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Baby Rabies

pregnancy & parenting

  • Start Here
    • About Baby Rabies
    • Baby Registry Top Picks
    • Favorite Pregnancy Apps
  • The Book
  • Pregnancy
    • Birth Stories
    • Perinatal Mood Disorders
  • Parenthood
    • Babies
    • Toddlers
    • School Age Kids
    • Parenting LOLZ
  • Photography
    • Photography

      6 Stunning Photos You Would Never Guess Were…

      February 11, 2019

      Photography

      Simple Tips For Editing Snow Photos On Your…

      December 13, 2018

      Photography

      I Wrote A Photography eBook And This Is…

      December 6, 2018

      Photography

      Creative Lighting Ideas To Help You Take Great…

      November 27, 2018

      Photography

      Learn How To Take And Edit Photos On…

      November 19, 2018

  • Reviews
    • Reviews

      The Answer To Last Minute Holiday Gifting For…

      December 19, 2018

      Reviews

      I Was Never A Barbie Girl Until Now

      October 1, 2018

      Reviews

      Finally! Jeans For My Jean-Averse Kids!

      August 22, 2018

      Reviews

      If Your Kid Loves Dump Trucks & Garbage…

      August 13, 2018

      Reviews

      Nobody Tell My Kids ABC Mouse Is Part…

      September 4, 2017

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3rd baby

July 30th, 2016 Was A Pretty Ok Day
PhotographySchool Age DaysToddlers

July 30th, 2016 Was A Pretty Ok Day

by Jill August 1, 2016
written by Jill

July 30th is a pretty undesirable day to have a baby in Texas. Breastfeeding a newborn in 100+ temps is not an enjoyable experience, nor is walking around in an adult diaper with an icepack between your legs.

But, having a baby turn 3 on July 30th isn’t so bad.

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Long summer days and a late golden hour make for special pictures of a little boy doing what he does best- digging in the dirt. In his jammies. (Which were thrown in the wash after he got his 2nd bath of the day.)

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This has been the scene here every night this summer.

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You know when you tell your kids, “Oh, maybe you can ask for that for your birthday,” to get them to leave you alone about wanting that expensive toy? And then they end up forgetting about it? No, that is not Lowell. Lowell has remembered for months that this one time before school let out we told him he could get a remote control excavator for his birthday. He reminded us every single day.

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Every. Single. Day.

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And so it came to pass that Lowell became the proud owner of a remote control excavator on July 30th, 2016.

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He also helped us welcome Rosie to our family. July 30th, 2016 was a pretty OK day.

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More on Rosie tomorrow.

A photo posted by Jill Krause (@babyrabies) on Jul 30, 2016 at 10:16am PDT

August 1, 2016 9 comments
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I Love Not Being Pregnant
Toddlers

I Love Not Being Pregnant

by Jill August 31, 2015
written by Jill

Lowell is 2 years, 1 month, and 1 day old. By the time Kendall and Leyna were this age, I was 10-14 weeks pregnant with the next one.

That is to say, this is the first time I’ve been able to experience life with a 2 year old while not incubating another life, sucking on Sour Patch kids, and willing myself to eat mashed potatoes.

I don’t have very many memories of Kendall and Leyna at this age and stage. Probably because I was curled up
on the couch, throwing fruit snacks at them, counting the seconds until nap time so I could hate life in my bed, with my eyes closed.

Lowell seems… younger to me than I thought the other two were by the time I was pregnant with the next. I guess that’s just the way it always goes with the baby.

I’m enjoying him so much, y’all.

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Even though he is a total curious jerk sometimes. He pulled the dishwasher open on himself after climbing it yesterday. This was seconds after I removed him from a chair he pushed up to the sink where he began “washing” knives.

He either has way more stamina and determination than the other two did at two years old, or they are really damn lucky to be alive. Remember that time I had the flu when I was 10 weeks pregnant with Lowell?

I can NOT imagine keeping this kid from harm while pregnant right now.

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Let alone keeping up with all 3 of them!

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But this is enjoyable, chasing them around (notice how all the pictures are of their backs?) while not wanting to vomit.

