Peyton's Story

Going Into Labor:

I need to start out by saying everybody’s labor is different. Labor is not in your power to control. From the minute I got pregnant I began to imagine what labor and giving birth would be like. I imagined my water would break, we would go to the hospital, I would be in pain for a few hours, but since I prepared myself mentally for it I wouldn't need any drugs because I'm a super mom and bada-bing bada-bang, I would pull my beautiful baby girl onto my chest and stare lovingly into her sweet eyes and say “happy birthday beautiful, I've waited so long to meet you and I already love you so much” while my Nick cut the cord. I have never been so wrong in my life.

Here’s how it actually went:

4 Days before giving birth (Tuesday):

I went to my regularly scheduled OB visit to have the doctor check on the baby. To my excitement, after he got done monitoring the baby he said, “Okay, so it looks like you are four days away from your due date, so would you like to go ahead and schedule an induction date?” What I thought was, would I like to schedule an induction date?! Of course! Can we schedule it for today? But what I said was, “Yeah, that’d be cool.” So Nick and I decided that we would schedule the induction for Friday morning since that was my actual due date, and that way he wouldn't miss too much work. So we left knowing that by that weekend we would finally be getting to meet our little Peanut.

1 Day before giving birth (Thursday):

I go into my OBs office to start the induction process. They decide to start me on a balloon catheter to get my cervix to start dilating before the start me on Pitocin. The device they put inside me basically looks like two water balloons attached to each other. They insert the catheter inside me (un-inflated) and the balloons are placed on both sides of my cervix to get it to dilate and efface. Everybody I talked to, including both my OB and other women who have had it before, told me I shouldn't feel a thing after they put it in. It was essentially like having a tampon in. The only part of it I would feel were the two tubes hanging out that they taped to my leg. But lucky me, the pressure from putting it in sent me into labor. I started getting contractions at 3 pm. They weren't that bad so we continued about our day. We even went out to dinner with my second mom/uncle (it's a long story) because it was her birthday. As we’re all leaving dinner about 7 pm, I begin to get extremely uncomfortable. So after we got home, I took a shower and tried to relax. About 8 pm, I called my OB and told him how uncomfortable I was. He told me to head to the hospital and that he would call ahead and have my room ready for me. All I could think was, this is it. I’m about to finally meet my little girl. We get to the hospital, and the nurse tells me that yes, I am in real labor, but for tonight they were going to give me a mild pain reliever and a sedative so I could get a little sleep and my body would be prepared for a big day. I slept for about 4 hours.

Friday, October 5^th. D(elivery) Day.

6 am    My OB comes into my room and says, “Congratulations! Today is the day!” I remember feeling so happy, because the pain wasn't too bad right then. That’s when they started me on Pitocin to speed up the process. 

8 am    One of the nurses comes in to take out the catheter and check my dilatation. I’m 100% effaced and 4.5 centimeters!

10 am  My OB comes in to break my water. That is the strangest feeling in the world. It feels like you are gushing pee. And it’s not just once. It’s for the next 45 minutes with every contraction. My mom had told me that when she was having both me and my brothers that she had all of us within 4 hours of them breaking her water. So I was super excited. It could be any time now! They let me bounce on the exercise ball, which believe it or not actually relieves a lot of the pain in the beginning stages. Everybody is taking bets on what time baby is going to get here.

11 am  I’m getting checked for dilation, nurses keep coming in and out. Visitors file in and out.

1 pm    My OB comes in and says his shift is over, but he’s going to stick around for a little while longer to try and be here when I deliver.

2 pm    The pain gets worse. I want an epidural, and I want it NOW.

3:30 pm The anesthesiologist, or as I liked to call him, the god with the happy juice, finally arrives. Most people say they were scared while they were getting the epidural and that it hurts really bad, but I honestly the only thing I remember is being scared of falling off the bed while they were doing it.

4 pm    I’m at 6 cm! And I feel no pain so life is good.

