Category Archives: faith

faith, home, mommyhood, women

Wifely Bragging Rights

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A friend of mine posted in a Facebook group recently that she had heard too much recently about wives/moms/girlfriends doing some man-bashing. She suggested that women collectively take a few minutes to brag on their fellas. Naturally, being married to the best fella in the world, I figured I’d jump on in there!

This one is from the St. Patrick's party last weekend!
This one is from the St. Patrick’s party last weekend!

Y’all, my Hubby is a rockstar. I mean that literally and figuratively. He literally is the front man (a sexy one) in a band that plays and writes awesome music all the time. That makes him a rockstar. He’s also the most loving, patient, and hilarious husband and father I could ask to have a family with. He’s encouraging, challenging (in a good way), exciting, caring, and a hundred other things I would never have time to list, much less explain. In short, love of my life. Big time.

Photo Cred. to my incredible wedding photographer, Eleise Theuer. She is the bomb, y'all.
Photo Cred. to my incredible wedding photographer, Eleise Theuer. She is the bomb, y’all.

One of my favorite things about him is that he is fun. He can take a boring situation and make it awesome. He can cheer up a hormonal pregnant woman, a tired toddler, or a cranky baby. He can make you laugh while you’re crying. He can make you forget all your troubles, at least for a minute. He’s the best.

Hubby's brother snapped this one when we were in the reception band at his cousin's wedding last summer!
Hubby’s brother snapped this one when we were in the reception band at his cousin’s wedding last summer!

I often find myself watching something (like the Bachelor) or talking to a single girlfriend about a terrible date, and thinking “I’m so glad I’m married.” I mean that on the surface level, in an I-will-never-have-to-go-on-a-first-date way, and also a deeper way – I know I’m married to the best man in the world, and I’d never choose another path. I keep hearing Taylor Swift’s lyrics in Blank Space, “Boys only want love if its torture…” and thinking of all the women I know that have found that to be true. Then I think about how I will never again experience torture, or even unhappiness in my love life.

Also, he is the most incredible, totally competent, loving, nurturing dad I’ve ever seen. He kept EK and then J as well for two years while I taught full time. I never worried for one minute that they’d be anything but perfectly cared for. He is an amazing cook, and is always able to please the picky eaters – and his wife! He is an awesome photographer, and getting better every day. Here’s a sample of his magic:

EK in my mother-in-law's magical backyard.
EK in my mother-in-law’s magical backyard.

I’d never be able to say everything I want to and could possibly brag on him about, so I suppose I’ll spare you a full-on rant. But he truly is the most wonderful Hubby ever. I love him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. I love him on his good days and his bad (though there aren’t many of those). I’m the most blessed woman on the planet. Really. I love you, babe.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, pregnancy, siblings

I am exhausted.

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This post appeared on the My Big Jesus blog!  We spent today bopping around town, carrying kids to and fro, shopping for this and getting ready for that. Our house is a madhouse, like it often is these days. I don’t mind – really, I don’t. I know that it’s a season, and that things will return to a semi-normal. I know that my kids will be these ages but once. I know that my niece and nephew (who I also got to see this evening!) will be these ages but once.

Yet, my lovely and insightful mother-in-law said something to me, in passing really, tonight that made me think. She had spent the morning with my son, and part of the afternoon with my daughter. She said, “I don’t know how y’all do it with these two. I guess I did it with mine, but I’m exhausted!” Going on, she explained that she meant chasing them around her house, entertaining them, and making sure nothing got broken.

Well let me tell you, I understood her completely. While my house is basically baby-proofed and I can let them run free a little more in our home than she can in hers (split-level=stairs upon stairs) I am still frequently exhausted at the end of the day. Even if I haven’t completed a single housekeeping task, or didn’t get in a work out, or haven’t left the house, or if I did catch a little snooze during someone’s naptime, I’m often exhausted.

