Chapter 32

It’s kind of crazy turning 32. I distinctly remember feeling that this particular age was so far away so I basically felt like I blinked and here I am: grad school graduate, married 5 years, and baby boy that’s cuter than I could’ve ever asked….and turning 32. When I thought about my 30’s I always imagined, I’d have it all together. That there was this grand plan that plateaued at 30 and that was the epitome of being a grown up. Boy was I wrong! And I’m so glad I was wrong.

I am still growing, but I will say since I did enter my 30’s, I’ve learned the art of self-reflection. This is a difficult piece of maturity that can be chilling when we search within to find out who we really are and sometimes we come face to face with the fact that we need to change. I never thought I’d be in my 30’s and be a completely different person and in many ways I’m still that 22 year old girl who can get wild when the mood strikes. But those raw parts of me, the parts that never allowed vulnerability, seeing it as a weakness, yet self-criticism was a ritual for me, I not too long ago was faced with challenges that forced me to look at who I truly was and really just started asking myself, “Giana, is this who you want to be?” The answer was no for the most part, so I changed my habits, my thoughts and perspectives. I realized the power of choice and my GOD was that freeing. We all know we have the choice to do or be or say things we want, but have we really ever taken advantage of those choices and actually made them? So what choices have I made ushering me into the 32nd chapter.

  • I have made the choice of happiness. I am choosing to be happy, regardless of circumstance and situation.
  • I am choosing my husband-everyday. Because that’s what marriage is. The choice to love that person every damn day until you die. And I happily make that choice. (We’re renewing our vows soon btw! Stay tuned.)
  • I choose freedom in faith. My unwavering faith in God knowing He’s got me. No questions asked.
  • I choose to create time, instead of complaining that I don’t have it.
  • I choose to be present. Making eye contact when my son calls my name, leaving my phone in the other room while I play with him or put him to sleep.
  • I choose to pour myself into every facet of life where my passion leads.
  • I choose to share. I choose to share my experiences, lessons I’ve learned, the times I’ve fallen. Because mistakes are what make us great. And hiding those mistakes in shame does no one any good.
  • I choose to learn. I choose to accept that I don’t know everything and that every moment is an opportunity to grow.
  • I choose to be brave-standing firm in who I am, drawing boundaries, and demanding self-respect. From strangers, friends, and family. It’s important to see that there are limits to what we accept into our spaces.
  • I choose to see each road block as a redirection to something better instead of using my energy to move it.
  • I choose to see every person I meet and everyone in my life as a teacher with a lesson. Whether they see it that way or not. I choose to ask myself what I can learn from every encounter.
  • I choose to let my curls be crazy sometimes and not really care.I choose to see make up as an addition to beauty and show my son a woman’s natural beauty.
  • I choose to accept the responsibility of being a mother and understanding that sometimes it means putting myself, my well-being, and mental wellness first.
  • I choose to be my best everyday and I choose to understand that my best each day can look different.

That being said, hello 32!

XO,

GV

Surviving the Regression Opression

Unbeknownst to me, there is a two year sleep regression that no one felt necessary to mention as I approached toddlerhood with Noah. I had to find out through Pinterest, which I’m ok with now but why did no one write about this? At least on how they made it out alive. Well I’m writing to you as we are in the eye of the storm and let me tell you- it’s real.

My poor baby boy has begun to cry, correction, scream, himself to sleep. No amount of hugs or cuddles will soothe him. He screams for Dada if I have him and screams for Mama if Josh has him. Bottom line: no one is winning. When I get him, it’s a battle for my boobs. Part of the regression? Nursing again like a newborn. So 2 weeks of feeling lost in my own house with my own child and 2 emotional breakdowns later what have I figured out?

  • I discovered the art of letting Noah choose: I let him pick a friend to bring to bed. Mickey was the choice which I’m guessing we’ll be sticking with because consistency is key.
  • The “Dum” situation (boobs or nursing he calls Dum)- this is tricky but telling him Dum has ouchies and allowing him to put band-aids over my nipples has helped him register that they are unavailable. In my case, we are using nursing pasties called LilyPads if I remember correctly.
  • Water on hand.
  • Lastly, but certainly not least-patience. Say a prayer because it’s rough in this dark room with an angry toddler. However remembering this is a short time in your precious baby’s life will help you pull through.

Keep in mind, it’s not over for us, we are in the thick of it. So stay tuned on progress and how we’re doing next week! Any tips any one has for us as we continue to push through feel free to send them my way!