A week ago (has it already been a week?) an older (as in, older than me, not old) friend's husband passed away. Too soon. I have been thinking of her a lot this week. And her kids that really aren't that much younger than me. And her two new grand babies. And the milestones he will miss. And the years that she won't have her beloved beside her. It has been emotional.
An acquaintance celebrated her hubby's birthday without her hubby this last week. This is the third year she has had to do that, since he died way too young.
Today I visited a woman from our church who is near the end. She is in the ICU and we went to say goodbye to her, and provide support to her husband.
As I stood in that room listening to her husband tell stories and hold her hand, and tell her he loved her, and keep a cold washcloth on her forehead, I watched with reverence and awe. I've heard people talk about this 'thin space' when being with someone who is dying. The idea that in the presence of someone who is at this stage in life there is a thin space between living and dying. And this space is sacred. And hard. And beautiful. And painful. And today it was all of that.
It was sacred to watch loved ones hold hands and talk to this precious lady. It was hard to watch a man beginning the mourning process of losing the woman he has loved for 35-plus years. It was beautiful to watch the actions of love he took and his face light up as he spoke of her giving him a hard time even in the midst of her medical decline. And it was painful, knowing what is to come.
I am in awe of pastors, priests, doctors and nurses who witness this stage frequently and have the strength to stand with the family and friends of those who are nearing the end. They do the hard work of being present with those who need someone to be present with them, and say with their presence that those who are mourning do not walk this road alone.
I am also slightly envious, because it felt like such a privilege to be invited into this space and allowed to stand in that room and be present with the family's pain and vulnerability. It is a sacred thing to be invited into someone else's place of vulnerability.
It is never easy when death comes close to home, especially when it seems to come in large waves instead of small ripples. This last week or so has felt like a wave. Even with the hope of heaven and Jesus, there is still pain in the brokenness of this world. I hug my babies and my hubby a little longer, a little more often and a little firmer. My heart mourns and my eyes weep. And Jesus enters into that thin space and reminds us we do not walk this road alone.
Sunday, March 5, 2017
Wednesday, January 11, 2017
Privilege and Food
Baby boy is up and fed and playing happily on the ground before baby girl has even woken up, and there is snow falling outside once again (what is this place?!?) so I have decided to sit down and write all of the thoughts that have been swarming through my head this last week or so. At least if I get started before the whirlwind of the day begins, perhaps it will get finished at some point today.
I am doing Whole30. There. It is out in the open. I know that they say that one of the first things you should do is make it public knowledge so that you have accountability, but I have hesitated to let people know. Maybe it is because some of the people I have known who have done whole30 seem to hold it up as a badge of honor that sometimes comes off to me as if they think they are better than me for making this food choice. Maybe it is because if I did fail (don't plan on doing that, I'm pretty stubborn) I didn't want everyone knowing. I'm sure a large part of it is that I hate doing things because they are "trendy" and this has seemed so trendy lately that I didn't want to be one of those people who did something because everyone else does (I already do plenty of those things).
The truth is, I read the program and got excited about some of the possible health benefits of a digestive system reset and knew that my eating habits after baby #2 needed a reset as well. And I honestly respect their view of food.
So I am currently on day 10. One-third of the way through. Still waiting for the amazing break-through (and I think that the extra onions and garlic I am eating may be affecting my baby- got to work on that). But definitely noticing some food habits I didn't know I had.
Prior to starting I had been stocking up on meat and putting it in our freezer. Knowing that I would be the only one in our household on this 'diet,' I knew I had to do some pre-planning. I mean, little miss' protein sources are all on the 'do not eat' list, so there was no dragging her along on this (unless I wanted to starve my daughter or engage in lots of food battles- not my idea of fun). As I purchased meat and fresh produce I thought of how our food budget would be slightly different this month.
And then I thought about privilege.
I thought about how I have the privilege to choose what I am going to eat. I thought about how my budget allows us to not only buy cheap dry beans and rice in bulk, but instead purchase decent cuts of meat and mostly organic produce. I thought about how people in other parts of the world, and even many people in the United States do not have the option to switch up their diet to see if they are sensitive to certain foods or to break bad food habits, because they eat whatever they can get their hands on. They worry more about whether they will ever get fresh fruits and vegetables instead of whether they should buy organic or not. They worry more about whether their diet will have enough calcium and other needed nutrients because the foods that provide those (dairy, etc.) are perishable and not readily available. They might not worry about any of this, and instead worry about whether there will be anything on the table, instead of worrying about whether or not they are eating too much chocolate, or how dairy might be affecting their gut, or whether gluten is causing that bloating feeling.
Honestly, I struggled with the knowledge that I have such privilege. And I still do to some degree as I continue through this. Why should I be so lucky? I am working on the view that I am not depriving myself during these 30 days. I am actually getting better food than many people eat everyday. I still have lots of choices. Missing out on a birthday cake or fresh-baked bread, or cheese doesn't seem so bad when put in this perspective. As the Whole30 crew says. This isn't hard. It's only 30 days. So I continue on.
