From Mama to Mommy to Mom.

My 17 month old son, Chief. Climbed up onto the dining room table today and got my attention by screaming “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” A few alarming things were happening at this moment: toddler on table whilst yelling but the one thing that caught me off guard the most, his new name to call me “Mommy”. Who me?!

Up until now, I have been just “Mama”. I suppose even before that, a little cry meant he was calling for me. Everyone always says “don’t blink, before you know it they’re walking, or driving (insert new milestone).” No one prepared me for the transition from “Mama to Mommy to Mom.” Now that’s a blindsider.

My 3 year old calls me “Mom” now. I’m not even sure when that happened. What’s next? “Hilary”? Or even worse, “Grandma”?! Only kidding, Grandmas! That’s a badge of honor in my eyes! However, I know, I know. SLOW DOWN right?! If you’ve read my previous work you know I didn’t savor my daughters first year as much as I wish I had. Yet, now 3 years later I find myself overcome with bittersweet emotions. It doesn’t seem fair. Yet, I’m not trying to brush off these feelings. Why? It’s simple. It’s LOVE. Boy, is it a powerful thing.

Today when my son said “Mommy”, I can’t lie, it stung. Like a little knife right to my heart, the air pulled right from my lungs. The room suddenly in slow motion… I turn my head towards him. My son. Surely not a baby anymore. Those days are gone. The excitement and life in his eyes… that’s how I cope with it today. His pride. The whole world ahead of him.

How is it possible that I’m “running after a fast moving train” and I want the days to last as long as humanly possible all at the same time? I don’t know what’s happening. I do know one thing. This fills up my soul. My heart. My everything because, I was here today. Witnessing my son grow, mature and develop right in front of my eyes. For that, I’m grateful. Now I have more perspective. Which is truly priceless. What’s next? Drinking from a big glass cup, dressing himself or even moving from bathtub to shower?

Maybe it doesn’t seem like a lot of things happened today. Or many of your days seem mundane. Trust me, these are THE BIG THINGS. Just like my daughter somehow is 3 and calls me “Mom” now. Those years went by in the blink of an eye. Just like “they” all said it would. With my new found perspective there’s one thing I’m not doubting today, I’ll spend the rest of my years fighting to never miss the BIG THINGS again.

💕-TBHM Hilary

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Every Age is My Favorite

As a child turns 1 year old, I see so many mothers saying “No! Can I stop time?! I miss my baby! Why?!” Insert melodramatic statement. With my first child, I never had that thought once.  I actually couldn’t wait for the first year to go by. Her to become more independent, in turn, I would get a little independence too. She could do more things with her Dad since she wouldn’t be attached to my boob all day. A whole future ahead of us.

When Peach was 10 days old.

To be honest, I look back and regret much of her first year. I wish I would have smiled more. I wish I would have embraced that priceless, innocent time together. Motherhood is such a big transition and I wish I would have gotten perspective that THIS is the GOOD STUFF and throw my FOMO to the wind. I had a few major personal tragedies that perhaps, got the best of me. I’m here to say, grow through what you go through. It’s inevitable, anyway.

That I did.

Peach, 2 weeks old. Trip to Redwing, MN. Fly fishing with my dad.

After what arguably should have been one of the best years of my life, I spent it crying almost daily and clutching on to the hope that this too shall pass.

All too soon, I’m afraid.

My Dad with Peach on Fathers Day. 1 month before he passed away.

I even had thoughts like “I may never have another baby again.” God had a different plan. Like he always does. Surprise! I got pregnant with my son the month my daughter turned 1. There was no doubt in my mind, this is not a good time. I was just getting through the first year! I cried thinking about telling my husband.

A bittersweet moment with tears welling in my eyes, I told him. He smiled, leaned in and kissed me. Warmth came over me. We’re going to be okay. Maybe even better than okay. I settled into my pregnancy with a happy peace. Enjoying the precious months, planning with anticipation.

One day I asked the wisest woman I know (my mother- mom to 3 daughters) what her favorite age was while her children grew up. Her answer, “every age is my favorite.” Oh the smile it gave me. It touched my heart and soul. It’s really is so true. Pregnancy is full of hopes and dreams. Who will you be? What will you look like? The First Year. Full of love, cuddles and oh, so many firsts. The fun, wild and hilarious Toddler years. What a joy to see your personality and language flourish!

The day Chief was born. Jan 2017

I had a whole new perspective once my son was born. There’s no way I was going to let my past rob me of a beautiful first year with my him. (and second year with my daughter, too!) Shortly before my Dad passed, he said “there is beauty in every day.” I’ve mentioned it before. I hold it close to my heart. It helps me live in the moment. To really appreciate every age and stage of my children. Yes, it’s bittersweet knowing nursing my son is short lived and before I know it, I won’t be able to hold my daughter because she’ll be too big. I don’t let it ruin me though. I know some of the best years of our lives are yet to come. I look forward to the day my son can mow the lawn, my daughter and I can shop for her prom dress and even one day, grandchildren of my own.

