“Mama, can I wear my ‘Punzel’ hair?”  “Mama, can I wear my “Punzel” dress?”

Those two questions have been on repeat for the past week and I’m pretty positive I’ll hear them through the end of the month. Honestly, as mind-numbing as being asked the same thing a dozen times in half an hour can be — can I really blame her?

Look at how adorable she is in her “Punzel” best. If I looked that friggin’ awesome in an ensemble I’d want to wear it all the time too.

Miss Jax is obsessed with the movie Tangled and it’s safe to say Rapunzel is her absolute favorite Disney Princess. So when it came to deciding on her Halloween costume this year it really was a no brainer.

But I really didn’t want the run-of-the-mill, packaged costume from the pop-up Halloween stores found on every corner this time of year. Jax’s costumes have to be cute and unique, yet identifiable as the character she’s dressed as.

I found exactly that with Sincerely Ryleigh Couture. The talent of Ashley B. from SRC is limitless. All her pieces are made from her custom designs, hand-sewn and too perfect for words. Her love and passion for her craft are apparent in every stitch and detail. I peruse her offerings on Instagram and get all giddy looking at her creativity come to life in these adorably precious outfits and costumes. She has a set for pretty much every Princess, plus Sofia the First, Doc McStuffins, Daisy Duck, Wonder Woman and more. She even does custom orders, allowing your imagination to run free to turn your little girl into anything or anyone she wants to be. LOVE!

Jax’s Rapunzel set comes with the top, bottom, floral headband and a special keepsake bracelet that had my daughter over the moon with excitement.

Sincerely Ryleigh Couture also created the precious mermaid swim suit Jax wore for her third birthday party. Everyone raved at how awesome it was and I knew I’d be ordering from them again soon.

It’s likely a little late in the game to order in time for Halloween at this point, but the shop offers so many cute ensembles that would be perfect for Christmas, Valentines, Easter, and birthdays. She also makes dresses and play suits ideal for every day wear and every occasion.

I’m already talking up Aurora to Jax for next year because SRC’s interpretation of Sleeping Beauty’s dress is killing me with cuteness. Oh, and Jasmine too – totally dying.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I purchased the above mentioned outfits for my daughter from Sincerely Ryleigh Couture and loved them so much I decided to feature them on my blog. I did not receive free or discounted merchandise from the company, nor was I financially compensated. All opinions stated are entirely my own. 

Now, I am not saying that only crunchy, earthy mamas breastfeed but I am saying that it’s the crunchiest thing I have done as a mother and my greatest source of pride.

When I was pregnant, breastfeeding was the one thing about impending motherhood that kept me up at night. I was adamant that I wanted to do it, yet scared that I couldn’t. I went to classes and left each one more confused about it then when I walked in. Once my sweet babe was born my lactation insecurities prevented me from getting her properly latched. I spent the first few times trying in tears and the nurses encouraged me to bottle feed until I got the hang of things. I refused. I did not want my daughter to reject my nipples for the ease of feeding from artificial ones. The hospital lactation consultants worked with me but I could not get over my insecurity. Then the last night in the hospital, alone with my sweet baby girl, she showed me the way. At just a few days old she knew what to do and I followed her lead. And at that moment we embarked on that beautiful journey of love, bonding, nurturing and joy that only breastfeeding can provide. In just a few weeks I knew her every cue, had a favorite position (football clutch), an ample supply and a chubby, healthy baby.

That chapter in our lives lasted over 38 months and as I say goodbye there is a lump in my throat and pride in my heart.

Yes, I breastfed my daughter until she was over three years-old. I never planned on nursing past any certain age – I just did what felt right. Jacquelyn thrived, and excelled, hit milestones early, rarely got sick and when she did feel under the weather it was short lived. Her immune system rocked, her skin glowed and her smile was constant. I attributed this all to my miracle milk and it was all the reassurance needed to keep going — six months, then a year, then two and neither one of us showed any signs of throwing in the towel. She still willingly latched and I still produced in copious quantities.

Our breastfeeding journey was not without bumps. A few times I wanted to stop because Jax developed a very annoying habit of touching my free nipple while she was occupied with the other. The touching morphed into pinching, then pulling, then twisting. It was irritating and often painful but with redirection and some discouraging it ceased enough to allow us to continue.

Extended breastfeeding seemed to baffle and even disgust some in my own family. My mom often told my daughter that “sucking chi-chi was gross” and I will never forget the look of horror and dismay on my sister’s face when she learned Jax still nursed at a year old. I knew others in my family and some of my friends had opinions different than my own about it as well.  My usual response when someone asked when I planned to stop nursing was something like “when she starts kindergarten,”  or “on her prom night” or “high school graduation.”

