Normally when I write, it's late at night when my head has been cleared and all the dust has settled in my brain and I can see things in a better light. Today however, I'm writing during naptime and I'm afraid the rawness of today will come through loud and clear.
I swear my children have secret meetings in the middle of night that go something like this:
My four year old is the ringleader and wakes the other two up to remind them that "tomorrow's the day". The goal: Lets see how long it will take to have Mom fall apart.
(I do know that this didn't happen at 4:30 last night because I was up with the one year old at that hour!)
With the goal in forefront of their minds the day begins. My two year old decides to cry about everything all morning long. I'm not making this up. I say no to having chocolate chips for breakfast (which has never happened) and you'd think I was ripping his leg off! Then he wants cereal, but not cereal in a bowl just straight from the bag. Again a "no" and again a total meltdown. After spending some time alone in his room to calm down the very first thing he does is rip a toy out of his little sisters hands. He then peed his pants three times this morning!
On top of his lovely demeanor today, the baby is on a hunger strike demonstrated by throwing every piece of food put in front of her. She will however, nurse like a newborn if I would let her! She's 13 months old!! She also has decided that things like walking and playing with toys do not seem like something she would be interested in today. Instead she would prefer to stay on my hip and will scream and pull on my legs until she gets there.
Surprisingly enough my four year old has been quite mild today. A few sassy remarks, but that's it. Now, I know this is because I haven't really asked her to do anything she objected to like get dressed or brush her hair or ask before she gets out glue sticks. I'd like to think she sees how full my hands are with the other two she figures she'll give me her good stuff another day. But, I'm sure secretly she's saying, "Haha, the plan worked....she's loosing it! And, I don't even have to do anything!"
I fell like a good hot meal in their belly's always helps turn some things around. So I thought I'd make some Mac'n Cheese for lunch instead of the regular peanut butter sandwiches and apples. Not just Mac'n Cheese, but the homemade kind. I recently saw something on pinterest about boiling noodles in milk instead of water and stirring in the cheese. I thought i'd give it a try. I'm for anything that skips a step. Did you know that milk boils like 5 times faster than water? Did you know that it doesn't steam like water so you don't know it's boiling? Did you know that when milk burns it results in disgusting solid burnt stuff and smells awful?....yeah....me either....but I do now!
As I frantically moved the baby away from the stove (because she's always right at my feet) and grabbed the pot of flowing burnt boiling milk and noodles to the sink steam filled the kitchen and for a moment I was filled with all kinds of bad emotions. I was filled with hopelessness as I thought about how I just spent 20 minutes scrubbing the stains off my stove-top YESTERDAY, and now there was burnt milk stuck and smeared all over half the surface. Why even bother? I was filled with anger, frustration, and jealousy as I thought of my husband sitting at his computer chatting with adults about the upcoming election and record breaking storms. I thought, "This stay at home mom stuff is for the birds!". I thought how different my life would look if I dropped my kids off at daycare and went to work, picked them up and came home to a clean house because no one was here all day, made dinner, baths, books, and bed and called it a day. It sounded sooo good as the baby was crying because she couldn't be wrapped around my leg while I was dealing with mess, and the two year old was screaming "food. food. food." and my four year old who is normally a good buffer for the other two decided to go off by herself to color.
That bring me to now. After having peanut butter afterall, the little ones are sleeping and my oldest is still coloring quietly, and I finally have time to think practically. I need time for my heart to tell my head what it knows. My heart knows that THESE ARE MY PEOPLE! My heart knows all these headaches will soon turn into memories. Memories that will bring a smile to my face. Memories that someday in the future will bring me comfort. My heart knows it would be torn up daily dropping them off at daycare. My heart knows I love these boogers to death through all the whining, crying, peeing, non-eating, boiling burnt milk kind of days. My heart knows I'm right where
I need to be....WITH MY PEOPLE!
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
I Say "No", Because I Love You.
We've tried really hard to set a precedent in our home that the kids receive the toys and special things they want for their birthdays, Christmas, or a special occasion, and not every time we go to the store. Even with this being the general expectation of our home, our 4 year old has decided to test the waters recently. She's smart too. She thinks she has more of chance with a cheaper item, so the dollar bins at target has become a breading ground for whining and bargaining. In fact, just the other day we went to Walmart to pick up some pacifiers for her younger brother (we lost a few traveling), and she tried to tell us how its not fair that her younger brother gets something and she didn't. She also had that little item already picked out that would quickly right the wrong that was being done to her!
