Summer Lynn Photography GIVEAWAY!

I am so excited about today’s post! My wonderful and generous friend, Heather of Summer Lynn Photography, is hosting a giveaway for Tickled Peach readers! Make sure you read to the end to hear about the giveaway!

I first met Heather last summer. I was 35 weeks pregnant, had completely procrastinated on making plans for my maternity pictures, and was on the hunt for someone who could accommodate me ASAP. I asked for recommendations from friends, and Summer Lynn Photography was a name I kept hearing over and over.

My first maternity session got cancelled because my blood pressure was through the roof the day I was supposed to take my pictures. Thankfully, Heather was able to fit me in at 37 weeks – just four days before I was induced. Nothing like waiting until the last minute, huh?

maternity collage

I emailed Heather some pretty specific instructions of what I wanted before my session. She really listened! I didn’t really want “maternity” pictures; I wanted family pictures in which I was pregnant, and I think we made that happen!


Two weeks later we met again to shoot Sullivan’s newborn photos. I LOVE how they turned out. We did them at Heather’s house, and again, she was so accommodating! My husband, my newborn, my 3 year old, and I took over her house. My husband and I pretty much handed over the baby to her and let her do her thing while we desperately attempted to make sure that Cooper did not trash her house.


She had my husband and I jump in for some impromptu shots, and I love how they turned out, especially this picture of Jason and Sully.

fall pic collage

We scheduled a fall mini session just three weeks later. Sweet Sully slept through the whole thing, and Cooper was an absolute nightmare. Whew! I was a mess of nerves by the time we left, but sweet Heather just laughed and did her best to work with him. He did not want to listen or do anything we asked to do, but she just kept encouraging him and making jokes until she got the perfect shot.


I can’t resist the allure of a mini session (a mini session is a 30 minute session in which you’re guaranteed a specific number of edited photos at a discounted price) so we headed back for Christmas minis a few weeks later. I believe Jason asked on the way “exactly how many pictures can we have made before we admit we are vain?”

Then, another month later, I decided that I wanted to have family pictures made as a Christmas present for my parents. My brother and I have never had professional pictures made of ourselves and our families, so I contacted Heather to see if she could book us for a session.


My niece and nephew – who hate having their pictures made – were perfect angels, while Cooper, once again, was a terror. Doesn’t he look sweet? This day he made Heather work for those shots.


In March I emailed Heather because I wanted to have some updated photos I could use on the Tickled Peach website. I had some very specific ideas. I wanted to get a shot of Cooper blowing confetti – I wanted to use balloons – and I wanted fun, happy shots.

springfam Collage

Haha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Poor Heather. Poor, sweet Heather who always has to deal with my stubborn child and does so with a smile on her face. Cooper would not cooperate, but she tried again and again to get the shots I wanted. Our session was one hour but she spent more time with us just so I would be satisfied with the pictures.


Bless her heart. I remain convinced we are the most difficult client she has.

I use Heather for our family photos for many reasons. For one, she is the most positive, upbeat person that I know. She has the patience of a saint – and trust me, my child has tested that patience. She is wonderful with children! Cooper turns into a stubborn mule the instant a camera is pointed at him, and Heather just patiently works with him until she gets a perfect shot. Seriously – long past the point where I am a raving madwoman, Heather is still laughing and smiling with my child. She makes the entire process of having pictures made so pleasant. Her focus is on shooting natural pictures of your family, so you are encouraged to interact and have fun and watch how your love for one another comes across on the camera. She is phenomenally talented and extremely affordable!

Here are some other examples of Heather’s work:


I’m really excited about the special packages Summer Lynn Photography has going on right now! The Watch Me Grow package includes four photo sessions including newborn, tummy, sitting up, and 1 year. It is extremely affordable at $425, and you can even spread the cost out through your four sessions. You can add a maternity session for an additional $75.

In addition, she’s offering a Watch Me Grow Big package for older children! Choose from either four or six sessions to capture memories of your child’s special moments.

Contact Summer Lynn Photography for more information!

Ready for the GIVEAWAY?

Summer Lynn Photography is giving away a 30 minute portrait session to one lucky Tickled Peach reader! You will receive up to 10 images on a disk. The session will take place at an outdoor location of your choice.

To enter to win, head over to Tickled Peach’s Facebook page!

{One additional entry will be given for each comment on this post!}



It’s time for #tpc, y’all! This is our 7th week, can you believe it? I feel like it has been forever since I’ve gotten some confessions off my chest. Let’s get started!