5 pm    My OB apologizes greatly, but says he by law he cannot spend any more time in the hospital so he has to leave. So he introduces me to my new doctor, who I've never meet before, Dr. Curtis. She is amazing.

6 pm    Hello 8 centimeters! It’s almost time!

7 pm    9 centimeters!

7:30 pm “GO GET THE DOCTOR I HAVE TO PUSH.” The doctor comes in, checks me, and says the words a woman in labor never wants to hear, “I’m sorry, you’re still only at 9 centimeters, you can’t push yet.”

8 pm    It’s time to push. In the room with me I have Nick, my mom, his mom, my guardian, and her girlfriend (she kind of got stuck in the room because they wouldn't let anybody leave after I started pushing), Dr. Curtis, and one nurse.

          I’m not going to include times from now on because I honestly don’t remember the time span of it happening. The doctor hooked me up to a heart monitor machine because my heart rate was too fast for her liking. Then they gave me an oxygen mask because my oxygen levels were dropping. Dr. Curtis then said something to the nurse, and she left and came back with two more nurses. 
          The baby starts to crown. They hooked a heart rate machine up to the baby by inserting a little needle under the layer of skin on her head. Slowly more and more nurses start to file in. The doctor begins to look worried. She yells at the nurses for talking to loud. Everybody starts to stream words of encouragement to me. “You’re doing so good!” “She’s almost here!” But I can tell by the way the doctor is looking and the nervousness of the nurses that something isn't quite right. 
          Everything you read about labor tells you that with your first baby your normally push for 30-45 minutes, and here I was with two straight hours of pushing under my belt already. My baby girl was stuck. After another half hour passes, my husband whispers in my ear, “you can do this”. I take one last deep breath, and with one last final push she is out. 
          At 10:21 pm, 7 lbs, and 21 inches my baby is finally here. I am in so much pain. I just felt myself rip open. But what makes it even worse is that I don’t get to pull my baby straight onto my chest like I had imagined almost every day since I found out I was pregnant. 
          She didn't cry. 
          Didn't make any sound at all.
          She was limp. 
          What felt like hours stretching by, I am later told by mom was only a span of about 2 minutes. The nurses cut the umbilical cord and take her to the corner of the room. The doctor presses on my stomach to get the after birth out and begins to stitch me up. But all I’m focused on is why is she not crying. Babies cry when they came out. It’s what they do. Finally, I hear her. It’s not a cry, but more of a squeak. But I’ll take it. 
          They wrap her up, bring her next to my bed "here's your baby girl. we have to take her to the NICU (Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit) now." 
          I’m lying in the bed as the doctor is finishing stitching me up (I think at the final count I had 7 or 8 stitches) and trying to comfort me. Nick and his brother go down to the NICU to check on her. But I can’t go. They tell me I have to pee before I’m allowed to leave the room. Something to do with the epidural and making sure my systems work okay. So while everyone is taking turns going to see my baby, I have to wait. And I cried. I cried so hard. My mom tried comforting me and telling me everything was going to be okay, but it didn't help. 
          I wanted my baby. I wanted more than pictures on a phone of my baby. The baby I had grown inside of me for 40 long weeks. The baby I had felt moving and kicking. The baby that would kick her daddy's hand when he would lay it on my stomach. The baby that bruised my ribs from kicking them so hard all the time. I wanted to hold her, and love her, and kiss her, and tell her she was beautiful.
          Finally I lie and tell the nurse I have to pee, so she takes me to the bathroom in my room, shows how to clean myself off with the squirt bottle (there is so much blood) and leaves. I fake peeing, and come out where they have a wheel chair ready for me to use to go see my daughter. Just then Nick comes in the room and says they’re bring her to me. That she is okay. I was finally going to meet my baby girl.

          After giving us some alone time with her, my mom, his mom and a nurse come into the room. The nurse shows us how to give her a bath, and then sits down and explains what happened. Baby girl had gotten stuck in my birth canal behind my pelvic bone. A baby’s heart rate is normally about 140-160, and decreases during pushing. Her heart rate had shot up to 210 while I was pushing, and was not going back down. They got her heart rate to stabilize in the NICU, and now she was doing just fine.

