Just Do it... Traveling With Young Kids

Having had numerous traveling experiences with my two little ones I thought I'd share some tips that have really helped me along the way.

1. Just do it. Don't let the idea of traveling with young kids intimidate you. There will be tough moments, but it's worth it.

2. Start them young. We went on our first traveling adventure when our daughter was only 5 months old. She's almost 3 now and seems like a seasoned pro. She can do long bus rides, plane rides, boat tours, hiking trails, you name it. 

3. Use what you got. Don't get weighed down with random toys. It's amazing how entertaining an empty water bottle can be for a 6 month old.

5. Show your children grace. After 5 hours of hiking through a jungle and checking out some ancient ruins, it makes sense that your 3 year old is throwing a tantrum at lunch. Don't let that one tantrum make you forget abut the 5 hours of awesome that she just was.

4. Spend a little more on the hotel. You'll be spending a decent amount of time there with nap breaks and resting. Spend the extra buck or 2 and get the hotel with the pool.

The Heaviness of Raising a Girl

A sweet friend at work is pregnant with her first child and just found out she is having a girl. After the initial congratulations, I asked her how she was feeling about it.

She told me that she was scared. She was excited, but scared.

Having a daughter just seemed so much heavier of a job for a mama.

Not the physical running around part, but the day to day interactions, the desire to instil a positive self-confidence in this little being; to raise up a young woman who respects herself and knows she is beautiful.

As my own daughter begins to transition from toddler to little girl, I am faced with this reality. How am I portraying the idea of a woman to her? How am I describing beauty to her? How am I lifting her up in a way that fosters a confident and positive strong will? When I write it all out, it does seem all that more heavy.

All the sudden, we as mothers of little girls, are forced to examine how we view ourselves. What is the self-image I am projecting? Because she is watching.

Everyday, she is watching her mama. She is listening to what I say, whether it's about her, someone else, or myself. She is watching me put on my makeup and brush my hair. She watches my interactions with her dada. How I let him stop me each night in my dish washing frenzy and hold me for just a few seconds.

I want so badly for her to have a strong sense of self, to have a positive self-image, to know she is truly and deeply loved and to know that what she looks like on the outside will never change that.

I don't ever want her to think that she needs to change herself to fit in, or to look just right in order to please others. She is already just right the way she was made.

This world will try to sway her and TV and movies will try to tell her what is beautiful, but in all of that I hope she remembers her mama.

I hope she remembers all those days of messy hair and no makeup. The days where the clothes didn't matter and flip flops worked just fine. The days where her dada showed her tired mama that he loved her in all her realness in front of a sink full of dirty dishes.

Because this is what I have control over. I have control over how I view myself; how I portray myself; and it matters.

Not just for me, but for her.

To My Children

Dear Isabela and Morgan,

This Mother's Day, I have the honor of writing to you both, my two children.

My children. That phrase sounds so beautiful, doesn't it?

Maybe not to you, but to me it makes my heart well up with a feeling of love and grace.

Grace. This is something I pray for daily. I pray that I show you grace in the day to day; but also, I pray that you are able to learn how to show it to others. Your dad and I happen to be some of the others to which I speak. 

We both love you two so deeply, but daily we fail in some way or another to show you the complete love that we feel in our hearts. This is where that grace comes in.

I pray that you learn this kind of loving and forgiving unbiased grace through your dad and I's interactions with you and with each other. I pray that you learn it from your grandparents who love you in a way even I can't comprehend. I pray you learn it from your school teachers as they guide you in growing your mind and your attitude.

I pray that you learn it through your friendships, as some will let you down and others will build you up. I pray that you learn it through your community, however big or small.

I pray for these things because I know how great it is to have grace shown to me. It has been shown to me through your dad, my family, my school teachers, my friends and my communities; but above all, it has been shown to me through the love of God. He is our standard on this and I am forever thankful for that.

Isa, my daughter, your strength in mind and spirit blow me away. My heart gets so full when I see the little girl that you are quickly becoming. Your confident tone and your sweet empathetic attitude towards others are amazing to see. You have such an endearing heart for others. When I think about who your will become and who you already are I get goosebumps. I can't believe you are mine.

