Tag Archives: having kids

Everyday Exiles, faith, mommyhood

Here’s to shedding some tears.

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This post also appeared on Everyday Exiles.

I’m a mom of three. I’m a wife. I’m a friend, sister, daughter, writer, singer, colleague, and foodie. Which of those things says I should cry a lot?

Apparently all of them.

Recently, I’ve found that I cry at almost everything. Things my friends say. Books I read. Podcasts I’m listening to (I’m looking at you, Annie F. Downs!). Songs I sing, or hear on the radio. Literally every time I crack open my Bible. It’s a lot. Am I too emotional about some stuff? Maybe. Am I going through something difficult? I don’t know. Probably. Aren’t we all?

Recently, my boys (ages 3.5 and 2) got their first “official” haircuts. They went to see my dad’s barber, in my hometown, as my parents’ house was literally going under contract that afternoon. It was a lot – an emotional day. There were some tears involved, and rightly so. My 11-year-old self was looking around, appreciating the house I’d grown up in for the first time. My 15-year-old self was remembering sleepovers and cramming for exams and late night ice cream sundaes. My 20-year-old self was wondering why I came home from college for the summer, because it was a little boring comparatively, but actually loving the slowness. My 31-year-old self (at present) was wishing my kids would grow up vacationing to that pool and huge front yard forever, and wishing that we had been able to come “home” a little more often.

You see? Tears flowing, even now, weeks later.

Call it hormones. Call it motherhood. Call it “too soft”. But I’m a crier now, more than I ever was. But I know that it just means that Jesus is softening my heart to some things that I haven’t been softened to before… Relationships with incredible women in my life. Shoes that are quite big that it’s my job to fill. My headstrong daughter with ideas all her own, my sensitive middle child with a need for a schedule and some sugar, and my baby, who I equally want to rush into independence and coddle forever. I am torn, in limbo between the already and the not yet, unsure of how to proceed. And then I sit and cry.

I’m not ashamed. I’m really not. I joke about it a lot – and you can call that my coping mechanism. But I really don’t feel bad about the tears I shed. Because it means that I care, I feel deeply, and I love big. I’m okay with those things, because it means I got those traits from Jesus. He cared. He felt deeply. He loved big. And if, in me, it manifests as tears, I’ll take it.

Everyday Exiles, faith, mommyhood

Looking for My Patience

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This post originally appeared on Everyday Exiles.

I’m a parent; of course I lose my patience sometimes. It’s just what we do when things go awry, or when the day’s been too long, or when we’re pushed and stretched to the point of breaking. I’m not saying it’s the right thing to do, or that it is built into our systems as humans, but I don’t know a parent who has never lost their patience.

But I find that I have stretches of time where I lose my patience more than I keep it. I could blame it on hormones. I could blame it on low sleep. I could find a hundred other excuses for not keeping my cool, but what it all comes down to for me is relying on the Lord for my strength and patience, instead of relying only on myself. What do I mean?

I mean that  I can’t do it on my own. My striving, my best efforts, my standards for myself… none of those things can hold up without some divine intervention. I know that I need to ask my heavenly Father for patience before I need it, not during or after. I have to make the prayer for patience my mantra, and I have to keep reminding myself that my own patience isn’t sufficient unless it’s supplemented with His patience. I know I can’t be the best mom without His help.

While I don’t always find time for those long, elaborate, journaled prayers each day that I loved to write before my life was full of parenting, I need prayer even more than I did then. I find that I’m more conversational in my prayer times, coming and going through prayer throughout the whole day, praying for and with my kids, praying for help in a moment of weakness, for healing booboos, for bedtime to come quickly, and for more patience.

