What Do I Tell My Kids?

I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a few weeks now. It’s been simmering in my heart, with the words stringing themselves together, as they’ve always done for me, ever since I was little. But mostly I’ve been talking myself out of writing it.


I handle “politics” the way too many of us probably do. I must admit that I’m ashamed of how often I check out of all of it. Sometimes, I can pass it off as “good for my soul”–you know, the news is all just terrible, and we should turn it off and spend more time with our families. Logging into Facebook has become a harrowing act, so I’ll just scroll past everything that doesn’t strike me as peachy. And I’ll zip up the walls of my bubble super-duper tight until all I worry about is my laundry and my dinner and my husband and my kids…



My kids. What do I say to my kids?


The other day, as we were driving to school, we pulled off to the side of the road for an ambulance to pass. “Let’s pray for them,” Gabby suggested, and boy did I swell with pride. She knows to do that because I’ve modeled it for her. We hear and see a lot of ambulances because we live close to a hospital, so there have been several times that I’ve suggested just that thing when we let one pass. We pray that God would heal whoever is inside quickly, that He would cover him or her and the family involved with peace, that the person inside would get to return home soon. This day, Gabby said the prayer, and then she asked why we should. She was doing what I’d showed her without even understanding the reason behind it (parenting is just the worst because they tend to watch what you do more than listen to what you say. It’s a terrible/terrific path for growing yourself as well as your children, and it’s why I eat so many stinking cookies.)

Anyway, I answered her with carefully considered words that were in direct contrast to my actions: “Well, we want to always have our eyes open to see when other people need us to pray for them or to love them in some other way. Remember, our number one job on Earth is to make others feel loved so that they might know Jesus.”

This is the kind of thing I tell my kids (Keep in mind that though a brilliant scholar most assuredly, Emerson is 8 months old and not quite taking it all in.)

IMG_2119 (1).PNG

But in the same hour, I find myself scrolling past all of it and instead of any of it hitting me, it just bounces off my bubble. These great, big decisions that our country has to make become conversation topics for Caleb and me as we make dinner, and that’s it. I forget that my number one job on Earth is to love people–not just my people–and I go to bed.


Even if I wanted to make this a political post, I couldn’t. I haven’t the understanding, the wisdom, nor the heart to craft something worthy in this particular political climate (or, if we’re being honest, any political climate. But boy do I know my parentheses, and I’m happy to add to the chatter about them in the world.)

But lately, I’ve felt so heavy. Over and over, as I’m making dinner or running baths or folding laundry, I think, “What can I do?” and “Thank God my children can’t read yet.” How would I explain to them if they could? What would I tell them about the divisiveness and the hate and the fear that is rising up around us? What would I say?


The other day in the car, we prayed for whoever was in the ambulance, and then I prayed for my own, well, lack of prayer. “This much you can do,” the Holy Spirit reminded me. “This much you must do.”

For the families who are fleeing war and destruction, for the mamas who nuzzle their babies’ heads just as I did my own last night, I can pray. And for those who are living in fear because of their nationalities or skin colors or beliefs any which way they fall, I can pray. And for the babies who have been aborted and for the mothers who have had to make those choices and for the lawmakers who can push change for the babies in the future, I can pray. And for my friends who believe differently than me and for my own heart that so enjoys its comfy bubble and for my children, who will one day learn to read (probably), I can pray.



What do I tell my children, friends? What do I tell them? I tell them that the world needs more than kindness and compassion–it needs a Savior. I tell them that even more, a Savior it has, and that they should proclaim the good news not with ALL CAPS or damning memes or political party affiliations, but in the way they love the people they encounter. I tell Gabby that before she speaks, she must ask herself, “Is it kind? Is it true? Is it respectful?” and I tell you and me that, too. I tell them to stop and pray, to center their hearts back on what is good and true and holy, and to lift the least of these up to Him.

