Introducing Children to the Wonder of Prenatal Development


Mommy, mommy!  Look at my blood.

My breath caught in my throat as I heard my daughter screaming this while running in from the backyard. Normally tears accompany blood, but this girl of mine is tough, real tough.

I exhaled, as a quick look assured me she wasn’t leaving a trail of blood; she is simply filled with wonder…  Wonder at how she was made, wonder at the miracle of pregnancy and making connections with what she looked like while in my tummy with what she can see now.

A few weeks ago, my friend Danika Cooley’s new book, Wonderfully Made, arrived in our mailbox.  I hadn’t really talked to Greta about that since there was no obvious reason to do so.  But she has been full of questions for a while as we see pregnant ladies at church or at our weekly park day!  She is at the age where she is asking all kinds of questions about babies and how they bake.  And with her aunt having a little girl this summer, those questions are not going away anytime soon!

Since I know that many of you have new babies coming or already snuggled in your arms, I wanted to share about this book with y’all.  I’m a firm believer in giving our kids accurate, age-appropriate information.

This book definitely fits the bill. Kids who read and comprehend the material in this book will understand more than most of the college students who took my Human Anatomy and Physiology lab at the university. {I was amazed at the responses my students gave on my reproductive anatomy and physiology quizzes.  Apparently years of sex-ed taught them next to nothing about pregnancy, even questions as basic as where does the baby develop… }

The beautiful thing is that this isn’t a book about someone else’s pregnancy.  Nope. This book delightfully connects our children with their own development. It takes you back down what would be memory lane if we could remember and gives us nearly a week by week look at development.

Here is the page that Greta was referencing when she noticed (again) the veins she could see on her hands.


This book is perfect for every child, but I can see how it would be extra special and a fun resource to have around if you are expecting a baby and want to bring your older kids into the wonder of it all since they could easily reference the book at each stage of your pregnancy.

For us, we are content to simply be filled afresh with the wonder of being wonderfully made.

Challenges of blogging... When your son plays with the settings on the phone...

Pregnant and/or looking for hands-on ideas to learn about pregnancy and fetal development: I shared about what we did here!


Our Rock Pile: Miracles and an Allergy Update


My boys love to pile stones…  I can’t help but go in my mind to remembering.  In the Bible, they served as memorials – reminders of God’s faithfulness.

I hinted a while ago about the miracle that we’ve been experiencing over here when I showed pictures of Greta eating her first Smore.

That picture of her first smore was a pile of rocks that we’ve erected to remind ourselves of the miracle that He’s done and is doing in her life.

Let me rewind and give you all an update for those that haven’t been following my {infrequent} allergy updates.  Greta’s birth 2 years ago was a joyous occasion. I may not have felt that way at the time, but childbirth memories have a way of fading fast as we wax nostalgic. It was beautiful, albeit painful.

It didn’t take long however after our little Greta Girl joined the family to discover that something was different. She cried, inconsolably, all the time.  Did I mention, ALL.THE.TIME… I was also dealing with the move of my sister’s family across the country {sniff, sniff} and my dad’s cancer diagnosis and subsequent relocation to California for 9 weeks of treatment just days after Greta was born.

But this crying was starting to wear on all of us. Just days before my sister moved, she mentioned the possibility of a dairy allergy as an explanation for her colic. This ice-cream lover couldn’t even begin to fathom that. I kept telling her, “But what if it isn’t dairy and I end up giving up ice-cream and cheese for no reason???”  I’m the picture of selfless love, aren’t I?

Thankfully, God in his kindness broke through to me not soon after that through two friends who’ve navigated serious food allergies with their own children. As I began to whine again, my friend looked me in the eye and appealed to Greta’s obvious pain. This jolted me out of my selfish thinking and I proceeded to start an elimination diet.

Sure enough, dairy was a culprit – along with a whole slew of other foods. And this was the start of our journey into the realm of food intolerances and allergies.

My life was turned upside down as I learned how to cook in a completely different way. At Christmas that year, I made the mistake of eating a few bites of mashed potatoes that had dairy in it. Sure enough the screaming commenced again and the poor girl had bloody stools that week.

This served as a wake-up call.

The next year and a half had us pursuing some alternative treatment with our chiropractor which proved helpful. But she still struggled with horrible cradle cap and I constantly had to be evaluating and re-evaluating what I was eating and what was triggering her body to react at that particular time.

