Shifting Gears and Finding Truth

I’ve been thinking a lot about this blog, and about my life in general. I like to make you guys laugh. I know most of you can relate to many of the things I rant about here, and I hope it makes you feel a little more at peace with who you are and what you’re doing at this point in time, because that is so important.

But as I’m putting things out there for you to read I also wonder what else I could be doing to make life a bit lighter – for me, for you, for mommies and wifey people and just women in general. Because of the things I was taught and the convictions I adopted as a child, I knew from an early age that all I wanted in life was to marry, have babies, and stay home doing crafts, cooking, and cleaning.

Well, now I’m here, approximately 7 years later and wondering… Where am I going in this life and why does the peace I thought I would feel by this time still seem kind of distant?

Some of you might know what I’m talking about, others may not. I envy those of you who feel useful, love what you are doing, and are totally content where you are. The truth, for me, is that wifehood and motherhood are a lot harder than I expected. Like, a LOT harder. Really, life is harder than I thought it would be. That isn’t to say that I’m not happy in many ways, many times of the day, and really, I don’t have a lot to complain about when it comes to comparing my “hardships” to those of others.

But everyone has their struggles.

And our struggles are not always the same – but I think we can find some common ground in our journeys through this life. Whether we are SAHM/SAHWs, working moms, working wives, or just all-out women in the world, I stick to the belief that we are here to help each other live the best lives we are each capable of living.

So, with that being said, I want to take a new perspective, at least for a little while. I hope you’ll keep reading my blog, although you may not laugh as often when you come for a visit, and maybe you’ll even cry sometimes. I’m sure I will.

I want to talk to you from my heart, because this is the kind of writing I can feel. Admittedly, sometimes what comes from my heart really is as goofy and snarky as what you’ve read so far, because I really am goofy and snarky (along with many other things).  But my plan for the next few months is this: to embark on a little journey of self-acceptance, family love, marital joy, and finding my truth.

And I’m hoping… maybe you’ll join me?

yeslioness.com

Whew. Glad I got that off my chest. Heavy stuff, that. I hope this all makes sense. Come back again for the first official installment documenting the discovery of the mushier parts of my brain. Love ya!

One time, we went on a Caribbean cruise.

We just got back from a lovely trip.

A Caribbean cruise. A Caribbean cruise.

And yesterday, it snowed here.

I can’t stop thinking about palm trees and blue ocean and every kind of mocktail under the sun.

Oh, the sun.

That’s right – thanks to my dad’s super-generous Christmas gift to his family we packed up our two older kids and joined 10 other family members, hopped a plane to Houston, and spent 7 days seeing three countries, swimming in the ocean, and stuffing our faces with food better than any I’ve had in my entire life.

It was amazing. I didn’t have to cook dinner or make my own bed for a whole week. And judging by the looks of my house right now, I have obviously not yet recovered.

So I’ll be reminiscing today. But I want you to come away with some practical tips as well, because that’s how I try to run this blog. A little laughter, a little fun, and a little bit of sorta-kinda-decent advice from someone who learns everything the hard way.

Admire:

 

Leavin' on a jetplane.

Cozumel, Mexico port.

The whole fam-damily (minus Dad, who was the photog)
with me, Aaron, and Big E and Sis top left.

Beeeeeeeaaaaach.

Iguana mania in Honduras.

Shopping time!

Roatan, Honduras.

Drinking from a for-real coconut.

Cotton candy on the beach.
The South American flavor didn't bother her one bit.

Riding on the tender boat to Belize.

Mayan ruins (Altun Ha) in Belize.

Ok, so now that you’ve seen a little of the awesomeness that is the western Caribbean, here’s your tips.

10 Things You’ll Be Glad You Took On Your Caribbean Cruise

1. Sunglasses – when you’ve been living on the frozen tundra withan average of only 9 hours of daylight for most of the winter, the sun is bright. Really bright.

2. Five bottles of sunscreen – ok, we didn’t quite go through five, but seriously. When you are as beautifully pale as I am (not to mention my even lighter oldest son), burn is the only thing you know about the sun. And I’ve mentionedbefore what a hypochondriac I am, so talking about my fear of death by skin cancer is pretty unnecessary.

3. Extra swimsuits – one of them is always wet and it’s nice to have a dry one to alternate with. And, if you’re like my dear hubunk, climbing into precarious motor boats may just tear your trunks from crotch to knee and leave you a bit… exposed.