I never understood why anyone else cared. They saw that my child was completely normal and healthy, well-adjusted and thriving. I had stopped nursing her in public at around a year old, when solid foods became her primary source of nourishment, so nobody except my husband ever saw me nurse anymore; yet they still seemed bothered by it. And it didn’t stop with friends and family. At my last well woman exam my doctor gave me a puzzled stare upon learning I nursed a three year-old and encouraged me to stop. Her reason for the unwarranted advice was that my daughter only did it for comfort at that age. So what? I questioned her. “Is it impeding on my health?” She said it did not and so I simply told her to mind her own business.

Frankly, I don’t care if she or my family or anyone else approved or disapproved about how long I ended up breastfeeding my child. I don’t care that anyone thought it was gross. Or odd. Those opinions were irrelevant because it wasn’t anything but wonderful and fulfilling to us. I had the support of my husband throughout and collectively we decided I would stop nursing when and only when our daughter was ready.

It was her choice entirely to stop when she did. She was only nursing at naptime and bedtime, when she got owies, and rarely any times in between. She did, in fact, do it for comfort, but that was fine by me, she still got nourishment and antibodies and all the good stuff my body made just for her. Then one day she fell asleep without it. Then the next day she latched and quickly lost interest. I simply asked if she was done with mommy milk and with wide eyes she nodded her head — yes.

And that was it. I was happy for her and for me – we had made it, together. She let me know it was over and her simple affirming gesture made me tear up through my smile.

It’s been almost a month since La Leche Liberation and I’m all dried out now. I’m happy to have my boobs back but also a little sad that their intended purpose has come to an end. I mourn that special, sacred connection I felt to my daughter every single time she was attached to me. It makes my heart yearn to see that sweet face peering up at me, the look of absolute, sublime contentment I know she felt each and every time I fed her from my body, I felt it too. The entire experience is over and just like everything about her babyhood, so very fleeting.

But I am so damn proud of this journey, the journey that I committed to wholeheartedly. The journey that brought me such immense feelings of reassurance and helped create and maintain such a radiant being. I’m so proud of my body for enduring nature’s purpose for it and of my astute resolution to never give up even when it was hard and overwhelming and when those close to me disapproved. I saw it through to the bittersweet end, a time not of my own choosing but when the most important participant on this path was ready to end it herself. If there is one thing I am proudest of, one thing I KNOW without a doubt that I have done right as a mother it’s breastfeeding.

On the TMI front, the husband has avoided my chest like the plague for the past three years. I’m not gonna lie that I am excited that they are back in my arsenal as tools for keeping the spark ignited. Haha – just kidding. Kinda.

My boobs. My baby. Our choice. Extended breastfeeding rules!

P.S. This post is in no way meant to shame moms who formula-feed. I realize there are many reasons why some mothers can’t and don’t breastfeed and I don’t judge those reasons. What is written here is simply my feelings about my own experience with extended breastfeeding. Much love and mad respect to all moms making the best decisions for their babes and families. XO 

I was able to recycle her Wonder Woman costume from her cousin’s birthday party for a party at The Little Gym.

For trick-or-treating, I brought out the custom vest she wore for her birthday party and I added a tattoo sleeve t-shirt (found here) to edge up her uber cute Biker Chick costume.

But neither of those rivaled the supreme awesomeness of the costume I put together for the Balloon Spooktacular festival we attended the week before Halloween.

I didn’t want her to dirty her tattoo sleeve shirt and I thought the night might be a bit too chilly for her bare-armed, backless Wonder Woman costume so I wanted something different. As I laid down with her for her nap, just a couple hours before we planned to head out, I remembered the Mexican folk dress my dad gave her for her birthday. In that dress she could be a Mexican folk dancer, Rosarita of refried bean frame or Frida Kahlo. I chose the latter.

I simply wrapped the colorful flowered headbands from her clown costume from last year, around the plastic princess tiara she wears every day for the famed floral head piece. Then I drew on the unibrow with brown eyeliner.  Voila!, Jax was transformed into Frida in less than 5 minutes! She was a hit as the famous unibrowed Mexican artist and she rocked that look like it was her job. I was one proud mommy.

So much fun!

Several good friends recommended we hit up Legoland since we were going to be in Carlsbad. I did a little research and decided we should give it a try. Jax does love Legos so why not make it her first amusement park experience.

Since our vacation fell after Labor Day, it is off-season for parks and I have to tell you it is the PERFECT time to visit Legoland (or any place in SoCal for that matter). There were no lines at all, absolutely no crowds and no rush. We were able to explore all the sights, sounds and excitement at our own pace, we weren’t swept away by the masses.

I was completely wrong about Jax being too young, she loved it! She was too small for many of the rides but she was able to get on a few — her favorite being Fairy Tale Brook (a slow boat ride winding through familiar scenes from classic fairy tales – all built out of Legos) and Safari Trek (an adventure through a “jungle” filled with wild Lego animals). She also spent a good deal of time shooting balls and running around in the enclosed attraction called Pharaoh’s Revenge.