I am doing Whole30. There. It is out in the open. I know that they say that one of the first things you should do is make it public knowledge so that you have accountability, but I have hesitated to let people know. Maybe it is because some of the people I have known who have done whole30 seem to hold it up as a badge of honor that sometimes comes off to me as if they think they are better than me for making this food choice. Maybe it is because if I did fail (don't plan on doing that, I'm pretty stubborn) I didn't want everyone knowing. I'm sure a large part of it is that I hate doing things because they are "trendy" and this has seemed so trendy lately that I didn't want to be one of those people who did something because everyone else does (I already do plenty of those things).
The truth is, I read the program and got excited about some of the possible health benefits of a digestive system reset and knew that my eating habits after baby #2 needed a reset as well. And I honestly respect their view of food.
So I am currently on day 10. One-third of the way through. Still waiting for the amazing break-through (and I think that the extra onions and garlic I am eating may be affecting my baby- got to work on that). But definitely noticing some food habits I didn't know I had.
Prior to starting I had been stocking up on meat and putting it in our freezer. Knowing that I would be the only one in our household on this 'diet,' I knew I had to do some pre-planning. I mean, little miss' protein sources are all on the 'do not eat' list, so there was no dragging her along on this (unless I wanted to starve my daughter or engage in lots of food battles- not my idea of fun). As I purchased meat and fresh produce I thought of how our food budget would be slightly different this month.
And then I thought about privilege.
I thought about how I have the privilege to choose what I am going to eat. I thought about how my budget allows us to not only buy cheap dry beans and rice in bulk, but instead purchase decent cuts of meat and mostly organic produce. I thought about how people in other parts of the world, and even many people in the United States do not have the option to switch up their diet to see if they are sensitive to certain foods or to break bad food habits, because they eat whatever they can get their hands on. They worry more about whether they will ever get fresh fruits and vegetables instead of whether they should buy organic or not. They worry more about whether their diet will have enough calcium and other needed nutrients because the foods that provide those (dairy, etc.) are perishable and not readily available. They might not worry about any of this, and instead worry about whether there will be anything on the table, instead of worrying about whether or not they are eating too much chocolate, or how dairy might be affecting their gut, or whether gluten is causing that bloating feeling.
Honestly, I struggled with the knowledge that I have such privilege. And I still do to some degree as I continue through this. Why should I be so lucky? I am working on the view that I am not depriving myself during these 30 days. I am actually getting better food than many people eat everyday. I still have lots of choices. Missing out on a birthday cake or fresh-baked bread, or cheese doesn't seem so bad when put in this perspective. As the Whole30 crew says. This isn't hard. It's only 30 days. So I continue on.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Advent Thoughts #1
I really wish God didn't feel the need to hit me over the head with lessons... Okay, really I wish I could pick up on lessons a little faster so God didn't have to hit me over the head for something to get my attention.
We are less than a week into the Advent season and I know lesson #1 for this season this year, for me, is that this season is not about THINGS.
Nudge #1: On Thanksgiving day a bracelet broke. It was a special bracelet, bought for me during a time of transition by some very dear people. It represented that transition to me; the pain and loss as well as the hope of something new. And it represented the moving away from relationships that had been important to me for a long time. It didn't break to a point of not being wearable, just a delicate detail broke off and it will never be the same. I know it is just a "thing," an object, but it effected me emotionally. I am thankful for a husband who understands the importance of this piece of jewelry and why I needed to grieve for a bit, but I also tried to tell myself, it is just a thing. Things pass away eventually anyway.
Nudge #2: At Bible study on Thursday an Oscar Romero poem was read to us during a discussion of advent and learning to receive instead of give. It got me thinking about where I am needy and where do I make space for my need for God. This is an excerpt:
No one can celebrate a genuine Christmas
without being truly poor.
The self-sufficient,
the proud,
those who, because they have everything,
look down on others,
those who have no need even of God--
for them there will be no Christmas.
Only the poor,
the hungry,
those who need someone to come on their behalf,
will have that someone.
That someone is God,
Emmanuel,
God-with-us.
Without poverty of spirit
there can be no abundance of God.
Nudge #3: This morning my daughter, in her excitement about all things related to Mary and Joseph, broke the hand on my carved wooden nativity from Nicaragua. What's more important, my daughter or the carving? Obviously my daughter, and I didn't actually get mad at her. But I mourned a little. There is a chance that a little wood glue will make it somewhat the same, but it won't be perfect. Why did I mourn? It is unique, it is special, it is one-of-a-kind (you know, the kind of thing that you get by jumping over ditches and crawling through fences to get to the back yard of a friend of a friend and you ask him to specially make this beautiful carving), it is irreplaceable.
Nudge #4: This Christmas season my favorite CD has been Casting Crowns' "Peace on Earth." It is a beautiful mix of thought-provoking songs relating to missing the understanding of the baby in the manger to joyful, fiddle-filled renditions of Joy to the World (I love a good fiddle). I have played it several times over the last couple days so I pulled out an Amy Grant CD to change it up a bit. The Amy Grant CD might not be played again this season. All that stood out to me were the songs about spending more money than we have, but who cares, wanting more and more and more, etc. It seemed to be in such contrast to what I had been listening. My spirit was yearning for something deeper. I gave up and put Casting Crowns back on (only to have the CD skip and not play well, ugh!).