I love not being pregnant.

A photo posted by Jill Krause (@babyrabies) on Aug 30, 2015 at 5:49pm PDT

August 31, 2015 12 comments
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Almost Forgot! He’s Turning 2
BabiesToddlers

Almost Forgot! He’s Turning 2

by Jill July 29, 2015
written by Jill

Lowell turns 2 tomorrow.

If that surprises you, know that it surprises me more. So much so that I…. didn’t even see it coming?

Like, 3 days ago, I realized it was this week.

There will be no party, just a small dinner with our family and another family, who happens to have a little boy Lowell’s age. They’ve known each other since they were born. They are tiny besties.

So we shall call it an “intimate affair” and we will have pizza, and beer, and sippy cups of juice, and I think I will make a cake.

Maybe there will be balloons. Just depends on how long it takes me to make the cake tomorrow.

2 is a weird birthday, anyway. 1st birthday parties are for the grownups in this family. They are the WE SURVIVED celebrations. I go all out for them. By the time they turn 3, they have friends they can name off.

2? I mean, I don’t think they really recognize that they aren’t the only toddler on the planet. Except for tiny besties, and only because their moms get together for coffee or wine playdates often.

All that is to say that tomorrow this guy turns 2, and I nearly almost let it slip past.

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But there will be a celebration. And there will be cake. And it may involve choo choos and a tractor and some Oreo cookie dirt. It may very well look hilariously horrific. So Friday’s post might be my contribution to Cake Wrecks. 

Stay tuned.

July 29, 2015 3 comments
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The Evolution Of My Diaper Bag
BabiesPopular Posts

The Evolution Of My Diaper Bag

by Jill March 17, 2015
written by Jill

With my first baby, I was that mom, the Martyr MacGyver with the Mary Poppins Diaper Bag. I had it all. I was prepared for anything. Packing that diaper bag was an act of love, and this isn’t me putting myself down for it. When you have one baby, you have the energy reserves to backpack through the mall with half your house on your shoulder.

What my diaper bag contents looked like for my 1st, 2nd, and 3rd baby. | BabyRabies.com

baby blanket, burp cloth (and do not mix the two), spoon for homemade baby food, homemade baby food, bib, antibacterial wipes for surfaces, an entire freaking medicine cabinet (diaper cream, gas drops, teething tablets, cough medicine, Tylenol AND Advil, A FIRST AID KIT), hand sanitizer (so much sanitizing happening), Boogie Wipes, Sophie the teething giraffe, nursing cover, cloth wipes and wipe solution, cloth diapers, wet bag, extra change of baby clothes, colorful and non-plastic toys

Of course, things have to change when you have another baby. I still did my best to pack that bag with love, but I also had to consider my oldest… and my sanity. This bag was A LOT more about my sanity.

What my diaper bag contents looked like for my 1st, 2nd, and 3rd baby. | BabyRabies.com

blanket/nursing cover, burp cloth, bib, organic baby food pouches, fruit leather snacks for big brother, lollipops/bribes for big brother, Sophie, obnoxious plastic toy for big brother, digital tablet distraction for big brother, board books for wishful thinking, hand sanitizer, surface wipes, disposable diapers and wipes, diaper cream, change of clothes, a baby wearing device so I could strap baby to me while chasing terrorist toddler big brother

Annnnnd then I had the 3rd one. Absolute game-changing ass kicker.

What my diaper bag contents looked like for my 1st, 2nd, and 3rd baby. | BabyRabies.com

“This is enough, right? HEY! Tell your sister not to run in the street!! Has anyone seen my keys? GET. IN. THE. CAR.”

March 17, 2015 47 comments
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17 Times This Toddler Has Lived It Up #LoLoYOLO
Babies

17 Times This Toddler Has Lived It Up #LoLoYOLO

by Jill December 10, 2014
written by Jill

I’m channeling my  click bait curating talents today for a post that is guaranteed to make you smile. If #13 doesn’t make your cheeks hurt from happiness, you’re not human!!!111

Lowell, or LoLo as we all call him, is our jolly little 16 month old with a huge personality and mega expressive faces.

