Somewhere Along the Way.... My Life Changed.

My life has changed. Complete overhaul changed. Am I just now realizing it? No.... But, yes. I am not the same woman I was before I gave birth to little Peyton. I am not the same carefree young girl running barefoot... chasing fireflies and catching dreams. I'm not the same girl who loved to take risks, cliff jumping on the weekends, driving oh a little too fast, climbing the highest tree in the woods, loving the shock factor of looking the part of the girly girl but playing the part of the rough and tumble tomboy. Part of me died the day that Peyton was born. And though I could stop to grieve it's loss, that part of me means nothing in comparison to my baby girl. And in it's place resurrected a new part of me... the part of me that is a mother. The part of me that has traded in a lust for life for a satisfaction and contentment in the life I have produced.

"I'm not who I was, when I took my first step. I look into your eyes to see, you're not through with me yet."

I got to thinking about all of this yesterday while I was at the mall. Yes, I attempted to go shopping. I'd been lonely lately. Since quitting my job I'm getting my first taste of a real SAHM. It's not all peas and carrots (whatever the heck that means!) For the first couple days I relished in the new day stretching out before me. I loved scheduling my day into tidy compartments... feeding Peyton, playing with Peyton, putting Peyton down for a nap and TO DO LIST TIME!!! I loved checking the boxes of my to do list... cooking dinner, folding laundry, cleaning the bathroom... I was lovin' wearing the apron and keeping the home. I'd pack little Peyton up in her stroller and walk to the grocery store, buy my food and then let her sit and watch me in her bounncy seat, and I'd sing as I made dinner. I was the proverbial housewife, and loving every minute. Don't get me wrong. I'm not using past tense because I've grown to hate this role... I still love it actually. But... CONFESSION: I got restless. I hit a couple of days of sheer loneliness. So to remedy my situation.. I went to the mall.

Before I had Peyton, I LOVED THE MALL. I loved shopping. I loved trying on new clothes. I loved even shopping by myself. It was a great time to think, and a great outlet for the die hard GIRL in me. So, hey, what's the difference between then and now, right? Just me and a stroller this time. Right? WRONG. If you've never done it, going to the mall with an infant in tow is not all mary quite contrary. ( sidenote: what is it with my addages that never existed until now????) First off, the spacing between shopping racks were NOT designed to fit a stroller. Throughout my mall excursion yesterday I must have knocked over like 5 shelves. Like KNOCKED OVER. Like, clothes on the floor. Second of all, everyone looks at you. Mainly because I still shop in teenage stores... I mean, I only just turned 20... just cuz I popped out a kid doesn't mean I'm gonna head to Ann Taylor Loft or Coldwater Creek. I'm still in my same stores... but they all look at you like you have no right to be shopping alongside them. And you're shopping next to young girls who don't even know what a stretch mark is let alone have a body that's been wracked by pregnancy and labor. And then from the older ladies if you venture into the department store crowd you get the teenage slut look. They don't even check to see if there's a ring on your finger. They just see young and stroller and they treat you like scum. No joke. I would've said it wasn't 'true til it happened to me.

So my day was basically a wreck. My mall excursion ended with me buying NOTHING. I looked and looked through racks of clothing. I even once ventured to squeeze into a fitting room with the baby. (yeah that was fun). But nothing fit right. I'm still figuring out how to dress my after baby body... I've been 120 pounds since I was 14 years old. Before then I was less. Suddenly I have a baby and an inner tube around my lower torso. I can't even wear maternity tops to hide it because I wore skin tight maternity clothes. Cute on the pregoo belly. Not so cute on the muffin top.

Anyway. I'm getting off track. My mall day. Awful.

So basically after a full day of people being rude, me knocking over display after display with my bulky stroller that NO STORE is designed to fit (which by the way frustration of the day: even in the baby section the aisles are too narrow for a stroller. Make sense? nope...) and after all the looks and stares throghout the day, I was DONE. I headed for the door in a flood of tears and frustration. But I stopped. There in the hallway was my flicker of hope. A huge Aquafina display and a vending machine full of sparkling fresh water. I was sweaty from the day and the water looked GLORIOUS. So I decided to spend my first money of the day on myself (which with our budget I don't have that much so each penny counts). And so i was spoiling myself... and guess what? Yup. The machine ATE MY MONEY. Great. I left the mall BAWLING. And to make it even worse, the tears just added to my spectacle. There's the teenage mother crying because of her issues. Awesome.