Morgan, my boy. My boy. I just love saying that. I love that when you snuggle with me, you sink your entire weight into my shoulder. It's a mix between wrestling and nuzzling. I love the way you watch your sister. I can already tell how much you love her. You are such a mellow little guy. You like to take everything in. You already have such a gentle spirit. I am so excited to watch you grow.

Kids, I love you so much. It's this crazy kind of love that has taught me that I can be so much more patient than I thought; so much stronger and so much kinder; so much better. Thanks for allowing me the opportunity to experience this kind of love.

In His Grace,
Your Mom

Wobbly Legs

So this is happening now....

My little man's skinny, wobbly legs learning to hold themselves up.

That's me next to him half smiling, half freaking out, sure that he might come crashing to the ground at any second.

Pretty sure big sister over there doesn't understand what all the fuss is about.

It's ridiculous how much I love that little face.

Better Health and Babies

Doesn't that sound like a great magazine name?

My little boy has decided it's time to join the big boys and is now sitting up on his own. At a skinny 7 months old, it's hard to believe that he's more than half way to being 1.

My first baby has decided she is no longer be a baby, let alone toddler anymore. Apparently, according to some mommy website, once they hit age 3 they are no longer called toddlers, but preschoolers. Which is basically telling me to brace myself, because I am about to have a full on little girl.

Crazy.

Parenthood is long days, short years.... so true.

In other news, I have spent a week spearheading the Kitchin Family Health Initiative... or simply put, eating better and exercising.  We weren't eating terribly unhealthy before, but there was little variety and lots of carbs (think pastas and breads... all the time).

So, I went into my recipes board in pinterest and decided to give some of those pretty pictures a try. I made a grocery list and meal plan for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

And I actually COMMITTED.

We've had a week of healthy meals with tons of whole foods and variety. Isa is eating everything  I put on her plate, which equals.... amazing!

I'm actually starting to see some muscle definition on my 2 baby stomach thanks to Jillian Michaels and her 6 week 6 pack series. I totally recommend this video if you're looking to rebuild strength and muscle. I basically started with none and am really starting to see results just 2 weeks into it. Plus, I just feel better.

Not so much when doing the work out. When doing the workout I often feel like collapsing and/or throwing up.... but worth it. Really.

That's it for now in this edition of BHB. I'll be sure to post some recipes soon.

Day by Day

Princess crowns next to baseball caps, piles of laundry yet to be put away because you're too busy playing with a curious baby, spring flowers that greet you as you walk in the door, a husband who likes to cook while watching the Daily Show, and a little girl who I sometimes catch daydreaming. Real life is so beautiful in its simplicity.

He is Risen

He is Risen Indeed! Happy Easter from our family to yours.

Wisdom

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

-Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"

Blessed by those who have lived more life than me; who have offered the world their wisdom. I take this bit of wisdom to heart this quiet morning with my coffee and baby boy.

For When you Don't Feel Awesome

Every night as I tuck my 2 year old daughter into bed I say the same few sentences to her:

You are beautiful. You are smart. You are special. You are awesome. You're the best daughter in the world.

And each night, without fail, she repeats each sentence in confident agreeance.

I am beautiful. I am smart. I am special. I am awesome. I'm the best daughter in the world.

I pray she holds these phrases close as she navigates her way through this world.

But do I hold these phrases close?

Could I say these things about myself without shyly lowering my head after each one?

What about on those days, weeks, months, when I don't feel awesome.

Awesome is defined as "inspiring awe."

Do I really believe I inspire awe in others, that I feel it in myself? It's hard to feel awe-inspiring when you're going through the motions.

So, how do I stop going through the motions? How do I remember my own awesomness and let it exude?

How do I confidently respond to that phrase?

I am awesome.

First, I need to say it. Not in some, oh man, check me out, everyone. If you haven't noticed my awesomeness then, man, you're missing out.

I need to say it in an understanding that I was created to be awesome, to pursue awesomeness. Then I need to believe it.

I am thankful for this girl; who believes without a doubt in her own awesomeness.

