Babies and Blessings

One of my nearest and dearest friends, Mallory, had a little bundle of joy in February- Gavin Mark. I helped throw one of her baby showers in December and met some of her friends who loved her and her soon-to-be baby as much as I did! 

 Shane and me with baby Gavin a few weeks after he was born.

This past weekend, one of those friends- Katie- threw Mallory a Baby Meet-and-Greet party- something that was new to me, despite all my baby shindigs.

The party was held at the yoga studio at which Mallory teaches, and it was lovely meeting all her “yogi” friends. Katie had mentioned on the invitation to bring something for Mallory to fill a jar with good things for Mallory. Not sure if i was on the right track, I brought a tube of my favorite fancy lip gloss to remind her not to forget about little luxuries, and hoped it would suffice. 

Walking into the yoga room, shoes off, lights low, you could feel just a very cool energy. Baby Gavin was happy and peaceful, the girls were lovely to be around, and I was just genuinely happy to be there for my friend and her baby. 

We first wrote blessings for Gavin’s life to be displayed in a doorway blessing (I couldn’t find much online about this but it is basically a banner made of colorful fabric that hangs outside of the nursery door with separate little pockets to stuff the written blessings). Everyone went around and shared their blessing, and then it was time for the bowl for Mallory. Not exactly what I was thinking, the bowl was full of homemade sugar scrub and some of the guests added “pixie dust,” lavender essential oils, and stones with things like “patience” written on them. Obviously, I couldn’t exactly add lip gloss to this concoction, but the idea was the still the same: pamper yourself, you’ve done a miraculous thing bringing this life into the world, and even if just for a moment- you deserve to be treated like royalty. At least I know Mallory will appreciate her skin AND lips being as soft as a baby’s bottom…(chuckle chuckle…get it!?)

I am so excited for Mallory’s journey, and grateful that I have been able to play a small part in it. Gavin is such a beautiful gift and Mallory and her husband, Stefan are already amazing parents. 

What are some unique ideas you have seen displayed at baby or wedding showers?

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, I Am My Mother After All.

It is no surprise by now that my mother is my best friend.We are completely opposite in some very key areas, we are alike in all the onesthat count, and we bring out the best (and I guess worst) in each other incertain instances that take me by surprise.

Of course, as I am sure most daughters of mothers (yes ladies, that would be all of us) can attest to, there was that one moment whereI realized, “oh my gracious, I’m turning into her!” It started harmlesslyenough, when I realized I wiped the sink down in my first dorm room the way Isubconsciously watched my mother do so many times. As time went on though, Ifound myself doing things- saying things- SOUNDING just like her. I saw a signonce that said, “sometimes I open my mouth and my mother comes out.” I smirkedonly because I’ve never read anything more true.

I’m going to be honest- as a grown adult with my very ownjob and bills (hooray!...), it is so easy to be best friends with my mother from8 hours away. I miss her, I cry for her, and I look forward to our dailyconversations. But it took a little adjusting when she recently came to staywith me for a week and a half.  How couldshe not know to turn the lights off? I don’t think I have EVER turned the lighton in my spare bedroom. How dare she move my expertly placed decorative pillowson the couch. And, gasp! She tried my eye cream??!! I’m not sure how Ms. EsteeLauder would feel about that.

To figure out the level of my ridculousness, I shared thesethings with the always level-headed Shane. Not even half-way through mydramatic, adjective-ridden spiel, however, he just couldn’t help the smirk. The smirk quickly turned into laughter and I just stared at him. “What is sofunny!?” I said, gaping. “Honey,” he began, still laughing, but a gentle handon my shoulder. “You act JUST like her.”

So there it was. As a 24-year-old woman who prided herselfon independence, whit, savvy shopping, and promptness, there was no escapingthose little quirky quirks of my mother. They were swimming in my veins. Therewas no alternate exit. Pass “go” and collect 500 genes.  

On a recent trip to visit her family in Pennsylvania (see a previous post about this wonderful place here), mymother sent me a picture. It simply said, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, I am mymother after all.”

So, ladies, if it hasn’t happened yet- take heart. It iscoming…and probably quicker than you would think.  You will wake up one day, look in the mirror,and realize that face staring back at you is not your own. It’s the face, voice,mannerisms, idiosyncrasies, laugh, fashion sense, and dance skills of noneother than mommy dearest.

Good thing I happen to have a mother who is beautiful,charming, fashionable, funny, AND a great dancer.  I certainly lucked out.