Who knows best how to parent more than God does? He is the perfect Father, the One whom our parent-child relationships should be modeled after. We can be frustrating children, I am sure. Reading the Bible can show us example after example of children who disobeyed, and made terrible choices. But God is full of patience, full of grace, and full of love for us at our most insolent of times. So when I am an imperfect parent, I try (even if it seems too late) to draw support from the perfect Parent, a Father who loves me – and my children – with all the patience we can imagine.

faith, random thoughts, women

Lean into the Transition

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A few nights ago at our community group (a group of six couples from my church that meet together to have dinner and fellowship every other week) we were talking about seasons of life. Our group is comprised of two (fairly) newly married couples (with no kids), two couples with young kids (ages 0-7) and two couples with older kids (high school-aged or older) so we’re obviously all in different seasons of life.

As I listened to one of the women talk about how she felt like she and her husband were in a period of transition, I realized that she, being five years younger than me, was also almost exactly where I was five years ago: buying their first house in the hopes they’d be there for a long time, not having kids yet, working jobs that may or may not be the ones they stay in forever… I can remember when I was there. The end of my second year teaching, Hubby and I had been married and lived in a rental property for our first year of marriage, and we were looking forward to having a place that was really ours. Not just a place to “squat” for nine months or a year, or a place we’d just move from in a couple of years. We wanted to buy a home to bring kids home to, ya know? And we achieved it, thank goodness.

But I remember well the feeling of moving and moving and moving that you get while you’re in college. Every fall, I moved to NC for the school year. Every summer I moved back to GA for a couple of months. After graduation, I lived with two of my girlfriends for a little less than a year. Then I moved into the little house Hubby and I lived in right when we got married. After that, after six years and back and forth and to and fro, Hubby and I settled. And here we still are, five years later, happy as can be in our wonderful house in our favorite neighborhood.

I’m not jealous of her stage of transition at all.

But we’ve got our own transitions. Our kids are always growing and changing, and we’re adding a new member to our family in July. We haven’t moved, but we just went through several months of a home renovation (and let me tell you, that felt like an eternity of “in limbo”). I stopped teaching and started leading worship, and Hubby started working at a recording studio. These are all transitions… even if they aren’t as big as some other ones.

I am thankful each day for the season of life I’m in. There are days I’m frustrated and exhausted with it, but most days, I’m happy. I get to spend a ton of time with Hubby and our kids, I’m doing a part-time job that I love, living in a home I enjoy, and a circle of wonderful friends and family with whom to share my life. Every transition and change that comes my way might throw me off a little, but instead of turning back and refusing to move forward, I try to lean into the wind. 

mommyhood, my journey as a mother, pregnancy, siblings

My Journey as a Mother: Family Planning (or Lack Thereof)

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I’ve been inspired the past couple of weeks to write about our family planning. Or lack thereof. There have been several articles I’ve read on the subject, about opinions on child spacing, and in the light of #mommitment I wanted to share my story (lest y’all think I’m crazy for having my three under three and a half).  

You see, when Hubby and I decided we were ready to start having children, we did what any couple’s first step is: I stopped taking the pill. This was January of 2011. We’d been married for a little over a year and a half, and we knew we wouldn’t immediately get pregnant, but we thought we’d see what happened.

What happened was a few months of “not not trying”, where we didn’t really plan out days or anything, but we knew we’d “pulled the goalie”. Then, after the few months of that, we started actually trying, planning days to try to conceive, and keeping track of every single thing – did you know there were APPS FOR THAT?! After a few months of that process and no baby, I’d spent way too much on pregnancy tests and not enough on newborn-sized onesies, so I tried a new approach. I started taking my basal resting temperature. That meant that right as I woke up, I would take my temperature before getting out of bed, record it, and wait for it to one day spike – ever so slightly-  which meant I’d be ovulating. Well, that day came, and so obviously we tried to conceive. Then the next morning, and the nine or ten after that, my temperature never went back down. I basically thought the system was busted. I can’t be ovulating every day. Well, I wasn’t. Because I was pregnant.

When EK was born 10 months later, I was nursing, and while I know that nursing isn’t birth control, I didn’t go back on any sort of birth control when she was born. Hubby and I figured the Lord had a plan, and we were good with whatever it was. My cycle didn’t come back until four months post-partum, and I breastfed until six months. We weren’t trying to get pregnant, but we obviously weren’t preventing it, either.

