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Saturday, September 12, 2015

About That Breastfeeding

After one year, a couple of months, and even a kidney stone, I finally put up the "Out of Business" sign on ye ol' mama's milk-making shop. And it just about broke my heart in two. I had full intentions to milk it for all its worth, at least until Walden entered two. But just like that, he lost interest and the raging flow eventually trickled out to baby oblivion. Who knew breastfeeding and I would get along so well? I'm truly going to miss it, its moments and even the hard work that was involved.

By breastfeeding, I discovered a ferocious new passion in this life + baby. And in case you missed it, last month I found my voice in the #normalizebreastfeeding battle cry thanks to the fab femmes at In Fine Feather Blog.

In Fine Feather is a stunning, easy-on-the-eyes blog focused on holistic, healthy and homegrown wellness. Its creators are Tess Harper, a dear friend and former colleague of mine, and her bestie Haley Sheffield, an artist extraordinaire, who've I've always wanted to meet on the other side of the lens.  

With August being Breastfeeding Awareness Month, they allowed me the platform to open my heart on this matter and get a few things off my chest . . . Including the opportunity to capture breastfeeding's sacred moments in the act. Now, when I miss it the most, I have the portraits Haley shot to keep close to my heart. 

Click HERE to read my guest blog post on the "Art and Acceptance of Breastfeeding." And be sure to check out the entire beautiful blog, which includes a fantastic interview with my favorite prenatal yoga instructor and muscle relaxer (ha!) Mandy Miller

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

The Family Pack

It's been a while since I posted a pic of this girl. Or any one of our five mutts, for that matter. 

The truth is when baby boy arrived, our fur babies took a big backseat, just as everyone said they would. Life hasn't been the same. They don't have our doting like before. But they do have each other. And they even have their own rather nice "dog den" in our old guest house in the backyard. 

Still, we feel guilty as we pass them everyday, swearing we'll get back to them soon enough. 

Our baby boy loves them, pointing and laughing at his "Bark-Barks," even though we all know he makes them nervous and is the culprit for their new found neglect. 

Candy Lou, in particular, was the princess of my lap (and the original inspiration of this blog!). She came to me via Heart of Georgia Humane Society, just a few weeks after the tragic passing of my beloved Guapo. Ironically, they called her Mama. She was surrendered to the old school Animal Control for getting pregnant on her first heat. She gave birth in foster care, and after her one puppy was adopted out, she ultimately found her way to us. So, she seems to get the mama thing more than any of them. 

She's also an alpha among our pack. Her throne now sits at the top of our backdoor stairs, where she remains hopeful for an invitation to return inside and resume the life she had better than any of the other four. And she sits so patiently. She's watched me go in and out of the house in the fog of the newborn haze, the blissfulness of new babydom, the business mode of working motherhood and the concern that comes from keeping a curious toddler from getting hurt. And she sits and waits for whatever she can get these days, even if it's just a quick pat, acknowledging that's she there. 

I can't promise Candy Lou that we'll get back to our "old life" together. And I don't know if she'll live long enough to see things truly settle down. 

But one thing I can assure her and our other four is that they're not going anywhere. We can't give them all we gave them before, but we can give them the same loyalty they've given us. We're not the parents who turn our backs on our pets. 

Sure, they are messy. They are unsure of the baby. They still bark too much. But they are quieter than they used to be, especially when we shush them and say "baby is sleeping." And when the baby does want to see the "Bark-Barks," we respect their space so our child can learn to respect it, too.

Tonight, Candy Lou's waiting didn't go unnoticed. She was bathed, she was cuddled and she was reminded she was still loved. It was just enough, so that when it was time for bed, she quickly went back to the pack, settling down for the night in their den outside our backdoor. 

The fact is, we're all part of the pack - me, Jamie, Walden and the five mutts (Candy Lou, Boz Waggs, Tybee, Bowen and Miss Kitty). They miss living with the ultimate alphas, but they know the newest cub needs us more right now. 

And even though the attention they get from us may never be the same, before we all know it, their love will triple as our son comes to know them like we always will. A baby, indeed, changes everything ... Including making that love and loyalty only grow.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

It's a Small World First Birthday!

It's a small, small word, but gosh, it's been more like row, row, row your boat. Walden has us running to keep up with him, but he's also finally entered the marathon toddler napping stage, allowing me the time to do this. So, I'm finally circling back around and posting the pics from his "It's a Small World" themed first birthday party.

