I cannot believe Rosie is a three month old. The difference between 8 weeks and 12 weeks is so drastic! I no longer have a newborn, but an awake, alert, wiggly little baby. I'm surprised at some of the newborn things I'd forgotten: those early days when they can't even purposefully move their arms so sometimes they just hang down at their sides while the baby stares into your eyes. Can you imagine not being able to control anything but your eyes or your cries? Their sweet trust and vulnerability gets to me every time.
Then we hit that fun stage where Rosie found her arms overnight, and any time we laid her on her back for about two weeks, she would just have her arms straight up in front of her, waving those little fists around, in awe that they've apparently been there the whole time. Then she spent a few days grabbing her shirt and kind of pulling it away from her body, as she experimented with what her arms could do. And now those chubby little fists have found their way to her mouth, and she's a drooly, slobbery little puddle who is trying her darnedest to sit up on her own. She's solidly in her 6 month clothes now, and it's so hard to remember that she's still a pretty tiny baby on the inside. Slow down, baby!
It's so fun to learn her different cries, too. The "pay attention to me" cry, the "I'm so tired, why aren't you putting me to bed" cry, the "I'm hungry" cry, the "I'm ticked" cry... and they're all just so so sweet. It breaks my heart that Noah mostly had an "I'm in pain" cry thanks to his reflux. The perils of being the oldest child-- I just didn't know what I didn't know when he was little! I hate that he had to suffer through that, and I will always mourn the "typical" newborn experience that he and I missed out on. But I love that we had so much Mama/Noah time to bond and connect as he got older. It's so interesting doing all of this newborn mothering the second time around. It gives me a chance to do things differently, but I'm also learning that babies themselves are so different right off the bat, and much of it (LIKE SLEEP) isn't a reflection of me as a parent.
Today I did my first postpartum Barre3 workout. I got cleared for exercise and physical therapy at 6 weeks, although I was taking 2-3 mile walks with the double stroller a few times a week starting around 4-5 weeks, because toddlers who don't want to nap in their beds are more apt to nap in the stroller! (It was kind of a bummer to come home with two well-rested kids while I, meanwhile, was exhausted and sore and all kinds of sweaty. But rested kids are WORTH IT.)
Sadly, those walks have fallen by the wayside in the past few weeks, as sleep patterns and weather patterns change. I'm reminding myself over and over again that change is the only constant in these early days. And I'd say I've been riding with it pretty well and giving myself a lot of grace up until the last week or two. I'm starting to crave routine, schedules, some semblance of normalcy. Even though Rosie isn't colicky (praise the Lord), she's still a baby! Sometimes she doesn't like to fall back asleep after eating at 3am. Sometimes she doesn't want to close her tired little eyes during Noah's rare afternoon naps. She still has witching hour when she's overtired in the evening. We still can't manage to all sit down to dinner together.
Everything changes at such a rapid pace right now, that a routine that worked well one week doesn't even begin to work the next week. I'm still figuring things out day by day. Don't even get me started on the toddler wanting to get out of the house, and the baby no longer falling asleep willy nilly while we are out and about. As with Noah, that 4-6 week developmental leap caught me by surprise with Rosie. My cuddly little newborn suddenly had opinions and didn't want to sleep all day every day. I found that right when the meal train ended and people stopped treating me like a freshly postpartum mom, is when I almost needed more support. The world thinks you're over it, but you're still recovering AND now your baby doesn't want to sleep all day AND your toddler is thoroughly sick of being home-bound. It's a rough transition.
But now we've kind of muddled our way through that. Rosie is showing signs of maybe wanting to be on a schedule, so I'm trying to figure out a good balance of getting out versus staying in. I'm crazy grateful that leaving the house and abandoning the ideal routine doesn't send me into a panic like it did when I was a first-time mom, but let's be real: it's still stressful and I'd prefer not to do it. And I'm starting to see that Noah needs some concrete interaction with me when we do stay home, because expecting him to entertain himself all morning doesn't cut it.
So here we are, in the in-between. I feel more normal, but I don't look normal and I can't fit into my old clothes. I crave balanced meals, quiet alone time, and exercise, but I can't quite make it a reality when I'm needed from 5:30am-9pm, and usually at least once or twice beyond that, too. I am a mom to a three year old and a mom to a three month old, but I'm not sure how to be both at once. And even in this season-between-seasons, I have to make myself stop and pause, because it's so so beautiful, and I don't want to wish it away. As Lisa-Jo Baker says, "mothers never want it to be over. Even the hard stuff. They may want it to stop. They may want to find room to breathe, to weep, to panic. But they don't want it to end-- this delivering, shaping, cheering, loving, bringing life into the world."
My hands are full, but so is my heart.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Friday, July 8, 2016
An Open Letter to My Son
Sweet Boy,
I would be remiss if I gave you the impression that I have sufficient cultural competency to tread these waters safely. I don't. My few attempts at stepping out on this subject have been fraught with imperfections. If you want a treatise on racial, economic, and criminal statistics, I'm not your person. But I am your mother, and what's going on in the world you're growing up in, is important. I hate knowing that some of your friends are more likely to die of violent causes than others, on the basis of skin color alone. And as your mom, nothing puts me into an emotional tailspin more than thinking of me losing you, or of you losing me.
Right now, you are delighted when you see a police car with sirens on. You love all things with wheels and motors and flashing lights. How could you know that these first two years of your life have been fraught with media coverage regarding the deteriorating relationship between men of color and white officers wearing blue?
At weddings, they often say, "what God has joined together, let no man put asunder." I keep thinking of that line today. In the last week, two black men and one Latino man have been killed via situations and methods that could be classified as police brutality. Last night, unrelated snipers retaliated by killing 5 officers at an otherwise peaceful protest several states removed from the previous crimes. That's 8 men who will never take another breath on this earth.
Noah, never forget that every human being is an image-bearer of God, knit together by the creator of the world, body and soul. None of us can claim the right to tear the body from the soul on the basis of our fear of the "other."
In an interview with Maya Angelou, the interviewer said, "It's very hard to hate someone if you look them in the eye and recognize them as a human being." Angelou responded, "Ah! You must add that: 'And recognize them as a human being.' Because people have lynched people, and people threw people in gas ovens, and they were looking them in the eye. But in order to empathize, you have to accept that 'this person is as human as I.' Once you do that, it's very hard to impose cruelty on another human being."
Fear feeds fear. Anger fuels anger. Violence leads to more violence. But love? Love begets love. Do I think that world peace is literally attainable? Not really. Not on this side of salvation history, where earth is filled with imperfect people, each and every one of us.