I tell them that they have to go to bed because God created early bedtimes for moms and dads so GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW. I tell Gabby that the smoke detector in her room is a camera and I can see when she gets out of bed. Father, forgive me, but I had to tell her something.

When they’re older, I will tell them that the world will prosecute them, but that they must do all they can to further the Gospel with the gifts they have. I will tell them that I don’t have all or even many of the answers, but that I do know that it’s dangerous to lock your doors because you can and forget that the mothers caught in between countries are praying prayers of safety over their babies, just like I do for them each night.



Here’s what I tell my children: “We want to always have our eyes open to see when people need us to pray for them or to love them in some other way. Remember, our number one job on Earth is to make other people feel loved so that they might know Jesus.” It’s really the same thing I pray for myself, the prayer I’m sometimes afraid to have answered: Eyes that see. Ears that hear. A heart that will stop at nothing. And please, Lord, keep these children safe.

And Father? Tell them to go to sleep.


Top 20 Baby Registry MVPs

I have a confession: My name is Lindsey and I’m a researchaholic.

I guess there are worse things. But I found out I was pregnant around 8 a.m. on a Saturday, and by 9:30 that morning, I was already researching car seats. I kept that up for almost the entire time Emerson cooked, though I did let up around week 39 day 5 because then I just napped. Anyway, we only have the one baby (plus the one kid who is surprisingly low-maintenance gear-wise) and by the time we have another, all my research will be outdated. I have so many friends who are embarking down the motherhood (and fatherhood) path, so here! Take my research! You don’t even have to pay for it.

These are all things we received or bought for Emerson that we’ve used and loved. This is not, by any means, an exhaustive list of baby necessities (although you really don’t need as much as you think. Promise!), but I think this list and this one does a good job at that. So, for example, a crib isn’t on this list, but you will need a baby sleeping place of your choice. These are just things that have made our lives way easier for all of or part of Emerson’s life. And that’s no small feat.

Also, new mamas, please, please, please consider consignment! I can count on one hand the number of times we bought something brand-new for baby E and he’s a happy baby nonetheless. Baby items are everywhere and you can save yourself so much money by asking friends, shopping Facebook Marketplace or resale sites, and hitting up consignment sales. Most baby gear is in great shape because the parents only used it for a few months (other than the big-ticket items, that’s usually the shelf life of any particular baby thing.) Plus, the only weapons newborns have against something is poop; they’re not really banging things up.

Alright, without further ado and in no particular order, here it is:

The List of Items I Could Live Without But Really Wouldn’t Want To:

  1. The Boppy // Why we love it: It does everything. I’ve heard that other nursing pillows can be better for actual nursing, but I got along with the Boppy just fine after the first few weeks (and before that, I just stacked up extra bed pillows.) But after I stopped using it for nursing, I used it to support Emerson while he was laying down and then learning to sit, which is really helpful since we have hardwood floors.photo-jul-06-6-30-30-am
  2. The Baby K’Tan // Why we love it: There were many days when this is the reason we all survived. It’s a carrier that fits like a wrap, so tiny, snuggly babies are close to mama. There’s no tying, which is a big deal when you’re trying to pin a 2-week-old to your body. I wore Emerson all the time when he was tiny, and even though he wasn’t a great napper, he always fell asleep in the K’Tan. Mamas, there will be a day when the Witching Hour finds you and you don’t want to be caught without this (or some other wrap. Or a margarita.)photo-jun-19-1-06-10-pm
  3. The Halo Swaddle // Why we love it: Pre-baby, I was obsessed with growing our swaddle collection. I’m really glad I was, because Emerson slept swaddled for four months and when we let the swaddles go, we all cried tears of sadness. So we tried several different kinds, and they all swaddled, but this one was my favorite. These are runners-up.photo-jun-07-10-19-51-pm
  4. Aden & Anais Swaddle Blankets // Why we love them: I know, I know. $50 for blankets! That you can get cheaper! They’re just baby blankets! I don’t know what Aden or Anais puts in these things, but it must be magical strands of…magic. They’re so soft. They’re so sweet. They really are breathable, so we felt OK swaddling Emerson in them during the summer. We have six, which felt like too many, but I kind of wish we had six more. (Bonus: All of the Aden & Anais prints work well together–and many of them are gender-neutral–and we actually use their stuff for our nursery as well.)photo-jun-01-11-06-11-am
  5. Cloth Diapers // Why we love them: I made the snap decision to throw these in our Amazon cart a week before Emerson was born and IT WAS MOTHER’S INTUITION. My people, motherhood is like…a swamp. Especially if you’re breastfeeding. There’s milk. There’s spit up. There’s slobber. (Although our pediatrician told me Emerson “drools more than many,” so maybe you’ll get a “drools less than many” or even a “drools on par with many.” May the odds be ever in your favor.) These are cheap, wash well, and soak everything right up. They do kind of disappear on you, so get two packs. Or 17, if you’re a planner.
  6. Zutano Booties //  Why we love them: They stay on!!!!!! You might not yet think that warrants so many exclamation points, but you will see. You will see, my friend. (The best I have is a picture of him wearing one. But they do usually stay on.) img_2064
  7. IKEA ANTILOP High Chair // Why we love it: Let me tell you what happens in a high chair: Humans under the age of 3 eat. It’s not pretty. This high chair is cheap, but mostly because it’s bare bones. It’s like the Aldi of high chairs, and who doesn’t love Aldi? There’s no cover (though I think you can buy one?) but you don’t want one, because your baby has spent months on cushiony surfaces, and it’ll be OK sitting here for mealtimes. Plus, everything WIPES OFF. No need to toss anything in the washing machine (which I would seriously have to do after every meal). It also doesn’t take up a lot of space. It’s not a work of art, but it’s also not the most terribly designed baby thing I’ve ever seen.img_2102
  8. Baby Jogger City Mini Stroller // Why we love it: Listen, treat Caleb and me like your personal baby stroller shoppers. We did buy our stroller brand-new as an investment for the Osborne babies, so we read and read and read and pushed strollers around Buy Buy Baby and opened and folded them and on and on. We actually purchased an UppaBaby (an older version), but I just had a feeling it was too heavy and too hard to fold. I have used the City Mini almost every day since Emerson was a couple of weeks old (we got this car seat and the adapter to make it a travel system.) It was the easiest part of taking a 3-year-old and a newborn to the park. I can open it and fold it with one hand, it maneuvers really well, and is fairly light. img_2089
  9. Fisher Price Rock and Play // Why we love it: I’ve never read a must-have baby items list that didn’t include the rock and play. Ours does not have the automatic rock setting (we bought it used and it is an older model), but I actually liked that, so that Emerson didn’t get used to sleeping while moving constantly. He had terrible acid reflux as a newborn and slept in this until he was around 10 weeks old. When he woke up, one of us would give it a rock and he’d often be lulled back to sleep. Anything that will do that is worth your kidney, but I think you can get them for cheaper than that. Processed with VSCO with f2 preset
  10. Gripe Water and/or Gas Drops // Why we love them: Do they work? I don’t know. What I do know is that there will be a moment when your baby is crying and you’ve exhausted all of your options, and it will at least make you feel better to give him or her something if you think the tummy is the problem. Emerson was really into both of these things. I don’t have a picture of them in action, though.