We had his party at Macon's Lake Tobesofkee water park. There is an enclosed cinder block pavilion at Claystone Beach that we rented for the occasion. It's nothing fancy, but it's got great AC, a full kitchen (including an ice maker!), tables, chairs, high chairs, restrooms, a stage and good ol' tile polished concrete floors. It's also very reasonable to rent for the entire day. 

With Walden's birthday falling in late June, I think we've found our forever birthday home. As he grows, there is the lake, a disc golf course, campgrounds and even a water amusement park to add to the party mix. As long as he lets me, I'd like to keep the birthday tradition here for as long as I can. Not the mention, the staff at Lake Tobo (as we call it here in Macon) are some of the best of the best in Bibb County. They went out of their way to make sure our birthday party was just right for us and our guests.

So, back to the theme. I chose "It's a Small World" because it is the greatest amusement ride of all time -- next to having a child, of course. It also resonates with the wishes I have for my little boy to see the world and realize we all share the same sun. 

And it was a really easy theme to run with, even without getting too crafty. I ordered international flags, banners, plates, napkins, table runners and wayfinding signs from Amazon Prime (actually, Amazon Smile with proceeds going to Historic Macon). I also ordered party favors from there, which included play passports and your very own "small world" to take home. The passports even came with passport stamp stickers to dress up the party hats.

For the tablescape, I found a handmade banner from Etsy made up of pages from an "It's a Small World" Golden Book. I then recycled some burlap, added this ferris wheel lamp find from Goodwill I bought before Walden was a twinkle in my eye and added some more worldly flair like the international flag table runner and some cut-out "It's a Small World" doll images. 

Our biggest splurge on decorations was commissioning a local artist (and baby-sitter in a pinch!) Heidi Clinite to paint a backdrop that set the stage for our party. And we had the perfect little boat to put in front of it, a castaway treasure courtesy of the Bolingbroke trash dump (thanks, Dad!). 

For the food, I wanted to go with a tiny taste around the world and incorporate some ethnic nibbles, but frankly, the voice in the back of my head told me to keep it simple, so chicken salad and pimento cheese it was from our own Grow here in Macon. I did however find international flags on toothpicks, which made up for it. If that wasn't enough, Jamie and I had bought a set of Icelandic flag toothpicks on our honeymoon, so it was only fitting we used them for our son's first birthday. 

The extent of my craftiness was a watermelon my mom helped me hallow out to look like a boat. We filled it with fruit, and Walden's super-sitter Taylor made a graphic that said "The Happiest Cruise that Ever Sailed 'Round the World" that we cut out and laminated to stick out of the fruit vessel. I also printed and cut out circles of the "Small World" clock tower face, which we laminated and laid on top of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Yes, there were doughnuts AND cake. Finally, one of my favorite strokes of ingenuity was to make a graphic to go on the cooler full of international beer. It said "Take a Lil' Sip Around the World." Yes, there were doughnuts, cake and a selection of imported beer at my son's first birthday. Who needs ice cream?

The cakes totally stole the show. His "Small World" multi-tier themed cake + his little global smash cake were a bigger deal to me than a wedding cake. Downtown Macon's own Amanda's Cakery just wowed us with creations that were just as delicious as they looked. 

To round out the party, we brought toys from home, including Walden's plastic ball pit and his tee-pee (our first birthday present to him). I loaded up on inflatable globe beach balls, and the kids took it from there. Between the wide open floors and old fashion fun, plus a record player spinning an original "It's a Small World" vinyl, we had ourselves quite the party on our hands . . . Walden Weatherford approved.

There is just one moon and one golden sun

And a smile means friendship to everyone

Though the mountains divide

And the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all!

(all the "good" quality pics are by familiar friend Stephanie Shadden!)

Sunday, June 28, 2015

The Big One

It wasn't that long ago that I was unconvinced kids were for me. I sat on the fence, leaning more towards the child-free zone. A career could be my baby, right? My dogs certainly were. That was enough, right? Other parents constantly reminded our childless selves that we had it so easy. So why not keep it that way, right? And all their "just you wait" had me wanting to wait, well, well past those childbearing years. 

But I knew I had found a true partner. And the notion of combining forces not just as friends, lovers and husband and wife, but combining just what our genes were made of was compelling. And so, eventually, as we flew from 30-somethings to late-30s, we made the purposeful leap. Was I capable of being maternal to something more than fur, paws and hooves? Was I meant to be a mother? This time last year, I was about to find out. 