But will I hope and pray and work toward a cultural revolution in this country, beginning in our home? I have to. I want you to grow up in a nation where black lives matter. I say this not to the exclusion of others. Of course all lives matter. But the violence in today's news has reached a fever pitch and my heart is so heavy.
Of COURSE all lives matter. Of COURSE I want to watch the news without actually witnessing another soul depart from this world. Of COURSE I want to feel safe at the playground, sending you to school, flying on an airplane. Of course.
And of course I mourn with our black friends, and police families, and moms who lose babies at the Happiest Place on Earth, and babies who lose moms to the ills of this world. I'm scared. I'm scared that somehow I will quite literally be caught in the crossfire of hatred. I'm also scared because my full-time job is with you, raising the next generation of white middle class male, and the stakes are high.
Noah, you can make a difference. Two thousand years ago, an apostle named Paul told us to gird ourselves with the belt of truth. Roman soldiers donned their belts before all else, to support their core, to aid in endurance, to prevent injury, and to bear the weight of their other tools for protection and defense. At the end of the day, you can and must filter the truths of this world through the sieve of the Gospel truth. And that truth is love.
Sweet boy, let your love stay genuine. "Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor."
Romans 12 goes on to say,
"Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty... Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil... If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."
Noah, I don't want you to have to grow up in this racial hotbed. But I don't want you growing up 'colorblind' either. I want your life to be filled with vibrant colors, lending you a life that's richer for the depth of its hues.
Hold fast to what's good.
Love,
Mama
I would be remiss if I gave you the impression that I have sufficient cultural competency to tread these waters safely. I don't. My few attempts at stepping out on this subject have been fraught with imperfections. If you want a treatise on racial, economic, and criminal statistics, I'm not your person. But I am your mother, and what's going on in the world you're growing up in, is important. I hate knowing that some of your friends are more likely to die of violent causes than others, on the basis of skin color alone. And as your mom, nothing puts me into an emotional tailspin more than thinking of me losing you, or of you losing me.
Right now, you are delighted when you see a police car with sirens on. You love all things with wheels and motors and flashing lights. How could you know that these first two years of your life have been fraught with media coverage regarding the deteriorating relationship between men of color and white officers wearing blue?
At weddings, they often say, "what God has joined together, let no man put asunder." I keep thinking of that line today. In the last week, two black men and one Latino man have been killed via situations and methods that could be classified as police brutality. Last night, unrelated snipers retaliated by killing 5 officers at an otherwise peaceful protest several states removed from the previous crimes. That's 8 men who will never take another breath on this earth.
Noah, never forget that every human being is an image-bearer of God, knit together by the creator of the world, body and soul. None of us can claim the right to tear the body from the soul on the basis of our fear of the "other."
In an interview with Maya Angelou, the interviewer said, "It's very hard to hate someone if you look them in the eye and recognize them as a human being." Angelou responded, "Ah! You must add that: 'And recognize them as a human being.' Because people have lynched people, and people threw people in gas ovens, and they were looking them in the eye. But in order to empathize, you have to accept that 'this person is as human as I.' Once you do that, it's very hard to impose cruelty on another human being."
Fear feeds fear. Anger fuels anger. Violence leads to more violence. But love? Love begets love. Do I think that world peace is literally attainable? Not really. Not on this side of salvation history, where earth is filled with imperfect people, each and every one of us.
But will I hope and pray and work toward a cultural revolution in this country, beginning in our home? I have to. I want you to grow up in a nation where black lives matter. I say this not to the exclusion of others. Of course all lives matter. But the violence in today's news has reached a fever pitch and my heart is so heavy.
Of COURSE all lives matter. Of COURSE I want to watch the news without actually witnessing another soul depart from this world. Of COURSE I want to feel safe at the playground, sending you to school, flying on an airplane. Of course.
And of course I mourn with our black friends, and police families, and moms who lose babies at the Happiest Place on Earth, and babies who lose moms to the ills of this world. I'm scared. I'm scared that somehow I will quite literally be caught in the crossfire of hatred. I'm also scared because my full-time job is with you, raising the next generation of white middle class male, and the stakes are high.
Noah, you can make a difference. Two thousand years ago, an apostle named Paul told us to gird ourselves with the belt of truth. Roman soldiers donned their belts before all else, to support their core, to aid in endurance, to prevent injury, and to bear the weight of their other tools for protection and defense. At the end of the day, you can and must filter the truths of this world through the sieve of the Gospel truth. And that truth is love.
Sweet boy, let your love stay genuine. "Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor."
Romans 12 goes on to say,
"Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty... Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil... If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, 'Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.' Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."
Noah, I don't want you to have to grow up in this racial hotbed. But I don't want you growing up 'colorblind' either. I want your life to be filled with vibrant colors, lending you a life that's richer for the depth of its hues.
Hold fast to what's good.
Love,
Mama
Monday, February 29, 2016
Life with a 20 Month Old
I've been starting and stopping one of these every few months, and when the narrative starts to get so absurdly long, I quit halfway through the day. However, today I'm committing to embracing the crazy and documenting it in my meticulously sentimental way, because somehow Noah is on the downhill to two. Like C.S. Lewis says, "Isn't it funny how day to day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different?" I can't believe my last day-in-the-life post was in June! So much has changed since then.
0536: Noah is awake. I turn the volume off on the baby monitor and Ross and I pretend to get a bit more sleep before our alarm goes off (we have literally never ever ever woken up to an alarm for the past 20.5 months. It was wishful thinking to set one last night!)
0600: Alarm beeps and Ross gets Noah. Since we dropped morning nursing a few weeks ago, we've been trying to find a new morning rhythm. I miss staying in the warm bed and snuggling a baby while Ross did his quiet time, and then handing Noah off while I did my own quiet time! This morning, Ross gives Noah some hemp milk, changes his diaper, and offers him breakfast while I do some personal Bible study and read a parenting essay (I need to remember why it's so important to be concise, direct, and loving with my boundaries when I'm picking up a boneless child mid-meltdown and all I really want to do is scream). Noah used to be on a muffin, smoothie, AND banana kick at breakfast, but now he's down to just the banana. Who knows.
0630: We trade off. I hang out with Noah and warm up my own breakfast and coffee while Ross has some quiet time.
0700: I run to the bathroom really quick and come back to Ross vacuuming up the dried thyme from the bottle that Noah swiped from the pantry, unscrewed, and dumped out.
0730: I throw the cloth diapers in the washer to start a load. Noah keeps begging for a popsicle from the freezer, so I distract him by letting him play with pots and pans while I attempt to eat a warm breakfast. Ross leaves for work. I give Noah a Larabar because he's acting hungry now.