In March of the next year, when EK was 11 months old, I found out I was pregnant again. We were thrilled, and couldn’t wait to start telling our families, but before we even got to that point, I was cramping and bleeding, and ended up miscarrying at 7 weeks. I was told that I would start my cycle back in 4-12  weeks (Really? What sort of help is that?!) and not to try to get pregnant again until then. I guess they were basically telling me not to rush back into it, and let my body get back to normal. Well, I was obviously emotionally wrecked and not really in a hurry, at least until my body did what it needed to do. A couple of months later, I was out with some girlfriends, who asked me about it. I started counting the weeks, and realized I was at 13. They hadn’t said it would be any longer than 12 weeks (although, how accurate is it, truly?) so just for good measure, I went home and took a test. Positive! Boom.

This time, I had no inkling how far along I was… I’d had to period to reference my ovulation and conception. It wasn’t until my ultrasound at TEN AND A HALF WEEKS that I’d have the baby before the year was out. How’s that for a crazy few months, and an enormous blessing at the end of them?!

After J was born at the end of that year (2013), I nursed him for eight wonderful months, and when he weaned himself, my cycle started back. I had exactly two periods, and found out I was pregnant again. And here I am! 27 weeks with my third little miracle.

Now, did I plan it out this way? No. Did I try to plan differently? No. Am I aware how blessed I am to be fertile and healthy and blessed with three children in four years? Absolutely. I know everyone is not this way – and especially on timing, wouldn’t necessarily want to be this way. Are we often a bit of a madhouse around here? Yes. Do I expect it to get much better? Not for a while. But do I love my little tinies, how close they are together, and how happy they make me? 100%.

I do get some comments and looks at the grocery store when people see me with my littles, and obviously another on the way. “You sure had them close together!” and “You know what causes that, right?” are things I hear a lot. Yes, they are obviously close together, thankyouverymuch. Yes, I CLEARLY know what causes that. I’m a grown woman, amIright? So while I didn’t try to ensure my kids would be mistaken for Irish twins, or likely straight up triplets when they hit high school or so, I wasn’t against having them all in diapers at the same time, or all in college at the same time. I’ll survive. And they will thrive.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

5 Things I Can Do Now That I’m a Parent

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This post also appeared on MyBigJesus.com!

Now That I'm a Parent...

There are some things that I do now that I would have never done before I had kids. There are some things that I do still more, now that I don’t work full time and I spend a lot more time with the kiddos. You might say I’ve had a bit of a etiquette backslide, but I’m enjoying it.

1. Snack all day. Mealtime is now about the kids, so I eat a little of whatever I fix them (mostly healthy) and then snack around whenever I’m hungry. When I say “snack around”, I mean snack around corners, behind closed doors, and in small increments. I can’t share those Cheetos.

2. Wear clothes even when they aren’t exactly clean. At this point in my journey, my life goal is to cut down on laundry. The more times I wear those yoga pants, the better. Because they’re black, that’s one more wear. And that toddler-height smear on the thigh? It’s definitely only a few minutes old. I haven’t had a chance to change yet.

3. Pass on the shower. I don’t mean that I never shower, or that I don’t like to be clean. On the contrary, now that it’s less a part of my routine and more like a luxury, I like it even more. I’ll tell you a little secret: when you see me with my hair pinned back, it’s because I haven’t showered since I’ve slept. It’s my thing.

4. Talk to myself. I never did this a whole lot, but ever since I had my first baby, I’ve felt like reading to them, talking to them and singing to them was good for them and for me. Now that it’s been three years of this, I’m used to narrating my life. So often, you may hear me giving a running commentary even when no one is around. This also may branch out to making a song out of basically any activity; included activities made into songs at my house include putting on socks/shoes, brushing our teeth, rocking in a rocking chair, and washing our hair, to name a few. Just let me have this one, okay?

