Oh, how life is different with offspring. I've written a lot about the transformation from party of two to party of three- how it has redefined certain words for me, and how the transition into motherhood was so incredible I could never have prepared.  And the journey continues. Almost eight months in, and I'm learning every single day. I can't say it always gets easier, but it certainly stays interesting and full of so much joy. Here are a few things I've learned so far...

Recently this photo showed up in my FB feed- the number "4" tattoo I got with my sister four years ago.

My husband will tell you the tattoo was for him- that it commemorates his lacrosse number, despite the fact that it predates my knowledge of his very existence.

Instead, this one was for the girls- for my mama, two sisters and myself. Four very different ladies that love each other fiercely and unconditionally no matter where we are in the world.

Before Maddie Mae was born, I stood up on my soap box and denounced the color pink. I was very adamant about the idea that MM shouldn't be forced to like the color, or bows, or hearts or anything too "girly" simply because she was a girl.

Four years ago, I woke up out of an emotional fog + decided to make a big change in my life. I was living in California, somewhat lost, in a not-so-fairytale relationship, without my tribe, with no direction whatsoever. Yuck.

The transition into life as a First Time Mom {FTM} is the greatest one I've experienced in the last thirty years- the polarity between my new life and my former being so vast, I couldn't possibly have anticipated the reality of the changes that would take place.

It has officially been two weeks since we transitioned our little one from my bedside to her nursery- a move I had dreaded since the day she was born. From that first day, I was neurotic about watching her sleep- sometimes placing a fingertip on her little chest to make extra sure she was breathing.

Most nights, my husband will bring me an ice-cold glass of water and place it on my nightstand; and in the morning, he will lay out two Nespresso pods, a Splenda and a mug for my morning coffee. These sweet gestures are two of my favorite things in life- simple signs of "I love you," sure to put a smile on my face. 

The past few weeks have been a learning experience for everyone in this household; with the biggest student, perhaps, being yours truly.  I've learned so much since the birth of my daughter, much of which has completely redefined words I once thought I had understood. 

In my pre-pregnancy life, I was an avid Soul Cyclist. I rode at least five times a week- particularly in the year leading up to my pregnancy, during which fertility treatments wreaked havoc on my mind and body.  Riding was my therapy, keeping me strong both mentally and physically for the journey ahead.

It became part of my every day routine, and I had so badly wanted to be one of those little pregnant women that happily pedaled all the way into their third trimester.  So when complications kept me from riding throughout my pregnancy, it was challenging. I was frustrated with my body, now so foreign to me; and struggled to find an alternative outlet to ease my anxieties. I walked and practiced yoga, but it just wasn't the same.