0800: I finally finish the last of my coffee and breakfast, read to Noah, and browse for couches on the NFM Leap Day sale website.
0830: Pack to go to the gym. Noah immediately finds his applesauce pouch in the gym back and wants to eat it. I open it and he slurps it down.
0840: We leave for the gym.
0900: I check Noah into childcare and breathe. Whew! Joining the community center last month and going twice a week was seriously the best thing we ever did with Christmas money. Since we don't have family in town, 3 hours/week of gym childcare is literally my only respite when I might otherwise have a meltdown of my own some weeks. I love Noah, and I'm a much better mom when I get a tiny breather. I still feel a little guilty, but I also feel a whole lot more relieved and energized on the days we manage to get out of the house to get to the community center. Noah always says, "'rains and nunnels! Oh my!" (aka "trains and tunnels") and runs to the childcare room when we arrive, so I know it's hardly a chore for him. He likes the change of scenery, too!
0905: I sit in the hot tub (my aching back is a huge fan), go through my email, and study a bit for the IBCLC exam.
0930: I jump in the cold pool really quick and see Noah running around in the childcare area. He seems me, and a look of total delight and surprise crosses his face as he pounds the glass and shouts, "Mama!" I wave and blow him a kiss, and the older kids in the crowd Noah quickly gathers around him blow kisses back at me. Thankfully the childcare lady ushers the kids away from the window, and she later reassured me that no meltdowns were involved after the Mama sighting. Goober!
0945: I've changed into gym clothes and I do a quick workout.
1015: I get Noah out of childcare quickly because we have to rush to the chiropractor to make it to our 1030 appointment. On the way out, Noah tries to escape, runs into the garden, trips, and very narrowly averts a more serious kind of doctor's visit. Thankfully instead of smacking his head on the rock wall he tripped on, he twists at the last minute and manages to only scrape his cheek and get woodchips everywhere. We say thank you to Jesus, and hustle to the car.
1033: We made it! Noah plays with the toy kitchen at the chiropractor's office while I get adjusted. Then it's Noah's turn. Man he loves the chiro. Today he so sweetly climbs right up on the table, facedown, and so docile-ly lays his head down and waits for his adjustment. He must know he needs it! Last week he fell 4 feet down head-first onto tile and earned a lovely goose egg. He's been running diagonally ever since! He's full speed (straight) ahead after his adjustment.
1130: We are home for lunch and we obviously crammed too much into our morning, because it's meltdown city for my tired, hungry toddler. I change him into his naptime diaper and then put him in his high chair for lunch. He inhales gluten-free chicken nuggets, gluten-free pretzels, and plantain chips, all dipped into either salsa or almond butter. He loves dipping things! He totally discards the roasted butternut squash. I thought he would love it since it's so similar to his beloved sweet potatoes!
1200: I move the diapers to the dryer and take a quick shower. Can't handle gym germs.
1220: I have no one to blame but myself for the fact that the house is in total disarray now. Noah has also wiggled enough to make another stinky diaper, so I change it and rinse it out while more chaos ensues.
1230: Noah is shouting "nuk and 'nuggles!" and I'm finally able to acquiesce since we're all cleaned and fed.
1245: Noah is asleep. He almost NEVER used to fall asleep in my arms until he dropped to 1 nap at 15 months. Now this is my favorite part of the day.
1310: Noah wiggles and wakes up briefly, so I put him in his crib and he drowsily curls up to resume his nap. I love it.
1330: I eat lunch and watch 2 episodes of the Mindy Show on Hulu. I would love to say that I'm a productivity wizard during naptime, but that's SO not the case. I need a break, too! Every now and then I'm 100% lazy or 100% productive, but it's usually a mix of the two.
1415: I text with a friend a bit, look up two recipes online, and then sit down to start typing this epic novel. I'm hoping Noah takes a delightfully long post-chiropractor nap (like, the elusive 3 hour nap I always dream of).
1520: I close the laptop and start to tidy my perpetually messy desk. I literally have nowhere else to place paperwork, so it piles up quickly. #smallhouseproblems
1521: Just kidding. Noah's up.
1530: Noah runs straight to the freezer asking for a Pedialyte popsicle. I have no doubt he remembers me telling him this morning that he could have one after his nap, so I give him one while I get the diapers out of the dryer and throw some laundry in the washer (THANK GOD for modern appliances)!
1600: Noah and I bake some granola bars for a friend. He simultaneously drinks coconut yogurt out of a cookie cup and adds pepper to the yogurt dregs so he can cook, too.
1615: Change Noah's diaper and clothes.
1630: Play outside! We noticed the first robin of the year in our yard yesterday, and when Noah went outside today, he just stood and looked up in amazement and said, "bird tweet tweet... in the tree!" I love his little voice. And that "tweet" is the cutest!
1705: Head back inside (to Noah's chagrin) to start dinner. Noah and I sample one of the homemade granola bars we made and I start dinner (Mel Joulwan's salmon cakes and Trader Joe's broccoli and kale salad).
1740: "Yay Papa back!" Ross takes Noah back outside while I finish dinner and start tidying up.
1810: We all eat. Noah took one bite of salmon cake, and kept trying to eat the kale but couldn't chew it. Ross deemed the salmon acceptable enough to eat sans modifications, so yay! The recipe is a keeper.
1835: Ross takes Noah to shower while I do the dishes.
1845: We tag-team diaper, Aquaphor application, and pajamas. Noah insists on wearing PJs that are a size too big, but they have trucks on them so they win (and I'm shocked that they're really not that big on my baby!)
1855: Nursing session.
1910: Brush teeth, read stories, put Noah down in his crib. He sits and drinks water for a bit but lays down pretty quickly. Today wore both of us out!
1920: Sadly, Ross had to go back to work for a bit, so I grab a snack, catch up on texts, add to this post, etc. I know that today isn't anything special to other moms of toddlers, and heck it's probably calm compared to moms with multiples! But dang even reading through this makes me tired. Perspective is always good for me: instead of focusing on everything that I DON'T do, or don't do right, or don't do well, I get a glimpse of what I DO do, which is love this silly goose.
2100: Dude I didn't mean to waste so much time. I'm so tired! I always have grand plans of being productive once Noah's asleep, but I'm always too wiped out. (But too cute... He's asleep with his bear, puppy, quilt, water, and one of his books tonight!) I do physical therapy and then get ready for bed.
2145: Ross is home again, poor guy.