Quarter Life

Lately I've had a feeling of unrest creeping up inside of me. My soul is shaky and I'm afraid it's showing in my stride. I try and walk carefully, thinking about each step before I take it, but I'm still landing a bit unbalanced.

I've been struggling through the why of this for the last week or so and I've concluded that I'm having a bit of an identity crisis.... a quarter life crisis if you will.

I'm 27 years old, a mother of two, a wife of 4 and a half years, a teacher still fresh in her career and an American living in Mexico, speaking imperfect Spanish on a daily basis. I'm making dinner, doing dishes, letting laundry build up, grading papers, dealing with students, attempting to grow a 2.5 year old and care for an infant, all the while trying not to forget that I have a husband who needs time and attention and a marriage that needs looking after.

BAM.

There's more, but I'm tired of thinking about it all. The part of that short paragraph that has been pulling at me over the last few months is the 27-year-old with 2 kids part. 

I'm young. I see my friends who are the same age living the single life, working through new living situations, new jobs, finding their niche; exploring, discovering who they are.

I see other moms out there living this so called "mom life." Most of them stay home. They are caring for their kids, cleaning the house, finding new recipes on Pinterest; fully occupied with caring for their family.

Neither of these people are me and yet, I so badly want to fit into one of these categories.

The thing is, I am not a single 20-something finding her niche. I am not a stay-at-home-mom, focused fully on caring for her family. I am this 20-something working mom.

I love my kids. I love my husband. Sometimes I wish I could go out all night and not have to worry about the next morning, or the 3am feeding. 

I like to look at recipes on Pinterest and write down a weekly meal plan with a hint of hope that those meals might actually get made (they often don't). 

The truth is, I envy my single friends. They have so much room to discover who they are; to spend the careful time it takes to reflect, to grow. 

I envy my mom friends who seem so confident in their role as mother, wife, homemaker.

Sometimes I wonder what I am doing wrong.

When saying all of this to my husband the other day, he simply said, yeah, but we're not any of those things. We aren't the norm. We're the exception.

He lit up as he said this. 

He went on to say, we live in Mexico, we visit ancient ruins, see swarms of butterflies over the weekend. This is our life.

He loves our life.

Why am I having such a hard time feeling the same love.

Don't get me wrong. I love my kids deeply. They are a part of me; a limb, my heartbeat.

I love my husband deeply. He is my adventurer; my handholder.

But I want to feel the love for my life. For where I am and who I am. 

If I'm completely honest, I'm just not there right now. I'm in process. 27 is young to know who you are and where you fit.

I'm still trying to figure it out; actually I feel like I'm just starting to try and figure it out. I have this urge to know, or at least to have an idea.

For right now I'm unsteady. I'm working through it, and I know that's OK. I'm allowed this time, as long as I use it wisely; productively. Time is not something to be taken lightly. 

So I'll use it. I will take on it's responsibility and begin to find my niche.

Running a Marathon

Currently, life feels like a marathon.

I've never run a marathon, but I've talked to people who have. They say that they make it all right through the first 23 miles or so, but that once they hit the last three they feel like it just might be impossible to go on.

Their bodies begin to shut down and each stride is like another mile in of itself.

Right now I feel like I'm running my last three miles.

My body wants to give out and my muscles are aching.

I remember this feeling during the first few months after Isabela was born. She had colic and would cry for hours on end with no end in sight; all while James and I took turns trading off rocking and bouncing every 15 minutes.

While the crying is less this time around, the three mile stretch is still before us. Two kids is so much harder than one.

They tell you this, but those naive one-child-parents never seem to believe it. I know. I was one of them.

Two full-time working parents and one who's finishing a masters degree adds another layer of exhaustion to the run.

I'm not sure what it is that gets runners to push through these last three miles.

The fact that they're so close.

The intrinsic motivation that tells them to go, go, just a little bit further.

I'm straining to find that motivation.

Go.

Go.

Just a little bit further.

Because it does eventually get easier. The run eventually becomes a walk. Your body will adjust and cool down.