It was unseasonably warm (HOT) the day we visited and although our family resides in the desert, we are not used to humidity. The Duplo Play areas offered fabulous air conditioning and a place to relax and cool off while Jax carried on with her day of fun playing with tons of Legos. A kind woman working in the Duplo Play area gave Jax a Lego Mini which she was able to trade throughout the day with other park employees. I really thought that was a cool idea and I was totally more into trading up for cool Minis than anyone else.

The hubs and I truly marveled at all the structures and models built out of Legos. The different cityscapes and American monuments were breathtaking and so fun to see built with such detail on a miniature scale. Various scenes from Star Wars were on display and was so dang cool I felt inspired to rematch a few of the movies when we got home! It was all truly awesome and the only way to do it justice id to visit Legoland yourself. It’s amazing what can be built out of these childhood favorite toys!

The unanimous favorite of our visit was the Sea Life Aquarium at Legoland. Jax has discovered the awesomeness of the ocean through her many viewings of The Little Mermaid so she was truly mesmerized with this attraction. Had we let her, she probably would have spent the entire day gazing at the marine life in the ocean tank. She sat in wonder pointing out the sharks and rays and squealing when they came close to her area in front of the glass. She delighted when touching the Starfish in the “tide pools” and was hypnotized watching the undulating jellyfish. She threw her only tantrum of the entire trip when it was time to leave the aquarium.

There is also a water park at Legoland which was closed the day we visited but there was interactive water attractions and a splash pad in the park so I suggest packing a change of clothes and/or swim suits for the littles so they can get wet…because they will!

Our little family had a great time at Legoland and we hope to make a weekend trip there next month for their “Brick or Treat” Halloween festivities. We definitely can’t wait to bring her back for years to come with her being able to experience more and more each year!

Be sure to add Legoland to your list of adventures next time you plan a trip to the San Diego area! It’s tons of fun….or as they say at Legoland…bricks of fun!

I was not financially compensated to write this post. I received complimentary passes to Legoland to help facilitate my review. All opinions and photos within this post are entirely my own. 

We named her Jacquelyn.

We call her Jax.

Today she is two years old.

Never in my wildest dreams…in my most intimate wishes, did I ever think our child would be what she is. To say she is amazing is an understatement; to describe her as awesome wouldn’t do her justice. She is a force.

A gorgeous and silly and splendid force of nature and we’re lucky enough to be the ones to guide her to greatness.

She is Jax…and that is all there is to it. And today is her birthday.

Two years gone by way too fast but we have loved every precious moment with this girl and can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings for us as her parents. She rocks our world.

Happy birthday my glorious girl wonder. Your daddy and I love you so stinkin’ much. You bring joy and radiance to the world and we’re so very blessed to be your mommy and daddy.

Keep shining, my love, my baby. You are our world.

Jax wore this:

Wonder Woman! Lookout Linda Carter – Wonder Woman Jax is taking over.

OMGoodness! Have you ever seen anything so stinkin’ cute in your entire life?

Doubtful!

Jax’s favorite auntie, Sarah, made an appearance as Cat Woman.

Grandma Gloria was only days out of the hospital from her second knee replacement in as many months. Wonder Woman Jax worked her super powers and made GG feel better!

Wonder Woman Jax tending to a fallen party guest (she was actually trying to steal the little girl’s purse).

The Guest of Honor. My adorable nephew, Gabriel, celebrating being six dressed as “Shredder.” Who the heck is that?

Wonder Woman took a break from fighting crime to take her crown off, let her hair down and enjoy a bag of chips.

Motherhood is a blessing and it fits every woman differently. There are all sorts of moms out there. All different and unique and what unites most of us together is the love we have for the beings we bore or adopted into our lives.

The post you are going to read on my blog today was contributed by a woman named, Erika. I went to high school with her and what I remember most is her easygoing personality. She was an athlete but didn’t align herself with cliques. She was that girl who got along with everybody and in turn, everybody liked her.

I reconnected with Erika through Facebook a few years back. I saw that she was married…to a woman. She looked so happy. I enjoyed seeing the photos and updates she posted.

Then, much to my surprise, she posted an ultrasound picture announcing that she and her wife were expecting a baby girl. I about died; I was overcome with jealousy.

I was in the throes of infertility myself and everyone around me having a baby. Every time I saw someone’s announcement I’d get sick with envy. Then the least likely person I knew to ever get pregnant…was!

Do I sound like a jerk? I don’t mean to. I was happy for her but sad for me. As it turned out my time came just a few months later.

But I digress, this post is about Erika.