            At about 3 am, and after much argument, my husband finally convinces me to let them take my princess back to the nursery so I could get some sleep. They brought her back to me at 6 am to nurse, and we got to keep her with us after that.  
          At 3 pm they had to take her to do some test. While she was in the NICU, they transferred us to the “bonding” room. (Which I’m assuming got its name because of the fact that it was less than a quarter of the size of the labor and delivery room, and barely fit the hospital bed, two chairs and the baby’s bassinet in it.) Finally, a nurse came in, but without the baby. She told us that her bilirubin scores were too high, and we could visit her all we wanted, but she was going to have to stay in the NICU indefinitely.

          The next four days were full of so much love, frustration and so many tears. We couldn't take her home. She had to spend a lot of time under this lamp that was suppose to get her billirubin scores down. We got our hopes up so many times that we would be able to leave. We spent a total of 5 days in the hospital before we got to bring her home. I was discharged after day 3, but they let us stay in the hospital room. We were just told if they ended up needing the room we would have to leave.

          But now she is a perfectly healthy little princess with a big attitude. So despite having a rough entrance in the world, she's growing right on schedule! 

Family Pictures by: Kimberly Naugle Photography

You know you're a parent when...

You know you're a parent when...

1. Having chewed up gold fish spat into you mouth doesn't disgust you quite as much as it should.
2. The scariest thing you can hear as a parent is a crash, followed by a little voice saying "uh oh..."
3. You have the best intentions to clean or do something productive during nap time. But Netflix or napping yourself usually wins.
4. You have no need for wallpaper because you have a 2 ft artist who designs your walls for free!
5. You've come to the acceptance that if you want to enjoy that bowl of ice cream by yourself, you're going to have to do it in the bathroom. With the lights off. Not making a sound.
6. The laws of the universe no longer apply to your child. They can sleep through a marching band practicing right outside your window. But if somebody sneezes two houses down, they're up.
7. Baths only keep them clean for 30 minutes.
8. You go to enjoy a nice warm bubble bath, and instinctively throw in bath toys.
9. You could find a three course meal in the cracks of the couch because you child is apparently preparing to hibernate.
10. You freak out because your child wakes up with blood matted in their hair. Oh wait, that's just fig newton filling.
11. What you think really doesn't matter. If you say no, grandma and grandpa are just going to give it to them anyways.
12. A task like unloading the dishwasher, which takes a normal person 15 minutes, takes you three hours because you have to stop every 2 minutes because you child has suddenly decided that they need to practice their rock climbing skills. On the kitchen table. And into the batch of cupcakes.
13. You now believe hourly baths are necessary.
14. Smelling another beings butt is not just for dogs.
15. You realize why the other people in the restaurant are looking at you like you're crazy. It's because you're talking about poop. In public. Again. (Although in the interest of full disclosure, the "poop" discussion at nightly dinners started waaaaaay before Peyton in my family...)
16. Having a "clean house" is really just a fond memory.
17. The phrase "our house doesn't normally look like this!" Is a complete and utter lie. It always looks like this. We have children. They don't particularly like things being "clean".
18. All your fantasies are now about sleeping.
19. You are now a pro at doing everything one-handed.
20. You no longer sing Top 40 Hits. Instead, "I was a girl in the village doin' alright, then I became a princess overnight..." plays in your head.
21. You can name all the pups from Paw Patrol before you can name celebrities in a movie. (Ryder, Marshall, Rubble, Skye, Rocky and Zuma just in case you were wondering ;))
22. Phrases like "don't hit the dogs with drumsticks!" and "get that lightsaber out of the toilet!" (thanks Hannah for this one!) are suddenly completely rational statements.
23. You do more daily multi-tasking than all the CEO's of every major company combined.
24. You're still watching Nick Jr or Disney Channel even though the baby's been asleep for 30 minutes.
25. The words "personal space" no longer have any meaning to you.
26. You've seriously forgotten what it's like to eat a meal while it was still hot.
27. You've convinced yourself that pizza has all the food groups so it has to be at least somewhat healthy for your kid to eat.
28. Chicken nuggets and hot dogs now are their own food groups.
29. When somebody offers to baby sit your children you seriously consider using the baby-less time to nap rather than go on an actual date. Because if you just take a nap you don't have to shave your legs. Or wear pants.
30. But most importantly, you know when you're a parent when the sound of your child hurt breaks your heart into a thousand pieces.
31. When what you want in life suddenly because less important than what you want for your child.
32. When your needs take second place.
33. When the most beautiful noise you've ever heard is your child's laugh.
34. When you're okay with trading dolled up nights on the town for nights cuddled up in your pj's with a bowl of popcorn, watching the same Disney movie for the third time this week.
35. When you're at the end of your rope, and you don't know how you can possibly spend another day because your energy is spent. So you're down on your knees praying for a miracle, only to look over at your beautiful sleeping child and realize you already have one.

"Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord."

51%-49%

If you've ever been around Nick or I when any sort of decision has to be made, chances are you've with heard me say, "51-49! You have to choose!" or you've heard Nick say, "51-49, I say you have to choose!" It's really a matter of who can spit it out faster. Our little "joke" actually has to do with a very serious part of our marriage. What I'm about to say is not a very popular opinion in today's society. A lot of people, women in particular, do not agree with what I'm about to say.

Marriage should not be equal.

I wholeheartedly agree with this statement. Marriage is not made to be 50-50. I don't care if it is a gay or straight marriage. If you marriage is "equal" you are not going to be able to make any important decisions. Say your husband gets a new job opportunity, but for it you and your kids are going to have across the country away from all your family and friends to somewhere where you know absolutely nobody. He wants to go. You don't. If your marriage is 50-50, how do you decide?

Wedding Pictures by: Kimberly Naugle Photography

Ultimately, Nick is the decision maker in our home. If he says no, the answer is no. That is not to say that he controls me in any way shape or form. He does not have the right to tell me how to cut my hair, how to dress, what color to do my eye shadow, etc. He does not get to control all my movements during the day.

So what does he control? He has the final say in how we spend/save/invest our money. Right now I am fortunate enough to be a stay-at-home mom while he is out working his butt off to support us. He has the final say in how we parent our daughter and future children. Granted, I make most of the day-to-day decisions seeing as I am the one home with her, but he makes the final decisions about how we discipline her. And once she gets older and ready for go to school, he will have the final say in what activities she can/cannot do. 

Most importantly, he is the head of our family's spiritual welfare. He is the one who keeps us on track and walking the right path with God. (We are currently looking for a new church family if anyone would like to give us suggestions!).

Now majority of the time Nick does let me make most of the decisions. Like what we're going to have for dinner. What baby is going to wear. What movie we're going to see. All the little stuff. But all the major important stuff ultimately comes down to his decision. If daddy says no, it's not happening. And sometimes it's difficult and frustrating, but I have to trust that he's making the right decision for our family. I may not be able to see his reasoning in the moment, but I know eventually I will.

If you can't trust the man you're with to make the hard decisions that have to be made, you don't need to be with him. 

"You guys are like so perfect!"

"You guys are like so perfect!"

Wedding pictures by: Kimberly Naugle Photography

 

I have been told countless times that Nick and I are perfect together. I don't know why, but it has always rubbed me wrong when people use that word: perfect. It's like they're setting a standard for our relationship that it is impossible for us to live up to. But then I got to thinking, why do they think we're so perfect. The answer is pretty simple. 