These are hard but very important moments for us to stand our ground and explain that we know what's best for her. My grandfather was known for saying. "The biggest mistake GOOD parents make is giving their kids TOO MUCH." I'm confident that saying "No" will help her grow into the person I want her to become. A person who can hear disappointment and still cope, a person who can trust that her parents can see a big picture that she may not. I love her too much to let her get everything she wants. I even explain to her that there are things that I want that I can't have. She'll be dealing with this her whole life. Better learned young. You see, right now it's the trinket from the dollar bin, but down the road it'll be a sleep over that I don't feel comfortable with, or riding in a car with boys, or going to a party that has alcohol. In these moments, when I say no because i love her and know what's best for her, I want her to be confident that her parents see something she doesn't. Just like time she begged hard for a toy and forgot about it within 3 seconds of walking out the store.
I'm the parent. I call the shots. I know that hearing "No" develops character. It helps her get to know herself better and what she really wants. If that toy isn't forgot about within 3 seconds of leaving the store, and we keep hearing about it, we tell her that if she really wants it she can wait for her birthday or Christmas. This also makes her appreciate it that much more because she had been waiting for it.
It does get me to thinking: How many times do I play this game with God? How many times have come to him with requests that seem so important to me, life-changing even? And, God in his infinite wisdom looks down on me and says, "Not right now. Not this time. Put it back on the shelf." There have even been times where I shamefully have thrown a fit whining and pouting about this answer.
Please let my husband get a raise.
Take this cancer away.
Help this person see where I'm coming from.
How could these things be wrong or bad? I don't know.
But I do know that God stands over me just like I stand over my 4 year old and knows better. He knows that if I have to wait for something that I really want it could help develop me into a better person. A person HE wants me to be. It could help me learn patience, gratitude, thankfulness, or contentment. Looking back on my life a lot of things I thought were so big at the time, really were quite small. Is it possible that God knew the mountain was really an ant hill? It's not only possible its very probable! He knows and He loves me, and sometimes the answer is "Yes. Let's do this!" But, so often I fold my arms in protest and hang my head and pout all the way through the store because God said "No" to the dollar bin junk at the beginning. Sometimes it's because there's something so much better in store....something I didn't even know I wanted, but something I'll cherish forever (like a child).
Good reminder: Sometimes "No." is code for "I love you."
Friday, October 5, 2012
My Baby is One!
Today my baby turns one. Now I know turning one is a big deal in general, but its especially a big deal for this third child. Don't get me wrong, this birthday is everything it should be: a celebration of her life, but its also the day my husband and I get to look at each other and say, "We did it! We kept all three kids alive for a whole year!" So, while we're celebrating her life we're also high fiving and fist bumping on the down-low.
I know you think this sounds a little dramatic, but let me tell you when your kids are not even 2 1/2 and 5 months old when you find out number 3 is coming along, you begin to severely doubt your ability to meet everyone's physical needs more or less nurture their souls like a good mother should. So, yes, there are some high fives around here!
For a good portion of my third pregnancy I did what any mother of two other young children would do: I pretended it wasn't happening. I focused on the two I had in front of me and tried not to think about how crazy life with one more would be. God knew what he was doing when he made gestation 40 weeks. It's funny how with my first it felt like it would take forever before I was holding that baby, and by number three I was begging for a few more weeks. Even though my back hurt, I peed every 15 minutes, and I could breath while laying down, I knew the easiest part of parenting was while they're in the womb.
Three months before my due date we moved to North Carolina. New state. New people. New doctor. New hospital. Husband has a new job. No family. I had my reservations about this new life, but followed my new found mantra of "Just keep living." It works well. My new doctor agreed that number 3 should be induced just like number 2 to prevent what happened with number 1. One great thing about this plan was that my mom was able to plan a trip to be here with plenty of time before the arrival. (Hallelujah!)
Mom here? Check. Baby girl newborn clothes pulled out of storage? Check. Bassinet ready? Check. Bags packed? Check. Camera charged? Check. Let's have a baby!
We showed up at the hospital at the crack of dawn like instructed to find out that they had no room for me. My amazingly awesome nurse brought me into a triage room to "start things". Now, I call her amazingly awesome because when I informed her this baby would show up very soon after my water broke, she listened to me. She decided she didn't want to personally deliver the baby in the dinky triage room so we waited until a room was ready, then my doctor came in and broke my water. So, what does a woman who's had one baby with an epidural and one all natural do with the third birth? Everyone has their own options and beliefs about this, but I am proud to say that I had 5 bad contractions before the epidural kicked in. As they say "Fool me once..." I felt no need to knock on deaths door like I had previously experienced. Been there. Done that.
Turns out I was right. The little squirt made her appearance within an hour of my water braking. One push and there she was! We're not exactly sure how much she weighed. The scale was doing weird things at the time of her birth and somehow she magically gained a whole pound in 2 hrs, so we're guessing she was around 7 lbs. Right in between her brother and her sisters size.