Horrible Cradle Cap

Throughout all of this, our family prayed. We prayed for God to heal our baby girl. The gravity of the situation didn’t really start to sink in until she reached her 1st birthday {the pic above was taken shortly before her 1st birthday}. People were making concerned comments about her scalp and I was facing the fact that I couldn’t simply control my diet and breastfeed her forever.   She would have to face this specialized diet herself.  Finally at a year, she was developing quite an interest in solid food.

We began praying in earnest for her cradle cap. I was on a downward spiral with this roller coaster ride and needed God’s sustaining strength. He’s always so faithful, isn’t He? He gave me strength and quite suddenly her cradle cap subsided. In excitement, I blogged about it.  Her hair started to grow and I continued to limit my diet, nurse her and start adding in some solid food.

While her scalp didn’t flare up, her list of foods that she needed to avoid continued to grow.  We reached a point where she was off: DAIRY, GLUTEN, RICE, OATMEAL, SOY, CORN, POTATOES, EGGS, PEANUTS, CHOCOLATE, and STRAWBERRIES.  Friends would offer to cook around her allergies when we would visit.  I would simply shake my head and not have them even bother.  It was easier to just bring food with me.  Most of the time, I was thankful that she wasn’t reacting as bad as before as long as we kept the delicate balance of keeping her away from offending foods.  But every once in a while, I’d crash emotionally.

Last summer arrived and one day in mid-June my mom came to me and announced that she was praying for Greta.  I thanked her.  We’ve all been praying for a while and I appreciated the support.  When I saw her the next week, she reminded me that she was praying for Greta.  She told me that she had faith that God was going to heal her.  She had faith for complete healing of all the allergies, except dairy.  Having just tested her the month before and hearing confirmation that she was indeed still reacting to all those foods I must admit that I wasn’t very hopeful.

Two or three weeks later, mom came to me yet again to let me know that she was praying for Greta.  I gave a polite nod.  But I wasn’t prepared for what came next.  She looked me in the eye and said, “How am I going to know when He heals her?  Will you go get her tested again?”   How could I say no…

So I took the feeble step of faith and had her re-tested.  After running the tests, the doctor gave me a confused look as he told me that she was free from all of her food intolerance/allergies except for dairy.  My mouth dropped.  I left his office that day, praising God and marveling at his goodness.

We started with adding all of those foods back in and sure enough, she was fine.   And we are full of gratitude, knowing the incredible work that God did in her body.  I’m reminded anew to keep piling up those stones and recounting God’s faithfulness in our lives – both in the big things and in the little things.  Little things, after all, add up to big things.


Allergies – an update!

Oh it seems like yesterday that I was sneaking peak after peak of that positive pregnancy test.  Does anyone else keep ahold of that positive for a while?  I hid mine in the pantry and when I wanted to smile like a crazy woman, I’d tip toe in and check it just one more time!  That first trimester was a doozy to be sure.  There were were several times when I was sure we had lost her.  I learned to give my worry to God and embrace gratitude as spiritual warfare.

And then she was here.  We were so ecstatic to hold her the day she arrived.  While we were smitten beyond belief, we didn’t understand why she cried ALL.THE.TIME.

My sister has experience with food allergies and recommended that I remove dairy from my diet.  I hesitated.  I loved my icecream.  Isn’t life with a newborn challenging enough without having to reinvent how to eat?  Thankfully, God sent two friends to challenge me with the same thing and point out that my poor daughter was in pain.  Suddenly, icecream didn’t seem to matter.  Fierce mother-love overrode my selfish clinging to appetite.

After a few days of going off dairy, Greta didn’t squirm and cry nearly as much.  Since the crying still persisted more than the norm, I did a full elimination diet.  It was intense, but I identified that she was reacting to dairy, eggs, peanuts, gluten, spices (bye bye Mexican food) and chocolate.  It was rough, but I was committed to doing what was best for her.  And I was eating as I’d always dreamed of eating – copious amounts of vegetables for breakfast, lunch and dinner! {I just love how God always provides a gift glimmering through any challenge.}

We caught a glimpse of how severe it was when I mistakenly ate the wrong ‘mashed potatoes’ the day after Christmas that caused her to have bloody stools.

But even with all of these food restrictions, she still struggled and we finally took her in to see a chiropractor when she was four months old.  Turns out the bones on her skull were overlapping and pinching the nerve going down to her gut.  After the first adjustment, I was able to add stuff back to my diet.  {I’m now a former skeptic-turned believer in the benefits of chiropractic care.}

But all was not right just yet and we continued to sort out what was causing it.