2245: I finally go to bed. Why do I do this to myself?! It's like I'm so tired by the end of the day I can't even do what I need to do to go to bed on time. Whew!
0536: Noah is awake. I turn the volume off on the baby monitor and Ross and I pretend to get a bit more sleep before our alarm goes off (we have literally never ever ever woken up to an alarm for the past 20.5 months. It was wishful thinking to set one last night!)
0600: Alarm beeps and Ross gets Noah. Since we dropped morning nursing a few weeks ago, we've been trying to find a new morning rhythm. I miss staying in the warm bed and snuggling a baby while Ross did his quiet time, and then handing Noah off while I did my own quiet time! This morning, Ross gives Noah some hemp milk, changes his diaper, and offers him breakfast while I do some personal Bible study and read a parenting essay (I need to remember why it's so important to be concise, direct, and loving with my boundaries when I'm picking up a boneless child mid-meltdown and all I really want to do is scream). Noah used to be on a muffin, smoothie, AND banana kick at breakfast, but now he's down to just the banana. Who knows.
0630: We trade off. I hang out with Noah and warm up my own breakfast and coffee while Ross has some quiet time.
0700: I run to the bathroom really quick and come back to Ross vacuuming up the dried thyme from the bottle that Noah swiped from the pantry, unscrewed, and dumped out.
0730: I throw the cloth diapers in the washer to start a load. Noah keeps begging for a popsicle from the freezer, so I distract him by letting him play with pots and pans while I attempt to eat a warm breakfast. Ross leaves for work. I give Noah a Larabar because he's acting hungry now.
0800: I finally finish the last of my coffee and breakfast, read to Noah, and browse for couches on the NFM Leap Day sale website.
0830: Pack to go to the gym. Noah immediately finds his applesauce pouch in the gym back and wants to eat it. I open it and he slurps it down.
0840: We leave for the gym.
0900: I check Noah into childcare and breathe. Whew! Joining the community center last month and going twice a week was seriously the best thing we ever did with Christmas money. Since we don't have family in town, 3 hours/week of gym childcare is literally my only respite when I might otherwise have a meltdown of my own some weeks. I love Noah, and I'm a much better mom when I get a tiny breather. I still feel a little guilty, but I also feel a whole lot more relieved and energized on the days we manage to get out of the house to get to the community center. Noah always says, "'rains and nunnels! Oh my!" (aka "trains and tunnels") and runs to the childcare room when we arrive, so I know it's hardly a chore for him. He likes the change of scenery, too!
0905: I sit in the hot tub (my aching back is a huge fan), go through my email, and study a bit for the IBCLC exam.
0930: I jump in the cold pool really quick and see Noah running around in the childcare area. He seems me, and a look of total delight and surprise crosses his face as he pounds the glass and shouts, "Mama!" I wave and blow him a kiss, and the older kids in the crowd Noah quickly gathers around him blow kisses back at me. Thankfully the childcare lady ushers the kids away from the window, and she later reassured me that no meltdowns were involved after the Mama sighting. Goober!
0945: I've changed into gym clothes and I do a quick workout.
1015: I get Noah out of childcare quickly because we have to rush to the chiropractor to make it to our 1030 appointment. On the way out, Noah tries to escape, runs into the garden, trips, and very narrowly averts a more serious kind of doctor's visit. Thankfully instead of smacking his head on the rock wall he tripped on, he twists at the last minute and manages to only scrape his cheek and get woodchips everywhere. We say thank you to Jesus, and hustle to the car.
1033: We made it! Noah plays with the toy kitchen at the chiropractor's office while I get adjusted. Then it's Noah's turn. Man he loves the chiro. Today he so sweetly climbs right up on the table, facedown, and so docile-ly lays his head down and waits for his adjustment. He must know he needs it! Last week he fell 4 feet down head-first onto tile and earned a lovely goose egg. He's been running diagonally ever since! He's full speed (straight) ahead after his adjustment.
1130: We are home for lunch and we obviously crammed too much into our morning, because it's meltdown city for my tired, hungry toddler. I change him into his naptime diaper and then put him in his high chair for lunch. He inhales gluten-free chicken nuggets, gluten-free pretzels, and plantain chips, all dipped into either salsa or almond butter. He loves dipping things! He totally discards the roasted butternut squash. I thought he would love it since it's so similar to his beloved sweet potatoes!
1200: I move the diapers to the dryer and take a quick shower. Can't handle gym germs.
1220: I have no one to blame but myself for the fact that the house is in total disarray now. Noah has also wiggled enough to make another stinky diaper, so I change it and rinse it out while more chaos ensues.
1230: Noah is shouting "nuk and 'nuggles!" and I'm finally able to acquiesce since we're all cleaned and fed.
1245: Noah is asleep. He almost NEVER used to fall asleep in my arms until he dropped to 1 nap at 15 months. Now this is my favorite part of the day.
1310: Noah wiggles and wakes up briefly, so I put him in his crib and he drowsily curls up to resume his nap. I love it.
1330: I eat lunch and watch 2 episodes of the Mindy Show on Hulu. I would love to say that I'm a productivity wizard during naptime, but that's SO not the case. I need a break, too! Every now and then I'm 100% lazy or 100% productive, but it's usually a mix of the two.
1415: I text with a friend a bit, look up two recipes online, and then sit down to start typing this epic novel. I'm hoping Noah takes a delightfully long post-chiropractor nap (like, the elusive 3 hour nap I always dream of).
1520: I close the laptop and start to tidy my perpetually messy desk. I literally have nowhere else to place paperwork, so it piles up quickly. #smallhouseproblems
1521: Just kidding. Noah's up.
1530: Noah runs straight to the freezer asking for a Pedialyte popsicle. I have no doubt he remembers me telling him this morning that he could have one after his nap, so I give him one while I get the diapers out of the dryer and throw some laundry in the washer (THANK GOD for modern appliances)!
1600: Noah and I bake some granola bars for a friend. He simultaneously drinks coconut yogurt out of a cookie cup and adds pepper to the yogurt dregs so he can cook, too.
1615: Change Noah's diaper and clothes.
1630: Play outside! We noticed the first robin of the year in our yard yesterday, and when Noah went outside today, he just stood and looked up in amazement and said, "bird tweet tweet... in the tree!" I love his little voice. And that "tweet" is the cutest!
1705: Head back inside (to Noah's chagrin) to start dinner. Noah and I sample one of the homemade granola bars we made and I start dinner (Mel Joulwan's salmon cakes and Trader Joe's broccoli and kale salad).