A few weeks back, I was taking off my makeup in the bathroom. Cooper asked me where one of his toys was, and I told him to ask his dad. He said “I bet it is at Great Will.” Huh? “Who’s Great Will?” I asked. Cooper replied “you know, the place you take my toys when you get tired of them.”


I laugh because it is true.


Jason isn’t a big TV watcher. He is one of those people who likes to have the TV on all.the.time as background noise, but he doesn’t have a big list of shows he is dedicated to watching. The minute he walks into the door, he turns on Fox News and it is on until I finally lose it and demand he either change the channel or turn it off.

Don’t get me wrong – Fox News is my preferred news channel, but *gasp* I really don’t want to listen to the news. I do stay informed (mainly through Jason, who wants to talk current events 24/7) but I just find it all very depressing. I suffer from major anxiety and if I was to sit and listen to the news all day I’d never sleep. When I was working, I figured (as a social worker) that I saw and heard enough bad things throughout the day – I just really didn’t need to hear more when I came home.

I know some of you are appalled by that. I get it. It isn’t that I am ignorant or that I am uninformed – like I said, I know the gist of what’s current news, but I just don’t feel the need to inundate myself with what’s wrong in the world. For me, it stresses me out and causes me to worry.

I’ve gotten super off track. The point of this was to say that Jason’s favorite show is The O’Reilly Factor. Cooper and I do not share his enthusiasm. In fact, when Cooper hears the credits for the show, he scream “OH NO! Not the O’Reilly Factor! Me and my mom don’t like that show!”


Can we talk about how I hate background noise? Really, I hate noise of any kind. I don’t like to have the TV on unless I’m watching a show. I don’t listen to the radio in the car. The only time I listen to music is when I’m working out or I’m cleaning. My kids talk, scream, or cry and I just cannot have anything extra contributing to the noise level. Not to mention my husband starts talking the minute he walks in the door and doesn’t stop until he goes to bed. Silence really is golden to me!


Is it weird that I don’t listen to the radio when I’m in the car? Cooper does ask to listen to his CDs (Frozen soundtrack or Veggie Tales) but when I’m alone it is complete silence. And it is lovely.


What do you have to confess this week?



(Both the title of this post and a rather awesome slow Jodeci slow jam from my high school days…)

I’ve found it quite hard to get back in the swing of things lately. I’ve just been off and not myself. It’s a little PPD, a little of the summer doldrums, and a lot of loss.

On August 11th my grandmother went into the hospital for what we thought was a routine procedure. She’d been having shortness of breath and chest pains so her cardiologist wanted to perform a cardiac catheterization. Basically, it is procedure where they shoot dye into your arteries to see if there are any blockages. My mom called me around 10:00 a.m. to say one artery was 98% blocked and they had to do immediate open heart surgery. One oh-so-helpful hospital aide actually said to my mom “I can’t believe she hasn’t died in her sleep!” Thanks for that visual, dude.

She made it through surgery and we expected a long, tough recovery. I went to see her that night and the following days. While she was definitely not herself and was in quite a lot of pain and a little loopy, I was still able to talk to her and tell her I loved her.

The following Monday, she started hallucinating, seeing and talking to family members who had passed away. She wouldn’t sleep and my mom, who was staying with her in ICU, reported she was extremely agitated. She finally fell asleep after being up about 24 hours early Tuesday morning. She never woke up again.

When she couldn’t be roused a CT scan was ordered and was performed Wednesday. The news was not good, but they wanted us to wait and consult with a neurologist before making any decisions or really making a ruling on her condition. I took the kids up to the hospital on Wednesday afternoon and waited on the neurologist to arrive.

The neurologist came late that afternoon, around 6pm, and spoke to my mom, aunt, and grandfather privately. My mom called us all back into a private room shortly after to share the news – my grandmother had had a major stroke and was, for all intents and purpose, brain dead. She would not wake up and was expected to live just a few days.

That was hard. I mean, of course it was hard but it was even harder because it was so unexpected. I kept thinking – you’re kidding me, right? Of all surviving three grandparents, my Mama Betty seemed to be in the best of health. She’d been walking around, shopping it up, just two weeks prior. She’d survived open heart surgery and the insertion of a pacemaker just to die of a stroke?

But our plans are not God’s plan – I know that.

It’s been a rough couple of weeks, for sure. It’s hard to lose a grandparent. It’s hard to see your grandfather and mother grieve. Loss of any type is hard. I know my Mama Betty, had she been able to talk to us, would have said she was excited to go to Heaven. I know she’s not in pain and she’s rejoicing and celebrating with our other family members.