She and her wife are amazing mothers to their sweet little girl. That child is absolutely gorgeous and radiates a glow that tells you she is supremely loved, cherished and cared for. So what if Erika and her wife live an “alternative lifestyle?” It’s theirs to live and they are doing a damn good job with that baby!

I was touched to read that while her life is so much different than my own, we shared the same monthly disappointments on our journey to become moms, we had the same burning desire to have a child of our own. We are connected through motherhood and through our unwavering love for our child.

Read this post with an open mind; you just mind find a connection as well. Here is Erika’s story:

Believing in Fairy Tales

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away…wait, wrong story! Although, what you’re about to read is a fairytale of sorts. So, as all stories go, we’ll start at the beginning.

My name is Erika. My wife is Danielle. Yes, that’s right…we are two gals who decided to fall in love and spend our lives together. We had an incredible life, went on fantastic trips, bought a few cars and a house, got a couple of dogs (who were our babies!), and we had lots of nieces and nephews to love on and spoil. We were living the dream and we were happy!

Then, after about six years, I got the itch. Which itch you might wonder?! I started to think about something I hadn’t really thought was an option for us – having a baby.

We obviously don’t have the “equipment” to make a baby ourselves; and adoption is not an easy process, especially due to our “alternative” lifestyle. So the question of ‘how’ was playing in my mind. I’m not the most feminine of gals as all of that girly stuff goes, so there was no doubt in my mind that Danielle would put in all the “work” of growing a baby.

But there was a problem…I was ready but Danielle wasn’t. It took about a year for that itch to finally hit her too. Once it did, we didn’t waste any time! We were ready to jump in with both feet and hit the ground running; but we had no idea where to start.

Our first decision was determining where to get the other half of what makes a baby – the swimmers…so to speak. We went back and forth trying to decide whether we wanted a known or an anonymous donor.

Danielle leaned towards anonymous but I wanted to be able to tell my child where he/she came from; so I thought a known donor was best. Finally, I convinced her to go with a known donor and we were able for the next step.

Let me tell you, we have the most amazing friends in the world! We figured that since the cost of fertility clinics was pretty high, we would try the “at-home” method.

No, it’s not what you might think. There was no wine or dim, romantic lighting involved. Actually, there was no real contact with the donor at all other than the very awkward hand-off of certain supplies.

After months of no luck, we decided that we should go ahead and seek the help of medical professionals with our “project”. This included numerous doctor visits, multiple weekly tests, blood work and counseling sessions. After all of that and months of no luck, Danielle went in for a minor surgical procedure to see if there were any underlying conditions that could be preventing conception. As odd as it sounds, we were disappointed to find out that she was fine. Don’t get me wrong, we weren’t upset that Danielle was okay, we were frustrated that we didn’t have any answers as to why pregnancy wasn’t happening.

By this time, we were exhausted – mentally, emotionally and financially. Our hearts broke a little each month with the start of her cycle.  Although, we both felt defeated, Danielle wasn’t ready to give up. So we tried for a few more months before I started to wave my little white flag. We had been trying for two years and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. And with this, Danielle agreed to stop.

As it so happens, we are in the unique situation of having two uteruses (uteri?!), so we decided to switch. Getting pregnant was not anything that I had ever considered, nor did I ever think it was an option given my “better half,” but we wanted a baby so badly; I was willing to give it a shot.

Since our financial situation had taken us pretty much as far as we could go, we decided to go back to the “at-home” method. In an effort to protect our hearts, we decided that we would only try three times, and that would be it, baby or not.

We tried once…no luck. We tried twice…nothing. We tried the third and last time…and I started to spot. Assuming that it didn’t work again, we finally began to come to terms that the only babies we would have would be our pups. That would have to be okay once our hearts mended.

Then, after a few weeks, when we had finally started to put our baby fever out of our minds, something changed in me. I started to get ridiculously tired during the day…like, couldn’t make it through the day without a nap tired. And I could NOT get enough lemon…on EVERYTHING…even on spaghetti! After about a week of this, I started to think that my behavior was pretty weird, so on a whim I took a pregnancy test.

There it was – a super faint line. It was so light, that I didn’t know if it was really there or if I just wanted it to be there. I tried to put it out of my head and go back to work. Easier said than done – I took another test later that day. Still a faint line.

I knew that we had one more test at home, so I decided to test again first thing in the morning. I took the test as soon as I woke up and this time there was no disputing the blue “+” sign that showed up almost instantly!

I stared at it for a bit in total disbelief and then went to wake Danielle. I couldn’t even speak, all I could do was show her the test. Once she realized what she looking at we both just stared at each other incredulously and then started laughing! We didn’t know what else to do! After all the years of trying and crying, all we could do was laugh.