Turns out, it wasn't cliche. It was the most natural role of my life. When Jameson Walden Weatherford's skin touched mine, the core of my very being changed. My heart did indeed burst into a million pieces, and it was put back together bigger, stronger and now living and breathing outside my body. To this day, it truly hurts to love this much when you find your heart constantly bursting.

So, I pray. I pray to know what to do with this kind of love. I pray for his protection. I pray for peace on his earth. I pray this little boy continues to grow and stretch with curiosity and enthusiasm. I pray he is a citizen of this small world we all call home. I pray he's grateful for his blessings, his freedom and his opportunities to show compassion. This includes this week's ruling on marriage equality by the Supreme Court and the wake of the tragedy that just happened in Charleston. I pray his heart also loves so much, it sometimes hurts, too. 

I also pray he continues to teach me my ways as a new mother. I pray for the patience I'll need ahead as he toddles into toddlerhood. I pray for the good health and energy that's needed for that. I pray I continue to embrace him with all that I've got, each moment I've got left. I pray our family will always be enough.

Here we are. One big one later. Moments ago, he was this teeny-tiny brand new newborn, coming into this world with the agony of labor and landing so sweetly and softly, skin-to-skin on my chest. And then, just like that, he rose up to his two feet and took steps away from me and into this brave new world. All within one year - one simple calendar and a new complex lifetime for us all ago.

Tuesday, June 16, 2015

So THIS is About to Happen

Walden Weatherford is making milestones faster than American Pharaoh. We're days away from turning the page on an entire year! The birthday part invites are out, and I already feel like a Pinterest failure. In other words, things are right on track. 

He's toddling and tumbling into his first steps. He's babbling and gesturing into speaking his mind. And he can make you laugh with all kinds of antics I didn't know were humanly possible. Things are so much easier and yet, at the same time, he's the Master of Disaster as he tornadoes around the house and leaves a trail of destruction behind. Still, I've never known something so worth celebrating than turning a year old . . . as a family.

Jamie just about fainted when he saw all of the Amazon Priming and planning I've been doing for this first birthday party. Sure, Walden won't remember it. But we'll never forget it. Truth of the matter, it's not about the baby boy; it's about us: Team Walden Weatherford. We made it. We three have begun an incredible journey. And with a few faults here and there, it's still a slam dunk. And that's how Da-Da got over the sticker shock and put on his party hat, too. 

The theme is "It's a Small World," a nod toward what I want my son to know on this Earth. Pictures to follow. Sentiments to arrive soon. And a celebration to never stop. 

It's a world of laughter, a world of tears
It's a world of hopes and a world of fears
There's so much that we share that it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all . . .

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Hope and My Hatchling

This is the first April in two years I have not been pregnant. Two years ago, we were just weeks away from one of the biggest disappointments of my life when our first pregnancy would fail. Last year, I was still holding my breath, hoping all was well as we rounded the corner to the third trimester. This year, I watched in utter awe as my nine-month-old peered into his Easter basket and picked out each item with complete joy. 

Easter is about hope. From something as complicated and brutal as the cross to something as simple as a downy chick hatching on its own, this holy holiday is more of a new year than January 1.  

"We must accept finite disappointment, 
but never lose infinite hope." 
- Martin Luther King, Jr. 

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Nine Months on the Outside

Yesterday, the epic, adorable force that is Jameson Walden Weatherford turned nine-months-old. I can't believe we're already making plans for his first birthday and mulling over preschool. I'm still in shock and awe that I am a "Ma-Ma," and that I am hearing that word come from his mouth, mostly in the right context. This morning, I kept catching him out of the corner of my eye from his high chair, concentrating intently on getting the puffs into his mouth from his tiny, constantly working hands. He really is a little person, no longer a little being in the making. He's here. He's one of us. He can communicate. He can express himself. And he can boogie like nobody's business.

Nine months of motherhood is definitely mind-boggling. I am still new enough at it where I remember glimmers of life before baby. And I've been at it long enough where I can't imagine life any other way. 

The give and take of taking care of your child is just that. Sure, I miss Netflix binges (more than I actually had them!) on a rainy day, but I relish the post-baby-bedtime moments when Jamie and I can get in some television before the heavy lids set in. Last weekend, he even made a pallet on our living room floor just so he and I could truly snuggle while watching a movie. Of course, I fell asleep in about five minutes.