1. We have never been in a "fight".

We have argued, yes. We have been in disagreements, yes. And we have sometimes hurt each others feelings, yes. But we have never been in a fight. We have never called each other names. We have never, not even once, yelled at each other. When we disagree, because let's be honest, every couple does now and again, we take a few minutes apart. We go into separate rooms and we calm down. I personally play a game on my phone to distract myself. As far as to what he does, I honestly couldn't tell you. But once we're both calm we talk. We work through it together. 

He is an extremely kind and patient man. I, on the other hand, have a short temper sometimes. And more often than not I have a fast tongue that speaks before my mind can tell it not to. There have been times when we've been in a disagreement and I have said something that I shouldn't have. Something that if the roles were reversed, and he would have said it to me I probably would have been infuriated and yelled back. But he never once has. And he has super thick skin too. So he knows how to handle my fast tongue.

There has only been one time in our entire relationship I can recall saying something that actually hurt his feelings. And the thing is I didn't even mean to. But the instant hurt I saw in his eyes instantly broke my heart. Which brings me two number two...

Engagment pictures by: Rye Photography

2. When you're wrong, apologize.

I am very prideful. "I'm sorry" are some of the hardest words for me to say. But when I'm wrong, I admit it. And so does he when he's wrong. It's amazing how saying "I'm sorry" when you're wrong instead of holding on to your pride can turn what would have otherwise been a blowout, into a small argument filled with plenty of makeup.........cuddles ;).

Maternity Pictures by: Kimberly Naugle Photography

3. Arguments are private. Not for Facebook. 

Have you ever seen Nick are I post anything bad about he other on Facebook? No. Why? Because are a private matter and not for you Aunt Sue, second cousin twice removed and mama to read. The only person I have ever said a bad word about Nick to is my best friend. If you have problems, that's okay. But not everybody needs to know about them. If you need to blow off stem to one friend, that's one thing. But if you find yourself bad mouthing your significant other, maybe you should be rethinking your relationship.

Plus, nobody else really cares about your problems. Have you ever noticed that when someone is trashing their significant other, all their "friends" are like "yeah (s)he totally sucks. I don't even know why you're with them. they're so dumb and stupid" and yet when you make up their tune changes to, "omg I know you guys would make up! you guys are like totally made for each other"?

That's why you should never take public opinion about your arguments. People like drama. They will feed into you until you're convinced that the other person is the worst person in the world. If you're going to vent to somebody, make sure it's somebody you can trust. When I vent to my best friend she will let me blow off steam and say why I'm upset, but if I'm in the wrong, she makes sure I know that as well. She tried to get me to see things from his point of view.

Family Pictures by: Kimberly Naugle Photography

We are in no way a perfect couple, but we do have a pretty good relationship. I love him with all my heart. I believe, as cliche as it sounds, that we were made for each other. He knows me better than I know myself. I am so grateful I found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with at such a young age.

The lose of a child.

June 28, 2013

I peed on the stick and waited a torturous minute and a half for it to read "pregnant". I sent my husband a one worded text: "F**K". And then I cried. I was not happy. I was not excited. What I was was terrified. I already had a baby. My baby wasn't even 9 months old yet. That meant my children were going to be less than 18 months apart. How was I going to take of two children that young? How were we going to afford it?

We told our parents and they were very supportive. Heck, even they were excited. I still was not. I honestly did not want this baby. I was not ready for it.

After a few days went by I started to get a little excited myself. I loved being pregnant. Not so much the throwing up every time I ate part, but the growing a human being part. The little kicks and elbowing. The rolling from side to side. I couldn't wait to feel those little movements.

July 9, 2013

We were getting ready to spend a week in Florida visiting some family with our good friend Truman and my brother-in-law, Daniel. Nick wanted to wait until we got back to make the big announcement. I didn't. I mean, I had just found my excitement for this baby, which we call "Baby B", and I wanted to tell the world. So the night before we left out I posted this as my profile picture.

Everybody was so happy for us! We got a lot of, "wow, your family sure is growing fast!" But needless to say, we were getting used to the idea of having two babies.

