTLY what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. It's a humble one. And The Lord knows I could use a large dose of humility. Diaper duty, cleaning the kitchen, laundry, cooking, sweeping, mopping... loving on my baby, being the best wife I can be... THAT'S what God has called me to: for this season in life, at least.

The greatest part in all of this self-discovery is truly feeling the presence of God in the day-to-day stuff. Even in the most mundane tasks, I feel like God is truly pleased with what I'm doing. At the same time, I feel him knitting together something exciting for the very near future.

I guess all this is to say that I am coming to realize that God can use anyone to make any kind of impact. Whether it's through a young woman serving sacrificially in Africa, a teacher standing before a room full of chaotic students, or even a mama changing her kid's fifth dirty diaper in three hours. :)

Wherever you are, wherever He has placed you - be there. 100%. When we allow ourselves to relax in the roles he has placed us in, we see Him moving. We see purpose in the confusion.

When I grow up, I want my life to matter. And it's because of Christ that I realize it already does.

Beauty.

(photo credit to my friend, Amanda Hill - www.amphotography.us)
This photograph made me realize something.  -- Some days - no, most days, I don't like myself.

Having a healthy self-image is something I've always struggled with. I went to school with beautiful girls who always caught the eyes of the beautiful boys. In college, my campus was flooded with gracious and outstandingly gorgeous girls. I never thought I was ugly. I just never thought I was special. And, sadly, I still carry that thought around with me on occasion in the present.

Like seemingly every other woman in the world, when I look in the mirror, I don't like what I see. I'm either too pale or my hair is too flat, blah blah blah. When I am shown a photograph of myself much like that one above, I'm  not comfortable with what I see. My smile is crooked and my jaw is very strong, and I am fully aware of these features when taking pictures, so the awkwardness just BEAMS through as I try to figure out how to hide all this. When I'm in a crowd, I'm incredibly conscious of the other women around me and how beautiful they are in comparison.

Being married to a youth minister, I am constantly surrounded by or among stunning, beautiful young girls who don't have stretch marks or flabby stomachs left behind from pregnancy. They live up to the name by which we categorize them: youth. They have it. And with each passing day, I can see where I am not quite as youthful or pretty or skinny as I once was.

Things like this cause me to cower down and become a shell of who I feel I really am. And you know what? That is wrong.

The truth is, my husband thinks I'm beautiful. My baby boy thinks I'm the greatest thing on this earth - just watch him smile at me, you'll see it too. I can tell by my parents smiles when I first see them on our visits that they are proud of me. I'm blessed with in-laws who graciously love me as their own. I am not the lowly person I perceive myself to be.

Most importantly, and the truth that hit me slap in the face this morning is: I am perfect in the eyes of my Creator.

Psalm 139 reminds me that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Ephesians 1 tells me that The Lord finds pleasure in calling me His child. I am part of a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, seated with Him in the heavenlies.

I have worth because a worthy God instilled it in me as a child in His kingdom.

If I could tell any young girl just one thing, it would be to never, ever, ever allow yourself to give in to the game of comparisons. The enemy will use that against you and shatter your self-worth which can lead down destructive roads. Know that there is always going to be someone who is better than you in some way. That doesn't diminish who you are. That just makes us different. As a daughter of Christ, we should meditate on the fact that we have worth in Him. Ephesians 1 tells us we have been given every spiritual blessing by the Father. He has blessed you, He has chosen you. That makes you more valuable than you could ever fathom! And that value is weighted by the Creator of the universe.

I'm telling this to myself today. I am beautiful and valuable and worthy because He made me that way. I may never grace the cover of a magazine or fit back into those jeans from junior year in college. My smile will never be perfect and I'll always be clumsy. But I am loved by some pretty incredible people just as I am. And I am the product of an amazing, gracious God. There is beauty in that!

The truth, according to a First Timer.

I'm not even sure how to begin this blog post. I could have some quippy jokes or funny little anecdotes, but what I really want to do is first address the parents-to-be:

THEY HAVE TOLD YOU NOTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW!

That's right. Everyone you've talked to has either lied to you or kept the secrets of parenthood from you for the sole purpose of getting sick, twisted pleasure from watching you suffer through discovering them.

That's why I'm here today.

Ladies and gentlemen, babies are something else. Obviously, they're adorable and bring your lives more joy than you ever dreamed possible (yada, yada). It's true. They do. But there's a dark side to babies - way past the urban legends of parents not getting any sleep. It's much more than that.

So I'm here to describe to you my findings: my journey into the abyss of parenting -- the things no one told me.

The Breastfed Baby:
My baby is a breastfed baby. It's not that I didn't know anything about breastfeeding going into this. I read the books. I watched the videos. I perused website after website. But no woman in my immediate family, to my knowledge, has ever breastfed. So, I didn't really have any first-hand experiences to prepare me for the inside world of breastfeeding.

To begin with: THEY NEVER STOP EATING!!! (It seems)

That's right. Your breastfed baby might as well become a permanent attachment on your bra. Just pack him down in there and go about your day. It seems to be the only logical way. I knew that breastfed babies ate more than formula babies. But for MY baby - he eats about every hour and a half -- from the time he started eating. So, if Jacob starts eating at 9 AM, he'll be eating again by 10:30. Even if it took him 45 minutes to eat. THAT LEAVES YOU NO TIME TO BRUSH YOUR TEETH OR SHOWER OR EVEN HOPE TO LOOK REMOTELY CUTE FOR YOUR SPOUSE WHEN HE RETURNS HOME FROM WORK!
Yikes. Most moms are blessed with babies that are on a 2 1/2-3 hour schedule so they get to do things like go to Target, go to lunch with friends, and go to the bathroom. My little piggy is not so giving.