A few hours later the bed was full of my whole family. All 5 of us. A crazy moment for me to look from OUR 3 year old, OUR 1 year old, and OUR newborn. I remember thinking, I sure hope this works! Flash foreword a year, and our lives would have a great hole in it without this little one. She loves to laugh and her favorite things ever are her older sister and brother. She marches right along with them. She's been walking now for a few months and practically runs from room to room with the clan getting into all kinds of fun stuff. She's our "sweet pea" and loves to snuggle. It amazes me how she filled a hole in our family we never new we had.
Life can get crazy around here. There are days when all the tantrums, teething, and poop make me go batty. Or nights with fevers, bad dreams, and teething that make those nights of feeding a newborn every three hours look heavenly. But the good far out-ways the bad, and I can't imagine life without the little monkey around. Happy Birthday Sweet Pea!
I know you think this sounds a little dramatic, but let me tell you when your kids are not even 2 1/2 and 5 months old when you find out number 3 is coming along, you begin to severely doubt your ability to meet everyone's physical needs more or less nurture their souls like a good mother should. So, yes, there are some high fives around here!
For a good portion of my third pregnancy I did what any mother of two other young children would do: I pretended it wasn't happening. I focused on the two I had in front of me and tried not to think about how crazy life with one more would be. God knew what he was doing when he made gestation 40 weeks. It's funny how with my first it felt like it would take forever before I was holding that baby, and by number three I was begging for a few more weeks. Even though my back hurt, I peed every 15 minutes, and I could breath while laying down, I knew the easiest part of parenting was while they're in the womb.
Three months before my due date we moved to North Carolina. New state. New people. New doctor. New hospital. Husband has a new job. No family. I had my reservations about this new life, but followed my new found mantra of "Just keep living." It works well. My new doctor agreed that number 3 should be induced just like number 2 to prevent what happened with number 1. One great thing about this plan was that my mom was able to plan a trip to be here with plenty of time before the arrival. (Hallelujah!)
Mom here? Check. Baby girl newborn clothes pulled out of storage? Check. Bassinet ready? Check. Bags packed? Check. Camera charged? Check. Let's have a baby!
We showed up at the hospital at the crack of dawn like instructed to find out that they had no room for me. My amazingly awesome nurse brought me into a triage room to "start things". Now, I call her amazingly awesome because when I informed her this baby would show up very soon after my water broke, she listened to me. She decided she didn't want to personally deliver the baby in the dinky triage room so we waited until a room was ready, then my doctor came in and broke my water. So, what does a woman who's had one baby with an epidural and one all natural do with the third birth? Everyone has their own options and beliefs about this, but I am proud to say that I had 5 bad contractions before the epidural kicked in. As they say "Fool me once..." I felt no need to knock on deaths door like I had previously experienced. Been there. Done that.
Turns out I was right. The little squirt made her appearance within an hour of my water braking. One push and there she was! We're not exactly sure how much she weighed. The scale was doing weird things at the time of her birth and somehow she magically gained a whole pound in 2 hrs, so we're guessing she was around 7 lbs. Right in between her brother and her sisters size.
A few hours later the bed was full of my whole family. All 5 of us. A crazy moment for me to look from OUR 3 year old, OUR 1 year old, and OUR newborn. I remember thinking, I sure hope this works! Flash foreword a year, and our lives would have a great hole in it without this little one. She loves to laugh and her favorite things ever are her older sister and brother. She marches right along with them. She's been walking now for a few months and practically runs from room to room with the clan getting into all kinds of fun stuff. She's our "sweet pea" and loves to snuggle. It amazes me how she filled a hole in our family we never new we had.
Life can get crazy around here. There are days when all the tantrums, teething, and poop make me go batty. Or nights with fevers, bad dreams, and teething that make those nights of feeding a newborn every three hours look heavenly. But the good far out-ways the bad, and I can't imagine life without the little monkey around. Happy Birthday Sweet Pea!
Saturday, September 29, 2012
"Mommy Brain"
Something is very wrong! "Mommy brain" doesn't even seem to cover how absent my mind has been lately. Sometimes I feel like I'm wondering around the house aimlessly running from child to child meeting need after need with no other purpose, goal, or plan to strive for. I walk into a room and grab a diaper but no wipes, I'll pick up one shoe but leave the matching one behind, I'll be laying in bed and realize my phone and the baby monitor are still downstairs.....Yes, these are just little things, but they're really starting to mess with my head.
I don't care what science says, I'm convinced a child in the womb feeds off brain cells. Then whatever you have left you push out with the baby and you never quite get them back! I had 3 children in 3 years....it's not looking good for me!