Here are 17 times LoLo has lived it up. #LoLoYOLO

1. That time he ate some beans.

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2. When he wore skinny jeans…

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And then danced with the broom.

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3.  That time he needed an afternoon jolt.

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4. When he wheeled through the grocery store like a badass with his sister.

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5. That time he tried to rescue the kitty from under the door.

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6. When he looked like the little old man from Up.

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7. That time he questioned his sister’s emotions.

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8. That time he climbed onto his brother for some good ol’ fashioned snuggle time.

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9. Another time he ate some beans.

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10. The day he became a “little bother” and found his sister’s stamps.

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11. That time he wore a neck floatie and DNGAF what people thought of it.

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No f*cks given.

A video posted by Jill Krause (@babyrabies) on May 5, 2014 at 5:32pm PDT

12. When he judged me for eating BBQ with a fork.

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13. That time he took his first selfie.

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14. That time he showed his disapproval after I returned home from my first overnight business trip.

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15. That time he wanted to reorganize the media cabinet.

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16. That time he got in trouble for climbing on the media cabinet and DNGAF.

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17. Every time he gives me this face and gets everything he wants.

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Listen, it’s not that he’s my favorite child. It’s just that he’s my most well-documented one. And the upside to having a toddler is… well, having a toddler. So I’ll be over here living it up with him in between tantrums about broken bananas and dramatic head-floor smashing over who-the-hell knows what. #LoLoYOLO

You can find a lot more Lowell and #LoLoYOLO on my Instagram account- @BabyRabies. He’s always doing something to make us smile around here.

December 10, 2014 11 comments
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Successful Breastfeeding Can Include Formula
Babies

Successful Breastfeeding Can Include Formula

by Jill October 21, 2014
written by Jill

Lowell had formula.

I say this not for praise or like it’s some kind of confession. It’s nothing I’m ashamed of. It’s not anything that I need a gold star for or sympathy for. It’s a non issue. I fed my baby just like people all over the world feed their babies every day.

95% of the time Lowell (now nearly 15 months) was exclusively breastfed. 5% of the time, he took formula.

I say this because I was inspired by The Leaky Boob to share a honest account of what successful breastfeeding can look like.

My first two babies, who exclusively breastfed for a combined total of 3 years, never had a drop of formula. I’ve always believed and said that’s largely in part to me being fortunate enough to stay at home with them, and naturally producing a HUGE supply of milk for a long time.

Breastfeeding has certainly presented me with some struggles that I had to overcome, but once I got over those initial bumps in the road, it was smooth sailing.

By the time Lowell was born last summer, I’d reached a point with blogging and speaking that required a lot more travel. The last year has been a great one for me as far as professional opportunities. It’s also been incredibly busy and overwhelming at times.

My first trip away from Lowell, he was about 9 months old, I left filled with worry that he wouldn’t have enough frozen breastmilk.

“So I’ll just get him some formula, ” Scott said matter-of-factly.

To be completely honest, it wasn’t that simple of a solution for me. I did feel guilt for not having pumped enough, but I think most of my anxiety about it came from simply not knowing how his system would handle it while I was gone.

Luckily, we had enough breastmilk in the freezer to mix with the formula and help the transition.

And what do ya know? My baby was happy and healthy and not hungry when I arrived home a few days later.

From then on, I didn’t even bother building my breastmilk stash in preparation of upcoming travel. In fact, I donated what I built up while traveling to a local mom fighting breast cancer with a baby a little younger than Lowell.

Frankly, I quite enjoyed the freedom of being able to agree to a last minute trip without my baby, not having to take into account how much of a breastmilk stash I had built up.

I hesitated to even blog this for a while, NOT because it was something I wanted to hide, but because I didn’t think it was anything to be celebrated. MANY of you who are reading this have fed your babies formula, either supplementally or exclusively. No big whoop.

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But I do think it’s important to share that I would still consider my breastfeeding relationship with Lowell to be 100% successful, despite choosing to give him formula on occaision. And I hope it takes some of the guilt and weight off of other moms who are facing supplementation.