4. Random medications – because sometimes people get pinkeye the first day of a vacation.

5. Your own snacks and water – I don’t care what you have to do to fit them into your checked luggage, you will never regret that you had fruit snacks and bottled water for yourself (and for the kids who have meltdowns over such things), especially when a hamburger and fries is at least $10 in American cash.

6. Cash in small bills – you won’t find anyone on an island with change for an American $100 bill, my friends.

7. Someone who likes to hang out with you – because even if you have a group of 14 people like we did, you need a special buddy who will wonder where you went when you get lost from the rest of the group.

8. Lots of underwear – Changing from swimwear to clothing and back all day is confusing. For some reason, no one can remember which underwear is clean and which ones aren’t.

9. A good camera and video camera – Aaron tried to talk me out of bringing my big camera. I told him, “Yeah, right!” What kind of photographer doesn’t take her bulky camera and bulky camera accessories to all the beaches to get covered in sand and cloud up because of the humidity? I didn’t regret it for a minute. And the videos Aaron got are priceless.

10. Your inner party animal – cruise ships are made for fun-lovers. Granted, many cruises are full of the fun-loving elderly. But you will have endless amounts of fun if you can karaoke anything from the 50's and 60's, I’ll tell you what.

Daddy and Sis on the tender boat.

5 Things You Might REGRET Taking on Your Caribbean Cruise

1. Your small children – there are kid centers on cruise ships. There are fun things to do. They have their choice of foods and entertainment practically every day. But nothing can keep them from having their typical hungry/tired/bored meltdowns at the most inconvenient times, in the most inconvenient places (such as crowded tourist areas where they shlump to the ground proclaiming their legs hurt and they can’t walk, or on the floor of the fancy dining room on the fanciest night, or on board airplanes where they pee their pants just before you land at a busy airport where you have to walk a mile to find your luggage and fresh clothing). I was grateful every day we left the 2-year-old at home.

2. Your electronics – Wifi costs too much wherever you go and unless you have international cell service, you’re not calling anybody. So why bother? Oh, that’s right… we’re all addicted.

3. A large group – maybe my dad feels differently about this, because it really was so fun to all be together. But holy moly getting everyone on the same page and gathered up every time we went somewhere was not an easy task. I was usually the crazy-lady straggling 10 yards behind the others with the 3-year-old who “couldn’t walk.”

4. Your fear of enclosed spaces, open ocean, germs, wild drivers, and strangers – You will live for a week in a tiny room sans windows, without being able to see land, surrounded by thousands of people with questionable hygiene, be driven around on South American roads by South American drivers, and not know anyone except the people with whom you travel.

5. Only a 7-day cruise – You will not want to go home. The only thing dragging me back was the sweet little boy who had spent the whole week in the homes of relatives wondering what “trip” we could all be on without him. Did you know there are 6 month cruises that go all over the world??? Yeah. Do that.

Marvelous. Ignore the wheelbarrow man's photobomb.

Someday we’ll vacation again… someday. But for now, we’re easing back into real life (it sucks) with homemade mocktails and pretending the snow will be gone again soon and sleeping all together in the same bedroom every night (still adjusting to normal sleep schedules again).

I can’t wait for someday to come.

I am me. You are you. And Oprah is a billionaire.

I'm going to ask you to do something for me. Go to the nearest mirror. Look into it. Look past the dark circles, the frizzy hair, the yet-to-be-waxed mustache.

Okay, maybe that’s just me.

But seriously. Look past all that. Now look past the labels – whether they’re the ones you give yourself, or the ones given to you by others. Woman (or man). Mom (or Dad… you get the idea). Homemaker. Mormon. Cook. Athlete. Tall. Short. Fat. Big-boned. Skinny. Emotional. Bossy. Faithful. Hurt. Selfish. Courageous. Grieving. Tender. Vulnerable.

Break through every last layer.

Now what do you see?

I’m going to take a rare break from my usual writing (aka: snarkasm) and go out on a limb here, because there are some things… some things that I want to say. Maybe things that need to be said. And this is the only way I know how to say them so that someone will hear. And if it changes something for that one someone, then it will have been worth saying.

We are all here, in this world, inexplicably attached to that reflection we see in the mirror. There’s no getting around it. We look how we look. We are what we are. We are born with what we are born with, and nothing more.