In the mean time, loved ones will cheer from the sidelines and someone will offer you water as you pass them by.

If we're smart we grab that water and soak in the cheers.

                                                     How amazing are these faces

Painting Pumpkins

www.mysweetsavannah.blogspot.com

It's the first day of October and every blog you read right now has something to say about fall.

Fall is the season that gets even the anti-domestic woman into some kind of pumpkin painting, mantel decorating, pinterest-obsessed frenzy. I admit, I somewhat fall into this category.

The thing is, I lose steam pretty quickly, as in, I was super excited to try out a pinterest idea a few days ago, and now as I sit here with my oldest at preschool, a sleeping infant next to me and a pile of laundry to tackle, I've suddenly lost all desire to accomplish said project.

I hop back and forth between wanting to be some domestic goddess and just wanting to watch a movie with a cup of coffee in hand. I only get so many opportunities for the coffee that when I have a moment or two of down time it tends to win out.

I keep reading blogs about how having a put together organized home with scented candles lit and contemporary Christian music playing in the background seems to create a comfort that benefits the whole family (I may have added the Christian music thing; it just seemed fitting).
And this concept attempts to pull me in. But it just doesn't seem to stick.

My desire for a comfy put together home with cute cheveron painted pumpkins on my front table looses it's allure when I realize that my 2-year-old will just think it's a new toy to play with and my husband won't even notice.

So are the pumpkins just for me?

As for a comfy home, I have a 2-year-old who thinks our stained second hand couches are like fluffy clouds she gets to sink into while watching Elmo and a husband who enjoys the fact that he can put his feet up without worrying about getting anything dirty.

We have a dog who gets to lay next to us on the couch and an infant who has no idea what a couch is anyway.

So I guess my house is already put together, just not at face value.

This fall I'm choosing to kick that domestic goddess to the curb and embrace the comfort my family creates in my home sans scented candles and contemporary Christian music.

Home

We are home.

Our family of four is snug in our little casa and it feels so good.

We are so in love with our little guy, it's unbelievable. I knew all along this feeling of love would come, that it would be possible to love another child as much as I loved my first, but to actually see it and feel it happening still swells my heart.

We are so thankful that things went so smoothly this time around.
Our little story goes like this:

We arrived to the hospital early Saturday morning, the 8th, for our scheduled c-section. We checked in, I was prepped for surgery and wheeled into the operating room. James was right there with me, holding my hand, and an hour later, Morgan arrived.

He came out screaming and continued to do so while the doctors cleaned him up and swaddled him. We got to meet out little guy at 8:55am. He came to 6 pounds, 7 ounces and 19 inches tall.

They took Morgan to the nursery and I was taken to recovery for a couple hours. Once I got back into my room they brought us the baby and James, Morgan and I enjoyed our first hours as a threesome.

My recovery went so well this time. I was definitely worried because when I had my emergency c-section with Isabela, my recovery was terrible. I developed an infection while in the hospital which not only created great amounts of pain for me, but put stress on our newborn.

This time, though, I was able to get my anesthesia out on the first day and start walking around. We only needed to stay two nights and then got to come home.

I am now resting upstairs, as I am only allowed to go up and down the stairs one time a day. I am still in a bit of pain, but it is completely tolerable. I can feel myself healing and getting better as each day passes.

Though he is only 4 days old, Morgan has been such an easy baby. He sleeps most of the time, but has his moments of awake when he opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. I absolutely love these moments when I can see his beautiful eyes.

So far, he only cries when he is hungry and once fed, he's content and calm. It's incredible!
After experiencing colic with Isabela, James and I feel like we are in a dream with this boy. It can't really be this easy... although I shouldn't speak too soon, he's only 4 days old after all.

We are all doing so well and are getting adjusted to life as a family of four. Isabela is adjusting as well and has good moments and some hard ones. It is hard for her not to have me hold her and it is hard for me not to. I am used to being so active with her, so this is a change for both her and I. But, as her daddy explained it, mommy has an owie and has to rest right now. That seemed to make sense to her and she has been doing better with it.

