I’ve always had a favorite baby picture of myself, I’m in the cutest little hooded poncho made by my Gramma and wearing baby Nike Cortez shoes. Not too long ago my mom came across the poncho and naturally I vowed to recreate the picture with Ellie. And then months went by and I (naturally) forgot about it. Since I don’t trust such an “important” picture to my still-developing photography skills, I enlisted E’s Uncle Chris. We got her decked out in her poncho (a little small for her now) and somehow she cooperated and let him snap away.
This Mother’s Day will be my second. I remember being surprised last year at how much the holiday meant to me, and how happy it made me. I was in the Mommy-club, and surprisingly I felt like I belonged, like I earned my spot. My baby was almost 9 months old, I was starting to settle into our “new normal” and the first couple months were fortunately just far enough away to start becoming a blur. So on that Mother’s Day, I felt good. I felt PROUD.
Is there such a thing as the witching hour for 20 month olds? I swear, it’s like we’ve time-traveled back to when Ellie was a tiny newborn and evenings were … scary. I thought we were in the clear. Not so much.
You can read more here about how and why I started exploring essential oils, and how the first oils I bought were the Digestive Blend and Lavender to help with Ellie’s reflux as a newborn. I can’t keep track of how many times I’ve blended these oils in the last year and a half. It’s the only blend I have in a BIG roller bottle, and I swipe it on E’s torso at any sign of tummy discomfort (including gas, bloating, constipation, diarrhea…)
I ran into two moms this morning who were dropping off their babies at daycare for the first time and it brought me right back to Ellie’s first day and I remembered how much of a mess I was. I would like to think my reaction was typical: tears when I arrived, tears when I left, and then all day spent looking at pictures of her and racing to pick her up as early as possible. Everyone told me then – and it’s what I told both mommas I ran into today- it gets easier. It really does. No day is as hard as that first day.
I’m not totally sure why this feels like such a mile marker for me. I’ve been referring to this day for a couple weeks as “Ellie’s Birthday” and Chris keeps rolling his eyes and correcting me: “It’s her HALF Birthday.” Yea, yea, but she’s EIGHTEEN months old! She’s actually an age you can describe without using months. She’s one and a half years old. Tomorrow she will be closer to two years old than one.
I’m a lover of a good progression photo. I don’t know why – I just love being able to see the journey, whatever it may be, through side-by-side photographs.