Have you heard the term "helicopter parents?"  Well, I ran into a hovering parental unit when I was having my son's hair cut at a local children's hair salon.  It was clearly their daughter's first haircut (let's call her Olivia).  Olivia's mom told the hair specialist tasked with cutting her hair to please shape up her hair without really taking anything off.  As the hair specialist diligently tried her best to cut, without cutting, dad was holding a plastic bag underneath each cut of the scissors while mom took photos of each darling little curl that was released from Olivia's head. It first, I thought, oh, how sweet!  Look at mom and dad so involved in their little girl's first haircut.  Then, big brother, bored with the salon's toys, came over to check in with his parents.  That's when mom said, "We are not done yet, don't bother us, go back and play."  The boy toddled off, just as he was instructed but a bit dejected.

On the way home, I mentioned to my son if he had noticed the

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It's been a rough couple of weeks to say the least.  Long story short, my dad was unexpectedly diagnosed with terminal liver cancer.  In a span of less than four weeks he was gone.  I should preface this by saying that I dearly loved my father and he was worthy of all my affection and admiration.

When I first found out that there was a serious medical problem I was a mess. My 4 year old picked up on this immediately.  "Why are you so sad, Mamma?" he said.  I thought how I am going to tell this precious little boy that the grandfather he adores was really sick and was inevitably going to die.  I was having a hard time wrapping my brain around the concept, myself.  I decided that I wasn't going to run out of the room when the tears hit me, and they did. Instead, I let him see the tears stream down my face. I told him that Mamma was having a really sad day because Papa is really, really sick. That's when it came.  "Is Papa going to die?" he asked. "Probably," I said.  Then I asked him a

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  I lay in bed with my eyes wide open. My husband, John was fast asleep. 

All the signs of pregnancy were there -missed period, tender breasts, and I just felt like something was going on inside my body.   But I had not taken a pregnancy test yet. 

I snuck out of bed, opened the pregnancy test and with the first pee of the morning (recommended by my test) took my home pregnancy test.  Then, I waited.  While it was only three minutes, it seemed like forever.  My heart was pounding because deep down inside, I knew I was pregnant. The small screen finally filled with the word "Pregnant."  My mind was racing with thoughts of my body changing, caring for a baby, and how John and my family would  feel.

I decided to wait until later that day to tell John.  I wanted to do something special.  It was the Friday before our anniversary and we were headed up to Seattle for a quick getaway. At lunchtime, I ran to the store and bought some little white booties.  I was going to wrap them up and give

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We had it all planned out - my Mom came down from Seattle about two days before my scheduled induction.  We spent the last few days "pre-baby" relishing in the anticipation and her assuring me that I would have an easy labor just like she did.  My induction date was delayed three days - it seemed like three weeks.

After a wonderful experience at the hospital, we brought baby home on the Fouth of July.  My Mom had planned a party  for our homecoming with friends and family for that evening.  What a great way to welcome baby home, I thought.  What I didn't realize was how utterly exhausted we would be. I was delighted to show off our baby, but it was difficult to do anything but nurse him, get something in my stomach and keep my eyes open.  

If I had to do it all over again, I would have given ourselves a least a couple of days of recuperation time before throwing a party in honor of our newest arrival. My friend Rebecca enforced a two week "no visitors" rule after their daughter was

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For many a working mom, getting the phone call from daycare that baby is sick is something that we dread.  Not only, because our precious darlings are miserable and we want to make them feel better, but the work-life balance is such a delicate dance that any interruption to the carefully orchestrated schedule results in immediate loss of order.

For me, the call came twice this week.  "Caroline has a fever and you need to come get her." My first reaction is "Oh, poor baby," and then it hits me, "Oh my goodness, I have so much to do at work how can I ever possibly leave!"   It is dilemma that pulls at us working moms who are dedicated to our jobs, adore our kids and try with all our might to do the best job possible with both.  

 For me, I have to stop myself from dwelling over the feelings of letting people down - whether it's my employer or my child.   I think the bottom line, is we need to cut ourselves some slack because soon enough the dance will begin again!