A few things worth noting:

1. Yes, I know donor milk is always a great option. Obviously. I AM a breastmilk donor. But my baby was getting plenty of breastmilk. I didn’t feel I needed to find a donor (and take milk away from someone who truly needs it) just for me to supplement because I was, ultimately, too lazy/tired/overwhelmed to pump.

2. If you’re a new mom, and you are aiming to breastfeed, please educate yourself on how supplementing can affect your supply. 

3.  Alternate title- Successful breastFEEDING Can Include Formula

 

 

October 21, 2014 6 comments
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Bats & Balls- This Is Not About Baseball {Contributor}
Babiescontributors

Bats & Balls- This Is Not About Baseball {Contributor}

by Jill August 22, 2014
written by Jill

Remember very pregnant contributor Suzanne? Well, she’s very not pregnant now with a precious newborn baby boy. And today she’s telling us all about how she’s a total badass mom of 3/military wife/domestic goddess who is keeping it all together and all the balls in the air while her husband is far away in a submarine. Except not. Because bats.

(This might be the only post on this blog that will ever lead a Google search to something actually about rabies.)

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

When you have kids (or even just turn into a grown up) your life becomes a juggling act, a constant struggle to keep all the balls of life in the air so they don’t come crashing down on your head or foot or face. For every change you make – adding another kid, a dog, a job change, a business trip, whatever – throw another ball in the mix and try not to mess up.

As a military spouse, I pride myself in being an expert juggler. But this month I finally found the ball that sent the whole thing crashing down on my head – and that ball was shaped like a bat. A flappy, leather, furry, squeaking BAT.

A month ago, my third baby finally made his appearance. A few days later my husband left for a short but incredibly poorly timed work thing. And by work thing I mean he was on a submarine at sea, which isn’t the sort of business trip you can reschedule no matter how pissed your wife is at being left alone with 2 kids and an infant. The Navy ain’t got time for that.

To keep everyone entertained alive, the littles and I went to visit my parents for a few days, literally slamming the door and driving away from the laundry and cooking and cleaning and all the other things that I knew would start to pile up.

When we got home a few days later, I put the kids to bed, collapsed on the couch with a pint of ice cream and mentally shored myself up to get through another week alone.

And then a bat flew through the room.

I tried to pretend I was just delusional from exhaustion (I find denial to be a very effective parenting tool, but it flew through the room again, MOCKING ME with its gross battiness and TOUCHING THINGS with it’s disgusting wings.

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I briefly considered just taking the kids to a hotel and burning the house down behind me, but figured the paperwork would be too much trouble.

I Googled animal control, but they didn’t have an after-hours number (or even an answering machine). I Googled pest removal companies but couldn’t find one in my town. I Googled “HELP THERE’S A BAT IN MY HOUSE” and got lots of articles about rabies. I realized I was on my own.

So I Handled It.

I chased it upstairs, locked it in the guest room until morning when I knew it would be sleeping, then punched the screen out of a window and hit the bat with a broom until it fell out. BOOM. LOOK AT THESE BALLS I AM JUGGLING.

That evening, another bat flew through the family room.

Unsurprisingly, I lost it. ANOTHER BAT. For all I knew there was a whole COLONY living in my chimney and I was going to have to fight off a bat every night for the next week until my husband came back and I could turn bat-chasing duties over to him. I couldn’t stand the thought.

The kids were alive and fed and clean and happy (and SLEEPING) and the sink was empty and the laundry was drying and the toys were put away and I had only said “shit” twice all day and if someone had knocked on the door that minute I could have offered them coffee and fresh cookies. I was doing it all. Holding down the fort. Maybe I wasn’t winning any perfect parent awards but I was proud of myself.

But the bat caused all my well-managed balls to hit the floor. I just sat on the floor and cried. Stupid bat. Stupid house. Stupid laundry. Stupid husband who was gone. Stupid tears coming out of my stupid eyes. STUPID.

The crying made me feel better, or at least better enough to open a bunch of doors and windows and chase the bat out. I had to be the one to do it. There was no one coming to rescue me, no one to take care of my problem, no way to just ignore the crisis until it went away. This time the crisis was a bat. Next time it could be the plumbing (again) or the car (again) or someone falling down and needing stitches (again).