The Sunshine State

We made it to Florida! And we had a blast. We saw my brothers, dad and grandparents. We spent a lot of time at the beach! We didn't do Disney this trip, but did go to Sea World and spend our anniversary at Busch Gardens.

But on the second day of vacation I started spotting. I freaked out. But every one I asked told me as long as I wasn't cramping, it was normal. And that's what everything online said too. So I wasn't as worried. I told the OBGYN and set up an appointment for as soon as I got home. I continued spotting throughout the rest of the trip, but never cramped so I thought everything was okay.

July 18, 2013

We started the 13 hour drive home at 10 pm on the 17th because it is a heck of a lot easier to take a road trip when your 9 month old is asleep rather than awake. We got home in the morning and took a little nap before taking the rental car back around 3 pm. We got home and that's when I started to not feel so great. It was my father-in-laws birthday so we were setting up for a little party. Nick noticed I wasn't feeling so great so he told me to just lay go lay down. Then I started cramping. And a little part of me knew what was happening, though I didn't want to accept it. I won't get too graphic, but I went to the bathroom and I saw the amount of blood, I knew without a doubt. So I called Nick upstairs and he held me while I cried. We knew I needed to go to the hospital, but I told him I didn't want to tell anybody until after they had sung to my father-in-law and he got his cake. So Nick went back downstairs and I stayed in bed. My mom and his mom could tell something was wrong, so he told them and my mom came upstairs with me. After they were done singing we left to go to the hospital.

We spent 6 long hours in the emergency room. I won't go into the details because honestly they're pretty boring. But when the doctor came in, this is exactly what he said: "well, it looks like you're not pregnant anymore. I'll get the nurse to get your discharge papers." And that was it. I sat there shocked. This doctor just came in and crashed my world around, and didn't even seem to care. Like it was a toy I lost, not a baby. Not my baby. My child. The way he said it so nonchalantly just ripped my heart apart. But we got our things together and we left, leaving a piece behind that we would never ever be able to get back.

We didn't tell people right away. I couldn't tell people. I couldn't talk about it. It took all my strength to get out of bed in the morning. I felt empty. I felt lost. But most of all, I felt guilty. I felt like it was my fault that we had lost this baby. Maybe if I hadn't been so upset when I found out I was pregnant I wouldn't have miscarried. Maybe if I had wanted this baby more I wouldn't have miscarried. Maybe if I hadn't told my husband out loud that I wasn't ready I wouldn't have miscarried. The amount of guilt I felt, and honestly still feel occasionally, is unimaginable. My rational side knows that it is in no way my fault, but that doesn't change the way I felt or feel. 

I went through some really dark times. It was all I could do to pull myself together in the mornings to take care of Peyton. It was like everybody was super supportive for a week or two, but then it felt like every one in the world had moved on and was expecting me to do the same. But I couldn't just move on. I had lost a huge part of myself, and the guilt was eating away at me more and more every day. Some days Peyton was the only thing getting me through the day, other days holding her made me burst into tears. I know she's the reason I was able to get through that time. 

Even now there are still days when I am on the edge of tears. I still miss Baby B more than anything. I can't help myself from thinking about him. I felt in my heart that the baby was a boy, but I will never know if that was true or not. Hundreds of questions are constantly running through my mind. Was it really a boy? What would (s)he have looked like? Would (s)he have had red or blonde hair? Would (s)he have Nick's blue eyes?

Right now I just have to trust that God has a plan for everything. I have to trust that he gave me Baby B for that short amount of time for a reason. I have deepened two friendships because of my loss of Baby B. I have been able to comfort some friends that have gone through the same loss. I have rekindled an old friendship that I thought have been lost forever, but know we talk almost every day. I hope that even though this isn't the most well written story, that it may be able to help someone else going through a loss. If nobody ever reads this, that's fine too. Just writing it out and sharing my story has helped me to heal just a little bit more. One day I'll be able to think about Baby B without wanting to cry, and this has put me one step closer. I never want to forget Baby B, I just want to be able to think about him/her without the sting of guilt slicing through my heart.