  11. myBaby Sound Machine // Why we love it: In my opinion, this sound machine has the deepest, most well-balanced sounds (meaning they sound like “real” sounds, if that makes sense.) We also have this one and like it a lot, but the noise is just not quite as rich. This sound machine has been a lifesaver–the world is louder than you think! Even if you don’t have a 4-year-old whose only two volumes are mumbling and MOMMY CAN YOU COME HERE, there will be squeaky brakes, UPS men knocking at the door, action movies playing after bedtime, etc. I don’t have a picture of this either, but I can show you what it produces: photo-sep-17-10-06-43-pm
  12.  Skip Hop Bathtub // Why we love it: For some reason, I felt really impassioned about infant bathtubs when I was pregnant and went back and forth 1,000 times on which one for which to register. I chose this one and I’m happy I did. The sling makes it comfy for even tiny babies (not that my 10-pounder ever tested that out), but my favorite part is that it has a hook, so we hang it on our shower bar to drain at night, and it’s (semi) out of the way. Processed with VSCO with c1 preset
  13. Medela Nipple Shield // Why we love it: It saved our breastfeeding. When Emerson was born, he was very reluctant to latch, and the nurse handed me one of these in the delivery room. Admittedly, I was disheartened that we needed it, but looking back, I’m so grateful I had it. We used it for 9 weeks for almost every feeding. (It seemed like SUCH a long time then!) And one day, Emerson latched all on his own and has been a happy milk connoisseur ever since. I’m not necessarily saying you need to go out and buy one if you’re planning on breastfeeding or that you need to jump to these right away if your baby has trouble latching, but I did want to put it on the list in case some people weren’t aware they even existed. (It was the only thing I used out of all of the breastfeeding “supplies” I bought!) Also, mamas–if you’re going to breastfeed, mostly you just need patience, a good friend who breastfed who will answer a lot of questions, and a number for a lactation consultant (just in case).
  14. Halo Sleepsack // Why we love it: We use this now that Emerson has dropped the swaddle. Warm baby toes make babies warm and warm babies sleep well. I can’t find a picture of him in this either, but that’s because we zip him up, give him a kiss, and peace out.
  15. Infant Optics DXR-5 Portable Video Monitor // Why we love it: This is another thing that we researched to death, and in the end, I picked the cheapest one with the best reviews. I’ve used it multiple times a day for almost eight months, and it’s still going strong. Though it’s not fancy, it definitely gets the job done, and I think it’s a terrific product for the price. No picture of this either, which is strange, because I KNOW I’ve texted Caleb pictures of Emerson not napping with the caption, “Please come get your baby.”
  16. Munchkin Changing Pad Liners // Why we love them: If you have a changing pad or table, these guys (or something similar) really are necessary. Remember, newborns’ most powerful weapon is poop, and they know how to sling it. These protect your pretty changing pad cover and you can just drop them in the washing machine. And after approximately 7,395 washes, ours are still holding up pretty well.photo-jun-08-7-01-44-pm
  17. Safe Tech Baby Car Mirror // Why we love it: This revolutionized car rides with our baby, who would get bored and start to scream. Long before he was able to play with toys, he would smile and coo at the cute baby looking back at him. But even more so, I love that I can see him when I’m driving, so I know if he’s asleep/dropped his paci/etc.
  18. MAM Glow-in-the-Dark Pacifiers // Why we love them: We wanted to be those strong parents who didnt give their baby a paci so that he’d learn to soothe himself. And then, our second night in the hospital, we gave it a go, and…yeah, here we are. If you decide to go the paci route, there will be a few months of frantically trying to find it in the middle of the night. (Eventually they learn to find it themselves!) These were recommended by my sister-in-law, and she was right! The pacis are a lot easier to find if they’re glowing.Photo Jul 06, 7 34 45 PM.jpg
  19. Tommee Tipee Easi Roll Bib // Why we love them: I’ve heard rumors that some babies sit in their highchairs, open their mouths, and let you spoon purees into their mouths. My offspring, on the other hand, clamps his mouth shut and/or blows raspberries with his lips until I hand over the spoon/pouch/cup. So we’ve taken more of a Baby Led Weaning route, and these bibs keep me from having to pick up steamed apples off the floor 5,000 times (now I pick them up off the floor 4,000 times and scoop them out of the bib for the other thousand.)
  20. OxiClean // Why we love it: Well…let me just say, Oxiclean you the real MVP. Rest in peace, that white onesie that got washed that time I ran out of OxiClean.13924815_10154465140931079_8524477565241209679_n