I came to a breaking point in August when she had green diarrhea for nearly three weeks after eating a few bites of sweet potato.   She had cradle cap so severe that her hair wasn’t growing up top.  No matter what I did, the inflammation continued.

{Isn’t this just so sad.  I took this picture in mid-September.}

In September, as she approached her first birthday, still not able to handle much in the way of solid food, we started to pray hard.  Not that I hadn’t been praying before, but I think I assumed she would just grow out of it.  As her birthday was coming up, the seriousness of the situation started to hit.  As I interceded for our daughter, God built my faith.  We prayed and prayed and then one day noticed that the inflammation on her head was gone.  Since then her hair has started to grow and two weeks ago, I received wonderful news that she can tolerate ME having butter, eggs (in baked goods only), peanuts and oatmeal.  Woot.  I’m now only having to avoid milk, cheese and scrambled eggs and she is adding new veggies to her plate each week {but currently still on a grain-free diet}.  Her sensitivities are subsiding!

She is happy and we have a tight bond forged through this last year of this trial.  Isn’t God good?

I have a new found respect and understanding for parents who have children suffering from food allergies and I’m now proud that I can cook around just about any allergy! Do any of you or your children suffer from food sensitivities/allergies?  How did you adjust?

The Birthday Girl!

My precious baby girl turned 1 a few days ago! Oh how the year sped by.  It certainly was not an easy year, but she is such a delight.

She appears to be our second introvert and is very shy.  It has only been in recent weeks when she would willingly go to more people.  Keeping with tradition (here, and here), I made our petite little princess a birthday crown.  Greta’s name means ‘pearl’ and so it was only fitting that I incorporate some of those into her crown.  Those of you astute observers probably noticed the return of the gray felt that I used for the boys birthday shark fins…  I overestimated how much I needed and so Greta’s crown took shape from some of the surplus.  I’m quite pleased with the result and hope that she soon appreciates the work of art instead of focusing primarily on the forces of gravity! 🙂

Felt Birthday crown -

Food allergies are something new to me.  She is sensitive to so much…

I’ve had to refrain from dairy, eggs, oatmeal, Dijon mustard and peanuts.  Her poor system is so sensitive that when she clamored for a few bites of sweet potato two months ago, she ended up with nearly three weeks of green diarrhea.  I’ve heard that their gut matures with the arrival of teeth and I’m hoping that is true as she should get her first in the next couple of weeks.

While family still gathered to celebrate, she didn’t get to partake of much although I did sneak her a few bites of watermelon!  She loves her family and the beautiful outdoors, so she enjoyed herself despite her lack of table food.

This beautiful daughter of ours has reminded us of the need to pray and keep praying.  I’ve learned compassion as I have a new perspective towards families with food allergies and she has helped me gain the ability and confidence to cook around food allergies/intolerance’s that has come in handy as I’ve had opportunity to entertain families experiencing challenges even greater than these.

Happy Birthday sweet Greta.  I look forward to the years to come!

Related Post:
Greta: A Birth Story

Peekaboo and Bilateral Integration…

About a month ago our little princess took adorable to a whole new level when she discovered how to initiate games of peekaboo with us.  At any given moment, she has a very ready audience!  We are all mesmerized with the ginormous changes babies go through.  I know all to well how quickly these tiny phases come and go.

It never ceases to delight and amaze me, especially as a biology junkie. I know how much this indicates wiring going on in the brain.  She is actively learning and all of her increased mobility is not only an indication of brain growth, but also the means for wiring her brain to grow and learn more!  I think it is so cool that as our brain grows and matures, we are capable of more intricate movement.  And that at the same time, this movement is further wiring the brain to work more efficiently.  I stand in complete awe at God’s creative power as I think about how He’s at work not just with what we can see, but the unseen.

We’ve also done things a little differently with this fourth baby of ours.   I’ve embraced more fully the concept of baby initiated movement.   {I’m not sure if there’s an official name for it out there, but this is what I’m calling it.}  I knew that items like jumparoos and exercausers are bad for their spinal development, but didn’t realize that even holding baby in a standing position in our laps could have a similar effect.  When I took Greta in to see a chiropractor at 4 months that was the first thing he talked to me about.  I was completely shocked.  But when he went into explaining why, he got me at the term – bilateral integration.  This mama KNOWS all about bilateral integration.  It’s as if he knew that I’d be speaking on that very topic in a few short months.