But we have this incredible capacity to take all of that “stuff” that makes us who we are and bend it, flex it, stretch it, build it, and otherwise make it even more incredible than it already is.

YOU. You have that power.

I could be a great many things. I could be a painter, a mountain climber, a stripper, or a whale watcher. Those things are within my reach. What is not within my reach: being a Beyoncé, a Miley Cyrus, an Oprah Winfrey, or a Thomas S. Monson… because I am not those people. And that’s okay.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that none of us will ever see someone else’s reflection when we look in the mirror. It will always be you. But there is so much perfection, so much wonder and beauty and peace and focus in that. And it’s a shame that it’s so hard to accept the face, the body, the heart, and the mind that stare back at us every morning.

It frustrates me (although I sometimes do it myself) to see people who spend so much of their time waiting. People wait for more money, for smaller hips, for a good man, or for happiness. Some of them look, half-heartedly, but in all the wrong places. Others sit around in their pajamas all day with their eyes glazed over as they stare at the screen of a device that shows them pictures of the things they wish were theirs. 

And to those people I say:

GET OFF YOUR BUMS, YOU FOOLS.

Stop complaining about what you didn’t have, what you don’t have now, what you will never have, or how you’ve-been-screwed-over-so-many-times-by-so-many-people-and-how-dare-they-ruin-your-life? That's no way to live.

Get out of the house. Go places. Experience things. Try new foods. Get a new hobby. Make new friends. Step out of the miniscule box you have been living in and spread your fabulous wings.

But do it with this in mind: what you do and who you choose to associate with are what you will become. If you want better, you have to act better. You have to work hard to become your best you.

And some days, your best you really will need to sit around in pajamas and stare at a screen all day. I’ve been there. I get it. But don’t let yourself be defined by those days. Find your purpose. Start becoming the person you want to be.

You have the power to find potential within yourself. You have the power to make yourself who you want to be. You can take the very most basic pieces of who you are and become your own, personal best.

I am not an expert in anything. I am flawed. And I am not the prettiest, the healthiest, the smartest, or most caring or most generous person in the world. But I am me. And I know the me I want to become.

You are not your labels. You are not your marital status, your religion, or your relationships. You are YOU. Think about it every time you make a decision. The minute you stop acting based on the labels and start thinking critically for yourself is the minute you start to truly become your best self.

And just think – Oprah has made billions on that idea.

Status Update: I Heart Status Updates

Let me tell you about something I love.

Well, first let me say that I will neither shame nor approve of the following varieties of Facebook posts. In fact, I have been known to use many of these myself, on more than one occasion. I often use them simply to let the world know that I am, actually, a human being, and I do, surprisingly, have a life that everyone should know about.

*NOTE: Any and all hints 

of snarkasm are 

completely unintentional.

So why am I sharing my personal commentary on the wonderful world of Facebook updates? Only so we may all more fully realize the benefits of carefully considering our words before filling in that little box at the top of the page. The tiny portion of the web where our riveting thoughts can provoke enough likes, comments, and shares to keep us inexplicably addicted to Facebook. For in that tempting, tantalizing space with a surprisingly large capacity for typed characters we experience…

The status update.

Status updates common to the general public are as follows:

1. Watching (insert movie title)! Similar posts include – Partying at (insert place)! Dinner at (insert place)! Playing at (insert place)! Spending time with (insert people)!

That’s so great. Like, really great. I’m just here. At home. Alone with my Ramen noodles and local television channels.

2. Little (enter name of child) weighs (enter weight) and is (enter inches) long! Growing up so fast! Also – Look what (child) can do! Getting so big!

You had a kid? I had completely forgotten since yesterday’s status update.

3. Ugh. So sick. Or Ugh, the kids are sick.

Now that I know your health status, I feel much more connected to you.

4. Life is so awful right now I can’t believe this and that and the other. I am miserable.

What would you like me to say right now?

5. In contradiction to the last one – Life is so great! I can’t believe this and that and the other. I’m so happy!

You are so positive. I’m so glad you had the best life ever at the moment you updated your status.

6. Political rant.

Whether I agree or disagree, I didn’t have the energy to read past the “See more” button. Sorry.