I will end this post with a beautiful moment that happened this morning. James was holding Isa's hand to take her to school and before she walked out the door she stopped, let go of his hand, ran over to Morgan and gently kissed his foot, then ran back to her daddy, grabbed his hand and said bye bye before heading out the door.

My heart is full.

You're Coming

Baby Boy,

You're coming.

There's no denying it.

Not that I was denying it, but for some reason I hadn't let it sink in until now, about a week before you're scheduled to arrive.

I'll be honest, I was worried about my lack of excitement for your presence.

I was worried that my heart was already as full as it could possibly be with the love I have for your daddy and your sister.

I remember with your sister how I would sit in her room for hours just looking around, folding her clothes. I was in awe of this being.

I realize now that some of my lack of excitement comes from a lack of time or energy. I don't have the luxury of sitting in your room for hours staring in wonder.

Instead, my wonder over you has come about by holding my newborn nephew, your cousin, in my arms last week.

As I held this tiny baby boy in my arms, I felt it. This longing to meet you, to hold you, to begin this journey in knowing you.

I can feel my heart expanding; making room.

It's creating a space just for you. It has your name and shape in it.

I can already see your brown hair, your wrinkled newborn skin, your grey eyes.

Those tiny toes that don't look possible.

Morgan, my boy, you are so loved by your mamma. You are so cherished by your dada.

You are so anticipated by your sister.

I thank God for this ability to love more; for the heart's ability to grow. It's incredible.

Love and Marriage

 

Today I found this blog Stay Forever Sunday via Pinterest. It is an honest blog about a young woman who is married with two young kids. She writes about her life, her relationships, her kids and some random day to day things.

I was engaged by her style of writing, her casual and honest vibe, and so I read through some of her old posts.

That's when I stumbled upon this one on Marriage
 
She writes about her marriage since having children; the tough parts, the strain that is sometimes there. She writes about how in having and raising children you do lose a part of yourself and your relationship to the time and effort it takes in bringing up another human being.

She writes about the loss of connection that can occur between a husband and a wife and that it is in those times that frustrations can flare.

And then she writes: "But when anger flashes in my eyes, when frustration flies from your lips, I am never scared. Because we built this house of our marriage to withstand a rainstorm, a flood, wind and limbs and leaves. You laid the bricks and I poured the mortar. And I know that one of us will walk away. and we both will breath. and always, every single time, I’ll find that place in the curve of your body that God made just to shelter me."

I feel as though she has put so beautifully into words how I feel in my marriage since having children. I love my husband; I cherish him; we fight, sometimes we yell, there have been some f-bombs thrown every now and then; and yet, I am never scared. I know this is the man who I love more than anyone and who I know loves me more than anyone. We have chosen each other and this life together; all that it includes.

The tired days, the frustrations, the mess that can sometimes build up.

****************

In these summer days when I am home all day I often find myself on Facebook, looking into the lives of other young couples raising young children and I will see what looks like always happy smiling faces, never crying babies, beautiful women, handsome men, adorable babies in adorable outfits; and I will think, wow, it all looks so perfect.

It is hard in those moments not to realize that this is only a cover to their stories. There is so much inside, and by no means is it all perfect. They are real, just as I am.

Life is hard, marriage is work and raising children is comparable to climbing a mountain.
But it's all one giant mountain with the most beautiful view. In this climb you get glimpses of the surrounding beauty and it reminds you why you are doing it; why it is so incredibly worth it.
I am so beyond thankful for my view

This Man

 
There once was a boy with hair down to his shoulders and a lip ring who once set an accidental fire on a stage while in college.

There once was a boy who dressed up as a girl and pranced down "caf lane" (the main drag of our college campus) in an attempt to win the "Young Hall Beauty Pageant."

There once was a boy who ran for Student Body President because he believed he could make a change.

This same boy is now a man. He is a man who has since cut his hair, taken out his lip ring, and now wears jeans with button down shirts.

He is a man who asked me to marry him while sitting on a rock watching the sun set over the Pacific Ocean.

He is a man who told me in his vows on our wedding day that "in his lifelong quest to love others, I would always be his first other."

This man still desires to make a change in this world. His aspirations have expanded and his experiences have made him wiser.