It isn’t simply that my back hurts, or that I’m sleep deprived, although sometimes those things are true. (Have you lugged around a 30lb sack of flour recently?) It’s emotional exhaustion. It’s mental exhaustion. I’m not a creative person, so EK really makes me work my imagination (ie: silly voices, strange scenarios, and telling her “stories” that I made up). I’m constantly trying to think of ways to educate – nay, entertain – two developmental levels, two totally different personalities. I’m trying to explain to my daughter why she should share, can’t push her brother, and shouldn’t scream in the house. I’m trying to distract my son when he just wants to be held – for the entire 12 hours he is awake. I’m trying to make healthy breakfasts and dinners that also look enticing and taste delicious. I’m trying to not lose patience with messes and attitudes and too-short naps and refused meals. It’s a lot. It’s trying, giving, sacrificing, and pushing myself.

So yes, in a word, I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted when I think of how much love I’ve got in my heart for these little beings that need me so. I’m exhausted when I think that by the end of this summer, I’ll have a third little being that needs me like these two do. I’m exhausted when I think that in 18 years, they’ll need me so much less. I’m exhausted to think they won’t always snuggle into my neck or say “mmmmmm-ah!” when I ask for a kiss. But being exhausted in the midst of right now is a fulfilled, happy exhaustion. When I slip into my bed, and don’t have time to finish one sentence in my book, I’m not really upset about it. I’m just wishing I had more patience, more creativity, more knowledge to share with those exciting, excitable toddlers that I call my own.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, siblings

He’s gonna be a sockah playah!

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This post also appeared on MyBigJesus.com

My eldest child is a daughter. My daughter is not an athlete. I don’t consider this to be a reflection on her gender. I don’t consider this to be a reflection on her girlhood. I consider it to be a bit of laziness and a bit of clumsiness, combined with the fact that mom and dad and grandma and grandpa and everyone in her life have always done what she needed. She loves to dance and loves to run, but she is not very graceful. It’s endearing, truly.

My son however it is already running as soon as he learned to walk. He is climbing. He is jumping and shouting and being fast and crazy. The desire to be faster and stronger is so much more with the second child. I don’t think their differences are boy versus girl. I think their differences have more to do with the fact that my son has always wanted to catch up to my daughter. Maybe it’s just a second child thing.

Those things being said, I will fully support the habits, desires and interests of my kids. If EK wants to try out for every sports team her entire life, I’ll support it. If J never wants to do anything athletic in his life, I’ll support it. I want them to be well-rounded, but also happy. I’d love them to be musical and athletic and theatrical and academic and social and everything all at once… wouldn’t everyone like their kids to have talent out the wazoo and be gifted in anything they tried? But that just isn’t the most practical thing to expect of your child.

I know my kids aren’t old enough to have really shown us what their talents or interests are yet, but I’m preparing for it. I know it’s coming. And when it comes, we’ve got ten years at least of it being a huge part of our lives. I don’t want to be a mom who forces her kids into things they don’t care about, or makes them stick with what they started for several more years, even if they hate it. That being said, we won’t decide that our first piano lesson wasn’t what we thought and we can just quit. We also, won’t try one new thing every single year till high school graduation. That just gets too crazy. We will strive for a good balance, no over commitment, and the most fun and learning. Those are the priorities.

Now remind me of that in 5 years or so, okay?

faith, home, mommyhood, music

Currently 

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Welcome to this week’s Currently! As usual, I’m linking up with Becky at Choose Happy and other wonderful bloggers as we share what’s going on in our lives currently. Join us! We love making new connections!

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Thankful for || lots of friends who let me do laundry at their place. The count of borrowed laundry rooms is up to five. It doesn’t sound like that many, but it feels like a lot. Thankful to have five places we can run to!

Loving || game nights with friends! Hubby and I have a few couples that like to play games with us on occasion, and they are some of our favorite nights! After our kiddos go to sleep, we play Taboo, Catchphrase, Buzzword, Heads Up, or spades (if there are exactly four of us). Looking at that list, it seems we like word games. Ha!

heads up

Excited about || leading worship at two services this week that are a little out-of-the-box for me. One is tonight (I’ve never even attended this one before!) and one is Wednesday. I’m excited to be worshiping with some different people in some other venues!