7. Rant about something you haven’t spent a lot of time studying.

Wow. I did not know that. Just a second while I check your facts and type a carefully calculated response totally disproving your theory.

Duck face.

8. I worked out today, and this is what I did. Tomorrow, you may hear about the other amazing things my body can do.

You are truly an inspiration. I can’t wait to be inspired again tomorrow.

9. Look at my children. They are obviously very cute and I love them a lot.

Congratulations on your awesome genes!

10. Look at what I made. (Insert photo of food, craft, décor, etc.)

I’m so glad you have talents.

11. Look at the wonderful things I do with my children. (Insert photo of playing at the park, homeschooling, crafting, etc.)

You definitely deserve the “Mom-of-the-Year” award.

12. Happy Whatever (insert holiday)!

Everybody’s doing it. Why shouldn’t you? Maybe I will too. Nothing better to do on a holiday, right?

13. Got to see my best friend so-and-so today! (Often with photo)

Your other best friends totally just saw that.

14. I love this quote: (insert random quote shared by thousands).

Whether or not this quote actually means anything is debatable, but if that many other people like it, it must be good and I should definitely read it.

The Sexy Selfie

15. A shared post: (Insert random company) is giving away 100 (insert random expensive electronic device) they can’t sell! Like, share, and comment to be entered to win!

Let me get this straight…

16. Another shared post: So-and-so is a brave little soldier, fighting such-and-such a disease. Can we get 1 million likes for so-and-so (Often accompanied by a somewhat frightening picture of a hospitalized child)?

Okay, I love hospitalized children as much as the next guy, but what in the world is liking this and sending it rambling about the internet going to do? Link me to a donation site or something, people.

17. So-and-so is in the hospital. Prayers!

What?! What happened?! Oh, and who is so-and-so?

18. So-and-so is still in the hospital… Doctors are so stupid!

I know, right? Doctors never know anything, especially not doctor things.

19. Ate (random food) today! So good!

I’m so happy for your tummy right now.

20. Here we are on our honeymoon!

Thanks for taking time to let me know. How’s it going? What have you been doing? Tell me everything!

21. Kitty (Insert random photo of cat)!

And… hover mouse pointer, hover mouse pointer, uncheck “Show in news feed.” Sorry friend.

22. Commonly seen on “Garage sale” groups: Can’t afford to pay the doctor bills/give my child a good Christmas/buy groceries, selling this (insert random item).

Your welfare is totally my concern now. I may actually decide I need your random item.

Miley Cyrus, anyone?

Ah Facebook, you add such mystery and interest to life. Bless you and your status update box. You continue to be an addiction I just can’t seem to break.

The Times That Try Mothers' Souls

If there were any Reese’s Pieces in the house right now… I would be self-medicating. Heavily. (Note also that I consoled myself with a handful of chocolate chips.) These are the times that try mothers’ souls.

Why?

Two words:

THE. CHILDREN.

I love them. Goodness knows I do.

But HOLY FRIGGIN’ COW they know how to get to a lady after a long day.

Let me explain, before I get too carried away and you start imagining a horror film made about my insanity ten years from now.

After a long day, Hubunk scurried off to his job to make some big American baffos, while the children and I spent a luxurious evening eating cotton candy made from rainbow clouds, singing “B-I-N-G-O,” and giggling beneath our cozy living room blanket fort.

FALSE.

This is real life, people. And while we do have our moments of joy in our blanket forts, we also have big arguments about who gets to clean it up when all’s said and done.

So here’s the real story, from the moment Hubunk walked out the door and left me all alone with my children and my inner crazy person (who was already close to free of her metaphorical cage):

Napping child had an accident while sleeping in my bed. It soaked through all four layers of blankets and sheets, which I had just washed.

Due to said accident, formerly napping child woke up in a sour mood and screamed, “I’m not your mommy anymore!” when told she could have a bath, but not until dinner was done (obviously, she’s a bit confused on who is whose mother here).

All of the children screeched and argued and injured one another while I made a wondrous meal that none of them wanted to eat.

The children fought over who got to hold the bowl of dip while they ate the only parts of the meal they liked.

The children screamed for a bath while I attempted to live vicariously through Elena Gilbert as Stefan and Damon fawned over her on The Vampire Diaries.

Five minutes into Bath #1, the children leapt from the bath and yelled, “POOOOOOP!”