I miss sleeping in, but waking up to Walden's smile is a little heaven on earth way to start the day. I have fallen in love with our family breakfasts in our kitchen - something new to us - with our coffee and ba-bas and an earlier start than the old days.

I miss being able to curl up with a magazine or book on weekend mornings, but I crave the naptime with him on these weekends, where I curl up with him instead and inhale his sweet head. And when he falls asleep during the morning nap, I often crack open that book and read with his sweet, soft-breathing body next to mine.

I miss drinks with friends without all of the air traffic control planning. But now I linger over a glass of wine. Because it's just that - a glass. Gone are those days of too much wine the night before and a day that limps along because of it. 

And while we miss the freedom of whenever, wherever, whatever, when we want it, there is a new dynamic that sits well with my soul. We love our dinners out - even when it's all three of us - because when it goes well, we feel we have it all. And God bless the excuse to leave early from just about anything, at anytime. 

Nine months along and 37 years of my own life seems to be shrinking in the rearview mirror. All the while, this new love of my life seems to be stepping on the gas and making life fly by out the windows. Like that give and take, my baby boy is teaching me to tap the breaks and buckle my seatbelt. 

Life wasn't simpler before he was born. But unbeknownst to me, it was slower than I realized. Real time, family time, our time flies when you're having this much fun. 

all photos by our friend Maryann Bates

Saturday, January 24, 2015

More than a Mouthful -- My Skinny on Breastfeeding

Weighing in on Breastfeeding 

My mother has reminded me for 30-something years that she breastfed me for two of them. And like the many things that mothers wait on for you to *finally* understand, there is and will always be a lot of work, sacrifice and love like no other that goes into this whole motherhood thing -- with breastfeeding definitely requiring all three. 

Breastfeeding wasn't even a question of IF when it came to having a baby. But I was definitely intimidated by the HOW. My husband liked to laugh at the various looks of fear flickering across my face during our baby classes; the breastfeeding one definitely carrying the most discerning . . . and confused look of them all. 

I fretted about how my new nourishing life-life would co-exist with career. Would my busy-enough days be able to make time for such a time-consuming task that required me taking my shirt off several times a day?

And that brought me to the next big worry - what the heck would I wear?

My boob-to-food movement has had its trials and its tribulations. But I'm grateful we found a rhythm and its working. Turns out, I must be half bovine. 

Being a strong milk producer has its drawbacks and its advantages. Nursing is usually not enough - I have to pump to keep up with the [over]flow. I get clogged ducts easily when I don't milk myself for all I've got. That does make my professional life tricky. I've sat through many a meetings now that just wouldn't end, and I could literally feel the painful knots start to form.  

Fortunately, there have been a couple of times where I've actually worked up the nerve at work and said, "Okay, sorry, I need to end this and take care of baby business." Rest assured, nothing ends a meeting faster. But the staff I work with has been good sports about the entire thing. They know when I put up my "Milk is in Session" sign, do not disturb is an understatement. In fact, in the early days, when we were all trying to navigate through the awkwardness of it all, one of my co-workers - a male, mind you - broke the ice and gave us all a good laugh by cueing up Kelis' "Milkshake" when I excused myself. Office life got a little easier after that. 

However, just as soon as you think you have it made, the other week I was minding my own corporate business, pumping away behind my closed office door, sign up, when a visitor stopped by our office, couldn't find anyone upstairs and completely barged into my space. We were both mortified. And yes, I wanted to take my stapler to his forehead. I still don't know who the person was because I turned my back so fast. I just hope his eyeful teaches him a lesson in Closed Door 101. Needless to say, it warranted a trip to Lowes where my husband and I bought a new lock.  

But back to the good stuff. Of course, the advantage of being such a Grade A producer is we always have full bottles of fresh-pressed milk ready for baby boy. We also have a freezer full. We even got to the point where we had two freezers full.

That leads to one of my favorite parts of my breastfeeding journey. I was able to share it. Now, I've heard mama's milk is liquid gold and you can literally make milk money selling what being a mama gave ya. But I also heard body builders buy it in back alleyways, and there's a lot of trickery going on in the breast milk black market. We went the more "Praise God for all whom blessings flow" rate and decided to give away our over-supply. Through the magic of social media, we connected with another local family who needed more milk for their baby boy. So on Thanksgiving week, we loaded up their car with a trunk full of frozen good stuff. I now have the honor and privilege of calling myself a milk maid with our beautiful baby boys sharing a special bottled connection.