We decided early on that we wouldn’t announce anything to anybody until after the first trimester (which if anyone is interested, was horrible for me!). When we finally started to tell people our news they totally cracked up too! I’m not exactly the type of person who fits the “glowing pregnant lady” description, so it actually was pretty funny – even to me!

Three years and nine months after we started trying, we finally welcomed our beautiful baby into the world. And our little family is finally complete. We named her Danika Marie, a combination of our names and a tribute to our moms. Our baby girl was finally with us. She is the most amazing thing we have ever known!

I guess the beginning of my story was right after all. It really is our fairytale, and our “Once Upon A Time” has most definitely turned into our “Happily Ever After!”

The post was touching and I admire this blogger for what he wrote in defense of his wife. Wow, what respect he has for her, what admiration he has for a person he feels is doing the most important job in the world.  He was white knighting his wife, his partner, the mother of his children from other women who look down on her (their) choice to focus solely on family. How wonderfully heroic…of them both. And while he praised her goddess status he also saluted the role of motherhood as a whole, working and stay-at-home alike.

Yet, so many of the thousands of comments on this post were from working moms undermining the the role of SAHMs with scenarios of what their days look like, how much busier they are than us SAHMs, how much harder it is to work and rear a family.

The point was so hugely missed. Unfortunate, because it was so eloquently written and so very, very true.

It reminded me of a time when motherhood was still pretty new to me (it still is), and I mused on Facebook that my new role as a stay-at-home mother was by far the most difficult job I had ever had.

Surprisingly, several people close to me pounced on my words to let me know how much more difficult it was to be a working mother. The thread turned into a debate and I found myself defending myself when there really was no need to do so. I care not about how much harder a working mom has it than I do. It’s a moot point in my life. I am not a working mom. I have never been a working mom. God willing, I will never have to be a working mom. My job is my daughter. There is no reason for me to compare my situation to that of a woman who works outside the home. And I would never so rudely do so.

As I’ve learned to navigate my way through the trials and joys of rearing my child, I can honestly say it has not become any easier. I can repeat with absolute conviction that the role of SAHM is the most challenging job I have ever had.

KEY WORDS: I have ever had (emphasis on the “I”).

This post is not a comparison.

This post is not a complaint.

This post is not an insult to working moms.

The fact of the matter is mothering…parenting…is rough work and not for the weary. It takes thick skin, creativity, adaptability, patience, strong-will, proactivity, dependability, determination, dedication, drive, etc. etc. etc.  So many qualities that can be found on a professional resume. So why is it that SAHMs are often looked down upon or undermined by her working counterparts and society at large?

Here’s the thing…even though I would not change my SAHM status for the world, I often times envy working moms.

I envy that during during their work day they get bathroom breaks without an audience. I envy that that they likely get a lunch break, where their meal is their own; they packed what they wanted to eat or ordered exactly what sounded good to them and not what their child might want a bite of. I envy that they may opt to forgo a lunch break to run errands that may otherwise prolong their time away from their families. I envy that they get to run these errands alone, without getting a kid in and out of a car seat for a 5 minute jaunt into the bank.

I envy that for a few hours a day their’s is the only butt they’ve wiped. I envy that their wardrobe is likely nicer than mine, that they spend their work days looking presentable wearing something other than yoga pants and flip flops. Oh, how I long to have a place to  go to wear beautiful shoes — they are pretty impractical at play dates and swim lessons.

I envy that working moms are likely praised or acknowledged for a job well done – a SAHM may not get the recognition she deserves for her exclusive job during the most tender of years until her children have children of their own.

Yes, yes, I know working moms come home to all the same shenanigans and fun and motherly duties that a SAHM is swimming in all day, every day. But for at least part of their day they had a break from it.

Yup, us SAHMs need breaks; our days aren’t always fun filled; it’s often exhausting, thankless work and feels never ending. Sure, I nap when my daughter does. I’m guilty of turning on the TV to keep her occupied while I clean the kitchen. Yep, my house is often messy, more so than not. But I am a kick-ass mother, who gave up her career for her kid and I’m not asking for kudos or joining a pointless argument of who has it harder.

I applaud Matt Walsh for recognizing  that motherhood is a tough job no matter what and those of us who choose to focus exclusively on it are not lazy slackers living on easy street with days full of cupcakes and sunshine. The role of a SAHM often feels isolating and lonely and shouldn’t be disregarded in any way, but rather esteemed for the impact it truly does have on society and the lives within – the society of our homes and the lives of our families.

I realize how very, very blessed I am that my husband is able to financially support our family on his income alone. He makes sacrifices for us that often keeps him working long hours. But this is what we have chosen for our family and we know our daughter will be a better person because of this choice. I would not trade this opportunity for anything, not even endless places to wear a hot pair of stilettos.

And kudos to SAHM dads, working dads, single moms, grandparents raising grandchildren, god parents raising god children and anyone responsible for the growth, happiness, well-being and love of other human beings. Keep up the good work, our future depends on it.