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Have you decided who you want (or don't want) in the birthing suite during the birth of your baby? 

Before I had my kids, I was lucky enough to experience my sister giving birth to her daughter. It was not something that was planned, but her labor went quicker than expected and before we knew it, it was time to for her to push.  She asked that my Mom and I stay with her for the delivery.  How exciting it was to see new life come into the world.  It sounds sappy, but the look on my sister's face after giving birth to Katie was pure joy. 

For me, giving birth signified the start of my own family and I wanted it to be an intimate experience for just my husband and me.  So, we choose to have our birthing experience be a more private one. 

Whatever your decision, it will be the right one for you.  Whether you want a cast of thousands or just your partner, it is your experience and together with your doctor, you decide how you want to welcome your baby into the world.

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Choosing the names of our kids was no easy task.  Talk about responsibility! My husband and I went about it in a very methodical manner.  We decided that we would hold off on getting serious about the name game until we found out the gender of our baby. Yeah, right! As soon as I was pregnant I was online tracking down the most popular baby names, putting those names with our last name and even thinking about my favorite names for my dolls as a child (Rachel and Priscilla were at the top of the list).

Once we found out that our baby was a girl, I wrote down a list of the names that I really liked.  Then, he could then look at the list and see if we had a "match." Well, we didn't get off that easily.  He told me the names he hated and we were left with a list of names that he was lukewarm on and I was crazy about.  Months went by and still no name.  Finally, we narrowed it down to two names Lauren and Caroline.  I tossed around these two names in my head for weeks. I would ask friends

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AHHHH, Mother's Day... The one day that is set aside just for us! 

Was your Mother's Day just any like any other day or were you treated like a princess (or at least not the maid)?  From the start it seemed like any other day for me.  My husband went  into the office in the morning (yes, even on a Sunday) and I was home with the little ones.  My almost four year old had requested blueberry pancakes.  My memories of my Dad making homemade pancakes flooded my mind.  How could I refuse such a simple request?  So, together, we cracked the eggs, sifted the flour (okay, we didn't really sift it, we just dumped it in the bowl) and finally added the blueberries.  The baby was getting envious.  She wanted breakfast and she made it clear, like only baby number two can.  I put her in the highchair.  By the time my husband rolled in I was feeding the baby with one hand and flipping pancakes in the other.  "Happy Mother's Day" he said! - Sigh -

After breakfast, we hopped in the car for an outing at

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My daughter had turned six months old and as new moms know, this is a major milestone in the food department.  She was ready to join the world of cereal, winter squash, strained carrots, peas, and bananas!  At her first offering, she was less than impressed. Her lips tightened, her head turned away from the approaching spoon and it was clear, she wanted nothing to do with this strange smelling substance that looked nothing like milk.  I had to get creative.  The next time I offered her baby food.  I started by giving her a bottle.  After she took a couple sips, and relaxed in its familiarity.  Then, I quickly removed the bottle and snuck in a spoon-full of cereal.  She wasn't happy about, but at least I got her to try it.  We played this game of cat and mouse for awhile. Finally, she began to acceptand enoy  this foreign substance in her mouth

Now, at 12 months, I am at another milestone.  Table food!  While some infants are able to eat bread, pasta, cottage cheese, and other "real

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Pregnancy is a time of such vulnerability.  Your body is on display for the entire world to see - and comment on.  From the sickness of early pregnancy to the cute baby bump of the second trimester and finally "this baby is taking over" feeling of the final weeks before delivery. It's hard to ignore the transformations that occur during pregnancy. 

When I revealed I was pregnant, I thought my pregnancy was about me.  But in many ways, pregnancy is a catalyst for others to relive their journey to parenthood. The stories poured out of people so easily and joyously. Some heeded warnings, others delighted in sharing the intimate details of their experience, and once distant acquaintances, became friends.

In many ways I found pregnancy to be a rite of passage.  I felt like I had entered an exclusive club and just through being pregnant, I had gained a deeper connection to others.  So for me, pregnancy did make me feel more vulnerable but maybe that's the way the heart prepares itself to

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