Also, one of my favorite discoveries about breastfeeding - milk producing does the body good! I have lost all of my baby weight (40 freakin' pounds I put on!) plus another ten and counting. Now, I know this isn't the case for everyone, and I sure as heck didn't expect this when I was expecting and packing on the pounds. But with breastfeeding being the best diet I've ever been on, there is a good chance my son will nurse until he leaves for college. 

So, breast has been best for me, and I hope I can continue to share my love for making milk to others. Here are my best "Tits and Tricks" (ha!) I'm learning along the way for keeping up with breastfeeding in a busy mama's world:

1. Find a "Breast Friend." There are leagues and websites and message boards, but nothing beats having someone who has been there, done that and can write the book about it. I have a friendship circle of highly successful corporate women who I look up to immensely. When one of them told me how she breastfed for two years for all three children despite having one of the highest-ranked marketing job in our community, I knew there would be no excuses - and I could lean in on her anywhere for support and advice. She even gave me one of her gently loved nursing pillows! The other friend nursed her children for a year despite her crazy corporate climb to the top, and she gave me some of the best advice and encouragement yet, especially when it came to pumping. She also shared her stored milk with another family and shined the light on how special that blessing can be. A lot of these tips came from them. 

2. Don't be afraid to use props. It doesn't mean you are a failure at feeding. Breastfeeding really isn't as clean and dry as the stunning Olivia Wilde and sweet baby Otis. I used a nipple shield the first three months because Walden wasn't quite grasping the latch. It was such an aggravation to make sure I had one handy, attach it, keep it clean and re-attach it when he knocked it off, but on the flip side, I never had blisters or sore nipples. I didn't think he would ever be able to latch without it, but lo and behold, one day it fell off and he went for it . . . . and never needed it again. It requires patience, but breastfeeding is a lesson in taking your time anyway. Other props I used were, of course, the Boppy (I definitely recommend two if you have an upstairs/downstairs situation) and an easy-to-move ottoman. It makes a HUGE difference when you slightly elevate your feet during the feeding. Also, don't underestimate the nursing stool. This is another huge relief for pain in the back and shoulders that comes along with the contortion of letting a little human feed off your chest. Props to my other favorite prop, the Earth Angel Mama Angel Booby Tubes. These can be kept in your freezer for cooling relief or warmed in the microwave for a hot compress. They were definitely my heroes straight from the freezer during the early days of engorgement. And now I use them heated to work out clogged ducts.  

3. Pump up the volume. I started pumping about two-and-a-half weeks after Walden was born. I actually had a goal - the Bragg Jam Festival was happening a month after Walden's arrival, my husband was president of the board for 2014, and I really wanted this to be my first night out on the town. I needed to get into the hang of pumping and have milk on hand for my mom who would be sitting that night. Plus, I was taking a four-week maternity leave and needed to build up my bottle supply. 

In the beginning, I discovered I had more confidence pumping than I did nursing him directly. It probably had a lot to do with the aggravation of the nipple shield. But I actually started researching exclusive pumping and questioning whether I was crazy for wanting to go through such hassle. Still, I began pumping a lot. Because I was producing so much milk, I could actually get relief. Walden took to a bottle quickly, and it helped him eat well as well. When he nursed on me, he always fell asleep within minutes. There were times where I had to nurse him a bit and then go pump, but ultimately, I developed a routine. I should say WE developed a routine. Team Feed Walden Weatherford went into full force. One of my breast friends suggested that by pumping at night, daddy could feed baby. Not only would this help their bonding, but it also helped mama feel like she wasn't a lone soldier in the middle of the night. So, for many nights, there we were - daddy with a bottle. Baby in his arms. And mama hooked up at her pumping station.

The pumping station has been a big part of making milk more comfortable. We set up a comfortable chair, pillow for my back, an overhead reading light and purchased one of those rolling portable desks so I could have my laptop right in front of me. Strap on the hands-free pumping bra, crank up the pump, and this is how came back to life. For almost seven months now, when at home, I've spent a lot of time at my cozy pumping station - reading, writing, watching "Hart of Dixie" on Netflix and amping up my social media game. I can even check emails and get work stuff done. It's definitely helped me feel less cowbell, more productive, please. 