Nudge #5:We spent the evening as a family at a local tree lighting festival. There was a kid's craft fair and we bought a little bracelet for our daughter. The money was going to build homes in Mexico. (Note: the money given was much more important than the bracelet). After purchasing the bracelet we went outside to the tree lighting ceremony and then walked a few blocks back to the car. Somewhere along there the bracelet fell off my daughter's wrist. For some reason this weighed heavily on me...just one more thing that went wrong in an emotional evening. But again, just a thing.
As I sit reflecting back on all of this I realize how much I need God this season and how much I get pulled into the Christmas bustle (even though I love planning and buying gifts). Apparently my spirit is trying to get my attention to put aside things and the importance they often hold in my life and put my attention instead on the giver and sustainer of life.
Praying that this advent season continues to be a time of reflection and of creating space for my spirit.
Post-Note: I will say that God does understand how much I love giving things at Christmas, though, because I have made some pretty good scores lately at the store. Interesting juxtaposition, but there it is. And a relative did find the bracelet on the ground after we left, so it is back on our little daughter's wrist.
We are less than a week into the Advent season and I know lesson #1 for this season this year, for me, is that this season is not about THINGS.
Nudge #1: On Thanksgiving day a bracelet broke. It was a special bracelet, bought for me during a time of transition by some very dear people. It represented that transition to me; the pain and loss as well as the hope of something new. And it represented the moving away from relationships that had been important to me for a long time. It didn't break to a point of not being wearable, just a delicate detail broke off and it will never be the same. I know it is just a "thing," an object, but it effected me emotionally. I am thankful for a husband who understands the importance of this piece of jewelry and why I needed to grieve for a bit, but I also tried to tell myself, it is just a thing. Things pass away eventually anyway.
Nudge #2: At Bible study on Thursday an Oscar Romero poem was read to us during a discussion of advent and learning to receive instead of give. It got me thinking about where I am needy and where do I make space for my need for God. This is an excerpt:
No one can celebrate a genuine Christmas
without being truly poor.
The self-sufficient,
the proud,
those who, because they have everything,
look down on others,
those who have no need even of God--
for them there will be no Christmas.
Only the poor,
the hungry,
those who need someone to come on their behalf,
will have that someone.
That someone is God,
Emmanuel,
God-with-us.
Without poverty of spirit
there can be no abundance of God.
Nudge #3: This morning my daughter, in her excitement about all things related to Mary and Joseph, broke the hand on my carved wooden nativity from Nicaragua. What's more important, my daughter or the carving? Obviously my daughter, and I didn't actually get mad at her. But I mourned a little. There is a chance that a little wood glue will make it somewhat the same, but it won't be perfect. Why did I mourn? It is unique, it is special, it is one-of-a-kind (you know, the kind of thing that you get by jumping over ditches and crawling through fences to get to the back yard of a friend of a friend and you ask him to specially make this beautiful carving), it is irreplaceable.
Nudge #4: This Christmas season my favorite CD has been Casting Crowns' "Peace on Earth." It is a beautiful mix of thought-provoking songs relating to missing the understanding of the baby in the manger to joyful, fiddle-filled renditions of Joy to the World (I love a good fiddle). I have played it several times over the last couple days so I pulled out an Amy Grant CD to change it up a bit. The Amy Grant CD might not be played again this season. All that stood out to me were the songs about spending more money than we have, but who cares, wanting more and more and more, etc. It seemed to be in such contrast to what I had been listening. My spirit was yearning for something deeper. I gave up and put Casting Crowns back on (only to have the CD skip and not play well, ugh!).
Nudge #5:We spent the evening as a family at a local tree lighting festival. There was a kid's craft fair and we bought a little bracelet for our daughter. The money was going to build homes in Mexico. (Note: the money given was much more important than the bracelet). After purchasing the bracelet we went outside to the tree lighting ceremony and then walked a few blocks back to the car. Somewhere along there the bracelet fell off my daughter's wrist. For some reason this weighed heavily on me...just one more thing that went wrong in an emotional evening. But again, just a thing.
As I sit reflecting back on all of this I realize how much I need God this season and how much I get pulled into the Christmas bustle (even though I love planning and buying gifts). Apparently my spirit is trying to get my attention to put aside things and the importance they often hold in my life and put my attention instead on the giver and sustainer of life.
Praying that this advent season continues to be a time of reflection and of creating space for my spirit.
Post-Note: I will say that God does understand how much I love giving things at Christmas, though, because I have made some pretty good scores lately at the store. Interesting juxtaposition, but there it is. And a relative did find the bracelet on the ground after we left, so it is back on our little daughter's wrist.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
Never Let Go
For the sake of my daughter, who loves music, I put on some David Crowder Band. As I sat nursing my son during a difficult week the band starts singing "You never let go, you never let go..." I am close to tears as I look down at my son.