1740: "Yay Papa back!" Ross takes Noah back outside while I finish dinner and start tidying up.
1810: We all eat. Noah took one bite of salmon cake, and kept trying to eat the kale but couldn't chew it. Ross deemed the salmon acceptable enough to eat sans modifications, so yay! The recipe is a keeper.
1835: Ross takes Noah to shower while I do the dishes.
1845: We tag-team diaper, Aquaphor application, and pajamas. Noah insists on wearing PJs that are a size too big, but they have trucks on them so they win (and I'm shocked that they're really not that big on my baby!)
1855: Nursing session.
1910: Brush teeth, read stories, put Noah down in his crib. He sits and drinks water for a bit but lays down pretty quickly. Today wore both of us out!
1920: Sadly, Ross had to go back to work for a bit, so I grab a snack, catch up on texts, add to this post, etc. I know that today isn't anything special to other moms of toddlers, and heck it's probably calm compared to moms with multiples! But dang even reading through this makes me tired. Perspective is always good for me: instead of focusing on everything that I DON'T do, or don't do right, or don't do well, I get a glimpse of what I DO do, which is love this silly goose.
2100: Dude I didn't mean to waste so much time. I'm so tired! I always have grand plans of being productive once Noah's asleep, but I'm always too wiped out. (But too cute... He's asleep with his bear, puppy, quilt, water, and one of his books tonight!) I do physical therapy and then get ready for bed.
2145: Ross is home again, poor guy.
2245: I finally go to bed. Why do I do this to myself?! It's like I'm so tired by the end of the day I can't even do what I need to do to go to bed on time. Whew!
Thursday, June 18, 2015
Toddlerhood Begins
Every two to three months, Noah and I get into a sweet little rhythm. Our routine is established. He knows what's coming, I know what's coming. We're both happy and pleased to be hanging out with each other. Our days feel effortless. (Okay, maybe not effortless. But the predictability goes a long way with me.)
This pattern usually coincides with an increase in sleep on his end. It's safe to say that sleep has been a struggle for us. Nighttime sleep, yes. But almost more so, daytime sleep. I think it's not an exaggeration to say that Noah has only taken the prescribed number of naps for his age, oh, 50% of the time? We will really struggle for a month or two and then have a little breakthrough and enjoy two naps a day for a good stretch. He'll catch up on sleep, and then go through some astounding mental leap and we will have to learn a new rhythm for this new baby with new skills.
The first few rounds of this, I just remember thinking, "Oh my GOD. This is what it's like to have a baby who naps. I should do all the things!" And then I end up napping when he naps for several days in a row, because keeping up with him is hard work.
After going through this pattern around 8-9 months, though, I was able to put two and two together and realize something was about to change. Sure enough, my sweet baby became mobile and life was never the same. I will say that every stage is progressively more fun, but it's hard for me to not mourn the baby stages we're rapidly leaving behind.
Today, we're a few days into what I can tell is the next round of development. I glance at the monitor and see my baby napping with his fluffy butt up in the air, and I tear up a little. Because you know what? Today is sweet, and I can tell it's all about to change.
For some reason, this approaching change has really been getting to me. Noah is much more steady on his feet these days, and he's getting brave. I can tell it's only a matter of time before he goes from toddling between people and objects, to walking full-time. I can also tell we're starting the slow transition from two naps to one.
Is it ridiculous? This is really hard for me. I have a lot of guilt around Noah's naps because I feel like I don't use that time effectively. Part of me says, "you only have one kid once. Enjoy the break! You won't necessarily get it when you have more than one." The other part of me is so confused as to why I have so much on my to-do list and so much theoretical free time each day. I could've been working out and doing Bible study every single day for the past year! Wait. He hasn't napped like this for the past year. But still, it's a guilt trip when he does.
I was catching up on Touchpoints this morning, and the 12 month segment said this, "Not all babies become independent suddenly and dramatically. But when they do, I am always glad to see it. This is another touchpoint and parents will come to see the progress it represents. Though it means the simple intimacy of the first year is changing and becoming more complex, the burst of autonomy is normal and healthy. A baby's struggle to express himself and to find out his own limits will go on for many years, reaching different levels and different ages... This surge toward independence and the negativism that accompanies it starts with walking. This marks a particularly intense touchpoint, an extraoirdinary growth spurt for the child, and a trying challenge for all parents... (At this time) the close interaction between motor achievements and emotional development becomes apparent... The drive to master standing and walking upsets all the daily rhythms. Two naps, which have been predictable before, become less so."
Noah's 8:30am and 1pm routine is certainly shaken up this week. But for once it's because he's sleeping more! This week, hee's not really ready for a nap at 1 if he actually slept until 11! So, deep breath. Here we go.
This pattern usually coincides with an increase in sleep on his end. It's safe to say that sleep has been a struggle for us. Nighttime sleep, yes. But almost more so, daytime sleep. I think it's not an exaggeration to say that Noah has only taken the prescribed number of naps for his age, oh, 50% of the time? We will really struggle for a month or two and then have a little breakthrough and enjoy two naps a day for a good stretch. He'll catch up on sleep, and then go through some astounding mental leap and we will have to learn a new rhythm for this new baby with new skills.
The first few rounds of this, I just remember thinking, "Oh my GOD. This is what it's like to have a baby who naps. I should do all the things!" And then I end up napping when he naps for several days in a row, because keeping up with him is hard work.
After going through this pattern around 8-9 months, though, I was able to put two and two together and realize something was about to change. Sure enough, my sweet baby became mobile and life was never the same. I will say that every stage is progressively more fun, but it's hard for me to not mourn the baby stages we're rapidly leaving behind.
Today, we're a few days into what I can tell is the next round of development. I glance at the monitor and see my baby napping with his fluffy butt up in the air, and I tear up a little. Because you know what? Today is sweet, and I can tell it's all about to change.
For some reason, this approaching change has really been getting to me. Noah is much more steady on his feet these days, and he's getting brave. I can tell it's only a matter of time before he goes from toddling between people and objects, to walking full-time. I can also tell we're starting the slow transition from two naps to one.
Is it ridiculous? This is really hard for me. I have a lot of guilt around Noah's naps because I feel like I don't use that time effectively. Part of me says, "you only have one kid once. Enjoy the break! You won't necessarily get it when you have more than one." The other part of me is so confused as to why I have so much on my to-do list and so much theoretical free time each day. I could've been working out and doing Bible study every single day for the past year! Wait. He hasn't napped like this for the past year. But still, it's a guilt trip when he does.