So I made another cup of coffee and put on my mom pants and kept juggling. Because that’s what we do, as wives, as moms, as women. We’ve got this. And that. And whatever else life throws at us.

My balls are back in the air.

For the record, I haven’t seen a bat since.

*******

You can find more of Suzanne and her adventures in bat-chasing and ginger-raising over on bebehblog.com or @bebehblog on Instagram.

 

August 22, 2014 9 comments
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3rd Baby Wisdom
BabiesPopular PostsThe Story

3rd Baby Wisdom

by Jill March 26, 2014
written by Jill

3rd Baby Wisdom

A friend recently asked me, “What have you learned now that you have 3 kids?” He and his wife are contemplating having their first. So what can I teach them with all my infinite, acquired wisdom?

I certainly don’t feel like an expert. I don’t have much figured out. And, honestly, I attribute a lot of this new-found easy-breezy approach to parenthood to laziness and exhaustion.

But, I guess there are a handful of lessons I could share.

1. Baby socks are, like, no. The dumbest ever. With the exception of Trumpette brand socks, I have never found a pair that stays on my kids’ feet for more than 30 minutes. And after the baby is coordinated enough to pull them off, it doesn’t matter what brand they have on. Die in a fire, baby socks.

This winter, because I get that it’s kind of like child abuse to take your baby out barefoot when it’s below freezing, Lowell rocked a pair of Robeez (faux) fur-trimmed booties. They stayed on, looked stylish, and kept him warm with no socks required. Literally the only pair of shoes he owns for now. (Because baby SHOES are even dumber than baby socks. PLEASE know this.)

2. Do not take the whole damn nursery with you when you leave the house. No. You don’t need a portable medicine cabinet for a trip to the mall. No. You don’t need 4 toys and 2 changes of clothes. YOU ARE GOING AWAY FOR 3 HOURS. Stop. Unload. Put in a few diapers, some wipes, a light blanket (so very multipurpose), and a pacifier (or, okay, 6 of those) if your baby takes them. Your aching back will thank me. Nobody wins Martyr MacGyver points for being the parent at the park with the Mary Poppins bag.

On that note, keep a diaper bag loaded and ready to go. Not hard to do when you don’t have so much to stuff in there.

And another related note, find a good chiropractor.

3. You will sleep at night. You ALL will sleep at night. You will. Eventually. Trust, I do not mean to make light of sleep deprivation. It is hell, and it is serious, and it leads to desperation. It can also lead to depression and anxiety. Make sleep a priority, for sure. Do not do this at the expense of feeling like a failure because your 6 month old isn’t sleeping through the night, though.

I’m not saying don’t try methods that you have researched to help make this happen. I’m just saying to remember that it WILL happen someday. And in the  meantime, you nap the nap out of naps when you can, and don’t give a flying crap if everything else is falling apart around you. That pile of laundry might actually make a comfy place to lay your head.

4. That leads me to self-care. Take care of yourself! No, really. I know everyone says that. I mean it. Drink more water. Take it everywhere with you. Know the signs of postpartum depression and anxiety, and know that it can set in long after that 6 week postpartum mark. Ask for help. ACCEPT help. Eat. Do things you enjoy just because you enjoy them, even if they have nothing to do with your baby.

5. Buy GOOD baby stuff. Especially if you’re planning to have more than one baby. There are things we got for our first baby that didn’t last 6 months with him. Then there’s stuff like the Stokke Tripp Trapp high chair that I seriously think we will still have when we have grandchildren. Is it more expensive than plastic high chairs? Yes, but it is 10x more durable, washable, and useable. Really think about simplicity and longevity when you buy (or register for) baby items. Not only will you save money in the long run, you’ll keep stuff out of landfills longer.

IMG_11756. Buy LESS stuff. See, you can afford to buy better baby stuff when you buy less of it. The more kids I have, the less crap I want in this house. We simply don’t have the room. Simplicity is the key to my sanity! Keep fewer bottles, sippy cups, and bibs in the kitchen. You don’t need one of each brand. Once you find what works for you, stick with it, get a few, and donate the rest. Babies don’t really need special baby plates or baby spoons or baby bowls.