Just moments before I had been hoping to put my son down. It is 10:15 and I have still not had breakfast because it has been a fussy, needy morning; first my daughter, then my son. I had already nursed him in the last hour, but the fussing was increasing. So I turned off the eggs on the stove and sat down to nurse him again. He cradled in and ate, closing his eyes with contentment.
I sat and listened and as I looked at my son during that song. I thought of the marvel of how much God loves us. No matter how much we fuss and cry and complain, he continues to hold us. I know because as I listened to the song and held my son I thought back on my week and how fussy and selfish I had been. Through it all God had held me. He didn't let me go. He didn't say, "I would really like to get some cleaning done so could you please quiet down and just be content." He didn't say, "Have you even noticed how much I have already done for you today? Can't you give me 2 minutes alone?" Not that I have said these things to my kiddos. Well at least I didn't really mean them when I said them, and I said them quietly to myself. I definitely thought them.
But if there is one take away from the last two years of parenting it would be that parenting teaches me a lot about the love of God. From how much He must love us, to the way He must take delight in watching our personalities, to how much He must want to keep us from pain and want the best for us, to knowing He would never let us go because I could never let my children go (as in the way I love and desire the best for them; don't worry they will be allowed to leave the house and spread their wings some day). Lesson noted: He will never let me go. Thanks daughter and son for continuing to be messengers of God in my life.
Just moments before I had been hoping to put my son down. It is 10:15 and I have still not had breakfast because it has been a fussy, needy morning; first my daughter, then my son. I had already nursed him in the last hour, but the fussing was increasing. So I turned off the eggs on the stove and sat down to nurse him again. He cradled in and ate, closing his eyes with contentment.
I sat and listened and as I looked at my son during that song. I thought of the marvel of how much God loves us. No matter how much we fuss and cry and complain, he continues to hold us. I know because as I listened to the song and held my son I thought back on my week and how fussy and selfish I had been. Through it all God had held me. He didn't let me go. He didn't say, "I would really like to get some cleaning done so could you please quiet down and just be content." He didn't say, "Have you even noticed how much I have already done for you today? Can't you give me 2 minutes alone?" Not that I have said these things to my kiddos. Well at least I didn't really mean them when I said them, and I said them quietly to myself. I definitely thought them.
But if there is one take away from the last two years of parenting it would be that parenting teaches me a lot about the love of God. From how much He must love us, to the way He must take delight in watching our personalities, to how much He must want to keep us from pain and want the best for us, to knowing He would never let us go because I could never let my children go (as in the way I love and desire the best for them; don't worry they will be allowed to leave the house and spread their wings some day). Lesson noted: He will never let me go. Thanks daughter and son for continuing to be messengers of God in my life.
Sunday, October 16, 2016
How to have an {almost} perfect day with {my} two kids under two
Today I discovered how to have a perfect day with two kids under two...okay, really just an almost perfect day. And it might have just been today that it worked. And it may only work with my two kiddos, because I know my kiddos and can read my kiddos, but here are a few more universal tidbits I pulled from today. Now if I could only let them sink in and actually believe them and live by them the rest of my days with my kiddos.
1. Have no expectation of when you are going to get out the door in the morning to go grocery shopping. This allows you to be much more patient with the child who doesn't hurry and the infant that decides he wants to nurse one more time.
Note: living without an exact schedule also means you can enjoy the drive through the countryside even though you get stuck behind a slow moving truck. In fact you enjoy it even more because you realize that it allows you to look at the sunflowers, scarecrows and pumpkins in people's yards, the changing leaves on the trees and all the other beautiful autumn things.
(unfortunately for us, there are days where we need to be a certain place by a certain time, but when we don't I need to not set such a strict schedule for myself)
2. Forget fashion--wear the most comfortable shoes you own. You will be happier without blisters or aching feet and consequently will be happier in your parenting, making everyone happier.
3. Sing along with your child in the store instead of feeling like her odd noises might be annoying to other shoppers
4. Make sure to pack snack and books so that your child can be adequately entertained throughout the excursion.
5. Give yourself permission to eat out on a shopping trip like this instead of trying to rush home and put food together or trying to feed a child in the car. Seriously. Again, everyone is much happier!
6. When you see an ambulance in the parking lot of said restaurant (because EMTs need to eat too), pause and talk to your child about it and exclaim over it with her...you might just get a wave and some special flashing lights as entertainment.
7. When eating out, don't worry quite so much about what your child eats.
8. And don't worry about your crying baby, or nursing in public, or...in other words, don't let others pass judgement on you--just focus on your cute baby and your little girl in the high chair pointing at all of the cars out the window while shoveling applesauce into her mouth on a much too big spoon.
9. Don't sweat nap time. That is to say, if your child isn't going to have a major meltdown if nap time is 30, 45, 60 minutes later than normal, don't rush to get home by the exact nap time. Know nap time will happen.
