toddler thursday: kumquat discovers puddles + 7 tips to stop yelling at your toddler

A few weeks ago, Kumquat discovered puddles for the very first time. Watching her splash through them and the way her face lit up made the soggy shoes and wet clothes totally worth it. Also, it helped that her dad picked her up shortly after this.

As a parent, it's all too easy to become wrapped up in how incredibly impossible raising a child can be. Even on the best days, Kumquat can be deeply frustrating - she's so smart, and learning more and more every single day, but she's still very young and while she understands the word "no", she doesn't understand why she can't play in the road. Combine this with the fact that, like her mother and grandmother, she's incredibly independent and strong-willed, and this creates the sparks for some intense fireworks over who's the boss.

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thoughts on parenthood from the Build Your Blog Conference 2015

my outfit: sweater :: downeast basics // blouse :: silence and noise // skirt :: j.crew c/o uptown cheapskate // tights :: f21 // booties :: mossimo

kumquat's outfit: sweater, t-shirt, tutu :: gymboree // tights :: cherokee // silver shoe that doubles as a teething toy :: gift

Powerful speech by the brother of a young man who passed away from pediatric cancer at the gala that closed the Build Your Blog Conference 2015 last night - the Imagine Dragons lyric he quoted really hit home for me.

"The path to heaven runs through miles of clouded hell."

No, I'm not dying of cancer, nor anything quite so intense. Life has been full of changes recently, though, and as I wake from my second night without my daughter since her birth, I find myself contemplating the paradoxical form of death that accompanies parenthood: an unintended, unspoken death that rips me apart from the inside out. Every day, my baby girl gets just a little bigger, grows up just a little more, and every day, a tiny piece of me dies as I watch her become more and more independent, knowing her innocence will be ripped away all too soon.

But even as I mourn this passing, something new and beautiful moves in to take it's place: shadows of the extraordinary woman she will one day become begin to take form; pieces of her Self develop and take the shape of the broken pieces of my heart where her baby self once resided.

And she is amazing. All parents have dreams for their children; visions of who they will be and the things they will accomplish. The heartbreaking reality of parenthood is that we spend our entire lives teaching our children how to leave us. Every pain experienced by the child is felt, perhaps even more acutely, by the parent, which makes it difficult (almost impossible) not to reach in and pull them from harm's way - but we must resist this temptation, only one of many situations where our wellbeing is sacrificed for theirs.

I've seen first-hand the dangers and damages of planning someone else's life for them; whether your child or your partner, drawing maps with her name on them in all caps can only lead to resentment and failure (on your part, not hers). As parents, it is our job to teach our children HOW to make the right choices - not just what the right choice is.

I am not a perfect parent, and the Gods know I'm far from perfect person. But I know WHO I want my daughter to see me as, the values and ideals that I want her to inherit. I am her mother, and I am accountable to her as an example of how to be a good person. It's up to me to live my life the way I hope she'll learn to live hers.

Being a mom is heart wrenching and glorious, full of terror and happiness and everything in between. And I love it.

Life is hard right now; our future is uncertain and I'm terrified of what might happen next. Sometimes it's difficult to discern between what I want and what's really best for Kumquat. But all I can do is move forward in what I feel is best for my daughter - outside pressures and differing opinions be damned.

How do you gauge what's in the best interests of your child, versus what you want? How do you examine your motives to differentiate between the two? Leave your thoughts and advice in the comments.

Check back tomorrow for more from the Build Your Blog Conference 2015, including a round up of my favorite tips from the conference, and click here to learn more about the Tyler Robinson Foundation and how they and the Imagine Dragons are fighting pediatric cancer.