5. Pee with the door open. In my house, this is a matter of safety. I need to shout commands, and be able to hear every sound my kids make at all times. If the door is closed, I’m suddenly in the dark about the mischief-making of my kids.

What do you do now that you’re a parent that you didn’t do before?

mommyhood, random thoughts, women

An open letter to friends who don’t invite me to stuff just because I have kids

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To all of my friends who have ever not invited me to something, simply because I have kids:

I have three important things to say.

1. The invitation to the party, event, etc. is almost as good as getting to come to it. I know that you would’ve liked me to come, but you thought you knew what my answer would have to be, so you saved me the trouble of saying no. Well, I want to take the trouble of saying no, because sometimes that leads me to number two.

2. The answer just might be yes! I know it’s often not a kid-friendly function, and that’s okay with me! I have lunch dates, I go out with friends, and I even attend parties after my kids’ bedtimes. The tricky thing is that I still have to be invited. I can’t  just show up to your party, because, you know.

3. My feelings sometimes get hurt. Yes, I know how this sounds. I’m not trying to whine or make you feel guilty or anything. I’m just being honest. I’m sitting right here as you make your plans, and maybe you already know that tonight, I’ll have to say no. But can you just throw this tired mama a bone? I want to feel wanted.

Now, I don’t need a bunch of invitations to stuff upon people reading this post. I’m not looking for pity. I’m just sayin’. A gal can be honest in this little corner of the internet, right?

faith, mommyhood, pregnancy, women

Loving on All the Mamas

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I was excited to attend a baby shower over the weekend for a friend who is due with her first baby in June. There were a total of 6 of us (out of maybe 17 or 18) at the shower that were pregnant. Even knowing that a shower is typically a lot of gals around the same age, I felt like that was a lot! But it was SO fun to see gals in every stage of life – and several stages of pregnancy – getting together to celebrate my friend and her new little life she’s expecting. 
I think one of the most important things we can do is celebrate pregnant women. Celebrate women in general, obviously, but there are so many unique ways that you can celebrate and bless women who are expecting. Whether or not they have supportive families, if they got pregnant on the first try, or tried for years, new lives are worth celebrating. As a mother of soon-to-be three, I believe that feeling celebrated for every single one of my pregnancies was really special for me. It wasn’t necessarily a shower or gift or party that made me feel special – it was friends’ and family members’ reactions to our announcement, and meaningful things they said (and are continuing to say) throughout.

Women need encouragement. Expecting mamas and new mamas often need it even more. They need to know that they are made for what they’re doing, that they will figure out the best way to raise that little one. Does that mean it’ll always be easy and come naturally? No. But it does mean that we should encourage all mothers in their journey.

I saw something recently about how a mother who had experienced a long journey with infertility and finally was blessed with children through IVF felt the need to defend her children against someone who said her children were “synthetic”. Who on this earth has the right to say that to anyone? To suggest that babies, children, humans are anything but God-given and made of DNA and cells and souls just like “the rest of us” is the most awful thing you could say. So many mothers today are faced with insecurities and fears, not to mention the ever-growing plethora of choices about every single thing to do/be/get for your baby… why would one then start attacking the babies themselves, saying terrible things about how or when or why they were brought into the world?!

So this is where I feel a call to be encouraging, supportive and just plain loving to mothers of all experience levels, all walks of life, and all kinds and numbers of babies. Whatever the reason you become a mother, you should still be celebrated, supported and encouraged. If you know a mama, or a woman who is expecting, do something nice for them. Say a kind word, pop a note in the mail, or pick up their coffee. If you’re close to them, get them a gift, throw them a shower (or sprinkle!) or pray with/for them. I guarantee you, each of them needs a little love, a little encouragement, or just to be seen, known, and loved.

It can be hard… pregnancy, waiting for an adoption to go through, enduring fertility treatments, having little ones, or struggling with teens. All of those things can be hard on a woman, and I know that sometimes a little encouragement can go a long way. That nice thing you do for the mom? It’ll benefit the child, too.

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