I also have to give props to other props I've used while pumping. I've tried every hands-free pumping bra out there. I recommend having 2-3 because they do get gross. But my favorite, hands-down (or off! ha!) is the Simple Wishes Hands-Free Breastpump Bra. Remember, I pump a lot. The weight of the bottles I were filling, plus the frequency I was filling them, stretched my other bras quickly in all of the wrong places. I also tried this shoe-string-like-thing thinking it would be easier to put on - and I was so wrong. It took forever to figure it out, and when I did, it was like wearing a rope-burn in action. The bad grammar and misspellings in the directions should have also been a clue that this too-good-to-be-true gadget was indeed just that. The Simple Wishes bra adjusts with the weight loss. It also has more secure inlets for the shields to go. It's held up great to the wear, tear and washing. I can even wear it when I really multi-task and put on my make-up and do my hair while standing in my bathroom and pumping, eating my breakfast and drinking coffee and entertaining my baby in his bounce seat all at the same time (BOOM!).

Another thing that has made pump life easier is the small fridge in my office for storing the milk. I also keep large gallon bags handy for my dirty shields (and yes, I put them in the fridge instead of completely cleaning off in between pumping sessions - works for us!). And my pump itself has proven its worth. I use the Medela Pump in Style Advanced Breast Pump with the nifty tote (stylish, well, that's up for debate). There is a reason this little bosom buddy of mine wins all of the reviews. It just checks the boxes. 

Other items I recommend - one of those electric outlet adapters for your car in case you are traveling and need to break out the breast pump (and don't want to fool with battery power). Keep a dish cloth in your pumping bag to wipe up the proverbial spilled milk (I swear that stuff is like lacquer on hard surfaces), as well as a cleaning agent. I like Mrs. Meyers countertop spray or their surface wipes in lavender just to add a tinge of aromatherapy to the work involved. I also use the cloth, washable, re-usable lactation pads for my bra. I found the disposable ones itchy and kind of wasteful. I keep extras in my pumping bag at all times because you never know when you'll have a bleary-eyed morning and forget to stuff your bra . . . only to be reminded by that electrocuting sensation later that your blouse is in danger.

4. Wear it well. Finally, I was in total shock after leaving the maternity wardrobe behind that most of my previous clothing ensembles were not conducive to a breastfeeding, working-mom lifestyle. Who really wants to completely get naked in your office and be hooked up to a breast pump at your desk? No thanks. If I could wave the fashion fairy wand for a minute, I would totally designs amazing nursing dresses. They are so hard to come by! I did find a few basics with fashionable appeal and nursing flaps on Gilt (e-mail me for an invite!), but they are few and far between. I've been buying a lot of blouses and separates. I also found that nursing tanks are easier to access under everything than regular nursing bras, and they have built-in support for these enlarged and in-charge mammaries o'mine. The bright side is it's given a new look to my closet choices, and I'm enjoying the change. On the other side, dang, it takes a lot of money to gain easy access and get the milk for free.
These days, we're a hearty, equal mix of direct nursing and pumping. He's drinking more, so my milk isn't busting out of my bra and my freezer. The other big advice I received is not to put a time limit on breastfeeding. Yeah, it's good to have a goal, but don't look at it as a countdown. I don't know how long I will continue breastfeeding. I'd like at least one year. If I go more, so be it. If I go less, I've given all I got. And yes, the day will come when I will remind him that breasts are not hood ornaments - they are what nourished his life. And he better respect women for that and so much more. 

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Word from the Guru

Moxie. It's one of my favorite words in the English vocabulary. It's one of those words that are hard to describe. You just know it when you see it. You live it when you feel it. Sure, Merriam-Webster is able to define it with courage and determination. But I prefer the Urban Dictionary's various definitions that include synonyms like "balls."

What all definitions of Moxie should say is "see Lauretta Hannon." I connected with the autobiographical Cracker Queen almost a decade ago. The memoir of her "jagged, joyful life" hit me right between the eyes and never left my core. I began stalking her - not in a completely creepy way - but I let my fandom known. Luckily, Lauretta is easier to reach than Dolly Parton. Her book's origins actually take place less than 40 miles from my house. Not only did we have the Central Georgia region in common, but the red clay in between our toes runs even deeper. After a couple of personal correspondences, I declared her my guru. I didn't give her much choice in the matter, but she hasn't disowned me yet. In fact, she's been nudging me along creatively and saying what I need to hear at always the right time. I don't want to gush too much, but my guru is one of my favorite people on Planet Earth.