Not to long ago, our church had a marriage retreat night. They catered in a meal and provided childcare (woot! woot!...we don't get out much!) then had a speaker. Forgive me, I don't remember the speakers name. This goes right along with my topic about my brain working at slower speeds and comprehending less than it used to. This man was a professor at a nearby college and had studied the brain for years. He proceeded to tell us all about our brains and how men and women's brains work differently. As he's babbling on about the hypothalamus or something it hits me that this is way over my head. I wasn't absorbing 40% of what he was saying. My mind kept wondering to all kinds of insignificant places like the lady's hair in front of me, and if I listened really hard, I think I can hear my baby crying from downstairs. What has happened to me? Over my head?....wait no it's not! I graduated from nursing school. Not too many years ago not only did I sit through microbiology, pharmacology, chemistry, and anatomy and physiology, but I passed them at that! Had motherhood really dumbed my brain down that much?
The whole irony of my even thinking this, is that one of the speakers big points was that our brains actually stores everything we've ever seen, heard, or read. We just don't tap into all those parts regularly. (Yes, I paid attention a little bit!) So, no. I've not gotten more dumb....I just don't use those intellectual parts of my brain anymore. I sing the abc's and say things like "let's go potty" and "be gentle with your sister" like 100,00 times a day.
Sometimes it's easy for me to get down on myself and think, "Good gracious, Maggie you used to literally be helping save people's lives." or "I've got ideas. Good ideas too. Maybe I should be doing something more with them." Then I'll turn around to hear all three of my kids laughing together or watch one of them share without being told and I know I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
I'm supposed to be loosing my mind in this house with these kids. This is my job. It's more important and bigger than anything else right now. And, at the end of the night when I check on three peaceful precious little faces I know without a doubt I'd willingly give up every last brain cell for them.
I don't care what science says, I'm convinced a child in the womb feeds off brain cells. Then whatever you have left you push out with the baby and you never quite get them back! I had 3 children in 3 years....it's not looking good for me!
Not to long ago, our church had a marriage retreat night. They catered in a meal and provided childcare (woot! woot!...we don't get out much!) then had a speaker. Forgive me, I don't remember the speakers name. This goes right along with my topic about my brain working at slower speeds and comprehending less than it used to. This man was a professor at a nearby college and had studied the brain for years. He proceeded to tell us all about our brains and how men and women's brains work differently. As he's babbling on about the hypothalamus or something it hits me that this is way over my head. I wasn't absorbing 40% of what he was saying. My mind kept wondering to all kinds of insignificant places like the lady's hair in front of me, and if I listened really hard, I think I can hear my baby crying from downstairs. What has happened to me? Over my head?....wait no it's not! I graduated from nursing school. Not too many years ago not only did I sit through microbiology, pharmacology, chemistry, and anatomy and physiology, but I passed them at that! Had motherhood really dumbed my brain down that much?
The whole irony of my even thinking this, is that one of the speakers big points was that our brains actually stores everything we've ever seen, heard, or read. We just don't tap into all those parts regularly. (Yes, I paid attention a little bit!) So, no. I've not gotten more dumb....I just don't use those intellectual parts of my brain anymore. I sing the abc's and say things like "let's go potty" and "be gentle with your sister" like 100,00 times a day.
Sometimes it's easy for me to get down on myself and think, "Good gracious, Maggie you used to literally be helping save people's lives." or "I've got ideas. Good ideas too. Maybe I should be doing something more with them." Then I'll turn around to hear all three of my kids laughing together or watch one of them share without being told and I know I'm right where I'm supposed to be.
I'm supposed to be loosing my mind in this house with these kids. This is my job. It's more important and bigger than anything else right now. And, at the end of the night when I check on three peaceful precious little faces I know without a doubt I'd willingly give up every last brain cell for them.
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Parenting.....The Hardest Race Ever!
My family loves sports. We watched every bit of the Olympics that we could. Not only do we enjoy it for entertainment, but we believe sports can teach you so much about yourself and life. Even with our kids being little we try to utilize sports viewing as a parenting tool. Endurance, perseverance, teamwork, sportsmanship, victory, and defeat are a few things we talk about. I especially love the analogies that can be drawn between sports and life. Today, my husband ran his first triathlon. As I watched each contestant push forward it came to mind how strikingly similar a triathlon is to the race of parenting.