Death isn’t hard on the one who dies; it is hard on the ones that are left behind.

I keep thinking of all these things I wish I had asked her. You always think you will have more time, and even though I am sure most of us say that we live by a “seize the day!” attitude, do we? Do we really? There are so many things I want to know. What it was like being a working woman in the 1940’s? How did she live on her salary of $10 a week? What was it like to get married at 16? What are her secrets to a successful 64 year marriage?

I never asked, because I thought I had time.

Friends, do you have time? Do any of us? You just never know. Ask your questions now. Let your loved ones know your feelings. Hug them tight.

You just never know.

#tpconfessions, week 6!

It’s time for #tpconfessions, week 6!


Am I the only one that is fascinated by infomercials? I mean, all it takes is an appearance by Richard Karn and I’m hooked. I recently fell victim to the lures of the Pocket Hose. FYI, it absolutely DOES leak. However, it is so light weight and easy to move that I put up with the leaking.


Two weeks ago I drove to Aiken to visit my mom at the law firm where she works. The runner (someone who does errands for the paralegals and lawyers) was a friendly young man who took up some time with Cooper while I visited. As we were leaving, my mom said “Andrea, this is James’s oldest son” and I almost fell out in the floor. I was a teenager myself when I babysat this young man! Who is now in college!

Nothing like seeing a child all grown up to make you realize how old you truly are.


On a related note, am I the only one who thinks of themselves as younger than you actually are? Most days I think college was just a few short years ago (and for the record, I graduated college in 200112 years ago). Woof. A song will pop up on my iPhone and I’m all like “this is my jam!” and then I’ll realize the BareNaked Ladies were popular in 1999 and I’m pretty sure one of the members is now in jail.

Also who says “that’s my jam!”? Someone who is old, that’s who.


For yet more proof that I am A) old and B) uncool I present to you this evidence:


I’m naturally a brunette. My hair is very dark brown. I’ve been coloring my hair since I was in high school… at first it was because I like change, and now it is a necessity to cover grey. One color I’ve never done is blonde, but I’m headed that way because my grey is OUT OF CONTROL. Literally 3 weeks after I color the grey around my hairline starts to take over my hair. UGH. One day I will embrace the grey but until then I’ll color. I’m going to slowly go lighter in hopes of being able to cover the grey and get more time between coloring.


Also? Further evidence I am A) old and B) uncool:


On a rare date night, where did the husband and I choose to go? Carrabbas, the Dollar Store, and Publix. I’m pretty sure mall walking and scooters are in our near future.


What do you have to confess today?

#tpconfessions, week 5!

It’s Friday and you know what that means? It is time for #tpconfessions, week 5! Come on, friends, play along! I want to hear your confessions, too. Leave a comment here or on our Facebook page. Play along on social media by using the hashtag #tpconfessions. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve got to say!


This week is a special Father’s Day edition of #tpconfessions. I asked my husband to spill the dirt on me – what irks him, what drives him crazy, what makes him mad at me. He’s got some doozies for you!


In our kitchen, we converted one of our cabinets to have pull out trash cans. There are two trash cans in the cabinet, and both come out when you pull on the handle. Andrea will take both bags of trash out, but she’ll only put one trash bag in the bin – she leaves the other empty. What’s up with that? It drives me insane.

In my defense, my reasoning for doing this is to make myself take the trash out more often. Tiny baby = smelly diapers. I put one bag in to remind myself to take the trash out daily.


Every single night Andrea waits until I put my pajamas on and get settled in the bed – and then she asks me to go downstairs and get her a glass of water. Or her Kindle. Or a snack. She asks for something, every single night.

I don’t do this every single night. But I do cop to doing it most nights.


Andrea never fills her car up with gas. Conveniently, she always needs gas when I’m driving her car.

Hey now! Right back at you! It drives me insane when you drive my car and when I get in it the next morning the gas light is on. Don’t drive my car and not fill it up!


Andrea puts on deodorant like a monkey.

Ha! I do! I use my right hand to do my left armpit, but my right armpit I just bend my right hand down and apply.


Andrea leaves the kitchen cabinets open. At least one cabinet is open in our kitchen at all times.

Ok, I’ve got a story behind this one…

When I was in graduate school at the College of Charleston, I worked as a Residence Hall Director in Berry Residence Hall. The building was historic, and rumor has it that it once housed an orphanage. Apparently in the 1800s there was a fire and many children died. Berry has always been rumored to be haunted. I worked in a different dorm the year before, and my coworker who lived there always talked about her residents complaining about their lights turning on and off, radios turning on unexpectedly, doors slamming, etc. I never believed any of it.