As I loaded Peyton into the car and shut the door I looked at her long and hard. Through my tears I thought about the life I had chosen and the changes that had come along with it. I thought about the things I'd lost since she came into this world. My body, my freedom, my activities, my friends, etc. And as I looked at her content little face with those bright blue eyes blinking up at me, I realized none of it mattered. I realized that I didn't care so much if I was still wearing last year styles this year. I realized it didn't matter if people thought I was fat. I realized it didn't matter if I couldn't go to the mall anymore. I realized it didn't matter if I didn't have the level of freedom that I used to enjoy. None of that matters. What matters most right now is my baby girl. If people think I'm frumpy, I don't care... what I care about is that my baby feels she is the most important thing in my world. Maybe I won't know about the latest celebrity gossip or the latest fashions... but I know which toy Peyton loves best, and I know how to make my baby girl flash a smile that will brighten any glum day.

I drove home and walked into my "lonely house" in my out-of-style outfit. I picked up Peyton and a smile found its way to my lips. This is where I belong.

When I made the choice to have a baby, I had no idea what effect it would have. There will still be hard days ahead... but this is what matters.

When I stand before God one day, He's not going to judge me on what I wore or how cool I was. He will take into account the way I raised the life He entrusted to me, and the kind of wife I was to the man He placed over me. "What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul." My home may be small. My child may be young. But this is what I've been given. It might not be much, but it's mine and I'm determined to be a wife and mother TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY. My pastor said something on Sunday that spurred me on. He said, "You might be wiping noses and butts in this age, but you may be the governor of half a kingdom in the next." I want to be faithful in the little so that one day I will be entrusted with much. I want to bring glory to God in my home. I want my children to rise and call me blessed. I want to be found faithful.

Yeah, my life has changed. But all for the better. I no longer am the girl I once was. And I no longer wish to be.

Bedding and An Incredible Find!

So I found some adorable new bedding on sale at Walmart. What do you think? I know it's really pink, but I'm girlie, what can I say? What I like about it is that it's subtle and should match with anything... since Bryan and I are in a transition time in our life, I figured that getting something loud and hard to match would be a bad idea. Just thought I'd share it with you.

Also, one of my biggest dilemma's lately has been finding cute maternity clothes. It's a real challenge! All maternity clothes (and I really mean ALL because I've tried it all!) in department stores are wayyy to big for me, not to mention frumpy as all get out. I think they think that 45 year old women are the only one's getting pregnant these days. Don't they realize that us teen girls are getting preggo too???? So anyway.. I'm absolutely thrilled because I found a gorgeous consignment Maternity Store that sells designer maternity clothes for a quarter of the price! I plan on taking a nice long trip there over the weekend! You can check out their website here: Bellies 2 Babies I am so thankful for people that open stores like this! Bellies 2 Babies, YOU HAVE SAVED ME! I'll post some cute pics of me modeling their clothes soon!

On Pregnancy and Fashion

Okay, I know I just posted like a second ago, but I just HAVE to share an experience.

I had a revelation of sorts today in the mall. First of all, shopping in your late first trimester of pregnancy is no easy endeavor. How am I supposed to know how big my stomach's going to get? Do I buy a size bigger than normal or two? Do I go shopping in the maternity section? Do I buy only button up sweaters that can easily conform to my bulge? Where else will I gain weight? Are my hips going to become gigantic? Shopping proved to be a stressful task. "Well just wait a bit then" you might say. Yeah, well, when it's below warm out there and you don't have many sweaters, action must be taken.

But down to the real point of this post.

I was standing in the checkout line when there before me I saw the nightmare of all pregnant women. A circus proceeded past me. To the naked eye, this sight was merely a young woman pushing a dual stroller through the mall... but to me, she was the epitome of what all young mom's fear becoming. She made quite the spectacle. Let's begin with the stroller. A bright blue three seater with overly large wheels and many obnoxiously colored noise-making toys dangling from it's every handle. In the very front sat a fussy toddler who was wiping snot all over his bright red face. In the middle was piled blankets, toys, books and stuffed animals, making quite a display. The young mother--couldn't have been more than 26--had very fake black hair and was sporting a frontwards back pack (you know, the kind the baby dangles from mercilessly). What screamed out most to me about this "scene" was the woman's BRIGHT CORAL PINK VELOR SWEATSUIT. I'm not kidding here, folks. She somehow decided that the best way not to bring attention to herself and her parade of bells and whistles was to clothe herself in the sort of attire you don for a hike in hunting season.

This woman, bless her heart, is my worst nightmare about becoming pregnant. Will I lose all sense of dignity and pride? Will my appearance simply fade into the black hole of motherhood? Will my sense of fashion be reverted to whatever will best cover my sagging butt and remnant belly flab?

Please tell me it doesn't have to be so!