When you wake up the morning of the race you feel excited and confident in all your preparations. You're ready to be a parent and quite excited about it too. All the books that have been read and the classes completed have prepared you for the moment when that horn sounds and you'll be off on this journey or race of parenthood. But have you done enough? A tri is started with a swim. As you wade into the water you begin to get nervous and even doubt the decision to participate at all. However, the deed has been done and there's no turning back. : ) The horn sounds, and your off. Somehow, no one seemed to warn you about this part. Your getting kicked in face and pulled under water by everyone else around you. You just started and yet feel like quitting already. As everyone fans out and gets in their own grove, it gets a little easier. But, swimming is a every muscle in your body activity. Inevitably you begin to tire. The freestyle that seemed so promising at the beginning has turned into a breast stroke then a doggie paddle or at times just treading water. I'm convinced having little kids is like the swim. It's the loneliest of the events. No one is right there cheering you on. You get little love from the people doing it along side of you. Everyone is very focused on themselves and keeping their own head above water. It's also the only event where re-fueling isn't an option. There's no water bottle to grab or emergency energy gel pack to pop.....you find yourself only relying on the preparations you made ahead of time. Somehow, you've made progress because you pass a mile marker, but there's still a long way to go. Sometimes the kids help you along and the swim doesn't seem so bad, and other times it's like they personally tied weights around your ankles! There it is! You can see the shore. You think you're close enough to touch the sand, but put your feet down just to be pulled back under. Go a little farther! You almost have this! Soon your feet hit bottom. You're able to come up and take a nice deep breath. It feels so good. Done? Not even close, but that part is over!
You take off running for your bike. Shed the swim cap and goggles....you have new equipment needed for this new phase. Quickly put on your shoes and make preparations for a new set of challenges and experiences. Your kids are growing up now. A little more independent, but still very much in need of you just in different ways. There are some hard hills up ahead but you hear cheers from the sidelines, and it pushes you forward even when your body aches. The hill is over and down the other side is something wonderful. You get to sit back and enjoy. Keep peddling, but less force is needed. Things are going well. Still participating in the race, but not having to work so hard. Just when you think all is well, someone comes whizzing past you! Grab a swig of water and head on after them. You can't sit back and rest for too long. And, sure enough as you round the corner you can see the bike racks. While you're glad things are moving forward, it's hard not to hesitate. The bike has been working and feels good. If I get off, my legs might feel like noodles. What if they don't hold. me? It doesn't matter.....the end is here.
College really? Has time really gone by that fast. It seems like yesterday you were fighting for breath during the swim. Somewhat reluctantly you hang your bike up. Put on a new pair of shoes better fit for running, strap your number on your back and off you go, on a new journey. This journey seems so different, but also a little bit fun. You can say a few words to other runners and sneak in a wave at spectators. Time moves with a little less urgency now. As you round some of the last corners you know what's ahead. The finish line is the end of the race but the beginning of a celebration! Heaven will be sweet. You begin to reflect on all you've done. Hopefully satisfied, you cross the finish line with your arms held up high! Probably not the winner, but as a finisher feeling just as accomplished.
Now you can stop! What a feeling! This is true rest! Grab some water and let your heart rate slow down a little, because there's something big going on and you don't want to miss any of it!
When you wake up the morning of the race you feel excited and confident in all your preparations. You're ready to be a parent and quite excited about it too. All the books that have been read and the classes completed have prepared you for the moment when that horn sounds and you'll be off on this journey or race of parenthood. But have you done enough? A tri is started with a swim. As you wade into the water you begin to get nervous and even doubt the decision to participate at all. However, the deed has been done and there's no turning back. : ) The horn sounds, and your off. Somehow, no one seemed to warn you about this part. Your getting kicked in face and pulled under water by everyone else around you. You just started and yet feel like quitting already. As everyone fans out and gets in their own grove, it gets a little easier. But, swimming is a every muscle in your body activity. Inevitably you begin to tire. The freestyle that seemed so promising at the beginning has turned into a breast stroke then a doggie paddle or at times just treading water. I'm convinced having little kids is like the swim. It's the loneliest of the events. No one is right there cheering you on. You get little love from the people doing it along side of you. Everyone is very focused on themselves and keeping their own head above water. It's also the only event where re-fueling isn't an option. There's no water bottle to grab or emergency energy gel pack to pop.....you find yourself only relying on the preparations you made ahead of time. Somehow, you've made progress because you pass a mile marker, but there's still a long way to go. Sometimes the kids help you along and the swim doesn't seem so bad, and other times it's like they personally tied weights around your ankles! There it is! You can see the shore. You think you're close enough to touch the sand, but put your feet down just to be pulled back under. Go a little farther! You almost have this! Soon your feet hit bottom. You're able to come up and take a nice deep breath. It feels so good. Done? Not even close, but that part is over!