There was more screeching and arguing while the {naked} children awaited the draining and cleaning of the tub.

While I was trying to clean the tub and watch TVD at the same time, youngest child (the pooper), still in the nude, came running up to me with an unpleasant smell attached to him. More poo was found on the floor, but the rest of us are still unsure if all of it was found.

Bath #2 was run. Bath #2 was removed from the tub and dumped onto the bathroom floor by the pooper.

And to top it all off, in all the commotion I left my pumpkin seeds in the oven too long and fried them crispy. So much for a treat tonight.

Right now, I want to lie on the floor in fetal position and take deep breaths while cranking Katy Perry’s “ROAR.” And for a minute, I might.

But then, I’m going to get up, referee whatever argument is going on in the kids’ bedroom, wipe a bum, and put everyone to bed – which is, unfortunately, quite a process.

And then I will collapse in my own bed (after getting all of my now pee-free bedding from the dryer and re-making it), possibly without washing my face because-who-has-energy-for-one-more-thing-tonight-seriously, sleep for a time, be awakened by someone needing to pee or having already peed, sleep a little more, and hopefully wake up in the morning, ready to do it all over again.

Moms do that. And it’s hard. And it’s not all kicks and giggles like I thought when I was 13 and wanted a family akin to that in Cheaper by the Dozen.

I’m still learning. Every day is an adventure. But through good times and bad there are a few things I know for sure:

I choose to enjoy the here and now and accept every minute for what it is and what it’s worth.

I choose to hug and kiss my kids many, many times during the day, no matter how hard it’s been, because they are important.

I choose to embrace the decisions I’ve made and everything that goes along with them.

I choose to love this life.

It is all a choice.

Own Your Awkward

As the younger generations have trotted off to school over the past few weeks, I have been feeling a little school-ish myself. I graduated college two and a half years ago (am I really that old??? :S) and although I do a fair amount of “self-learning,” I honestly miss school. The glossy textbooks, freshly sharpened Number 2’s, and even the gag-arific stench of perfume-drenched adolescents.

So in honor of school children everywhere, I’m going to tap into my practically useless knowledge of scientific theory and pose a hypothesis:

Everyone is awkward.

In order to test my hypothesis, I’ll need some support from my [rather limited] readership (you). While I know my small sample size will never get this theory into the mainstream scientific community, I do hope to bring some awareness to the idea by asking you all to “Like” or “Share” on Facebook, “Pin” on Pinterest, or comment “Heck yes!” on this blog. If you really want to share your enthusiasm, I suggest clicking the “Like” button and holding it down for a really, really long time—that’s what I do.

My theory has developed over a lifetime of first-hand experiences. Consider, for a moment, these examples of my awkwardness:

*NOTE: The names of other persons involved in my awkwardness will be omitted for their protection.*

I started young. By the third grade, I was a little on the chubby side, insisted on wearing my long, stringy hair down all the time (how else would people admire its obvious beauty?), and wore horse t-shirts akin to those of Napoleon Dynamite to school. Tucked in. That same year, I obtained a large, round pair of glasses. I was awkward-looking even among awkward-looking third graders.

My favorite awkward shirt.

To make things even more awkward, I carried stuffed animals everywhere, was obsessed with horses, and was convinced life would be better if I avoided all things female. My friends and I crawled around on our hands and knees at recess, pretending to be horses, until we were in middle school. One of our classmates even christened us “The Horsey People.” And he still called us that in high school.

As the awkwardness of my peers turned into the orneriness of pre-teendom, I remained awkward.

My poor brother, smothered in my awkwardness.

Soak it up, people. Every last drop. And I still took my favorite stuffed animal to school with me half the time.

And then I got chubbier, and still wore glasses, and got braces, and “went out” with a couple of equally awkward boys. Two awkward teenagers holding hands on the bus does not make them any less awkward as individuals.

Me, trying not to look awkward with my friends while styling pigtails and too much eyeliner. 

And then I was in high school, and my life hadn’t gone the way I planned, and I wasn’t as cool as I had once imagined I would be. But I started to realize something. People still liked me. I had friends. And they seemed to enjoy a good portion of my awkwardness. So I started to own it. And everything changed.

Yay, awkward!