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ten promises I make to my daughter

Kumquat's other nickname is Cinderella, because she's always missing a shoe or a sock. In fact, she's quite proud of her ability to get them off of her feet.

my outfit -- blouse :: american eagle (similar) // skirt :: banana republic (similar) // tights :: forever 21 // booties :: mossimo @ target (similar) // necklace :: threadsence // earrings :: bebe // watch :: jc penney's

kumquat's outfit -- vest, shirt, skirt, tights, hat :: jack & janie // shoes :: target

Dear Baby Girl, the cutiest of pies, my little Kumquat:

You are just six months and two weeks old, and already I feel as though your childhood is slipping away from me. We're just barely more than halfway through your first year of life; in a few months, you'll officially be a "toddler", a baby no more. We cannot know where the Road may take us, nor what the Universe has planned, but I can (and do) make you these promises:

1. I promise not to pass along my own insecurities.
You will never hear me utter the word "diet" or criticize someone's weight (yours, mine, or anyone else's). I will never tell you to "put on a little lipstick", nor will I ever suggest, in any way, shape or form, that you are not "good enough". You are so much more, darling - so very much more, and you are so much better than me (or your father). I hope you never look in the mirror and think your beautiful face needs make up, or see the number on the scale and tell yourself you need to lose ten/twenty/whatever pounds. You are healthy, safe and happy - THAT is what matters.

However - I reserve the right to call you my "chubby chubster" until your first birthday.

2. I promise to always listen to you.
Whether it's baby cries and pterodactyl noises or chattering about boys and clothes or your thoughts on how to solve the Middle East, I promise to always listen to you with an open mind and full attention. I want to hear what you have to say, I want to know what you're thinking, and I'm so excited to have the opportunity to experience the world through your eyes.

3. I promise to always encourage you to stand up for yourself - and that I will always stand up for you as well.
Your words, your opinion, your thoughts matter. I hope you will be confident in who you are and never feel like you have to hide yourself, especially from me. Carve out your own place in this world, and be the unique, powerful woman I know you have inside of you. And if/when it ever happens that you are unable to stand up for yourself, I promise to always be there to back you up.

4. I promise to always forgive you.
There will be times when you make mistakes. You will probably make choices I don't agree with, and you will almost definitely do something your father doesn't approve of. You may get in trouble, fall in love with the wrong boy, or do something you regret - or all of the above. I promise you that no matter what that thing is, how awful the mistake or how stubborn the disapproval, I will always be there for you. I may not agree with you, but I will always, always love you, and I will always help you fix it.

5. I promise to always be your safe haven.
Just as I will always forgive you, darling, I promise to always do my absolute best to protect you, and for those times that I can't, I will always be your solace.

6. But I also promise to never lie to you, and provide "tough love" when needed.
I love you, and I want to see you succeed in everything you do - but I also don't want to see you waste your life in ambivalence or mediocrity when you are capable of so much more (I speak from experience). If your dream is to be a singing tightrope walker, but you have a medical condition that makes it impossible for you to hold your balance and you can't carry a tune to save your life, I promise to tell you (as gently as possible while still making my point). I also promise to help you find a new dream to fulfill your life, and to do everything I can to help you realize it (see #7).

7. I promise to never tell you that you can't do something just because you're [insert perceived flaw here].
Whether you want to play football or be the president or a stay at home mom, I will never tell you that you can't do something because you're a girl, or for any other silly, shallow reason. I will never try to dissuade you from your dearest dreams, and I will do whatever I can to support you in the things you are truly passionate about.

8. I promise to protect your youth and childhood innocence for as long as motherly possible.
Too many kids are forced to grow up too fast, and far too many want to. Having been on both sides of the age divide, I can assure you that the grass is not nearly as green here on the grown up side as it looks. I promise to shield you from the meaning of words like "twerk" for as long as possible, and to help you chase unicorns and sprinkle fairy dust for as long as you'll let me.

9. I promise to always make you my #1 priority.
I feel like this one should be obvious, but I have seen so many parents to whom their children are an inconvenience or annoyance; parents who ignore their kids at all times, except when it is convenient for them, and I want to make it crystal clear that from the moment you were born, every action I have taken has been for you. Every step, every breath, every decision, has been made in consideration of your well-being and happiness, and I promise to continue with you at the absolute forefront of my thought for the remainder of my (blessed) life. Sometimes, my reasons may not seem clear; sometimes, I may make mistakes; sometimes, short term desires will have to be sacrificed in the name of long term needs. But every moment of my life is for you.

10. I promise to always, always love you, with every ounce of my being.
I will always love you, little girl. There is no force on this earth, no action you could take nor mistake you could make that would even temper that love, let alone extinguish it. You are my Soul, baby girl, external to my Self and yet the center of my Being, and I love you in a powerful, intense, gentle, beautiful way that only a mom can understand.

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