How lucky am I?

]]> https://yaybabyblog.com/no-argument-here/feed/ 4 https://yaybabyblog.com/a-gift-from-charming-stitches/ https://yaybabyblog.com/a-gift-from-charming-stitches/#comments Tue, 23 Jul 2013 08:31:49 +0000 http://yaybabyblog.com/?p=3873

Recently my new friend, Buffie, a wonderfully crafty and endlessly kind woman, gave me a very special, thoughtful and useful gift – a boutique clutch baby wipe case. She custom makes and sells the clutches, and other handcrafted goods, through her online shop Charming Stitches. This thing is GENIUS, people. And a definite mommy must-have. Seriously.

If you are a mama, I am sure you can agree that lugging around a bulky diaper bag can be a back-breaking drag, especially if you’re just running a quick errand. But the baby wipe clutch allows you to pack the essentials needed for a quick jaunt out. The inside is where the wipes go and the generous pocket on the outside holds a single diaper, your phone, debit/credit card and ID.

And non-mommies, don’t fret – these clutches are super cute and can be used as a sturdy, stylish clutch to carry your necessities for a night out!

Charming Stitches’ boutique clutch baby wipe cases are functional AND fashionable. Buffie created mine using adorable pink damask fabric with rosette and pearl details and she thoughtfully personalized it for my little princess. When Jax is out of diapers I just know she’ll be using this as a purse for dress-up – positively adorable!

She has a variety of colors and patterns to choose from and she can custom-make one to your color and fabric specifications. Check out Charming Stitches here or at their Etsy shop.

HOORAY! Buffie has made a gorgeous boutique clutch baby wipe case especially for one lucky Yay Baby! reader. It’s too cute for words. Black and white polka dots with a glittered mesh bow and a jeweled silver crown accent. A perfectly stylish and practical accessory for a fashionable mama on the go.

How cute is that? You can win it. Simply enter the random drawing for free by liking Yay Baby! and Charming Stitches through the RaffleCopter Widget on the right sidebar. Or click here. Good luck.

This drawing is open to U.S. residents only.

I was not compensated to write this post. A boutique clutch baby wipe case was gifted to me by Charming Stitches for review purposes and one will be offered to a winner for a giveaway. All opinions and statements are my own.

Last July 8, was the last full day my sweet angel resided within my belly, stretching my body and mind to unimaginable limits. It’s the last time I felt her kick and hiccup inside me. It’s the last time I had to wonder what she would look like.

Last July 8, I checked in to a hospital to begin the grueling process of evicting my stubborn baby from my body. It was a day full of conflicting emotions – anxiety, insecurity, excitement and eager happiness. It was the last day my husband and I spent as a duo and we made the most of it – sleeping in late, lounging around, swimming, watching an all day marathon of Impractical Jokers on TruTV and anticipating the arrival of the tiny being that was about to wreck havoc on our lives while simultaneously filling every moment with wonderment and joy. Our conversations that day were peppered with statements like “within the next 24 hours we will be holding our baby girl,” and “at this time tomorrow we will be parents.” We savored every fleeting moment of the calm and relaxation.

I still remember every detail of last July 8, like it was yesterday, my last full day of carrying a child in my womb. I remember the feelings and the worries and the relief that finally, after nine tumultuous months, I only had to wait a few more hours before I would finally come face to face with my heart’s true wish, my deepest yearning, my most beautiful creation, my living proof that God answers prayers.

I miss the person I was back on this day one year ago but I love and embrace the woman my daughter has made become in the year since – a mother.

So I’m in a bit of a funk today. Hard to believe when I have such a cute, sweet baby who makes me smile pretty much every second…but yes, indeed, I’m feeling funky. So funky I had a case of writer’s block when I started this post. Then I looked to the Net for some inspiration and found it….in the form of a Kardashian.

Kim Kardashian and Kanye West had their baby girl and they named her North. This baby girl’s name is NORTH WEST! What were they thinking?

I know celebrities are notorious for unusual, unconventional and downright ridiculous names but I gotta say this is quite possibly the most bizarre out there in my opinion. It’s comical. I honestly find it hard to believe they chose that name with straight faces. North in and of itself is a little more than eyebrow raising, but paired with the last name of West is…unkind.

I may have had a few doozies on my list. I loved Iris when throwing names out there. It was not greeted with much enthusiasm when I told family/friends. I still think the name has a sort of ethereal ring to it but when I look at my baby girl’s face I just don’t see an Iris and I’m thankful I was swayed away from that name.

We also L.O.V.E.D the name Paloma. In fact, for years before we were serious about having a baby together, Tim and I said if we ever had a daughter her name would be Paloma. And we stuck to that until I was late in the throes of pregnancy.