I was catching up on Touchpoints this morning, and the 12 month segment said this, "Not all babies become independent suddenly and dramatically. But when they do, I am always glad to see it. This is another touchpoint and parents will come to see the progress it represents. Though it means the simple intimacy of the first year is changing and becoming more complex, the burst of autonomy is normal and healthy. A baby's struggle to express himself and to find out his own limits will go on for many years, reaching different levels and different ages... This surge toward independence and the negativism that accompanies it starts with walking. This marks a particularly intense touchpoint, an extraoirdinary growth spurt for the child, and a trying challenge for all parents... (At this time) the close interaction between motor achievements and emotional development becomes apparent... The drive to master standing and walking upsets all the daily rhythms. Two naps, which have been predictable before, become less so."
Noah's 8:30am and 1pm routine is certainly shaken up this week. But for once it's because he's sleeping more! This week, hee's not really ready for a nap at 1 if he actually slept until 11! So, deep breath. Here we go.
Sunday, May 10, 2015
Before I Was a Mom, I Was the Best Mom
I read a blog post by this same title a few months ago, and it continues to resonate with me.
I knew motherhood was hard, but I didn't KNOW it was hard. It's beautiful, and life-giving in every way, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. But just like everyone said it would be, it's humbling, it's exhausting, it's exhilarating, it's terrifying. I've been an emotional wreck as I climb this steep learning curve of new-motherhood.
Because see, I thought that the first 6-12 months of motherhood were going to be so easy. Exhausting, yes, but not unmanageable. I thought I'd rock it. I take care of babies for a living! Toddlers are where the mystery begins, right? Um no.
I should've know better when, for the first 24 hours of labor, I was pretty sure it wasn't real labor. My due date wasn't for 10 more days, but more than that, I wasn't READY! Initially, I blamed the chaos on that early surprise. The house wasn't finished. My non-maternity clothes weren't unpacked. Heck, the baby's crib wasn't even assembled! But now, 11 months later, I can see that it would've been difficult no matter what. (And I'm just now unpacking the last of my non-maternity clothes. Ha!)
Yes, I take care of babies for a living, but I didn't factor in the hormones (ohhh the hormones), the postpartum anxiety, the 5 months of relentless pain. I didn't know that breastfeeding would be a full-time job for the first 6 weeks (seriously, 8 hours a day). I didn't realize that just because you know your baby isn't desperately NICU-level sick, doesn't mean you don't question every little cry, quirk, and squeak. I didn't anticipate how much harder it would be when the baby is YOURS. When your heart and mind and body and soul are invested in this unpredictable little being.
I mean, for the first 6 weeks, it took everything in me to let anyone beside Ross hold Noah without me wanting to snatch him back into my arms. For the first 3 months, it made me overly anxious if Noah was out of my line of vision. For 6 months, I couldn't hear Noah cry without wanting to cry myself (and there was a lot of crying on both ends!)
Today I sit here totally identifying with Ann Voskamp's words:
I didn't know motherhood would make me doubt everything. I didn't know it would challenge my endurance and patience from the start. I didn't know that I could feel like such a spectacular failure on a daily basis.
But I also didn't know how much more I would love this baby who is my own. I don't take the honor of being his mother lightly. In fact, that's probably why I'm so hard on myself. This is real life. A real person. So impressionable. So dependent. The stakes are high. The calling is higher. I can only do this by, in turn, being dependent on One who is above me. By learning to rest in my own Provider when I can't do something alone. By remembering that He cares for me and has my best interest at heart, even when I don't understand. A mom's love for her baby has given me a beautiful glimpse into this kind of love God has for us. Thankfully, His love is steady and unfailing when mine is not.
On this, my first real Mother's Day, with Noah's first birthday on the imminent horizon, I have a lot to be thankful for.
Thank God for my mom, who put up with me being a 4am riser for my first year. History repeats itself, eh? She's been such a good listener through my anxiety, and as a mother of 4 with a husband who was a medical resident and then young doctor, she did motherhood with everything she had. Harder and better. I have the best role model. And I grew up with some pretty awesome grandmothers as well.
Thank God for friends who take my panicked texts into stride and continue to pour out love and advice without laughing at me (or... at least not in front of me)!
Thank God for a doula who has taken my worried phone calls for months, and never fails to strike the perfect balance between super natural crunchy mama and, well, common sense, that resonates with me.
Thank God for physical therapy and the emotional clarity that started to resume once I wasn't in a steady state of pain.
It does take a village to raise a child, and I'm so thankful for mine.
Happy Mother's Day to the one who made me...
...and to the one who made me a mother!
It's sure easy to judge when we're not in it... I thought about this the other day when I saw an old photo of myself, holding my friend's little one. It's so funny how the years fly by-- I can still remember being so young and wondering what it would be like to be a parent, and now I'm a mom... I'm in it. I'm doing it. And of course, all of the things I said I'd never do, well here we are, doing most of them. Parenting is crazy like that, it kind of forces you to take a long look at yourself and the way you do things, and constantly question it all-- is this for the best? Is this working? It's been four years now, and the longer I do it, the more I realize that a big dose of kindness and understanding goes a long way, for both myself and for the parents around me, doing their thing too.
I knew motherhood was hard, but I didn't KNOW it was hard. It's beautiful, and life-giving in every way, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. But just like everyone said it would be, it's humbling, it's exhausting, it's exhilarating, it's terrifying. I've been an emotional wreck as I climb this steep learning curve of new-motherhood.
Because see, I thought that the first 6-12 months of motherhood were going to be so easy. Exhausting, yes, but not unmanageable. I thought I'd rock it. I take care of babies for a living! Toddlers are where the mystery begins, right? Um no.
I should've know better when, for the first 24 hours of labor, I was pretty sure it wasn't real labor. My due date wasn't for 10 more days, but more than that, I wasn't READY! Initially, I blamed the chaos on that early surprise. The house wasn't finished. My non-maternity clothes weren't unpacked. Heck, the baby's crib wasn't even assembled! But now, 11 months later, I can see that it would've been difficult no matter what. (And I'm just now unpacking the last of my non-maternity clothes. Ha!)
Yes, I take care of babies for a living, but I didn't factor in the hormones (ohhh the hormones), the postpartum anxiety, the 5 months of relentless pain. I didn't know that breastfeeding would be a full-time job for the first 6 weeks (seriously, 8 hours a day). I didn't realize that just because you know your baby isn't desperately NICU-level sick, doesn't mean you don't question every little cry, quirk, and squeak. I didn't anticipate how much harder it would be when the baby is YOURS. When your heart and mind and body and soul are invested in this unpredictable little being.