10. When you get home from said shopping trip, don't worry about putting away all the food right away (except fridge items). Let yourself sit on the couch for a bit to relax before tackling the next thing.
11. Have a husband who understands your OCD tendencies and will hold the crying baby in the evening so you can put groceries and laundry away and pick up the toys so it feels as though some chore actually got finished today (since you spent the afternoon on the couch); I mean besides grocery shopping...man, I am an over achiever! (Note: The laundry has been done for 3 days, just sitting unfolded in laundry baskets.)
So what did I learn in my day of grocery shopping? Loosen up a bit, relax the schedule, and don't let others' opinions shape how you face life/parent/run your day. Lessons to live by.
1. Have no expectation of when you are going to get out the door in the morning to go grocery shopping. This allows you to be much more patient with the child who doesn't hurry and the infant that decides he wants to nurse one more time.
Note: living without an exact schedule also means you can enjoy the drive through the countryside even though you get stuck behind a slow moving truck. In fact you enjoy it even more because you realize that it allows you to look at the sunflowers, scarecrows and pumpkins in people's yards, the changing leaves on the trees and all the other beautiful autumn things.
(unfortunately for us, there are days where we need to be a certain place by a certain time, but when we don't I need to not set such a strict schedule for myself)
2. Forget fashion--wear the most comfortable shoes you own. You will be happier without blisters or aching feet and consequently will be happier in your parenting, making everyone happier.
3. Sing along with your child in the store instead of feeling like her odd noises might be annoying to other shoppers
4. Make sure to pack snack and books so that your child can be adequately entertained throughout the excursion.
5. Give yourself permission to eat out on a shopping trip like this instead of trying to rush home and put food together or trying to feed a child in the car. Seriously. Again, everyone is much happier!
6. When you see an ambulance in the parking lot of said restaurant (because EMTs need to eat too), pause and talk to your child about it and exclaim over it with her...you might just get a wave and some special flashing lights as entertainment.
7. When eating out, don't worry quite so much about what your child eats.
8. And don't worry about your crying baby, or nursing in public, or...in other words, don't let others pass judgement on you--just focus on your cute baby and your little girl in the high chair pointing at all of the cars out the window while shoveling applesauce into her mouth on a much too big spoon.
9. Don't sweat nap time. That is to say, if your child isn't going to have a major meltdown if nap time is 30, 45, 60 minutes later than normal, don't rush to get home by the exact nap time. Know nap time will happen.
10. When you get home from said shopping trip, don't worry about putting away all the food right away (except fridge items). Let yourself sit on the couch for a bit to relax before tackling the next thing.
11. Have a husband who understands your OCD tendencies and will hold the crying baby in the evening so you can put groceries and laundry away and pick up the toys so it feels as though some chore actually got finished today (since you spent the afternoon on the couch); I mean besides grocery shopping...man, I am an over achiever! (Note: The laundry has been done for 3 days, just sitting unfolded in laundry baskets.)
So what did I learn in my day of grocery shopping? Loosen up a bit, relax the schedule, and don't let others' opinions shape how you face life/parent/run your day. Lessons to live by.
Friday, September 16, 2016
Meltdown
Today I felt like "that mom."
For the most part I have been blessed with a little girl who throws minor fits, but can be easily distracted or redirected. This means in the grocery store or, frankly, anywhere out in public, we don't have those major meltdowns.
And then we went and had a second child right as she turned one-and-a-half. Which means the emotional, "I-didn't-get-enough-attention-or-enough-sleep" meltdowns or the "I-have-my-own-opinion-and-want-to-test-the-boundaries" meltdowns have started. Usually they are at home and revolve around diaper changes and bed time (and not being allowed outside to pet the stray cat that wants to adopt us). But every once in awhile they have been in public.
"No, you can't get out of the shopping cart."
"No, you can't run through the parking lot without holding a hand."
"Sorry, I know you want to play on the playground, but we are heading inside the church."
"We need to go the other direction."
She usually sits down and attempts to not be moved, which is difficult when I am holding the baby. However, I am usually pretty well prepared and the baby is in a wrap or carrier so I have two hands with which to move said 1.5-year-old.
Today I made a mistake. You know those Luvs commercials that compare first-time parents with second-time parents? Well, this second-time parent left the house a little under-prepared today thinking we would be fine.
It started out innocently enough. We needed to get out of the house and I told her she could ride her bike up and down the sidewalk. We had had a friend over and she was getting ready to walk home, so I put my daughter's shoes and helmet on her and grabbed the baby. The next thing I know we are no longer headed up and down the sidewalk, but we are headed to the walking track behind our house, walking with our friend. No big deal. Baby is sleeping and daughter is happily riding her bike pointing out birds and cars and flowers. We need the exercise and the fresh air feels good.
We get half-way around the walking track, where the playground is located. I tell her that she can play for a few minutes and this is where our friend continues on her way anyways, so we say goodbye and my little girl starts chasing a squirrel.