Until I moved in…

I was there just a few weeks when I started noticing weird happenings. I’d wake up in the morning and my cabinets would be open when I knew they were shut the night before. This happened almost nightly. I wasn’t thrilled about it but it seemed kind of harmless so I just prayed to Jesus every night and let it go.

One night I woke up in the middle of the night. My room was freezing cold and I KNEW, I just knew that if I turned over I would see someone standing to the side of my bed. I mean I have never been so certain of anything in my life. So I did what any logical person would do – I shut my eyes and prayed for the ghost to leave. About 10 minutes later, the feeling went away and the temperature returned to normal, and I turned over. There was nothing there, but my door was open – and I had shut it before I went to bed.


During Christmas break, my co-RHD and I continued to live in the building. All the students were of course gone home and we were the only ones in residence. On Friday night we were both in our apartments (separately – they were located across the hall from one another) when we heard noises on the floor above us. We both ran out of our apartments at the same time and screamed “did you hear that?!” Doors were slamming on the floor above us – we could hear them opening and shutting one right after another as if someone was going down the hall in a row. Then we heard footsteps running in the hallway. Let me tell you – I’ve never been so scared in my life. I no joke peed my pants. I was so scared I peed my pants. I’m admitting on the Internet that I peed my pants. We huddled in the entrance in abject terror while we waited on Public Safety to arrive. They searched the entire building and found no one.

After that I had a come to Jesus conversation with the ghosts. I felt ridiculous, but I went into my apartment, lit some candles, and informed the ghosts that they could not continue their shenanigans. Haunt the girls who gave me grief about confiscating their alcohol, but leave me alone. From that point on I prayed every night not to see a ghost, and while my cabinets continued to open, I never did hear or see anything ever again. Thank goodness.

Anywhoodle, I think I leave the cabinets open unconsciously. I mean, if I do it a ghost can’t, right?


What are your confession this week?

#tpconfessions, week 4!


It’s Friday, and that means it is time for another round of #tpconfessions! Can you believe we are already on week 4?

I’m doing something different this week – I’m confessing my pet peeves! I have many.


I cannot stand when you go through a drive through and the cashier hands you your beverage with drink all over the side. I’d prefer my coke to be on the inside of the cup and not the outside, mmmkay? Seriously, is it that much work to just wipe the cup down before you hand it away?


My husband is incapable of loading the dishwasher. The dishwasher can be completely empty and the sink perfectly clean, but he will still lay dirty dishes in the sink instead of putting them in the dishwasher. When he does load the dishwasher, he puts three things in it (i.e. lays a plate ON TOP of the bottom rack) and says it is full.

Listen, two things I can do are pack a trunk and fill the dishwasher. That sucker is completely full when I run it. Tetris was a valuable life skill after all.


It annoys me when you are driving and you hear someone honk behind you and you aren’t sure why. Are they honking at me? What did I do? Is my tire flat? Is there a drink on top of the car? WHO HONKED AT ME AND WHY?


I have a special talent for picking my seat in church. It does not matter where I sit in the sanctuary – a little old lady who wants to practice her opera will sit behind me and will praise the Lord (loudly). Let everyone who has breath praise the Lord, right? Sing it loud and sing it proud.


I love Chick-Fil-A. (CFA, for those of you in the know.) Love. I go there at least once a week. Good food, good service, and entertainment for my kids – what more could I ask for? My tiniest complaint is that I feel rushed when I go through the drive through. I feel like they literally throw my food at me when I get to the window. Go away, lady, you’re ruining our record of serving 545 people in the drive through at lunch time!

What do you have to confess this week?

Great Expectations

Expectation: the act of state of looking forward or anticipating

Expectations. We all have them.

I expect that the bagger at Publix will offer to help me out with my food.I expect that my friends and family will call me and wish me a Happy Birthday. I expect that I will have fun when I get together with my girlfriends.

Expectations are a great thing when the thing we expect is true. The problem, however, is when our expectations don’t match up to our reality.

I’ll use myself and my husband as an example of what I’m talking about.

Just weeks after my husband and I got married, he disappeared under the ocean for a 3 month deployment. The entire time he was gone, I built up what homecoming would look like in my head. I just knew we would lock eyes with each other across the pier, we’d run to one another, and we’d passionately kiss and profess our love for one another. I built up that moment in my head for months.