Listening to || 1989. I’m just now (kinda embarrassingly) jumping on the Taylor Swift bandwagon. I didn’t like her as a country artist, and I don’t like much current pop music, so I just sort of assumed that I wouldn’t like her any more as a pop artist. HOWEVER I do really like her new album. Must be her take-no-shit attitude and I-am-who-I-am sentiment in her music. Cue sheepish grin.

1989

Counting down || the 24 days (exactly) that I have till Hubby and I have iPhone upgrades. We got our 5s right when they came out two years ago, and we have loved them well. Mine spends most of its time in a Lifeproof case, because I’m clumsy and I have kids, but it still has a giant crack (read: shattered screen) and Hubby’s does too (read: one crack). The memory is full, upgrades take forever, and they’re just plain running slowly. I cannot WAIT to get a new-fangled, enormous iPhone 6.

iphone meme

Thanks for checking out my happenings currently! What are you up to?

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, pregnancy, siblings

Once… Twice… Three Times with Baby

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I like to think that by blogging, I’m able to impart a little motherly wisdom, provide a little entertainment, and encourage some weary women out there with a little good news. I think this post does all three of those things pretty well… So here’s a post about pregnancies – and how they’re all different.

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When you’re pregnant with your first baby, no matter how you feel, you probably have the opportunity to rest a lot. With your first, you can lounge around in your free time, sleep a lot, rest, and exploit your spouse to please cook the thing you’re craving and take out the trash because your pregnant nose is in overdrive and you can’t stand the smell. You always know what week you’re on (16 weeks, 2 days, 3 hours and 15 minutes) and you have the due date marked in all your friends’ and family members’ calendars. You have a perfect nursery, complete with outfits for every type of weather and every size up to 3T. You’ve looked at day cares and preschools, read parenting books and blogs, and chosen the perfect name for a successful human. You are way ahead of the game, due purely to excitement.

When you’re pregnant with your second baby, there is no resting unless your kid is resting (so basically none). There is no requesting special meals, because the meals revolve around the current kid, not you. If he takes out the trash, you’re probably doing the dishes or changing a diaper, anyway. You try to eat as healthily as possible (fruit, non-sugary cereal, etc) since you’re trying to feed your kid pretty healthy, too. You keep on doing your thing as much as possible, sneaking naps if you can, and going to bed a little earlier, if your spouse is helping with laundry.

With your third, all bets are pretty much off. You’re going and bopping and feeding and playing and cleaning and laundering and driving to and from and yonder. You’re eating a lot of mac and cheese, because that’s what’s easy to satisfy everyone’s palates. You’re already swimming in diapers and wipes, so no need to buy a bunch of those in preparation. You’ve got every type of hand-me-downs, so the kid is set on clothes. You feel like you want to buy the third kid something new, but you just don’t need anything and you don’t have extra cash really to throw at unnecessary baby items. You also better have your maternity clothes unpacked at 8 weeks, because you’ll need them.

But you know what will be the same every time?  You’ll still smile when you feel the baby move in your womb. You will be excited to pick the name, however far along you are. You will know love that you didn’t know you had room for in your heart. You will begin praying for that little being and the rest of his or her life.

faith, random thoughts, women

Wonderful Women

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Last night, I attended a “women’s supper club” for a group of women from my church. It was FANTASTIC. There was sharing, laughing, crying, hugging, praying, talking, teaching, and loving each other. I met new women, reconnected with some I hadn’t seen recently, and chuckled and snuggled with women I know well. It was a much-needed night of frivolity and fellowship and faith-building. I realized this: I have lots of wonderful women in my life, and I love finding more. You can never have too many women who are peers, women who are mentors, women who are mentees, women who have walked through your trenches, and women who are in them right beside you.