She recently published her "Invocation for the New Year" in the Marietta Daily Journal. If you need a heavy dose of inspiration and a few action items for your soul, check it out HERE. Once again, all hail the Cracker Queen.

There was a reason I didn't have a pint in this pic, taken in late 2013. 
Lauretta was one of the first people who was let in on the secret that Walden Weatherford was on the way! 

Friday, January 2, 2015

Make New Friends but Keep the Old

Smith and Walden (and their daddies)

It was the Martha Bowman church nursery where I found my friend for life. I was three; she was five, and we finally had enough pushing around from the bratty preacher's kid to band together and take her on. That P.K. never stood a chance . . . or ever shoved us again. Even as a toddler, I still remember that very life-defining moment when I made my first best friend for life. Looking back, it's amazing how April and I found each other. Had we not discovered our friendship naturally, I'm sure there would have been a playdate in our tiny future. Both her dad, legendary studio producer Paul Hornsby, and my dad made a living in the music business. They had collaborated with each other on multiple projects through Capricorn Records, which brought Paul to Macon from Alabama. So it came to be that two children of southern rock instinctively found each other, in a church nursery, of all places. We've been an extension of each other's families ever since. 

Jamie also formed a lifelong friendship in the nursery room at age three. I'm not sure what brought Jamie and Charles Ladson together, but from what I can tell, it's a yin-to-a-yang thang. Charles is a full-time artist. Jamie is a candy manufacturer. They're different, yet have 37 years of common ground between them, starting in the sandbox and seeing it through college and the curveballs life throws along the way. They both turned 40 this month and they both became dads this summer. Charles and his amazing wife Ashley, who co-owns the Hometown Yoga studio, welcomed their son Smith Stallworth Ladson just seven weeks after Walden arrived. 

Our sons' friendship may have been predestined, but it's obvious their souls connect. Maybe friendship translates to DNA. Maybe it's a tribal recognition. Whatever it is, for them, it started in the womb. The other night, we met up for dinner at Greek Corner Pizza. It was an evening of relief and a little bit of celebration - Smith had undergone surgery just a week prior to correct a cleft lip. His recovery has been nothing short of resounding success. Up until then, our boys had barely seen each other. Now, here they were face-to-face, bright-eyed and totally bonded. Legs wiggled, coos were issued and the sweetest smiles we'll never take for granted broke out on both of their faces. It was instantaneous. Even a woman we never met noticed. "Those two will be best friends," she said. "They have a very real connection."

Yesterday, the daddies had an all-dude playdate with their sons. We've all shared dreams of many, many more. We've made plans for mountain adventures and a lifetime of annual camping excursions to Cumberland Island, where Ashley and I can't wait to see our little sun-kissed sons run together on the sands of an unscathed beach amongst wild horses and real wildlife. I have a feeling Smith and Walden are going to have a heck of a story to tell one day. And maybe a few funny ones, just like their daddies. 

This playdate thing is a new concept to me. But among the excitement of being a new mom are the new friends I'm finding along the way as well. It's like the Girl Scouts song that keeps echoing in my head . . . . "Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other's gold."

Among my new mommy friends is Veronica Allen McClendon. I knew who Veronica was prior to our babies being born, but I didn't know her well. In fact, I had read about her and written about her in regards to my full-time job with the College Hill Alliance. Veronica was among the Mercer University undergrads who presented the idea for the College Hill Corridor during their senior year. Their idea caught the attention of the right people, and today, College Hill is considered one of Macon's most successful neighborhood revitalization and economic development projects. 

After Veronica returned to Macon from Duke law school, she set up practice in a historic building just around the corner from my office and my home. I was walking home one evening, big and pregnant, and noticed Veronica leaving her office. She turned around and there was her belly. Next thing you know, we were re-introducing ourselves and realizing our babies were due just a day apart. 

This week, Walden and Veronica's daughter, Ava, rolled around in my living room while we had tea, marveled at their similar sizes and developments and commiserated over being career-driven moms, breastfeeding working women and all things that come with sleeping or lack-of from a six-month-old. Walden and Ava had no idea what we were talking about, but once again, there was that recognition. Friendship may be something that is to be determined, but something tells me that if it's good enough for their moms, it will be good enough for them, too.

There are plenty of playdates in our future. It's a time of discovery for us all. And it's those friendships that will extend our family even further. Here's to seeing others through the eyes of a babe.  

Ava and Walden