And clothes? Just remember the more you have, the more you have to wash. Stick to cute separates that mix and match easily, from brands that wear well. Add in special outfits for special occasions, and remember that not every day is a special occasion. And, it’s perfectly fine for your baby to wear footie pajamas all day. Yup, even to the grocery store.

9. Purge. Constantly. Even if you’re consciously buying only good stuff, and less of it, it will still take over your house like a multi-colored-plastic-with-a-dash-of-wood-because-good-parents-buy-wood-toys-right? monster. Donate it, sell it, but think through if packing it away for future use is the best option.

Personally, we don’t have the storage space to save every item of clothing. I’m glad I didn’t waste the Rubbermaid tubs on doing so since each child was born in a different season, and there’s 5 years between the boys. I saved the good-quality, unisex stuff, and the special outfits that work for several seasons. They all take up just one bin’s worth of space. Remember that hand-me-downs come and go, and there are always good deals to be found on Craigslist and consignment sales.

8. Kids are resilient, and I believe there’s a reason they don’t remember the first few years. You will mess up. EVERYONE messes up. Welcome to the club. Let’s have a drink.

9. Don’t go lax on safety. Laws, regulations, and recommendations are constantly changing. What you did with your first baby may not be the safest option by the time the 3rd baby comes. For me, when it comes to stuff like car seat safety, I try to stay up to date on the newest recommendations.

10. It really does go fast… and also slow… and there is nothing you can do about it. Savor moments when you can, try not to feel guilty for the moments you want to time travel past bedtime that night, and always say yes to sloppy baby kisses.

March 26, 2014 17 comments
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BabiesThe Story

Lowell’s Soul and My Sixth Sense

by Jill February 25, 2014
written by Jill

This conversation about my baby’s soul and my mother 6th sense is sponsored by Baby Jack Blankets, which is one of Lowell’s very favorite things.

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I knew within minutes of meeting him that he was different. Obviously, all my children are each their own person, but the contrasts were easier to notice between boy and girl.

When I was pregnant with Lowell, we wanted to be surprised by his gender at birth. I spent a lot of time wondering if he’d be just like his big brother if he was a boy, or just like his sister if a girl.

It was clear to me from our introduction in that labor and delivery room, though, that he is, just like the other two, his very own person. There are similarities, of course. But there is something in this little guy that is unique to only him. I can’t describe it. It’s not tangible. It’s just a feeling I get when I hold him close, when we share a quiet moment, or a game of giggles and peekaboo.

Continue Reading
February 25, 2014 7 comments
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How Old Is Your Baby?
BabiesThe Story

How Old Is Your Baby?

by Jill January 14, 2014
written by Jill

I used to be able to answer the question, “How old is your baby?” with such precision. It seemed… irresponsible? Wrong? Misleading of me to not chime back with the most accurate response possible.

There is SUCH a difference between a 5 month old and a 6 month old, you know? I mean, even mere days in an infant’s life make such a difference.

Except, nobody cares. Nobody cares how many WEEKS and DAYS your 5.5 month old is. But trust, I get it. You’re in that mindset because it’s all about their weekly milestones and the precision is important to you. Or… well, it was to me.

The first time.

The second time, I stopped checking what her weekly milestones were. I read up on what to expect each month when I got around to it. I mostly knew how long it would be until the next month hit.

This time, seriously y’all, I have a hard time remembering the 3rd baby’s birthday. Someone asked the other day, “Is Lowell really already 5 months old?” And I’m sure it was just a sweet thing to say and meaning, like, “Wow! Time has gone so fast. I can’t believe he’s 5 months!”

Except it made me pause and re-do the math. I counted from the end of August through the middle of January. Then I felt super embarrassed because here I had just posted on Instagram that he was 5 months old, but he was only 4 months old!

And then I remembered he was born at the end of July, not the end of August. So… yay?

Ugh. My poor brain.

HowOldIsYourBaby

January 14, 2014 16 comments
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