I expected. And I was disappointed.

My husband had been in a submarine for 3 months. He’d seen sunshine just a handful of times. He hadn’t shaved. He smelled of boat (a smell which I cannot adequately describe – it is a cross between diesel fuel, smelly socks, and the odor of 100 men). He had work he had to do before he could greet me, and he had to stay on the boat for the night before he could come home.

I waited for an hour before he made his way over to me. He strolled over; he did not run. At this point my sexy outfit had wrinkled and wilted in the heat. I had a sunburn and my heels were giving me blisters. Still, I held out hope for that romantic moment I had dreamed of in my head.

I expected. And I was disappointed.

Reality: my husband strolled over, quickly hugged me, gave me a peck of a kiss, and told me he wouldn’t be coming home with me that night because he had duty. He chatted about something incredibly banal while I silently argued with him in my head.

Why didn’t you kiss me? Do you not love me anymore? I don’t CARE about what so-and-so did at halfway night. DO YOU NOT SEE MY PRETTY OUTFIT? Do you not want to scoop me up and twirl me around? WHERE IS MY PERFECT MOVIE MOMENT?!

In no time at all, my husband was called back to work and I headed home. Disappointed. Let down. Feeling like my marriage was failing and something was wrong with me. All because I had expectations, and my reality did not meet them.

The next day my husband came home. He professed his love. We passionately kissed. He gifted me a journal where he had written me letters while he was underway. I had my romantic moment; it just didn’t look like the moment I had created in my head.

My poor husband. That wouldn’t be the last time I put the weight of my expectations on his shoulders.

I have talked before about how my husband isn’t the greatest gift giver. My husband is great at so many other things, but he isn’t by nature a thoughtful person. I love to give gifts; it is my love language. I also love to receive gifts. It makes me feel special and appreciated. Unfortunately my husband does not love to buy gifts.

It’s become a bone of contention in our marriage, unfortunately.

Every single birthday, Christmas, and Mother’s Day I expect something from my husband. I expect that he is going to put a lot of thought into a gift. I expect that he is going to really think about me, the things I enjoy, and what is important to me. He’s going to go shopping and select the one item that will sum up his love for me.

I expect. And I’m disappointed.

Because that is just not who my husband is. It isn’t. It hasn’t been him in the 10 years we’ve been married. I can almost guarantee that my husband will do one of two things: 1) he will forgot the occasion completely or 2) he will run out the night before or the day of and buy me the first thing he sees.

Every Mother’s Day, every birthday, every Christmas I am disappointed. I’m mad. I’m bratty. And why? Why? Because I didn’t get the perfect imaginary gift that I am perfectly capable of buying for myself? Because I have somehow linked the ability to give gifts and feel love for someone together? Because my expectations are too high?

My expectations will never match up to my reality because my expectations are too big.

The problem with expectations is that you cannot control other people, how they act, or how they react. It is fine to have expectations for yourself. Great! Expectations can push us to work hard or achieve. Think about it: we expect to lose 2 pounds this week, so we work out 5 times at the gym. We make a to-do list each morning, and we work to achieve what we have written. We want to make an A in our graduate class, so we do our best work.

I think it is OK to have expectations as long as our expectations are realistic. My husband expects a certain level of cleanliness when he comes home for the day. He expects dinner to be served. He expects that I will pay the bills, do the grocery shopping, and that our kids will be alive at the end of the day.

He expects, but his expectations are realistic. He also is able to adjust when his expectations are not met. He understands if I’ve had a rough day with the kids and was not able to pick up the house. He understands if I’m tired and don’t feel like cooking. He understands if I didn’t get to go to the grocery store because things popped up during the day.

My problem is that I have always had unrealistic expectations of people. I project my expectations onto them, and then my feelings are hurt or disappointed because my expectations did not match reality. I expect the perfect gift from my husband. I expect that my girlfriend will drop what she is doing to listen to my latest meltdown. I expect that when I take my kids to see Santa that I will get the magical moment on camera.

Do you struggle with your expectations?

#tpconfessions, week 3!


Happy Friday! Thank goodness it is the weekend, amIright? Do you have any special Memorial Day plans? It will be a low key weekend for us but I am looking forward to getting my grays did by my lovely hair stylist on Saturday!

Let’s get started!


My husband and I bought a gigantic wooden playset from Costco oh, what? A month ago? Six weeks ago? My neighbors could probably answer that. My husband promptly took it out of its many boxes, spread it all over the backyard, and left it there. In his defense he’s been working long hours and every time he’s home long enough to work on it the weather has been terrible. Fingers crossed we make some real progress this weekend!