Women were created for relationship. It’s in our nature. God created Adam, and then created him a companion in Eve. I think that we were created for communication, fellowship, compassion, and love. This isn’t just limited to a romantic relationship, or familial relationship. This very nature of women spreads to all relationships – friends, acquaintances, strangers, all.

I’ve had several blog friends recently start up ways for women to connect with and find friends online (in a non-creepy or stalkerish way haha). Women can be lonely without a group, without a tribe. I am lucky in that I have a tribe built in where I live, but I still want to grow it! I want to help women connect with each other, build meaningful relationships, and make lasting impressions on each other. I know how important those types of relationships have been in my life, and how much they still will be for the rest of it.

I’m not sure the way I want to go about this yet. I want to help y’all out, help you get to know each other, help you find gals in your area who are like-minded and need a group of friends as well. I want to make it authentic and not forced. I want to make it realistic and long-lasting. So it’s a tall order, but it’s on my heart. And I’m going to be praying about it. It already makes me excited!

Please comment if you have ideas, ways to connect that are already in place, or anything else you think might be helpful in the process. If you’re a praying person, I invite you to join me in prayer in the first steps of the process, and for the hearts of the women that might get involved!

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

That Moment When…

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That moment when you look at your kids, and they’re playing nicely together.
That moment when their plates are empty, and haven’t been flung to the floor yet.
When they say please and thank you.
When they ask for an extra hug and kiss.
When they blow your mind with their brilliance, their intuitiveness, and their stinkin’ cute curls.

But also, that moment when she pushes him down.
That moment when all the stuffed animals are in the toilet.
That moment when you aren’t sure how much they ate, because food seems to multiply when it hits the floor.
When you’re sure your kids had friends over while you went to the bathroom, because two kids couldn’t have done that by themselves.
When you didn’t finish your breakfast, or your coffee, or shower.
When they refuse to nap, refuse to eat, refuse to be held, and refuse to be put down, simultaneously.

That moment, you are a mother. Yes, you’re always a mother, but you might wear a hundred other hats in a day… wife, sister, chef, friend, housekeeper, daughter, co-worker, chauffeur or any myriad of other jobs you may sometimes hold. But that moment, you’re simply a mom.

You are more than just a busy woman or even a slightly sticky, exhausted human. You’re a mom who provides fully, loves deeply, tries hard, and picks herself up when she slips. You’re a mom who kisses booboos, fixes hair, wipes noses, and cuts crusts off sandwiches. You’re a mom who molds minds, chases dreams, encourages personalities and shapes the future.

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faith, home, mommyhood, parenting fails, pregnancy

Hard Mornings Can Still Become Good Days

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This morning, I was the grump queen. Can't you tell?
This morning, I was the grump queen. Can’t you tell?

Sometimes, EK drives me up the wall.

She shouts. She often shouts things I’ve heard myself say. I try really hard not to shout or yell or holler or whatever at my kids, but sometimes the words I use in a speaking voice that probably are the same as yelling. Sometimes, she’s whiny and tantrum-y and needy and clingy and attached to Daddy even when I’m the only one around, and it’s hard. It can be so hard. Especially when there’s another little one who is also clingy and needy and whiny, it’s really hard. It wears on me. And let’s not pretend that my pregnancy hormones aren’t making it worse, because they are. “She of little patience” has become “Monster with no patience at all”.

Today, we had a hectic morning. I was trying to get the kids and me (with our laundry) out the door so that sick Hubby could rest without screeching (the happy or the sad kind) and bumping and whatever other kid-related noise. While I was doing the normal stuff to get them ready to go, something happened. For the first time, EK hit me. I was totally baffled. I didn’t even punish her. I couldn’t figure out why or what started it. I’d been doing what I normally do in the morning – fixing breakfasts, getting everyone dressed, finding shoes and coats, convincing them to help me get them ready to go, etc. I leaned down to pick something up off the floor (I can’t remember what, now) and while I was leaning over, she swiped at me, right on the side of my head.

