Turning Eight

"I'm eight-years-old today!"

That's what Aiden said as soon as he woke up yesterday morning. Happily. Energetically. And as though he were ready to take on the world.

I can't even begin to believe that I now have an 8-year-old son. And that I've been a mother for eight years. Eight!

These past eight years have been perfectly imperfect and nothing short of amazing. Hard at times, stressful at times, but pure, pure wonderment.

He may be just eight, but he's got an old soul. I swear, there are times when I feel as though he's been here before. With his precocious wisdom, his tell-it-like-it-is outspoken attitude, his grandpa-like demeanor, and his energetic and loving spirit. His name means "fiery" or "little fire" and he embodies that name. In every sense of the word.

He is truly a ball of energy. At... all... times... and he never tires. Ever since he started preschool, every year, one of his teachers has given him a nickname along the lines of "Mr. Busy." (I'm not kidding.)

Aiden's never been one to just "go with the flow." He's always questioned and wondered and challenged the status quo and I absolutely love that about him. I wish I were that bold when I was his age. (Heck, I wish I were that bold even now as an adult.)

This has been a very hard year for me and him and us. But the fact that he's still standing shows me just how resilient he's learning to be. And that's a trait that I really admire in him.

He inspires me.

To do better. To reach further. To learn more and try harder and work smarter.

He inspires me.

To love harder, stronger, and more effectively.

He inspires me.

To learn to forgive and understand the true meaning of unconditional love. To parent gracefully.

This year, I've worried and prayed and cried and prayed some more. I've tried to instill value and character in him. I've tried to push him to be his absolute best and absolutely see the best in him... even when he wasn't exactly showing his best self. I've learned to advocate and fight and move mountains for him.

And I haven't grown weary. Because... he inspires me.

I hope Aiden knows how much I love him. Like, with everything in me, down to my fiber and bones and all up in my DNA. I hope he knows how proud I am of him and how I would find a way to make the impossible happen for him. I hope he knows that, no matter what, I'll always, always have his back and be there to teach and lead and guide him.

He always says, "Mommy, I love you all the way to outer space and even pass God."

Right back atcha, kiddo.

Right back atcha!

The Cycle of Parenthood

If you're hanging out with the Mommy Delicious crew on Facebook, then you'll know that these days, my time is spent with struggling to get Aiden over a rough patch. A really rough patch. And that I keep on repeating the same phrase: This parenting thing ain't for the wimps.

Because it ain't.

It's hard.

And draining at times and overwhelming at times and downright thankless at times.

Lately my relationship with Aiden has been only about what's going wrong, what he needs to fix, or his bad day at school. And that's been emotionally taxing. For him and me.

So this weekend I decided that what Aiden and I needed was time together. With just us. He needed my undivided attention and I needed him to see that we can still have positive interactions... even in the midst of turmoil.

On Saturday, we had Game Night. We took a trip to Target and I allowed him to pick out any board game he wanted to. Monopoly, Trouble, Candy Land, and Bounce Off were his top picks. So that's what we played when we got home. On the floor, with no smartphone, and no social media, for as long as we wanted.

We laughed and learned from each other and got to know each other. All over again. It was... glorious. And refreshing.

Aiden needed to see that my love for him is unconditional. And that our life doesn't have to be losses of privileges and scoldings and time-outs and tough talks.

It can be fun too!

On Sunday, I was tired. Because: pregnancy. But I took him bowling anyway. And to the arcade. Again, it was just us. No smartphone, no social media. Just us... laughing, learning from each other, and getting to know each other. All over again.

Is this a magic pill to fix whatever's wrong? No! But it's definitely a start.

Aiden's actions have been due in part because he's resisting and resenting change, in part because he's feeling pretty powerless with all the things he has to do, in part because he's needing and wanting attention, and in part because it's all too confusing for him. He's regressing. And it's hard and scary and overwhelming to deal with.

So I'm giving him love and affection and attention. And he's seeing the school counselor to help him during the day. And his school and I decided it was best to switch his class so that he now has two full time lead teachers in his classroom (instead of one full time lead teacher and one part time assistant teacher). The adults at his school are really trying to help him and are going above and beyond to support him during this time. I'm so grateful and thankful for them.

And HEB is spending more time with him. And my sister is checking in on him daily. Because, like I said before, I'm calling on the village to help this kid through his rough patch.

It's part of the cycle of parenthood and we're taking it moment-by-moment. Some moments are amazing and joyful. And some moments are frustrating and overwhelming. But, in the end, I know that I'll look back on this time and this cycle, smile, and thank God that we made it through.

Because we will.

{Personal Style} Love, With a 1920's Vintage Flare

Over the weekend I got all dolled up, traveled back in time, and HEB and I headed to the wedding of two lovely friends. Hosted at The Metropolitan Building in Long Island City, the wedding theme was 1920's vintage, and the guests and bride and groom came ready to show out!

I, on the other hand, refused to buy a 1920's style maternity dress (is that even a thing?!) so I wore one of my black maternity dresses. I literally have four different black maternity dresses -- one with a cap sleeve, one with a scoop neck, and two with 3/4 sleeves in two different sizes (small and extra small). It's become somewhat of a staple for Baby Delicious and me, and I ain't even mad! (HEB, on the other hand, makes fun of me every time I'm in "another black dress?!")

But I digress. 

I decided to dress up my maternity dress with 1920's-inspired accessories -- pearls and statement necklaces, a faux fur shawl with a brooch detail, and a feathered hairpin. For a pop of color, I wore pink peep toe pumps. They aren't exactly 1920's-inspired, but they added a modern twist and a perfect pop of color. 

I thought the entire outfit looked classic! 

And the bride and groom? Well, they were just as stunning and loving and happy as ever. It was definitely a wedding to remember. 

So happy I got to be apart of their special day! Cheers to Daryl and Nicole!

Hope you all are having a fabulous week. Stay stylish!