Bilateral integration is the ability of the left and right hemisphere’s of the brain to communicate and work together for smooth, coordinated movement and thought processing.  Chiropractors, Occupational and Physical Therapists all are noticing a connecting trend between early walkers or those that skip the crawling stage with an increase of integration issues.  Eeek.  Bilateral integration is so critical for success in reading, writing, comprehension and creativity.  Activities like crawling, skipping, brachiating on the monkey bars, etc all serve to help increase those important neural connections between the left and right hemisphere of the brain.

So it got me pondering and having to work hard to break myself of the habit of standing Greta up in my lap.  It is hard to stop doing what has become second nature. And then I continued down that road and skipped trying to ‘help’ her sit up as I had done with my first two kids.  Trey crawled so early, it was impossible to get him to sit…

If you have been around here a while, you know well that I’m a big advocate of having this kind of approach in the area of cognitive development in the early years.  I advocate free play and hands-on, interactive learning in the early years instead of trying to rush toddlers and preschoolers into academic pursuits that their brains simply aren’t wired for yet…  But honestly, it hadn’t occurred to me to have the same approach in motor development.  With my two older boys I trained them to sit.  I was the parent that held their hands and walked lap after lap around the house ‘helping’ them learn how to walk.  Because by this point that is what they wanted to do, even if they didn’t have the motor strength and coordination to do it quite yet.  This time around, I’m trying to retrain myself and let Greta move and try new things completely on her own by giving her ample time on the ground.  I must say it is so exciting to watch her hit those milestones all on her own!

I found Dr. Emmi Pikler’s thoughts on child-initiated movement to be thought provoking,

“The learning process will play a major role in the whole later life of the human being. Through this kind of development, the infant learns his ability to do something independently, through patient and persistent effort. While learning during motor development to turn on his belly, to roll, to creep, sit, stand, and walk, he is not only learning those movements, but also *how to learn*. He learns to do something on his own, to be interested, to try out, to experiment. He learns to overcome difficulties. He comes to know the joy and satisfaction that is derived from his success, the result of his patience and persistence.”

Yet again, we see the interplay between movement and learning – even in the tiniest members of our family!

This is just one of the many things we’ve been doing differently this time around.  Did any of you find that you tweaked things as you went along and learned new things?
Related articles that I found interesting and thought provoking on this topic:

Has it really been that long?

Has it really been 6 months?  It never ceases to amaze me how new family members slip in and effortlessly create a new normal.  Life without them cannot be fathomed.
For all the challenges we had with her food sensitivities and colic, we wouldn’t have traded the last 6 months with our precious little girl for anything.  She never ceases to delight us with her constant jabbering, curiosity and obvious love for each of us.
Yesterday, we remembered back to her grand entrance and the time we spent learning about her growth inside of me.  And the boys are busily planning her future -illustrating what her life will be like for the next several years with their colored pencils.  We look forward to continuing to discover how she will contribute to the shaping of our family! 

anticipating adventures…

Adventure is here.  My baby sister is just weeks away from meeting her first baby face-to-face.  And so we celebrate.  We celebrate this new little life.  We celebrate the beginning of motherhood.  We celebrate the growing of a family.
Our nursery theme when we were babies centered around Winnie the Pooh.  My sister and her husband are jumping off from there and going with a 100 Acre Woods kind of nursery theme.  Her use of the cross-stitches that my mom lovingly stitched over 30 years ago was my inspiration for her baby shower.

Food from the far reaches of the 100 Acre Wood: north {fruit} poles from Pooh’s ‘Expotition’, veggies from Rabbit’s garden, kanga pouch-pockets, owl eggs, honey buns and Piglet’s ‘haycorns’.

Baby showers are a special time to celebrate and anticipate.  It is also a fun opportunity to catch up with old friends.  Ev was surrounded with women – some she grew up with, others watched her grow up.  They brought their babies and everyone swapped stories and life updates.  And with joy we watch as she enters into this new phase in life.

Greta: A Birth Story

I have a daughter! 

It is a beautiful thing to give birth to your best friend

The funny thing about giving birth is how your perception of it changes over time.  Greta’s birth gets more and more beautiful, the further out I get from it.  To be honest, beautiful would have been the last word used to describe it in the hours and even couple of days afterwards.  It is a delight now to look at the pictures and remember back.