I mean, for the first 6 weeks, it took everything in me to let anyone beside Ross hold Noah without me wanting to snatch him back into my arms. For the first 3 months, it made me overly anxious if Noah was out of my line of vision. For 6 months, I couldn't hear Noah cry without wanting to cry myself (and there was a lot of crying on both ends!)
Today I sit here totally identifying with Ann Voskamp's words:
Yeah — if you’re being gut honest here — you don’t really want the cards or the flowers.
Or what gets wrapped up in shiny paper, or stuffed in a bag with wrinkled tissue paper, or anything that gets tied up and presented with these dangling tendrils of curling ribbon.
What you really wanted is to be extraordinarily, obviously, good at this. At this mothering thing.
You wanted to be the best at this.
You wanted to take the podium and gold medal in mothering — not take a million timeouts behind some locked bathroom door, turn on the water so no one hears you sobbing at what a mess this whole shebang is, and how you’d like to run away. Ask me how I know?
Honest? You wanted to be more... Never once did you ask to come stumbling into this with all this baggage — all these unhealthy-coping mechanisms, all these triggers, all this unspoken broken.
What you really want, desperately, wildly, in spite of everything — is for them to remember the good…. to remember enough of the times you whispered, “I Love You” … to know how many times you broke your heart and how how hard you really tried.
All you want? Is for them to feel a deep sense of safety, that they are safe to trust people, safe to dream large, safe to believe, safe to try, safe to love large and go fly — and you need to know that you haven’t wrecked that. That they feel the certain, tender embrace of your love —- in spite of all the storming times you acted unlovely.
I didn't know motherhood would make me doubt everything. I didn't know it would challenge my endurance and patience from the start. I didn't know that I could feel like such a spectacular failure on a daily basis.
But I also didn't know how much more I would love this baby who is my own. I don't take the honor of being his mother lightly. In fact, that's probably why I'm so hard on myself. This is real life. A real person. So impressionable. So dependent. The stakes are high. The calling is higher. I can only do this by, in turn, being dependent on One who is above me. By learning to rest in my own Provider when I can't do something alone. By remembering that He cares for me and has my best interest at heart, even when I don't understand. A mom's love for her baby has given me a beautiful glimpse into this kind of love God has for us. Thankfully, His love is steady and unfailing when mine is not.
On this, my first real Mother's Day, with Noah's first birthday on the imminent horizon, I have a lot to be thankful for.
Thank God for my mom, who put up with me being a 4am riser for my first year. History repeats itself, eh? She's been such a good listener through my anxiety, and as a mother of 4 with a husband who was a medical resident and then young doctor, she did motherhood with everything she had. Harder and better. I have the best role model. And I grew up with some pretty awesome grandmothers as well.
Thank God for friends who take my panicked texts into stride and continue to pour out love and advice without laughing at me (or... at least not in front of me)!
Thank God for a doula who has taken my worried phone calls for months, and never fails to strike the perfect balance between super natural crunchy mama and, well, common sense, that resonates with me.
Thank God for physical therapy and the emotional clarity that started to resume once I wasn't in a steady state of pain.
It does take a village to raise a child, and I'm so thankful for mine.
Happy Mother's Day to the one who made me...
...and to the one who made me a mother!
Monday, September 8, 2014
Back to Work
Thirteen weeks off of work is a complete luxury. So luxurious that it balances out the ludicrous stress of 100% unpaid "maternity leave." BUT I'd do it again in a heartbeat, and I feel really good about the part-time hours I'm working for now. SO thankful to have flexibility in my career.
That being said, 13 weeks felt never-ending when it started. I don't really sleep for more than 3 hours at a time yet, so it certainly hasn't felt like a vacation, but my return to work flat-out SNUCK UP on me. Rude. It actually came a little sooner than anticipated. My manager texted me at the end of August saying, "by the way, one of your certifications expired and you need to renew it before you can work again." Oops. So Noah and I went to a 5-hour STABLE class the first Tuesday of September. It was actually a nice way to ease back in.
Then, Saturday night came. My parents were in town and helped Ross out a lot over the weekend! But I still didn't take a nap beforehand because this kid doesn't do naps in general. Also, I was super anxious. Then 4pm came and I was EXHAUSTED and so SAD and I just started sobbing. Poor Ross. "Me going back to work means Noah is OLD! It's going too FAST! I can't stay awake ALL NIGHT! I'm so TIRED!" Seriously. Every one of those feelings was legit and heart-wrenching.
But I got dressed. ("Last time I wore scrubs I was in LABOR!") (Although these particular pants hadn't fit me since the first trimester. Yay!)
Thawed milk for Noah to eat overnight. ("He was so little back in July!")
Packed my extra bags so I could pump.
And said goodbye to my favorite tired baby.
The whole drive to work, though, I kept feeling like I was forgetting something. I was fully clothed, I had my badge, my lunch, my water bottle, my pumping stuff, and my purse. Oh but wait. I don't have my BABY. He's only been coming to work with me for the past year!
I missed his post-coffee dance parties. I missed rubbing my belly out of habit as I walked down the hall. It was weird. But it went okay. I think eventually I was too tired to be sad. By the time I got home and went to bed, I'd been up for something like 30 hours and of course, the last full night of sleep I got was 3.5 months ago, so there's that. But we did it. I got lots of sweet, sweet grins from our bald baby when I got home, and Ross survived a night of solo parenting.
Can't ask for more than that!
That being said, 13 weeks felt never-ending when it started. I don't really sleep for more than 3 hours at a time yet, so it certainly hasn't felt like a vacation, but my return to work flat-out SNUCK UP on me. Rude. It actually came a little sooner than anticipated. My manager texted me at the end of August saying, "by the way, one of your certifications expired and you need to renew it before you can work again." Oops. So Noah and I went to a 5-hour STABLE class the first Tuesday of September. It was actually a nice way to ease back in.
Then, Saturday night came. My parents were in town and helped Ross out a lot over the weekend! But I still didn't take a nap beforehand because this kid doesn't do naps in general. Also, I was super anxious. Then 4pm came and I was EXHAUSTED and so SAD and I just started sobbing. Poor Ross. "Me going back to work means Noah is OLD! It's going too FAST! I can't stay awake ALL NIGHT! I'm so TIRED!" Seriously. Every one of those feelings was legit and heart-wrenching.
But I got dressed. ("Last time I wore scrubs I was in LABOR!") (Although these particular pants hadn't fit me since the first trimester. Yay!)
Thawed milk for Noah to eat overnight. ("He was so little back in July!")
Packed my extra bags so I could pump.