That’s it! Of course, you’ll also need diapers, coffee, and good Chapstick because your lips get dry from kissing cheeks all.day.long. Other mamas and papas: What did I forget?

What It’s Like to Love a Kid

The moment I first felt like a mother wasn’t when they placed a wriggly, slick body on my chest; for me, that came later. It wasn’t the first time I sang Gabby to sleep or when she cried in the middle of the night and I rose out of sleep or when she fell at a baseball game and stood still and screamed in all her 2.5-year-old glory until I came and picked her up.


Continue reading “What It’s Like to Love a Kid”

Onward Bound

Do you smell that?

There’s a hint of victory in the air; ah yes, victory (Roll Tide) mixed with a splash of productivity and a hint of melancholy. It must be January.

I hear lots of people love January. As a self-proclaimed list-maker extraordinaire and lover of productivity and purging, you might think I would, but I missed the fresh-start gene. January is, by far, my least favorite month, because Christmas is gone, it’s grey, and there’s nothing to look forward to.

I’m sorry. I can tell that my cheer is overwhelming you.

Anyway, in a totally out-of-character move, I welcomed the dawn of the new year this year, and not just because 2016 was the year Alan Rickman died (though that did make me cry.) Our 2016 was remarkable–hard but lovely. Joyful but challenging. Probably just as life should be.

The first half was spent preparing: buying little diapers, tying up loose ends at B-Metro, finding Caleb a double-car-seat-friendly car, buying new pants. We grew. And grew. And grew some more. OK, that was just me and Emerson.


And then, almost smack dab in the middle of the year, around 3:30 in the afternoon, everything changed.


We embarked on life as a family of four (six! six! Sorry, Scout and Francie) and moved to a new city and waved Caleb off to start a new year of medical school…all in three weeks. It was so much fun!


It really was. But sometimes–sometimes it was pretty hard. A certain baby I know had a knack for hour-long nursing sessions and a certain now-4-year-old I know had a knack for (understandable) meltdowns and a certain me I know had a knack for forgetting to eat snacks and a certain husband I know had a knack for going to school when he was supposed to and luckily, my sister-in-law is really responsive to her text messages because I needed help.

But, as you do, we survived in a sleep-deprived, love-drunk haze. Eventually, Gabby adjusted to her baby brother and the baby brother started sleeping more. Caleb, of course, Caleb Osborned every rotation. And I adjusted (and am still adjusting) to life as a freelance writer and stay-at-home mom, where the joy is rampant and the pants are yoga.


Which brings us here. This year, life seems quieter. We have no plans to welcome any babies, make any moves, or even adopt any fish (although we’re aware we’re not fully in control of any of those things, especially fish adoptions.) As January dawns, it feels like our whole house is letting out a sigh of relief: We did it. We made it. Let’s take a nap.


Still, this is the first year that I’ve felt the urge to make some sort of plan for my time and energy. In years past, either it was a given that I’d get to do the things I love–read, write, leave the unmatched socks in the laundry basket for months at a time–or, like in 2016, all my energy was focused on L-I-V-I-N and that was enough (see: that day in July when I gave 6-week-old Emerson a cookie for the 15-minute-long nap he took.) This year, the challenge is to be intentional with my time and my energy and my gifts and all of those terrific buzzwords people like to throw around in January.

So far, things are going exceedingly well. We ate at Chick-Fil-A today and I’m halfway through my first book of 2017 (not including the three times I’ve already read Green Eggs and Ham.)


No real resolutions here, except to send my husband funnier text messages and talk on the phone more with my best friend. I’d also like to spend more time petting my cats and figure out the formula for bottling up a 7-month-old’s giggle. And, of course, I want to write more and love better. More patience, less arm-crossing and huffing while I unload the dishwasher. More gentleness and less eye rolling (I’m looking at you, Emerson.) More phone calls and text messages to say hello and less scrolling through Instagram even though I just checked it six minutes ago.

More coffee? Definitely.

Happy 2017, friends. May the force be with you.