Next thing I know the happily sleeping baby (who, by the way, ate shortly before we left the house) decides he is hungry again. It is just the quiet little grunts that tell me we better head back home. As we are leaving the park my daughter spots two other bikes whose owners are just returning to them. The mom of these two boys and I have a mutual friend and strike up a conversation as her boys get back on their bikes and my daughter starts her adoration giggles (she loves older kids!). They start heading back towards their house and my daughter decides that is the way she wants to go as well.
Small meltdown #1: Momma has to carry the baby who is starting to fuss a little bit more, while dragging the one-year-old by the hand and nudging the bike along with a foot. "Can you hear your brother? He is starting to get hungry, so we need to head home so he can eat. I need you to walk please."
By this point (it is slow moving in the aforementioned manner) baby has now begun to scream and root like crazy. Up ahead there is a bench by the side of the path and I think, we just have to make it to the bench. Slowly we move in that direction and I am able to lift the daughter on to the bench and get baby latched on and nursing. I don't know why we didn't just stay there. Probably because it was right in the hot sun and nap time was quickly approaching. I decided we could walk home while I was nursing. Thankfully I had a blanket with me and I was wearing a nursing cami under my shirt, meaning I wouldn't be bearing my entire midriff as we walked along. We continued on our way home. This time the walking child was fairly content (after a short cry having fallen on her face trying to run like the lady who passed us on the track). However she was still not interested in riding her bike so I found myself nursing a child and carrying a small bike while urging a small child to "keep walking." This was especially true after she found a puddle (don't ask me how there was a puddle in 80 degree weather) and decided to plop herself down in it.
I finally get us all moving again, but it is getting harder and harder to keep the small child latched on while prodding along the toddler and the bike. Then, all of a sudden my daughter decides she wants to be carried. What?! Are you kidding me?! I'm already carrying an infant and a bike, I don't have much more arm space (or strength) to carry another child. "No, no keep walking." She plops down and cries. She drags her feet as I attempt to get her to move with my one free hand (which isn't really free because now the infant is being held precariously with two dangling feet). She wails to be carried. And I felt like "that mom" in the store with the screaming child.
And then, without knowing it I'm sure, she picks the perfect thing with which to convince me to carry her. "Look mama, berries!"
Yes, berries. Deadly nightshade berries to be exact and after two unsuccessful attempts to get her to keep moving and not go back to pick the berries, I find myself carrying a screaming infant (no way to keep him attached and nursing with everything I have to carry), a small toddler bike, and a toddler outfitted with a helmet.
I wish I could have seen myself. I'm sure it was hilarious. And I give a half-laugh looking back on it now. But at the moment I felt slightly embarrassed. And I was wondering where all the wonderful Good Samaritan people were who would help me with my burden. Two kiddos is a lot to carry along with a bike!
But you know what made it all worth it and calmed my frustrated spirit. The utter look of contentment and adoration on my little girl's face as I carried her home. She looked so happy (okay, it might have been a little smug, but there was adoration under the smugness, believe me).
I got home with VERY tired arms and a tired heart, but after taking deep breaths I worked on my new personal motto "I am enough." (Thanks Brené Brown).
I am enough mama for these children. I am enough when other people look with judgement (oh wait, there wasn't anyone else there or I might have had some help!). I am enough even when I make parenting mistakes (must always carry baby in front pack when 1.5-year-old is left to roam). I am enough even when my children are having meltdowns. I am enough, even when I am exhausted and tired and don't know how I will take one more step. I am enough. It is that simple.
And that is what I tell myself now, as I watch these sweet things sleep. I am enough and they are too, just the way they are.
For the most part I have been blessed with a little girl who throws minor fits, but can be easily distracted or redirected. This means in the grocery store or, frankly, anywhere out in public, we don't have those major meltdowns.
And then we went and had a second child right as she turned one-and-a-half. Which means the emotional, "I-didn't-get-enough-attention-or-enough-sleep" meltdowns or the "I-have-my-own-opinion-and-want-to-test-the-boundaries" meltdowns have started. Usually they are at home and revolve around diaper changes and bed time (and not being allowed outside to pet the stray cat that wants to adopt us). But every once in awhile they have been in public.
"No, you can't get out of the shopping cart."
"No, you can't run through the parking lot without holding a hand."
"Sorry, I know you want to play on the playground, but we are heading inside the church."
"We need to go the other direction."
She usually sits down and attempts to not be moved, which is difficult when I am holding the baby. However, I am usually pretty well prepared and the baby is in a wrap or carrier so I have two hands with which to move said 1.5-year-old.
Today I made a mistake. You know those Luvs commercials that compare first-time parents with second-time parents? Well, this second-time parent left the house a little under-prepared today thinking we would be fine.
It started out innocently enough. We needed to get out of the house and I told her she could ride her bike up and down the sidewalk. We had had a friend over and she was getting ready to walk home, so I put my daughter's shoes and helmet on her and grabbed the baby. The next thing I know we are no longer headed up and down the sidewalk, but we are headed to the walking track behind our house, walking with our friend. No big deal. Baby is sleeping and daughter is happily riding her bike pointing out birds and cars and flowers. We need the exercise and the fresh air feels good.