We took much slack for that name as well. Paloma means dove in Espanol and it sounds both exotic and regal to me. But I was told time and again by my Spanish speaking friends/family that it also means pigeon and popcorn. Not something I loved hearing when I was so resolute on the name.

After awhile we decided to add a few additional names to our list of one. Those names were Jacquelyn and Valentina. We discussed them every day. Jacquelyn soon trumped the beloved Paloma and sank Valentina.

We took the naming of our child very seriously – considered what it would be like for her when she was in school and as a career woman. We didn’t want her to be teased growing up and we wanted her to be taken seriously as an adult. And we want her to love her name. So we weighed the options carefully. We also considered nicknames. There is nothing good for Paloma and I wasn’t particularly keen on “Val” or “Tina” for Valentina. I also wasn’t crazy about “Jackie” for Jacquelyn.

Then I threw “Jax” out there and Tim and I knew it would be the perfect name for the baby dwelling in my belly. We thought “Jax” had a spunky, sassy sound and a child of ours is bound to be loaded with spunk and sass.

That’s how Jacquelyn prevailed and was chosen to be bestowed upon our offspring. I can’t help but sit and wonder how Kim and Kanye came up with North for theirs. I’m not even sure it’s true (can it be?). I read it on TMZ afterall.

Let’s open this up for discussion. I’d like to know what you named your child/children and how you came up with it.  Also what were the other names you had in mind? And let’s talk about other offbeat names you’ve heard.

The journey of motherhood has brought many amazing people in to my world. It’s also solidified bonds with old friends already on the parental path. I find new wonder, interest and respect for moms and dads from all walks of life, curious about their views and parenting styles, what works for them and what doesn’t. I love to be inspired and as a mother, nothing inspires me more than a parents love and care for their child. On occasion I will invite an inspirational mom (and maybe even a dad) to guest post on Yay Baby.Today is such an occasion.

Jessica S. Marquis is a wonderful woman I met during Jax’s swim lessons. I was drawn to Jessica’s laid back aura as our babies splashed around. I found comfort in our conversations and there was something I knew about her, just by looking at her beautiful daughter, Moxie. A lactation consultant told me that babies that nursed almost always had flawless, smooth skin, tended to be chubbier and were often happier than their formula-fed counterparts. When I saw Miss Moxie, perfectly content with her tiny hands on her mother’s bosom, her alabaster skin glowing with health and her chunky thighs beneath the tutu of her pink bathing suit – I knew for certain she was breastfed.

While Jessica’s birth plan and experience was very different than my own (I was all about hospitals and epidurals), I found a kindred spirit in her and a shared belief that boob is best for our babes.

Here is her story about her path to the land of lactation:

“Nipple butter.”

Her finger swiped the air as if to underline the phrase. I watched her hand, she the orchestra director and I the lead violinist, anxiously awaiting her next stroke.

“You’ll want lots of nipple butter.” She nodded with herself in agreement and settled back into the chair. I nodded along with her in an attempt to fit in. I was not yet a mom, accustomed to having my breasts exposed to strangers by a hungry infant, and this talk about nipples wasn’t in my repertoire for the workday. Yet there I sat, across from my veteran-mama coworker, who was giving me the hard truth about breastfeeding.

She leaned forward. “You know those pictures of moms serenely looking down at their babies as they quietly nurse? Fake. You’ll be dripping sweat and wrestling them while your nipples bleed. So, nipple butter.”

How had I missed this crucial detail about breastfeeding: That it totally sucked?And yet, as the months wore on, I was privy to a growing album of battle hymns about plugged ducts, infections, tongue ties, supply issues, pediatrician concerns over malnutrition, and the miraculous blessing of formula. “It’s fine to supplement if you need it,” a growing line of women assured me.

But why did everyone seem to need it? And why was something my body did so naturally such a cause for disgruntlement?

Before my little peanut started growing in my gut, I didn’t have much of an opinion on baby stuff. I knew for certain I wanted to deliver at a birth center because I didn’t want a hospital birth (unless medically necessary), and I wasn’t gutsy enough for a home birth. All other decisions flowed out of that one conviction.

As my husband, Bob, and I attended the prenatal classes that came as part of the birth center package, my arsenal of knowledge grew and, with that, the responsibility of more decisions. Cloth diapers or Huggies? Strollers or babywearing? Delayed cord clamping or cord blood banking? Formula or the boob?

Upon a review of relevant research and some conversations I never expected to have in this lifetime, I realized I was a breastfeeder. I was dedicated to doing everything within my power to ensure the only thing my baby tasted during her first six months came out of me.

And so, as I gazed into the dark newborn eyes of our mini Marquis for the first time, I inhaled intensely in preparation for the pain and frustration of that first latch.

And then she found my nipple on her own. And then she drank deeply.