So what I guess I’m really getting at with this whole hypothesis thing is, yes, everyone is awkward – but it’s okay. And the sooner you can own it, the sooner your experiences, oddly enough, stop being so awkward. I still have my moments – I say things I shouldn’t, sometimes I laugh when I should be quiet, and I’m pretty sure I still embarrass the heck out of my parents. But I am owning it. I apologize when I feel it’s needed, and don’t apologize when I don’t.

I am content.

And guess what, I even got married -- to someone who was also awkward at times:

And we're awkward together. And I hope we're teaching our kids to be their own special kind of awkward. But is that even really a question?

5 Disgusting Parenting Parallels

After pushing a third human out of my body last February, I vowed I'd wait a considerable amount of time before I started up on #4. So, instead of developing my own miniature this year, I've enjoyed watching my friends and family develop their own. Many of you are having your first, and it's exciting! There's so much to look forward to. You've spent so much time preparing and reading and pinning on Pinterest in the name of your child that the 9-month wait seems far too long. 

And I hate to put a damper on things. 

But I wanted to spread the word on some horrifying, rarely told truths... I want to warn you, before your perfect parenting imaginings crush your soul at 2 o'clock in the AM on a Monday while your husband sleeps peacefully and you stand freezing in your underwear trying to comfort, feed, rock, and change the baby at the same time.

I've thought a lot about what parenting is really like since becoming one. You see, before, I was convinced there would be lots of board games, reading books, snuggling, kisses, and running through sprinklers with popsicle mustaches on every smiling face. Admittedly, we do these things. And we enjoy those five seconds. But I find myself spending a lot more time feeling a little... grossed out. So, in honor of all my wonderful friends and family members who have had, or will be having, new little ones this year -- prepare yourselves for the real deal by reading these disturbing, disgusting, despicable parallels to the job you have just signed up for.

5 Disgusting Parenting Parallels

Standing at the edge of manure pile and being told to go digging if you want the million dollars Bill Gates left in there for you. You don’t know if it’s true, but you’re desperate. You have to believe that there is a reward to all of the work you’re doing. You have to be sure it is in there somewhere. But when you’re knee deep in crap, your eyes are burning from the stench, and you haven’t found much more than a quarter, it can seem hopeless. Keep digging.

Watching someone eat their boogers. You don’t think they should and you’re positive it doesn’t taste good, but they’re going to do it anyway. Maybe you’ve tried it yourself and learned the hard way. You want to scream “NO! DON’T!” But if they don’t do it when you’re looking, they’re going to do it when you’re not. It’s painful, and you might gag a little. Keep watching.

Finding someone else’s hair in your burger after you’ve eaten half of it. You were enjoying every bite. You were savoring every flavor. The melty cheese and the crisp lettuce complimenting that perfectly grilled slab of meat. And then, there it is – a piece of someone else’s (likely unkempt) body. You stop, mortified, disappointed, upset. And you have a choice to make. This isn’t just some dollar burger at McDonald’s, though. This is the absolute, one and only, prime cut of a non-GMO, organically raised, free-ranging, super beef cow, rocked to sleep at night to the sounds of Andrea Bocelli and Joan Sutherland. We’re talking the primest of the prime. Thousand dollar price tag. Toss that hair aside and keep eating.

Giving a bum a sponge bath. No matter what you do, this poor fella doesn’t seem to be getting any cleaner. So you try scrubbing harder. In circles. Left to right. Right to left. Up and down. Down and up. More water. Less water. Stronger soap. Finally, a miniscule spot on his left ankle seems a little less grimy. Keep scrubbing.

Cleaning public toilets with your tongue. It’s gonna make you sick. It’s gonna make you crazy. It’s gonna make you furious when you just put the finishing touches on one toilet and someone comes along and defiles it. Just when you think the job is done, you have to start all over again. Keep cleaning.

Parenting. It will be everything and nothing like what you thought it would be. It is up and down, a rollercoaster ride you’ll stay on because you’re afraid of what will happen if you get off. You will discover the true definitions of insane, crazy, and clinically off-the-wall, but in the same dictionary you will find love, patience, and selflessness. You will scream and cry and wonder what in the H.E. double-hockey-sticks you’re doing. You will kiss and hug and laugh harder than you’ve ever laughed before. You will be amazed at the smallest, most insignificant things. You will suddenly realize why all your annoying Facebook friends post about their kids all day long. This little person is a piece of you. You did that! And you cannot imagine the crazy amount of love there will be in that.