It didn’t hurt. She’s just a little girl, so obviously I wasn’t hurt. But my feelings were. I’ve never clocked her on the side of the head (duh) so why would she think to do that to me? She didn’t seem particularly upset in that moment, and I didn’t even say much besides, “Why did you just hit me? Should you sit in time out?” I didn’t know how to respond, really. I just went on with getting us ready and out the door, and remembered it only a few minutes ago.

It was a terrible morning, really. We were all on edge from the moment we woke up. It might have to do with the fact that I woke up on the couch, EK woke up too early, and J woke up too late. It might have to do with the fact that I rushed them immediately out the door. It might be that I wouldn’t let them go see Daddy because I didn’t want them to get sick. It might be a hundred other things. But we were all in a crappy mood, and it just compounded when we were all doing it together.

But after we had spent a morning having breakfast with friends in our favorite little bakery (Tart Sweets – their cinnamon rolls were divine), had a few minutes of play time at home, picking up lunch from Cookout and eating at while we shopped at Babies R Us (it was a weird day, okay?) the kids were in great spirits and are now down in the second hour of their naps. A DOUBLE NAP! I’ve already prepped dinner! It’s wonderful MADNESS, I tell you! Hubby is a little weak, but still peacefully sleeping as he’s been doing all day, the kids and I had a tickle fight on EK’s bed before they napped, and I thankfully got a shower. See, my day could be redeemed. But I won’t pretend that as I packed them in the car, both crying, to go to breakfast, I wasn’t crying along with them, saying, “Jesus, take the freaking wheel.”

After a freezing cold week of being semi-iced-in, cancelled preschool and church activities, and random bouts of sickness, we needed a day out on the town, visiting friends and being productive. We needed to be worn out in a good way. We needed a day away from the TV. The kids are tired of spending all their time in one room (they’re used to roaming between upstairs and downstairs), the half of their toys that aren’t packed, and the fact that we’ve resorted to watching too much TV (even if it’s movies). It’s terrible. I’ve felt cooped up and so do they. We are ready for spring, for the renovations to be done, and for life to return to its regularly scheduled programming. Right now, in our lives, the struggle is real. But thank you Jesus for the reminder that my day, the kids’ day, our lives in general, can be redeemed.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, parenting fails

You Ruined the Moment!

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Today, I had a moment. A moment of full appreciation of all my little guy’s cuteness and quirks. He’d gotten up from his nap a little fussy, and just wanted to cuddle. He needed his mama. I was obviously glad to oblige. I was even tearing up, burying my face in his curls behind his ears, and telling Hubby how glad I was to have a little guy who loved his mama. Then just like that, the moment was over – squelched by a bit of vomit, rolling right down our sleeves and on to my pants.

Thanks a lot, kid.

Luckily, we both needed baths anyway, so I took him to my bathroom, figuring we’d just hop in the shower. As soon as I got his diaper off, he decided to make sure the aforementioned sweet moment was completely gone. He stood up straight, took a big breath, and peed right onto the bath mat.

It was gone. But thanks for making sure, kid.

But the truth is that I often look at my little humans and think about how incredible they are. I think about how EK has her daddy’s hazel eyes, with the speckles of gold. I think about how J has the ice blue eyes of my grandfather, who died while I was pregnant with J. I think about EK’s stubborn personality and wonder (batting my eyes and smiling sneakily) where she could have possibly gotten it from! I listen to J’s happy wordless jabber, probably making up stories and using his imagination already. They’re amazing. God has already given them a thousand unique qualities that I will love, struggle with, pray over and brag about. They are mine, my own. And they are wonderfully and fearfully made.

faith, mommyhood, pregnancy

A Test of Genes and a Test of Faith

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This has been hard. So effing hard. Pardon my French, but this has sucked in a major way.