That night after she fell asleep, I set my iPhone timer for two hours so I could wake her up to ensure she received adequate nutrition. And an hour-and-a-half later, she woke me up with a hungry whimper. And I never set an alarm to feed her again.

My breasts were available on demand, and we both found that arrangement quite pleasing. Sure, it meant a lot of sitting – I finished five seasons of Friday Night Lights in three weeks and read Mike Doughty’s The Book of Drugs in two days. I was at the whim of her expanding tummy, yet I never felt more relaxed. My body was supplementing her body, and it was supremely symbiotic.

I saw how breastfeeding was benefiting us both. I lost a ton of birth weight, and she didn’t get any of the illnesses that floated around our home, including three times I ended up with a fever and had to nurse her in a zombie-like state. There were no ear infections, no freaky constipation, and every time she hurt herself I could calm her down immediately by offering my arms and my nipple. When I got plugged ducts, she was the one who cured them for me. And every time she spit up – which was a lot! – I didn’t have to worry she had reflux from something inorganic.

We were in rhythm, in an intimate dance that these nourishing skin-to-skin moments choreographed. It was a great way to start off as a new mom: Not worrying.

However, the statistics weren’t great for long-running breastfeeding commitments, despite strong advocacy from the American Association of Pediatrics. Many mamas started, some continued to the six-month mark (when solids could be introduced), and a handful made it the recommended full year. I was encouraged during those early days of nursing to discover the numbers were on the rise: nearly a half of mamas (47.2%) were still breastfeeding when their kiddos were a half-year old, an increase of nearly 3 percentage points from the stats used in my breastfeeding class.

Nonetheless, I knew I would need solid cheerleading to see this through till she was ready to wean. Bob was great, as was my mom in the Hungarian apartment where she and my dad lived as missionaries nine hours in the future. But I needed other females who would reassure me during those 2 a.m. nursing sessions and 4-hour long marathon feeds.

So I started watching. I conducted surveillance in restaurants, waiting rooms, church chairs, and grocery stores, looking for mothers with tiny feet protruding from their sides. I chatted with moms at my daughter’s swim class, and in local boutique baby stores with wacky names that sold organic pacifiers. I joined a Facebook group through my birth center, through which I met a friend whose kiddo also liked to nurse more than sleep. We sent messages back and forth like, “Treasure these moments because you’ll miss them when the little one is 13.”

It was through this observing and interacting that I grew more confident in my stance, both emotionally and literally. Just yesterday, I was nursing my nursling in a restaurant sans cover as customers passed by. My dining companion beamed at me as she remembered her own bonding time with a son who is now a father of three.

The fact is, I was blessed to be able to take a 3-month maternity leave, and then become a stay-at-home mom who could nurse at any time. I was fortunate my body worked to produce the right amount of milk, and that my infant could drink it to the point of being in the 90-something-eth percentile at six months. I truly realize how lucky I am, and I don’t take a beat of it for granted.

But I do not think I am an exception. I believe the weight of it comes down to commitment and support. If a mama really wants to make a go of it, she needs to say so and then surround herself with people who also share that value, including new mamas, tried-and-true mamas, and experts who will share medical knowledge and inspirational tales when things get tough.

Oh, and the nipple butter? Tossed it in a drawer before week two was through. I was too busy serenely looking down at my child to notice I needed any.

Jessica S. Marquis is the author of Raising Unicorns: Your Step-by-Step Guide to Starting and Running a Successful – and Magical! – Unicorn Farm (Adams Media). Her work has appeared in Redbook, Geek Monthly, Going Bonkers?, and the Quirk Books blog. She blogs at Unicornomics.com and spends the rest of her time in Phoenix with her husband and daughter.

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There is still time to get your comment in on last Friday’s post for a chance to win a pair of Freshly Picked moccasins! I’m drawing the winner tonight.

Today seriously ranks up there as one of the worst I have had in a really long time. Started off fantastically, waking up to a smiling, babbling baby; but by early afternoon it all quickly headed south.

The details are a bit too personal to divulge publicly, but let’s just say it felt like my world was toppling. Save for one pillar of heroic joy and ethereal bliss — my baby girl.

She is a beacon of hope and wonder. Her sweet baby innocence is healing and comforting. Never have I known more peace during internal turmoil than when I look into the depths of her sparkling black eyes. Her very essence speaks to my soul and lets me know that if I keep her safe and happy, everything else, come what may, will be just fine.

My little protector, my saving grace. It seems a big burden for such tiny shoulders. But she’s strong, and with every breath she takes I will persevere.  That’s the power of baby, and what a blessed woman am I to have such a champion on my side.

Nothing to do but count my blessings, take action and love my precious girl like there’s no tomorrow. But there is always tomorrow.

Can I get a YAY BABY?!