"An angel in the book of life wrote down my baby's birth. And whispered as she closed the book, too beautiful for Earth."

Piña Colada Cupcakes!

Okay so I've been kind of obsessed with learning how to bake from scratch lately. Well today I made what has to be my favorite cupcake I have ever tasted (not to toot my own horn or anything ;))

Here's what you'll need:

Cupcake:

• 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
• 1 1/2 cups self rising flour
• 1 table spoon baking powder
• 2 sticks room temperature unsalted butter (it is very important that they are room temperature!)
• 4 large eggs
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 1/2 teaspoons coconut extract
• 1 small pack of coconut cream pudding mix
• 1 1/4 cup milk
• 1 small travel bottle of coconut rum (optional)
• coconut shaving (optional)

Icing:

• 2 sticks room temperature unsalted butter (again, it is very important that they are room temperature!)
• 1 pound confectioner (powdered) sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 can crushed coconut
• 1 small box island pineapple jello mix (optional)
• pineapple slices (optional)
• maraschino cherries (optional)

if you are removing your butter straight from the refrigerator, pop it in the microwave for 10-12 seconds. you want the butter soft NOT melted.

To make the cupcakes:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line cupcake pan with cupcake holders
2. Sift both flours, baking powder, coconut cream pudding mix and coconut shavings in one bowl. 
3. In another bowl blend butter and sugar on a medium speed until pale and fluffy. Add both coconut and vanilla extract. Blend in one egg at a time.
4. Mix in 1/3 of the dry bowl, followed by 1/3 of the milk, then 1/3 flour, 1/3 milk, 1/3 flour, 1/3 milk. 
5. Add rum (and take a little swig for yourself!)
6. Fill cupcake holders to 2/3 the way full and bake in the oven for 17-20 minutes.

To make the icing:

1. Blend butter until pale and fluffy.
2. Add in confectioner sugar 1/2 cup at at time. After every 2 additions blend on high for 1-2 minutes to allow icing to get light and fluffy. (it is very important to go by 1/2 cup at a time otherwise the powder flies EVERYWHERE. Trust me. I'm talking from experience.)
3. Add vanilla extract.
4. Mix in 4-6 tablespoons of crushed pineapple, along with a little bit of the juice.
5. If you're going to add the island pineapple, do so a very little bit at a time, making sure to taste the frosting after every addition so it doesn't become to grainy.

After your cupcake have cooled, ice them! I used a gallon freezer bag with an icing tip attached to ice mine, but you don't have to get that fancy. I also added some shredded coconut to the top, a maraschino cherry (with stem because it look cuter that way ;)), and sliced the pineapple rings into sixths and placed a piece on top of each cupcake.

I hope you enjoy them as much as we have! 

Being a parent is absolutely terrifying.

Being a parent is absolutely terrifying. 

I'm not talking about one of your friends just jumped out and scared you, scared. I'm talking deep down to your core scary. Why? A human being depends on you. You are responsible for keeping it alive. More importantly, you are responsible for turning that little bundle of constant snot, poop and pee into a well mannered member of society. Terrified yet? I know I am.

Most people say by the second kid you have it down packed. I wouldn't know, since I'm still working on the first one. People assume that when you are a first time parent you know next to nothing. These assumptions are even worse when you are a "teen" parent. I was eighteen when I got pregnant and had my daughter. I walked down the aisle with my huge 7-month belly (we were engaged before I got pregnant). But even though I am an adult in the eyes of the law, most people still say me as a "child". 

When I first took the pregnancy test and the result was a little pink "+" I was honestly terrified. I had never really been around newborns before so I had no clue how I was going to take care of this new little life that was forming inside me. But I knew one thing for sure, I had made the conscious decision to have sex so I was going to own up to that and make the conscious decision to bring my baby into the world. My husband and I were (and are!) surrounded by an amazing support system. I seriously don't know how we would have survived without the help from our parents and other family and friends.