I’ve had a rough two weeks. Rough. From receiving some stressful news to dealing with an out of control preschooler, I have been at my wit’s end more than I’d like to admit. I made a big batch of peach sangria Monday and it has been soothing my nerves every night since.

The husband approved of the sangria, as you can see from his photobomb.



My name is Andrea, and my child’s pack and play currently holds our clean laundry.


What do you need to confess this week?

Welcome to Summer! Fun Ideas for the Kids

Preschool ended for my three year old last Thursday, and if you are like me you are both excited and nervous regarding summer break. I’m excited that we don’t have a set schedule. We don’t have anywhere we absolutely must go and no time we must be there by. I’m looking forward to days at the pool, going for walks, picnics, and playtime outside.

However, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t the tiniest bit apprehensive about keeping my preschooler out of trouble. Cooper does not do downtime well. If he isn’t engaged, he’s getting himself into trouble. In fact, as I write this I am attempting to calm myself after finding that he decided to “experiment” and see what would happen when he poured nail polish remover on my hope chest. Deep breaths, deep breaths…. In case you are wondering the results of that experiment: nail polish eats away at the varnish on your furniture, leaving your treasured future hand-me-down in desperate need of refinishing.

Deep breaths, deep breaths….

Before all this happened, I decided to put together a “Welcome to Summer” basket for my boy. (I will be holding on to this basket until his behavior improves.) It is no secret that I love celebrations, and what better way to welcome summer than with a gift basket? I scoured dollar spots and clearance aisles for some fun summer gifts.


The basket is from the Target Dollar Spot ($3), as are the shovels, water gun, water balloon, Jake & the Neverland Pirates puzzle, squishy critter, Crazy 8 card game, bath finger paints, and bug magnifying glass. I also purchased a beach towel, a pool toy (the Mickey weeble wobble thingamajig), and the Spiderman sprinkler.

If you decide to put together a basket, here are some other ideas of things you can include:

  • Water shoes
  • A new bathing suit or coverup
  • Sunscreen
  • Sunglasses or a hat
  • Floaties or a life jacket
  • Pool toys, floats, or noodles
  • Water balloons
  • Water guns
  • Football or frisbee
  • Croquet set
  • Sand toys
  • Beach ball

One thing that I do for birthdays that would also be perfect for celebrating summer vacation is door streamers! How fun would it be for your child to wake up and see this when he or she opens their door?


My child loves balloons – how about sneaking in their room with some helium balloons? You could also greet them at the car line or bus stop with a character balloon!


My friend Rebecca from R We There Yet Mom? greets her kids with a special surprise when they get off the bus on the last day of school. One year it was a water gun fight, another a water balloon fight… Click on the picture to see Rebecca’s other ideas on how to welcome summer!

Welcome Summer

How do you celebrate the end of the school year and the beginning of summer?

#tpconfessions, week 2


Time for round two of #tpconfessions! Did you play along last week? You can leave your confession in the comments, write a blog post and leave the link in the comments, or use the hashtag on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter. Let’s get started!


#momfail. Last week I was trying to get some cleaning done, so I stuck my 8 month old in the bouncy seat that we haven’t used since he was 2 months old. I turned on Baby Einstein in hopes that it would buy me the time to vacuum. When I turned around just a few seconds later, he was upside down on the bed, hanging by the belt that secures the baby into the bouncer. #parentingwin


Remember my hair confession last week? I got a blow out on Saturday and I haven’t washed my hair yet (I’m writing this on Thursday). I know.


Do you do the mommy sway? I do. I bet you do, too. I do it even when I’m not holding my baby. When I’m standing still, I find myself unconsciously swaying back and forth as if I’m trying to rock a baby. I do it when I’m having conversations with my friends. I do it when I am standing to sing in church. I do it when I’m blow drying my hair. The mommy sway – it’s a real thing,  y’all.


Am I the only one that sweats like a pig when trying to get out of the door on time? This is especially true when I am running around getting ready for doctors appointments, church, or school. I spend tons of time putting on makeup and straightening my hair, and by the time I get everyone else dressed and ready to go I look like I’ve ran 5 miles. Well, I look like I imagine I would look if I ran. Which I do not. Unless someone is chasing me. Even then I’d only run if I thought I stood a chance of getting away.


What are your confessions this week?

P.S. My Cinco de Mayo decorations are totally still up. I did make tacos this week, so I told myself we were having a fiesta.