We get half-way around the walking track, where the playground is located. I tell her that she can play for a few minutes and this is where our friend continues on her way anyways, so we say goodbye and my little girl starts chasing a squirrel.
Next thing I know the happily sleeping baby (who, by the way, ate shortly before we left the house) decides he is hungry again. It is just the quiet little grunts that tell me we better head back home. As we are leaving the park my daughter spots two other bikes whose owners are just returning to them. The mom of these two boys and I have a mutual friend and strike up a conversation as her boys get back on their bikes and my daughter starts her adoration giggles (she loves older kids!). They start heading back towards their house and my daughter decides that is the way she wants to go as well.
Small meltdown #1: Momma has to carry the baby who is starting to fuss a little bit more, while dragging the one-year-old by the hand and nudging the bike along with a foot. "Can you hear your brother? He is starting to get hungry, so we need to head home so he can eat. I need you to walk please."
By this point (it is slow moving in the aforementioned manner) baby has now begun to scream and root like crazy. Up ahead there is a bench by the side of the path and I think, we just have to make it to the bench. Slowly we move in that direction and I am able to lift the daughter on to the bench and get baby latched on and nursing. I don't know why we didn't just stay there. Probably because it was right in the hot sun and nap time was quickly approaching. I decided we could walk home while I was nursing. Thankfully I had a blanket with me and I was wearing a nursing cami under my shirt, meaning I wouldn't be bearing my entire midriff as we walked along. We continued on our way home. This time the walking child was fairly content (after a short cry having fallen on her face trying to run like the lady who passed us on the track). However she was still not interested in riding her bike so I found myself nursing a child and carrying a small bike while urging a small child to "keep walking." This was especially true after she found a puddle (don't ask me how there was a puddle in 80 degree weather) and decided to plop herself down in it.
I finally get us all moving again, but it is getting harder and harder to keep the small child latched on while prodding along the toddler and the bike. Then, all of a sudden my daughter decides she wants to be carried. What?! Are you kidding me?! I'm already carrying an infant and a bike, I don't have much more arm space (or strength) to carry another child. "No, no keep walking." She plops down and cries. She drags her feet as I attempt to get her to move with my one free hand (which isn't really free because now the infant is being held precariously with two dangling feet). She wails to be carried. And I felt like "that mom" in the store with the screaming child.
And then, without knowing it I'm sure, she picks the perfect thing with which to convince me to carry her. "Look mama, berries!"
Yes, berries. Deadly nightshade berries to be exact and after two unsuccessful attempts to get her to keep moving and not go back to pick the berries, I find myself carrying a screaming infant (no way to keep him attached and nursing with everything I have to carry), a small toddler bike, and a toddler outfitted with a helmet.
I wish I could have seen myself. I'm sure it was hilarious. And I give a half-laugh looking back on it now. But at the moment I felt slightly embarrassed. And I was wondering where all the wonderful Good Samaritan people were who would help me with my burden. Two kiddos is a lot to carry along with a bike!
But you know what made it all worth it and calmed my frustrated spirit. The utter look of contentment and adoration on my little girl's face as I carried her home. She looked so happy (okay, it might have been a little smug, but there was adoration under the smugness, believe me).
I got home with VERY tired arms and a tired heart, but after taking deep breaths I worked on my new personal motto "I am enough." (Thanks Brené Brown).
I am enough mama for these children. I am enough when other people look with judgement (oh wait, there wasn't anyone else there or I might have had some help!). I am enough even when I make parenting mistakes (must always carry baby in front pack when 1.5-year-old is left to roam). I am enough even when my children are having meltdowns. I am enough, even when I am exhausted and tired and don't know how I will take one more step. I am enough. It is that simple.
And that is what I tell myself now, as I watch these sweet things sleep. I am enough and they are too, just the way they are.
Friday, September 9, 2016
When Mommy-ing Isn't Enough
Recently I read a blog post by a woman who was gently defending her degree (time spent, money spent, etc.) even though she was "just a stay-at-home mom." It was refreshing. It was one lady's perspective on why it is okay to go and get a college degree and perhaps not use it in the way most people would intend for it to be used. I think the most important thing about it was that it was making it clear that we all have different paths in life when it comes to career and vocation and "calling" and fulfillment.
This is true. And this is what people who fight against the "Mommy Wars" are trying so hard to establish.
Recently I have been contemplating the opposite. What if mommy-ing isn't enough for someone? In my small mom's group we have a new mom. Honestly, at this point, mommy-ing isn't enough for her. And I wish I had some great advice for her.
I can empathize. I can sympathize. I can tell her I have been there and felt that and sometimes still do. But I don't have any great advice for her on how to make life a little more meaningful. For those of us who worked hard to get to a career and loved our career, it can be difficult to find ourselves suddenly having our schedules revolve around the feeding, changing and corralling of a little one. Yes, it does bring out our selfishness and we realize how much we just want one moment that is our own. But it also takes a completely different mindset- even for someone like me who "took care of children" all day anyway.