That being said, it's aggravating when people assume we don't know what we're doing. Even random strangers think it's okay to weigh in our parenting decisions. For instance, we went to the aquarium for Valentine's Day (best Valentine's date ever might I add!)  and an elderly woman came up to us out of no where and asked us how old Peyton was. We told her 16 months. To that she responded, "well then you really need to take the pacifier away from her." ............excuse me?! What I wanted to say was, "One, I don't know you. Two, I will ween my daughter off her pacifier when I want to. Three, it's none of your business in the first place." What I really said was, "we're planning on weening her soon." I don't understand why people think they have a right to tell me how to parent my child. When she was a couple months old someone told us that we shouldn't let her stand too much because we were going to make her bow legged. We shouldn't let her use a pacifier after age 1 because it would give her buck teeth. We shouldn't keep her crib in our room because it'll make her too dependent on us. The list goes on and on and on. My basic rules for who's advice I'm actually going to listen to is as follows:

1. Did you birth me?
2. Did you birth my husband?
3. Are you the one who planted the baby in my womb?

If you can't say yes to one of those questions, I'm most likely not going to take your commentary on my parenting very seriously. Also, the saying "I used to do xyz when I had kids and they turned out just fine" is most likely just going to piss me off. Don't do it. I don't care if you stopped teething pain by giving your kid a pot filled brownie and your pediatrician in the 70s told you it was okay. If I don't feel comfortable with something I'm not going to do it. Take putting baby cereal in the bottle at night. Everyone says it's safe. Even some pediatricians recommend it. I personally did not feel comfortable with it, so my daughter never once had cereal in her bottle. Did you put cereal in your kids bottle? No? Awesome! We think alike! Yes? That's awesome too! Want to know why? Because it's YOUR choice!

Being a new parent is scary enough without everybody constantly making you second guess ever decision you make about your child. You know what's great about our generation? We are the "technology generation". Meaning if I don't know something I can google it. I google so much it's not even funny. When I make a decision for my child, whether it be what kind of medicine to give her to what the healthiest food choices are for her, I'm doing it because it is what I think is best and in the end that's all that really matters.

Tea Party In Bed

Tea Party In Bed

Last night my amazing husband gave me the "night off". In other wards, him and the baby had a little sleepover downstairs so that I could get a good nights sleep! So naturally, I stayed up until 1 AM playing spider solitaire on my phone ha. So at about 10 my two favorite people came to wake me up and we went down stairs.

While daddy was in the shower we had a little "tea party" in bed with her adorable toy tea pot. I love this thing because when you press on the "tea bag" it sings with this adorable English accent. And in one of the songs it says, "let's take turns and always say please and thank you" which is a plus because we're trying to raise a well mannered lady. 

 Then I was trying to blow dry my wet hair from the shower, so of course booger had to blow dry her hair as well. My little weirdo loves to use the blow dryer! Last night after I gave the dog a bath I was blow drying her and Peyton got so made and threw a tantrum when I wouldn't let her help me use the blow dryer.

 It's pretty clear to us that she is going to be a drummer. Even while she was in my tummy if music was playing she would kick on beat. I guess being a musician just runs in her blood. Daddy and Uncle Doodlez are both drummers. Mommy is in show choir and on the flag line in marching band. Uncle Timmy plays the oboe and clarinet. Uncle Kasey plays the trombone and baritone. Papa plays the guitar and paino. Grammie plays the paino and sings. Memaw played the clarinet. And Poppop played the trombone. All that being said, even though I was in show choir and marching band, my musical talents are extremely limited. Photography, however, is something I am completely passionate about. So any chance I get to let her play with a camera (besides my big expensive camera of course) I let her in a heart beat! Hopefully she'll show a little interest in photography as well haha.

So that's been our day so far! Right nowdaddy just left for work, and we're just waiting for dinner time. Well, actually I'm just waiting. Booger is napping. Thank goodness. But after dinner her and I are going to make some cupcakes from scratch!