A Belabumbum Saturday

It’s a running joke that bloggers rarely change out of their pajamas, and in my case – on the weekends at least – it’s only partly true. Because I do change out of my pajamas, but often into a different set of pajamas, so really I’m kind of reinforcing the preconceived notion times two, yes?

Naturally, when Belabumbum asked that I share scenes from my weekend as part of their #BackToMyBelabumbum campaign, it wasn’t a stretch for me to spend the day in loungewear. (Sidenote: I wore Belabumbum all throughout my pregnancy and am still rocking those same threads, two-ish years later!) So this past weekend, Ken documented a few snapshots of our day together – from early morning coffee breaks to couch wrestling to my go-to “me time” move:

Typically, Saturday mornings start slowly and my saint husband allows me to sleep in as late as I’d like (which, for me, is generally 9am). But this morning was different; I’d woken up with boundless energy and had a new omelette recipe to try, so Bee and I padded out to the kitchen for coffee (me) and Dumbo (her).

My day always preludes with coffee, even in the frenziest of mornings. It’s a ritual I can’t (won’t?) kick and I love how a french press slows me just enough to practice patience first thing in the morning. I crack some eggs and read a bit while things brew and cook and rise and then, inevitably, the scene where Dumbo’s mom sings “Baby Mine” comes on and Bee calls for me because this is her favorite part. We sing it together – rocking and spinning – and then gather around the dining room table for eggs and avocados and berries for all.

I clean up the kitchen while Bee finishes Dumbo and we get ready for the morning, changing into cozies if we’re lucky enough to have an afternoon free of commitments or errands ahead of us. This Saturday was such a day, so we bounded into the sunroom for morning playtime and Candi Staton on Pandora.

Stickers are the current rage, so we’ve always got a fresh supply on hand for “decorating” ourselves – shirt, shoes, noses – at the ready. It took me painfully long to realize that Bee’s butchered translation for stickers is pronounced tinkah (no ideas here), so I’m making up for lost time by allowing a few sheets per day. This means sticker time lasts forever and ever, giving Ken and I a few moments of uninterrupted conversation and also giving our furniture some adhesive street cred.

It’s always wrestling time next (because it’s always wrestling time, period) and we pile on the couch and play Airplane and invent new ticklish spots until Bee wriggles out of my grasp because she’s had her fill of attention in that moment. She’s a ball of independence, this one, and I’ll always remember how we would spend an eternity rocking and cradling and shhh’ing her as a newborn until we eventually realized that all she needed to fall asleep was for us to leave her alone.

So we do. We let go and sit on the sidelines as she gathers and digs and explores her favorite finds: cooking utensils and crayons and sunglasses and books, carrying a full-on conversation with herself in Bee-nese, a language we’re fluent in by now. She tucks in her favorite stuffed animals for “night night” – a subtle signal that her energy is dwindling and an afternoon nap is in order. (For the record, her not-so-subtle signal is Tantrum Zone, lest you think she is the perfect child.)

We cuddle in, sometimes singing a lullaby – other times telling a story, relishing a few moments before Ken scoops her up and carries her to the nursery for books and “bips” (translation: sippy cup of water).

And then, it’s quiet. I don’t work on the weekends – no emails, calls or productive ideas allowed – so I settle in to my favorite indulgence: a great read in bed. This weekend it’s a repeat of Miranda July’s beautiful work, and I enjoy an hour or so of pure, uninterrupted inspiration.

It’s a rare occurrence that I can read for an hour these days – early morning wake-up calls and bedtime exhaustion weigh down my eyelids before I hit page two, but on Saturday afternoon, I’m rested and rejuvenated – ready to dogear and highlight and explore the story that exists between the lines.

And just like that, I’m lost in another world – far from this lazy Saturday afternoon – until the distant cry of a toddler wakes me from myself, ready to take on the day and explore another story – the one that was written just for us.

Image Credits: Ken Loechner

p.s. Here’s what I’m wearing, if you’re in need of some (crazy comfortable) loungewear for pre-baby, pregnancy and beyond!: Classic Pajama Set ($88), Dottie Robe ($62) and Violette Romper ($70). And if you’d like, follow the campaign on your favorite social channels with hashtag #BackToMyBelabumbum!