He is my husband, my friend, and the father of our daughter.

Seeing this man's love for our little girl is beyond my wildest dreams.

He has grown my ability to love and has widened his own on our journey through parenthood.
I am thankful beyond words for this man.

Happy Father's Day.

She Knows

 

There are days when my impatience with my daughter seems to exceed my calm.

There are days when I sit at work and cry because I did not get to see her morning face.

There are days when I have my computer open more often then it's closed while she plays.

But on the sam,e day, I can whisper in my daughter's ear that I love her and have her whisper back in my ear, "I wub to" doing this at least 10 times while she smiles a huge happy grin.

On the same day I can hold her and rock her before bed time as she lays her small head on my shoulder and attempts to wrap her toddler arms around mine.

On the same day I can smile as she cups my face in her hands and sings a song that is in no way gibberish to her.

She knows I love her.

She knows she's special.

She knows she's cared for.

At 8:30 PM when I sit on my couch emailing/grading/looking at Facebook, this is what matters.
She knows.

Your Name

Dear Baby Boy,

Your daddy and I have officially decided upon your name.

Morgan Carl Kitchin

After lots of back and forth between two names that didn't include the one above, we just didn't feel a pull to either. Your dad had thrown the name Morgan out before, but for whatever reason, I turned it down.

After hearing your Uncle bring the name Morgan up again, I decided to look up its meaning.
Morgan means bright sea dweller.

After reading that, I was hooked. Not only is this name special because it is my family's name, it also has a connection to the sea. Your Grandpa loves the sea; he always has. He loves to sail and to be near the water. He has instilled this love inside of me as well, and so, your name is perfect.

You are our bright little sea dweller.

And even if you don't share the same love of the sea that your Mom and Grandpa do, you will always have that connection.

Carl is the last name of your Dad's Grandfather, so you will be sharing both sides; your Dad and me.
I love knowing your name and being able to call you that now. You have an identity that is ever growing and it is bringing me closer and closer to knowing you.

Love you, bud.
-Mom

Summa Summa Summa Time

It's hot.

The suns out.

Summer is so close I can almost feel what it's like to sleep past 5am, to finish a cup of coffee while watching my daughter run around with messy hair in her pj's, to not make lesson plans or grade papers.

Admittedly, it's been tough to stay motivated in my classroom. I can feel my students slowly slipping away into the lazy-day fog that is summer and I can feel myself letting them.

It happens to every teacher. This profession is hard and one of the only ways we stay sane is by taking a large break for the month of June and July. It's one of the main reasons we return to do it all over again the next school year.

This summer will be my last with just one child. I plan on relishing in my daughter and the time we will have together, knowing that come September my time with her will be even more limited.

This summer will be a special one. We are not taking some crazy whirlwind vacation. We are staying in Mexico City at home.

Staying.
Resting.

No airplanes, no road trips, no need to see everyone we possibly can.

Had you told me a year or two ago that we wouldn't be visiting friends and family in the U.S. over the summer I would have laughed in your face and said, nice try, batman.

But now, as summer approaches, I am thrilled by the idea.

This just goes to prove how much this place has become my home. It is where I feel comfortable and where I can rest.

This is where my family is.

So, cheers to warm weather, fans, being barefoot and messy 2-year-olds.

Here's an oldy but a goody to get you as pumped up as I am. You know you love it.

Joy

I saw this quote the other day and it completely caught me.

How much joy do I have in my life?

It's huge.

And yet, how often do I diminish that joy when I start comparing it to what others have.

It's so easy to create that list in my head. The list of things I wish I had or wish were different.

I almost began to type it here and then I stopped myself.

I'm not going to go there.

I'm not even going to let my fingers type it down.

Because when I allow myself to go there, to think about it, to create this list, even in the name of a blog post, I am allowing those comparisons to win.

Right now in this moment I am choosing joy. I am choosing to let that be the focus and to let that overcome those comparisons, because joy deserves it.

My joy, my daughter, my marriage, my unborn son, my bi-cultural experience; all of it deserves to be put at the forefront of my mind always.