And said goodbye to my favorite tired baby.
The whole drive to work, though, I kept feeling like I was forgetting something. I was fully clothed, I had my badge, my lunch, my water bottle, my pumping stuff, and my purse. Oh but wait. I don't have my BABY. He's only been coming to work with me for the past year!
I missed his post-coffee dance parties. I missed rubbing my belly out of habit as I walked down the hall. It was weird. But it went okay. I think eventually I was too tired to be sad. By the time I got home and went to bed, I'd been up for something like 30 hours and of course, the last full night of sleep I got was 3.5 months ago, so there's that. But we did it. I got lots of sweet, sweet grins from our bald baby when I got home, and Ross survived a night of solo parenting.
Can't ask for more than that!
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Links I'm Loving
You know when you have so many browser windows open that you can't shut your computer down at night because you want to "save" or "re-read" or "make" whatever's pulled up in one of a dozen tabs? No? Just me?
Well, I've accumulated quite a list of noteworthy reads lately so I thought I'd share. Some relate to parenting, some relate to life, and some are just funny. Here's what I've been reading online lately:
Why Stretch Marks Aren't as Bad as You Think {Lindsay's List}
A welcome reminder that yeah, my body isn't going to be the same after these 40 weeks. But that's a good thing!
It Won't Be Long Now {Raechel Myers}
On losing babies and remembering that God's idea of time is so very different from ours.
Who is Coming Behind You {Naptime Diaries}
I LOVED this post. I'm struggling with feeling compelled to encourage newlyweds to have a realistic view of 'happily ever after' while simultaneously being excited/terrified of becoming a mom and finding that only the positive comments are helpful right now. Jessi hit the nail on the head with this one.
It Doesn't Have to Have a Point {Naptime Diaries}
I'm still struggling to learn what real rest looks like. This post gives me a glimpse of it: "There doesn't have to be a point, but there can be a purpose."
Kid President's Letter to a Person on their First Day Here {You Tube}
Seriously, if you don't visit any of these other links, visit this one. It'll brighten your day!
Life Lately {Yes I Want Cake}
Posts like this make me so excited to be a mom.
But Why Does She Get Babies? {Natasha Metzler}
Because when you work with all women, many of them will be struggling to get pregnant. And when you all take care of sick babies, some of whom are born unplanned, unwanted, and uncared for, someone is bound to ask this question. Also a good reminder of what all of us are called to do, babies or not.
The Problem With "Just Adopt" {Lauren Casper}
Because adoption and infertility are sometimes mutually exclusive. The end is the same (you have a kid!) but sometimes the calling behind them is quite different. Something to think about next time you're talking to a friend who can't get pregnant and desperately wants to be a mom.
Let Them Come Home {John and Abraham Piper}
A wonderful "prodigal son" story reminding me that how you raise someone isn't always the way in which they go. Love them anyway.
The New Church Lady {Pearls and Grace}
Are you as a Christian more known for what you stand for, or what you stand against?
The One Thing Christians Should Stop Saying {The Accidental Missionary}
I've mentioned before that the word "blessing" doesn't always sit quite right with me. This is a good little post discussing it a bit more in depth.
Turn it Around {The Fitnessista}
This post actually discusses post-partum wellness in light of the "What's Your Excuse?" guilt trip that's been going around the internet. Pregnancy has been a bit of an equalizer for me, and quite a lesson in humility. I've never been so out of control of my body-- but that's a good thing! I certainly don't know the millions of details that go into growing a baby! I'm very thankful my body seems to be doing that on its own without my conscious help. Anyway, it's also made me realize that all of those "I won't be like that" ideals I had about pregnancy and parenthood (and who knows what else) aren't always in your power to control, and it's really not fair to judge someone unless you're willing to walk in their shoes.
Well, I've accumulated quite a list of noteworthy reads lately so I thought I'd share. Some relate to parenting, some relate to life, and some are just funny. Here's what I've been reading online lately:
Why Stretch Marks Aren't as Bad as You Think {Lindsay's List}
A welcome reminder that yeah, my body isn't going to be the same after these 40 weeks. But that's a good thing!
It Won't Be Long Now {Raechel Myers}
On losing babies and remembering that God's idea of time is so very different from ours.
Who is Coming Behind You {Naptime Diaries}
I LOVED this post. I'm struggling with feeling compelled to encourage newlyweds to have a realistic view of 'happily ever after' while simultaneously being excited/terrified of becoming a mom and finding that only the positive comments are helpful right now. Jessi hit the nail on the head with this one.
It Doesn't Have to Have a Point {Naptime Diaries}
I'm still struggling to learn what real rest looks like. This post gives me a glimpse of it: "There doesn't have to be a point, but there can be a purpose."
Kid President's Letter to a Person on their First Day Here {You Tube}
Seriously, if you don't visit any of these other links, visit this one. It'll brighten your day!
Life Lately {Yes I Want Cake}
Posts like this make me so excited to be a mom.
But Why Does She Get Babies? {Natasha Metzler}
Because when you work with all women, many of them will be struggling to get pregnant. And when you all take care of sick babies, some of whom are born unplanned, unwanted, and uncared for, someone is bound to ask this question. Also a good reminder of what all of us are called to do, babies or not.
The Problem With "Just Adopt" {Lauren Casper}
Because adoption and infertility are sometimes mutually exclusive. The end is the same (you have a kid!) but sometimes the calling behind them is quite different. Something to think about next time you're talking to a friend who can't get pregnant and desperately wants to be a mom.
Let Them Come Home {John and Abraham Piper}
A wonderful "prodigal son" story reminding me that how you raise someone isn't always the way in which they go. Love them anyway.
The New Church Lady {Pearls and Grace}
Are you as a Christian more known for what you stand for, or what you stand against?
The One Thing Christians Should Stop Saying {The Accidental Missionary}
I've mentioned before that the word "blessing" doesn't always sit quite right with me. This is a good little post discussing it a bit more in depth.
Turn it Around {The Fitnessista}
This post actually discusses post-partum wellness in light of the "What's Your Excuse?" guilt trip that's been going around the internet. Pregnancy has been a bit of an equalizer for me, and quite a lesson in humility. I've never been so out of control of my body-- but that's a good thing! I certainly don't know the millions of details that go into growing a baby! I'm very thankful my body seems to be doing that on its own without my conscious help. Anyway, it's also made me realize that all of those "I won't be like that" ideals I had about pregnancy and parenthood (and who knows what else) aren't always in your power to control, and it's really not fair to judge someone unless you're willing to walk in their shoes.
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