The 3 amigos, taking on the world together.

I’m tearing up now. It’s truly because my heart is so full. I only pray one day, they get to feel the same kind of love I do, when they hold their own babies in their arms. I do pray I have more children, I just have too much love to give! It’s okay if this is it, though. I get to hold these memories in my heart forever.

♥️💓- TBHM Hilary

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Hot Mess of the Week- Lost Keys

It almost goes without saying that I’ve lost my keys before. You can’t really call yourself a Hot Mess unless you misplace very important items. I bought my blacked out “war wagon”, as my husband cleverly (he thought) named it from a private party. Upon purchase, we left with 1 set of keys. The previous owner promised to mail the other set at a later date… Looking back, this was probably some God like foreshadowing.

Somewhere in the Northwoods of Minnesota. Near abandoned building. Peach (12months old) stunning in her Jordans

This story happens to be pre-baby #2. I’ve always been a hot mess, Chief has just helped keep the tornado spinning at full speed. One day Peach and I were getting ready to head on out on a big adventure. Probably a stop at my sisters house or target. What’s new? I get us all dressed and accessorized. (Back when I could get ready during her morning nap… R.I.P. only child days) We shuffle out to the car, my large bell-bottomed jeans swooshing. Yep, I totally remember what I was wearing. My memory works 2 ways: 1. What was I wearing? 2. What was I eating? I digress. Pull shiny black door handle, slaps back… heart sinks… searches every pocket on body frantically. Approximately 15 pockets. Empty, empty, empty. Searches house like I’m digging for gold. Nothing. The pep in my step in starting to feel heavvvy. Knowing what’s next, the dreaded phone call to my husband. Aka, my number 1 emergency responder. 

Pic of me, hubs and Peach the weekend we bought the suburban. Getaway in Grand Marais, MN

I call. He’s less than amused. He ends up calling a tow truck from our road side service program. “Black Beauty” as I prefer to call her, gets towed to the Chevrolet Dealership. I have a friend drop us off and wait for a new key to be programmed. Guess how much it cost? FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS. $500 freaking dollars, people! At that point I wanted to say “screw it” and buy a totally new vehicle. (I admit, I can be a little dramatic…) 😜 

Sighs…I begrudgingly hand the clerk $500.00. They say my vehicle is ready, out Peach and I go. I open the car door, try to put key in. Something is weird. Oh suuuuuper cool, I’m in the WRONG truck. Walk of shame back inside. They tell me “it’s being pulled around the front now”. Really?! Why me?! And do you sell beer?!

Fast forward to pulling in my driveway at home. Slide hand to drop new key in the pocket I normally keep them in. LITERAL POUNDING HEART PALPITATIONS- I pull out the missing set of keys. 😫😭😩 Really?! How will I ever admit this to Mr. Perfect (hub)? Thankfully, he’s a seasoned veteran with my hot mess antics, so he just laughed. The next week I got the other set in the mail. Talk about timing. *I blame it on sleep deprivation*

Do you have an epic missing key story? Spill it with me!

🌪 🔑- TBHM Hilary

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Hot Mess of the Week- Carrot Incident 

For all the crackers, yogurt, and applesauce my toddler craves she petitions me on the regular for carrots. Healthy, organic, raw carrots! Can you say “Mom win?!” 

Peach (2.5) at a mall food court requesting raw carrots and hummus instead of endless fried options

Moms always have snacks in their diaper bags or purses. It goes with the territory. Such as chapstick, baby wipes, hand sanitizer and tissues. 

You’re not armed for battle on the motherhood war grounds if you show up empty handed when the tummies start growling. 

Needless to say, instead of carb loading the toddler I try to offer vegetables whenever possible. Before running out the door (yes, late as usual) I stuff a baggie full of organic baby carrots from Costco. Toss it in my black velour Michael Kors backpack and scurry out the door.

Fast forward to a cabin weekend with family. Toddler is itching for a crunchy treat, I remember that I probably have some of those carrots in my bag! Open the shiny gold zipper, dig around blindly feeling for familiar ziplock. Oh! Found it! Out comes one bag… NO, PLEASE NO. How long has this been in my backpack?! My family exclaims! The bag is full of rotten carrots. 

I start to wonder what else I’ve forgotten in the dark depths of “Michael”. Feel around some more. Stomach drops. Out comes bag 2 of rotten carrots. 

Feels around more… out comes bag 3 of rotten carrots floating in rancid liquid. 3 freaking baggies of fermented root veggies at this point.

My family is laughing and screaming hysterically now. Can’t believe me, yet, of course they can because let’s not forget, I’m a “Hot Mess.” And lets be honest here: who has time to clean out their bag everyday…or week…or month? Add it to the list of the game parents play, “what’s that smell?” 

If you had a hot mess moment this week I’d love to hear it! Shoot me a comment. 

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Have a blessed Sunday! ✌🏼💖 -Hilary