What advice to I give? Yes, I've been there. I am still there sometimes. Sometimes I think through my day and how I read stories and nursed a baby and washed dishes and did laundry and I wonder what other meaningful activity I could do. But I can't tell her "oh, just wait until x week or month or year and suddenly it will be enough." There isn't some magic number. For some women (or stay-at-home dads) that magic number is the moment that baby comes. For others, work calls immediately. And for some of us, we make the decision to stay home and enjoy most days and still struggle with others.
And then there are the people who would love to have a family and struggle with infertility. How do we have these conversations with these friends? Or friends who wish to stay home, but must work for financial reasons.
I am super blessed to have a husband who is willing to work at a job that allows me to stay at home with our littles without a huge financial burden on our family. I am blessed to have a husband who supports me in staying home. I have been blessed by a work community who, when I officially resigned this spring, cheered me on and wished me best as I spent time with my kiddos (teachers really do understand the pros to this decision).
I am also blessed to have a husband who understands that sometimes Mommy-ing isn't enough. Not because I don't love our children; I do with all of my heart, but because sometimes I wonder what else I could be contributing to the world (no mommy wars here- please don't tell me that raising children to be loving and respectful is a great contribution to the world- I know). I am blessed to have a community of women (however small or large) that has been there too, or is still there.That let me have these conversations without judgement.
I think the best we can do is recognize that we are all different. We can have grace with ourselves about who we are. This has been (and will continue to be) a long process for me. I grew up where stay-at-home mommying was a given. And it is what I personally want for my children. But it has also been a process to recognize that I, personally, might need some more outlets. I might need to volunteer once in a while. I might need personal space more than other mommys. I might need to keep receiving my professional magazines so I can momentarily immerse myself in the world of education, even if just mentally (although this often leads to a desire for some sort of discussion group).
And I just hope that when I am a bit further down the road, I can ask friends, "are you finding meaningful things to do as you stay at home?" and when they say "no," I might actually have some advice. Some question that prompts them to find that meaning. Cause none of us should have to journey this alone. None of us should have to feel that we aren't good enough if mommy-ing isn't enough. All of us should recognize that our journeys are all different.
This is true. And this is what people who fight against the "Mommy Wars" are trying so hard to establish.
Recently I have been contemplating the opposite. What if mommy-ing isn't enough for someone? In my small mom's group we have a new mom. Honestly, at this point, mommy-ing isn't enough for her. And I wish I had some great advice for her.
I can empathize. I can sympathize. I can tell her I have been there and felt that and sometimes still do. But I don't have any great advice for her on how to make life a little more meaningful. For those of us who worked hard to get to a career and loved our career, it can be difficult to find ourselves suddenly having our schedules revolve around the feeding, changing and corralling of a little one. Yes, it does bring out our selfishness and we realize how much we just want one moment that is our own. But it also takes a completely different mindset- even for someone like me who "took care of children" all day anyway.
What advice to I give? Yes, I've been there. I am still there sometimes. Sometimes I think through my day and how I read stories and nursed a baby and washed dishes and did laundry and I wonder what other meaningful activity I could do. But I can't tell her "oh, just wait until x week or month or year and suddenly it will be enough." There isn't some magic number. For some women (or stay-at-home dads) that magic number is the moment that baby comes. For others, work calls immediately. And for some of us, we make the decision to stay home and enjoy most days and still struggle with others.
And then there are the people who would love to have a family and struggle with infertility. How do we have these conversations with these friends? Or friends who wish to stay home, but must work for financial reasons.
I am super blessed to have a husband who is willing to work at a job that allows me to stay at home with our littles without a huge financial burden on our family. I am blessed to have a husband who supports me in staying home. I have been blessed by a work community who, when I officially resigned this spring, cheered me on and wished me best as I spent time with my kiddos (teachers really do understand the pros to this decision).
I am also blessed to have a husband who understands that sometimes Mommy-ing isn't enough. Not because I don't love our children; I do with all of my heart, but because sometimes I wonder what else I could be contributing to the world (no mommy wars here- please don't tell me that raising children to be loving and respectful is a great contribution to the world- I know). I am blessed to have a community of women (however small or large) that has been there too, or is still there.That let me have these conversations without judgement.
I think the best we can do is recognize that we are all different. We can have grace with ourselves about who we are. This has been (and will continue to be) a long process for me. I grew up where stay-at-home mommying was a given. And it is what I personally want for my children. But it has also been a process to recognize that I, personally, might need some more outlets. I might need to volunteer once in a while. I might need personal space more than other mommys. I might need to keep receiving my professional magazines so I can momentarily immerse myself in the world of education, even if just mentally (although this often leads to a desire for some sort of discussion group).
And I just hope that when I am a bit further down the road, I can ask friends, "are you finding meaningful things to do as you stay at home?" and when they say "no," I might actually have some advice. Some question that prompts them to find that meaning. Cause none of us should have to journey this alone. None of us should have to feel that we aren't good enough if mommy-ing isn't enough. All of us should recognize that our journeys are all different.
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