Also: GROWTH SPURTS EXIST AND COME STRAIGHT FROM THE PITS OF HADES.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I didn't read ENOUGH, but no one explained the horror of growth spurts to me. Lasting anywhere from a few days to even a week (or longer, WHO KNOWS?!), this is pretty much self-explanatory. Your baby is growing quickly and has to make up for it by - you guessed it - eating even MORE. MORE EATING. NOOOOOO! For Jacob, this has meant eating every hour on the hour. Yep. Starts at 10. Eats for 30 minutes. Wants to eat again at 11... KID, I HAVE GOT TO PUT ON DEODORANT AT SOME POINT TODAY! When Jacob hits them, he likes(demands) to be held more, too. It's exhausting. My advice to mamas-to-be? Have a whole bunch of movies and chips and dip ready cause you aren't going anywhere for a few days, sucker.

Next on the list: THE GUY DOESN'T HAVE TO DO SQUAT.

Okay, that's not entirely true. Brian can change a diaper like a world-champion and he's pretty excellent at getting monster burps out of our little dude. But since mama is the one with the food, she's the one doing the MOST work - notice I didn't say MOST OF THE work. Your man can load the dishwasher and the washing machine -- if he remembers they exist. And trust me, once he's getting down to the bare minimum on undies, he'll remember.

In addition: TARGET BECOMES A FAINT MEMORY.

That's right. You get little bit fed and burped and in his car seat, thinking you're gonna pack in a lovely trip to Target just for a few things and *maybe* a new throw pillow (deny, deny, deny the buy when hubby asks though). So you get your little cooing bundle of joy to Target and put the car seat in the cart. You're strolling along, picking up necessities first (just in case, you know?) and decide that maybe you can take a peek at the bathing suits (like you're going anywhere this summer HAHA). The minute you pick up that cute little tankini that JUST so happens to be on sale - WHAMBAM - Baby is no longer amused by Target. You do what any parent would do - try to comfort and coo and all that good stuff, all while ignoring the looks of disgust from old lady McGee who probably thinks you're abusing your kid. (Why she is in the bathing suit section is beyond me.) You're not just gonna leave over one crying session, right? But then, you notice the clock and see that time enough has indeed passed for little piggy to be hungry again. Bye, bye, Target. Off to the imprisonment chambers of lactation once more.

Throwing this one in: NURSING COVERS - SWEET SALVATION?

Nursing covers were invented for breastfeeding mamas to be able to have a life outside of the home with their babies beside them. They keep us from having to show too much skin. You know, God forbid a mama nurse her baby and let a little side boob show. People will have a fit. Never mind that she is feeding on the bench right in front of Victoria's Secret where the window models are showing WAY more than she does. In comes the cover. Just throw it on and nurse your kid and no one will even give you a second glance. Wrong. People can still be jerks. Most won't say anything but you can still tell by their stares that they want to know WHY you aren't feeding that baby at home. (Refer them to my first point.) Also? They're kind of hard to get used to. Just call me Captain Awkward with mine because I'm still far from graceful using them. Oh well. A mama's gotta get out.

There's so much more I could add. But I'm finding most of my issues are coming from breastfeeding. I'll be honest, I've thought about quitting so many times. I've been tempted to open the cans of formula I do have around the house (the free samples, not that I've bought any). But, in my heart, I know that I'm doing what's best for my baby. Formula can't hold a candle to breastmilk. This is called sacrifice, my friends. Yes, I would love to go out on a date longer than 45 minutes with Brian. I'd love to be able to hand over the middle of the night feeding to him or Mom or whoever is visiting.

But the fact of the matter is, this is exactly how God intended it to be. As a mother, I was designed to be able to nourish my child. Women have been doing it for centuries and I can stick this out, knowing at the end that I did something selfless and wonderful for my growing baby. (And hey, it's a free meal for him!)

All in all, I could have it so much worse. I mean, have you seen my kid? He's gorgeous. (No seriously. He is.) He sleeps so well at night. He's easy to manage during the day (barring a few fussy days, but that's life). He doesn't have colic or anything that makes him a terror. Yes, I've cried a lot of days but that's because I'm just trying to figure MYSELF out in this new role of motherhood.

I know that eventually, I'll be a pro at all this I've complained about. I'm already leaps and bounds ahead of where I was when we first began. Sooner or later, I won't care who's ogling me as I feed him in a restaurant and go about life as usual. And my family and friends who are uncomfortable with that will just have to get used to it. Life goes on.

But for those of you first timers who are about to embark on this wonderful, frustrating, amazing journey - just be warned: things will come at you that nobody and no book will honestly tell you about. Just go with the flow. Embrace the scent of spit-up and the messy up-do. Your life isn't about you anymore, anyway. Warn your husbands, though. And give the no-shower, no-makeup routine a test drive before baby arrives. If you're blessed like I am, he could care less.

I look forward to thing slowing down and a nice schedule starting to emerge with this kid. But until then, I'm just gonna put on the same outfit for the third day in a row, scarf down my lunch before baby wakes up, and say COME AT ME, PARENTING. I GOT THIS.