Two weeks ago at my ultrasound (I briefly mentioned this here) we did the initial screening for chromosomal disorders. This first screening, for those of you that have never had it – I hadn’t with either of my first two kids – is just a little thing that the ultrasound tech looks at during your first ultrasound, around 12 weeks.  So the tech (the same one I’ve had with all my ultrasounds with my other pregnancies) found something (whatever measurement it is that they take) that indicated a “risk” of having an issue, and said that I should have the second screening, which just involved a quick blood draw that day, and I’d get results in a week or so.

That second screening came back (three days later, mid-shower, on a very busy morning, with very little time to process) with a likelihood that the baby has Trisomy 18.

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If you (like me) don’t know anything about it or have never heard of it, here’s what the Trisomy 18 foundation says:

Trisomy 18, also known as Edwards syndrome, is a condition which is caused by a error in cell division, known as meiotic disjunction.  Trisomy 18 occurs in about 1 out of every 2500 pregnancies in the United States, about 1 in 6000 live births.  The numbers of total births increase significantly when stillbirths are factored in that occur in the 2nd and 3rd trimesters of pregnancy.
Unlike Down syndrome, which also is caused by a chromosomal defect, the developmental issues caused by Trisomy 18 are associated with medical complications that are more potentially life-threatening in the early months and years of life. 50% of babies who are carried to term will be stillborn, with baby boys having higher stillbirth rate than baby girls.
Some children will be able to be discharged from the hospital with home nursing support for their families. And although less than 10 percent survive to their first birthdays, some children with Trisomy 18 can enjoy many years of life with their families, reaching milestones and being involved with their community.  A small number of adults (usually girls) with Trisomy 18 have and are living into their twenties and thirties, although with significant developmental delays that do not allow them to live independently without assisted caregiving.

Cliff’s notes: This is bad. High risk of miscarriage. High risk of still birth. High risk of infant mortality. Unlikely for my baby to reach his/her childhood years, much less reach the other side of them.

My doctor (aka my hero – read my birth stories!) encouraged me to get a (very expensive but worth it) blood test that would give us 99.9% accurate results as to whether baby has Trisomy 18. So there I was, having taken a test that will tell me for almost certain whether or not I should be worried for the next 6 months, whether or not to even get excited about decorating a nursery and buying a new outfit or two, whether or not I will have just moments with my sweet child or years. How can a woman possibly be expected to hear this news and do anything but stay in bed all day (several days!) and cry?

As you might expect, I’ve been an emotional wreck. I’ve been vacillating between crying and yelling and being silent and praying and pretending I’m fine. I’ve been on an extremely short fuse, what with being cooped up from the cold, cooped up in half our home, and bearing the unbearable weight of possible bad news.

So I’ll spare you the waiting and waiting that I’ve gone through.

My doctor called yesterday late in the afternoon, as I was lying down to nap. When I saw the caller ID, my heart stopped in my chest. I knew it was the moment of truth. My world could either continue turning, or be shattered for the foreseeable future. I’d been waiting for the call, and now I wasn’t sure if I could answer.

But I did… and he (thankfully, prayerfully and PRAISE THE LORD) told me the test came back negative for Trisomy 18 and other chromosomal disorders, and that the baby is normal. THE BABY IS NORMAL! Has anyone ever been so happy to hear about “normal”?! I don’t know. But I sure was ecstatic and overwhelmed and unable to even respond. I just sat and cried on the phone.

The waiting, my friends, is indeed the hardest part. It’s seemed like an entire lifetime I’ve waited to hear these results, barely breathing, much less going on with life, until I knew how to proceed. My thoughts were consumed, I didn’t stop for a moment to pray for anything else, and I just zombied (yeah, it’s a verb) my way through a week and a half of life, waiting to hear whether my family would drastically change in a good way or bad.

So please, rejoice with me, even though I didn’t share the extent of the situation until now. If I kept it from you, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to tell you. It’s because I didn’t know how to say it. The situation has been redeemed, as Jesus has a knack of doing. My fears and anxieties have been put to rest, and I have a peace in my heart that surpasses understanding. Jesus wins, Jesus saves, Jesus heals and Jesus answers prayers. I am so thankful that I had Jesus to turn to.