If you enjoy reading birth stories, I invite you to read on… 

Tuesday, September 27th found me battling a stomach bug.  As usual, I was also having periodic bouts of contractions.  The combination made me wonder if I was in labor.  When my midwife came for my appointment that day (hurray for home visits), she confirmed that I was most likely just sick and not in labor.  I had little appetite and really wanted to be over this bug, so I just nibbled on bits of toast and a banana throughout the day.

Thankfully, I decided to get to bed early and was asleep by 9pm.  I awoke at 2am with my first contraction.  I get lots of contractions.  In fact, I started feeling them at 13 weeks and in that last month they would periodically wake me up at night.  So I didn’t dwell too much on that contraction and drifted off to sleep only to be awoken 25 minutes later with another even stronger one.  At this point, my obsession with the “am I going into labor” game began in earnest.  When another strong one occurred 17 minutes later, I decided that it was probably the real thing.   I quickly determined that laying down in bed is NOT my preferred laboring position, so I ambled downstairs for a piece of toast and to try and figure out when to call my midwife, mom and sisters.  Since Treyton’s labor had been less than an hour long, timing was crucial.  No one wanted to miss the birth and the idea of an unassisted birth is not on our ‘want to try someday’ list.   The contractions started coming every 15 minutes so I called everyone by 3:30am. 

Over the next 2.5 hours contractions were manageable, but I definitely focused on relaxing through them.  My sister arrived with her camera in hand to chronicle the birth.  Turns out everyone had ample time to arrive this time around…

I was chatty and happy between contractions and calmly focused during them at this point.

Sue arrived and chatted with me for a bit to get a feel for how things were progressing.  I’m always amazed how in tune she was with me.  She checked fetal heart tones and then got everything set up for the birth before quietly slipping downstairs to rest and read until things picked up…

I had very vivid memories of the painful trek up the stairs when I was in labor with Treyton.  Transition and trying to crawl up stairs leaves quite a memorable impression, let me tell ya.  But when contractions started to space back out to 15-20 minutes apart again while I was upstairs and not walking around, everyone convinced me to go for a walk.  I’m an outdoors kind of girl and I’m so thankful that I followed that advice, especially since it brought the contractions down to every 3-5 minutes…

Around 6am the boys woke up, giddy with excitement.  I talked with them when I wasn’t busy focusing on a contraction.  They lounged around, but I was pacing.  It was agonizing to be ‘trapped’ sitting down during a contraction.  I wanted to be up, free.  I was pretty depressed that things weren’t progressing quicker since we had just passed the 4 hour mark.  Was it ever going to end???

Finally, they intensify and I knew I was far enough along to get in the water.  The water is often called the midwives epidural and I was eager for something to take the edge off.  But if you get in too early, it can actually drag labor out so I had held out for a while…

At this point, I lost track of time.  I was relatively happy between contractions, but it took every bit of focus to stay relaxed when I felt a contraction starting to build.  With Treyton, I immediately went into the all fours position and weathered transition and pushing in that position.  I didn’t want anyone touching me and made sure they knew it…  This time it was different.  I wanted Rich there.  I NEEDED Rich there for me.  Going on my knees was agonizing and I could feel shooting pain going down my legs.  It was weird to have to figure out this whole ‘labor thing’ all over again.

It felt like I was in the pool forever, making no progress.  But in fact, it had been only an hour… It was now 7am.  In despair, I figured I should go to the bathroom before transition hits.  Little did I know that during the last contraction or two, my moaning had changed and the midwives were starting to mobilize.  Thinking I had another 7 minutes or so to get to the bathroom and back, I headed in.  Time between contractions apparently isn’t the only indicator of where you are at in labor because transition hits in full force just moments later.

The thought of returning to the birth pool seemed abhorrent to me.  In my mind, I kept telling myself that I loved the water, but every time I looked that way, I would shudder.  I don’t want to be trapped.  I wanted to be free to move.  But I stayed fixed at the edge of the bathroom.