You take off running for your bike. Shed the swim cap and goggles....you have new equipment needed for this new phase. Quickly put on your shoes and make preparations for a new set of challenges and experiences. Your kids are growing up now. A little more independent, but still very much in need of you just in different ways. There are some hard hills up ahead but you hear cheers from the sidelines, and it pushes you forward even when your body aches. The hill is over and down the other side is something wonderful. You get to sit back and enjoy. Keep peddling, but less force is needed. Things are going well. Still participating in the race, but not having to work so hard. Just when you think all is well, someone comes whizzing past you! Grab a swig of water and head on after them. You can't sit back and rest for too long. And, sure enough as you round the corner you can see the bike racks. While you're glad things are moving forward, it's hard not to hesitate. The bike has been working and feels good. If I get off, my legs might feel like noodles. What if they don't hold. me? It doesn't matter.....the end is here.
College really? Has time really gone by that fast. It seems like yesterday you were fighting for breath during the swim. Somewhat reluctantly you hang your bike up. Put on a new pair of shoes better fit for running, strap your number on your back and off you go, on a new journey. This journey seems so different, but also a little bit fun. You can say a few words to other runners and sneak in a wave at spectators. Time moves with a little less urgency now. As you round some of the last corners you know what's ahead. The finish line is the end of the race but the beginning of a celebration! Heaven will be sweet. You begin to reflect on all you've done. Hopefully satisfied, you cross the finish line with your arms held up high! Probably not the winner, but as a finisher feeling just as accomplished.
Now you can stop! What a feeling! This is true rest! Grab some water and let your heart rate slow down a little, because there's something big going on and you don't want to miss any of it!
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Who's Your Hero?
Recently a certain celebrity couple divorced and it's still making headlines. We live in a world where for whatever reason we find it fascinating to read about what kind of shampoo a movie star uses, so it's not surprising that their mangled shredded marriage is entertaining. I'm not going to actually call out any names. I'm sure they're both really nice people who love their daughter very much. I don't know them personally, and wont make any judgement calls like I do; however I am increasingly troubled that this women is being crowned a hero in the public's eyes. REALLY? A hero?
Huge reality check for me. We look at this women who "took down" one of the most well-known, wealthy movie stars there is. She blind-sighted him with a divorce, and somehow took primary custody of their kid with very little drama. She must have it all together right? Guess what? Being a feminists hero doesn't keep you warm at night. It doesn't hold your hand through mall or give you a hug after a bad day. Do you think she feels like a hero?....(I don't know maybe she does.) But chances are she's lonely. Chances are there's a huge gaping hole in her life. Chances are, there's a little girl who will grow up in a broken home. Who knows how that might affect her in the future. A Hero? Not mine.
Our culture is teaching us that the pursuit of happiness is ones goal in life. If your not happy anymore why stay married to someone right? That's a legit reason right? After all, I'm supposed to be happy in life. I have news for you: If Jesus pursued his own personal happiness do you think he would have died on the cross for you? Do you think in the moments leading up to his last breath his happiness kept him there? No, His love did. His love for us is so strong, deep, and untainted that he stayed. We've been called to be like Him.
When the seasons come (and have come) when my marriage feels like its surviving instead of thriving, I don't want a hero that has out-played and out-witted her husband into giving up. I want a hero that chose to overcome the lack of happiness in the moment for the greater good. To choose to love someone else instead of myself.
We are about to celebrate 8 years of marriage. This by no means makes me any kind of expert, but I'm also not brand new at it. We've lived in three different states and have three children. A lot of life has taken place and it's not always magazine cover good (like mostly never), but that's okay. I'm one imperfect person married to another one. Then we decided to take our imperfectness and create other little raw imperfect people. Our house is full of all kinds of hurt and joy, but we are all experiencing it together.
As my parents celebrate 30 years of marriage this year (we have the same anniversary). It makes me think about what kind of marriage do I want my children to see? What kind of marriage do I want them to have? Of course I want them to be happy, but my prayer is that they will pursue holiness first.
In this country we may have the right to the pursuit of happiness, but that doesn't always mean we should take it.
Huge reality check for me. We look at this women who "took down" one of the most well-known, wealthy movie stars there is. She blind-sighted him with a divorce, and somehow took primary custody of their kid with very little drama. She must have it all together right? Guess what? Being a feminists hero doesn't keep you warm at night. It doesn't hold your hand through mall or give you a hug after a bad day. Do you think she feels like a hero?....(I don't know maybe she does.) But chances are she's lonely. Chances are there's a huge gaping hole in her life. Chances are, there's a little girl who will grow up in a broken home. Who knows how that might affect her in the future. A Hero? Not mine.
Our culture is teaching us that the pursuit of happiness is ones goal in life. If your not happy anymore why stay married to someone right? That's a legit reason right? After all, I'm supposed to be happy in life. I have news for you: If Jesus pursued his own personal happiness do you think he would have died on the cross for you? Do you think in the moments leading up to his last breath his happiness kept him there? No, His love did. His love for us is so strong, deep, and untainted that he stayed. We've been called to be like Him.
When the seasons come (and have come) when my marriage feels like its surviving instead of thriving, I don't want a hero that has out-played and out-witted her husband into giving up. I want a hero that chose to overcome the lack of happiness in the moment for the greater good. To choose to love someone else instead of myself.
We are about to celebrate 8 years of marriage. This by no means makes me any kind of expert, but I'm also not brand new at it. We've lived in three different states and have three children. A lot of life has taken place and it's not always magazine cover good (like mostly never), but that's okay. I'm one imperfect person married to another one. Then we decided to take our imperfectness and create other little raw imperfect people. Our house is full of all kinds of hurt and joy, but we are all experiencing it together.
As my parents celebrate 30 years of marriage this year (we have the same anniversary). It makes me think about what kind of marriage do I want my children to see? What kind of marriage do I want them to have? Of course I want them to be happy, but my prayer is that they will pursue holiness first.
In this country we may have the right to the pursuit of happiness, but that doesn't always mean we should take it.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Another Birthday....Another Birth Story
My son turns 2 today. I only found it fitting to share his birth story as well (you can read about my daughter's here: http://3kidsnohairandfullheart.blogspot.com/2012/06/today-i-have-four-year-old.html). At least now I will have it written down somewhere....as you can imagine, I'm not the best with "baby books". Also, his was by far the most traumatic emotionally scaring delivery that still sends shivers up and down my spine every time I think about it.
Due to the fact that my daughter's shoulders got stuck and she was only 7lbs 10oz, my doctor and I decided it would be best to make sure this baby didn't get any bigger than that. I was to be induced 4 days before my due date with the hope that the baby would be small enough to slip out (Okay, that was my hope and not necessarily my doctors!) By the way, I'm assuming by this point I have scared away all male readers from this blog. If you are a guy and are still reading: Bless you!! Anyway, since I'm not one of those lucky people that have a perfectly healthy baby come naturally two weeks early, we went through with the induction. We had to wait an hour in the waiting room and I just so happened to be sitting next to a lady awaiting the arrival of her grandson. She then proceeded to tell me that her daughter had been in labor for the last day and half! I so badly wanted to say, "HELLO? Are you crazy lady? Do you not see that I'm getting ready to this too?" Needless to say, I was mildly freaking out by now. I was not in good shape after the delivery of my first and very much wanted to be done with this part.
We finally got a room, and they started everything right away. My doctor showed up and broke my water before I even had an IV. Even though joked with my doctor about wanting a baby by noon, I was expecting this take a while and the process to be slow. I also, knew this baby had been knocking on the front door for a while now and I could be surprised. The contractions quickly got more intense. Every time my nurse came into the room she suggested a different position or walking or rocking in the chair. Somehow, I made it along until the next time she would come in and I did something else. In between contractions I felt pretty good. Then it happened....I felt pressure. I was smart enough to know that the epidural probably wasn't an option at this point. My nurse helped me back into the bed and that was the beginning of the worst 45 minutes of my life! (Yes, I am being a bit dramatic, but if you did it you would be too!) I didn't open my eyes the whole time. Despite my husband vigorously rubbing my arms, both of them had gone completely numb. I couldn't move my arms or fingers. This is when I realized that my body was shutting down from the pain.....I was sure I was going to die. (Again dramatic but true.) I had to push and my doctor wasn't there yet. Thankfully this hospital has it's own midwife, and she had found her way to my room. She was ready to deliver the baby if needed. Two seconds later my doctor rushed into the room just in time for one push and baby was out! At 2:42 I delivered a 6lbs 9oz baby boy with no complications. (Aside from the near death experience.) The midwife was shaking me and telling me to open my eyes and it was all over. My husband immediately announced that was the most awesome experience ever, and got one dirty look from me. As close as I had been to death, just like that I was back. After a few seconds I stopped thinking about me an realized I hadn't heard the baby cry at all. I asked if he was okay and a nurse looked over her shoulder and informed me he was fine, but he was the most stunned baby she had every seen.
Still "stunned" my son cried for the first 3 hours of his life straight. I was starting to get a little worried that this could be some glimpse into his personality, but the nurse assured me that this is one of the things you see with a "non-drugged" baby. Sure enough he managed to settle down enough to meet his big sister later and my mom. He was such a cute little baby. I don't know if I've ever seen a baby look so much like a man before! He had skin all wrinkled up that needed to be grown into, and a little receding hairline on the sides.
He's not a baby anymore! It's sad and exciting to think about how much he's changed in just one year, and how much he will change in the next year to come. He's added so much life to our home.