I hate transition.  I was getting pretty vocal and I felt wildly out of control.  Rich was amazing – my rock.  With only a bit of a breather between contractions, I made sure he stayed close.  In my head, I was having all kinds of crazy conversations with myself.  I’d convinced myself that this wasn’t transition and I was going to be in agony forever.  When my midwife offered to check me, I quickly turned her down.  I couldn’t bear the thought of bad news.  As another wave hit, I grabbed for Rich, desperately searching for a place to bury my head that will shield his poor ears.  hahaha.  I wish I were one of those women who labored peacefully, quietly.  But when I’m in transition it is not peaceful and it is not quiet.  Mercifully, this phase is always very short.

I love this man.

I felt awful.  I pitifully moaned, “Why Eve?  Why did you eat the fruit?”  {Apparently this made Rich snicker.  I was oblivious.} While I heard myself announcing that I couldn’t do this anymore, a voice inside of me assured me that it must be almost over if I’m saying that…  It’s been about 10 minutes since I had exited the pool and transition hit.

Sure enough, it was time to push.  Suddenly the water looked inviting again.  I pushed and pushed and pushed.  It seemed more difficult this time around to get her out.  [In hindsight, we think she may have been in a less than optimal position.]  The midwives were so soothing and calmly encouraged me.  I love my midwives.

And then she’s out.   While it felt like it was taking F.O.R.E.V.E.R, it only took 11 minutes of pushing.  It was 8:21, nearly 6.5 hours after the first contraction.

Immediately afterwards, I felt weak, very weak.  It was so strange because after Treyton came out, I instantly felt better.  Euphoria set in and after cuddling with my baby for a while, I hopped out of the pool and took a shower before settling into bed.  This time around, I was limp.  But she was perfect and in my arms.

I didn’t realize until later that I was so weak because I hadn’t eaten the day before.  Everyone stepped up to help me into bed and placed her in my arms.  I stared in amazement at my newest little treasure.  What will her personality be like?  I prayed that we will become best friends as I have with my own mother.  I thanked God for this beautiful gift.  {But I was still mad at Eve.}


Moments later, my boys and their cousins traipsed upstairs to meet Greta.


I soaked up the delighted and curious expressions on three little faces.

 And we inspected our little girl.

Now that I’ve had almost 4 weeks to look back, I see that expectations really affected how I initially felt about the birth – both during and immediately afterwards.  While I know that every birth is different, I still somehow expected it to be like Treyton’s – fast, furious and then over in the blink of an eye.  I realize now that a 6.5 hour labor is still considered short and that everything else with the birth was pretty textbook perfect.  While I wish I had prepared myself a little better, I’m also realizing the miraculous and beautiful part of birth.  I’m thankful that I was able to have her at home because that is where I feel most comfortable. {I never imagined myself the ‘crazy’ homebirth type, but it’s turned out to be a great fit for me.} Options in childbirth are wonderful.  I am thankful that my mother was able to be with me as I gave birth to my first daughter. {She missed being there for Treyton’s birth because she paused to make herself a cup of coffee and with my dad’s cancer, I was afraid she wouldn’t be here for Greta too…}  Both of my sisters were there.  I’m so thankful that Evie was able to watch the kids and then come up with them to see Greta so fresh out!   And in keeping with tradition, family collected that evening for a ‘birth’-day party, complete with cake – a perfect cap to a busy, busy day!

While I certainly wish there was a pain-free, drug and intervention free way to give birth, she is SO INCREDIBLY worth it!

It is pain with a prize at the end… And our family has been forever altered.

It could have been ugly…

Whew. Treyton woke up early from his nap today. I was trying to let him stay up there in hopes that he would go back to sleep, but he kept calling me. m(low gutteral sound)ommmmmmmmmmm. m(low gutteral sound)ommmmmmmmmmmmm. So I gave up on him going back to sleep and went to get him.

I walk in to the nursery to discover that he is naked from the waist down and the room reeks. In his hand is a neatly folded diaper that he is holding out for me. I’m soooooooooooo thankful that he didn’t play in it, do an art project or sit down. His little hiney was covered in poop, but there was none on the sheets.

A miracle.

I’ll thank God for that and will dress him in onesies, super glued together from now on! 😉

…and we all lived happily ever after.

Maybe this is a sign that he’ll potty train earlier than the other two!
Hopeful. So hopeful.


I just love little boys in cute diapers… 
And this time of year, little boys love being in only diapers.
Just savoring beautiful moments that come with each tiny season in life!

Almost 2 years of part-time cloth diapering and still going strong.  Although some days I don’t care for the extra work, I’ve become accustomed to the savings.  That and I feel like I can just let him run around in only a diaper without feeling trashy! 😉