He has two speeds: Running and Sleeping.
He loves anything that has to do with sports and teasing his older sister by taking her things.
He is extremely curious as to how things work and is always trying to figure it out.
He's not much of a talker, but communicates all the important stuff.
He loves being a big brother too. I can see him and my youngest being really close when they get older.
He loves his daddy and pretends to do everything just like him.
He's our early riser and good eater.
In our house he's known as "Big Man" and we're so glad God added him to our family.
I can't wait to see all the trouble he's going to get into in the future. (I can see many stitches and a few broken bones in store for us.)
Being a mother to two was soooo different, but in a good way. I remember feeling like it wasn't easier but it felt more natural. A kid for every parent. A child on each knee. It fit well. Then a mere 5 months later we found out it was all going to change.........again.........
Due to the fact that my daughter's shoulders got stuck and she was only 7lbs 10oz, my doctor and I decided it would be best to make sure this baby didn't get any bigger than that. I was to be induced 4 days before my due date with the hope that the baby would be small enough to slip out (Okay, that was my hope and not necessarily my doctors!) By the way, I'm assuming by this point I have scared away all male readers from this blog. If you are a guy and are still reading: Bless you!! Anyway, since I'm not one of those lucky people that have a perfectly healthy baby come naturally two weeks early, we went through with the induction. We had to wait an hour in the waiting room and I just so happened to be sitting next to a lady awaiting the arrival of her grandson. She then proceeded to tell me that her daughter had been in labor for the last day and half! I so badly wanted to say, "HELLO? Are you crazy lady? Do you not see that I'm getting ready to this too?" Needless to say, I was mildly freaking out by now. I was not in good shape after the delivery of my first and very much wanted to be done with this part.
We finally got a room, and they started everything right away. My doctor showed up and broke my water before I even had an IV. Even though joked with my doctor about wanting a baby by noon, I was expecting this take a while and the process to be slow. I also, knew this baby had been knocking on the front door for a while now and I could be surprised. The contractions quickly got more intense. Every time my nurse came into the room she suggested a different position or walking or rocking in the chair. Somehow, I made it along until the next time she would come in and I did something else. In between contractions I felt pretty good. Then it happened....I felt pressure. I was smart enough to know that the epidural probably wasn't an option at this point. My nurse helped me back into the bed and that was the beginning of the worst 45 minutes of my life! (Yes, I am being a bit dramatic, but if you did it you would be too!) I didn't open my eyes the whole time. Despite my husband vigorously rubbing my arms, both of them had gone completely numb. I couldn't move my arms or fingers. This is when I realized that my body was shutting down from the pain.....I was sure I was going to die. (Again dramatic but true.) I had to push and my doctor wasn't there yet. Thankfully this hospital has it's own midwife, and she had found her way to my room. She was ready to deliver the baby if needed. Two seconds later my doctor rushed into the room just in time for one push and baby was out! At 2:42 I delivered a 6lbs 9oz baby boy with no complications. (Aside from the near death experience.) The midwife was shaking me and telling me to open my eyes and it was all over. My husband immediately announced that was the most awesome experience ever, and got one dirty look from me. As close as I had been to death, just like that I was back. After a few seconds I stopped thinking about me an realized I hadn't heard the baby cry at all. I asked if he was okay and a nurse looked over her shoulder and informed me he was fine, but he was the most stunned baby she had every seen.
Still "stunned" my son cried for the first 3 hours of his life straight. I was starting to get a little worried that this could be some glimpse into his personality, but the nurse assured me that this is one of the things you see with a "non-drugged" baby. Sure enough he managed to settle down enough to meet his big sister later and my mom. He was such a cute little baby. I don't know if I've ever seen a baby look so much like a man before! He had skin all wrinkled up that needed to be grown into, and a little receding hairline on the sides.
He's not a baby anymore! It's sad and exciting to think about how much he's changed in just one year, and how much he will change in the next year to come. He's added so much life to our home.
He has two speeds: Running and Sleeping.
He loves anything that has to do with sports and teasing his older sister by taking her things.
He is extremely curious as to how things work and is always trying to figure it out.
He's not much of a talker, but communicates all the important stuff.
He loves being a big brother too. I can see him and my youngest being really close when they get older.
He loves his daddy and pretends to do everything just like him.
He's our early riser and good eater.
In our house he's known as "Big Man" and we're so glad God added him to our family.
I can't wait to see all the trouble he's going to get into in the future. (I can see many stitches and a few broken bones in store for us.)
Being a mother to two was soooo different, but in a good way. I remember feeling like it wasn't easier but it felt more natural. A kid for every parent. A child on each knee. It fit well. Then a mere 5 months later we found out it was all going to change.........again.........
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