It’s 11:28 PM and I just clocked out and laid down in the bed with my rice sock, because man do I ache. Today has just been a day. It’s been Monday. I’m exhausted.
I got so much done today… and still feel so very behind. Why are there not enough hours in the day to do everything? I feel like if I excel in some aspects, others get neglected. In a typical day, these are the things that I try to make time for:
• Breakfast
• Exercise
• Laundry
• Work
• Play + read with baby girl
• Lunch
• Dishes
• Bible time
• Dinner prep
• Tidying up
• Dinner
• Put baby girl to bed
• Time with hubby
I put out Avon books (which entails driving like 20 minutes out of town and putting books in paper boxes in our old neighborhood), somehow worked SEVEN hours, and did a lot of other things mentioned above. But I didn’t get to the laundry, and I neglected my bible time. The laundry can wait, I know, but not making time to spend with God is not good at all.
My husband is the best. I know I brag on him a lot, but he deserves it. He saw that I was still trying to work when he got home, so he packed up baby girl and went to the store to grab a few things we needed so I could work in peace for a while. I had also jokingly said I was craving alfredo, so he bought the necessary ingredients to make it and cooked it for me after baby girl went to bed. I don’t know what I would do without him. He sees the dishes need doing and does them. He cooks dinner almost every night. He helps me in so many ways and is just the best partner to go through life with.
I wrote this Monday night, but life hasn’t slowed down since. Last night I clocked out at 10 PM, so that’s an improvement, right? Working from home is not as glamorous as everyone might think. For me, it’s a constant battle in my mind between feeling guilty about not spending enough time with my kid and not being the best employee I can be. Ugh.
Also, can we talk about my husband some more? That night, he made linguine alfredo, last night he made hand-breaded pan-fried cod with fresh fries and mushy peas, and tonight he’s making steak frites. What in the world did I do to deserve this man and his cooking? Yum.
We had baby girl’s birthday party yesterday, and were so blessed with an enormous amount of friends and family that came to celebrate with us. I ordered a cake from Main St. Bakery a couple of weeks ago, and I was excited to see what she came up with. Hubby went and got it while I put sweet girl down for a nap, then mom came and stayed with her while I went to church to set up. I was so happy with how it turned out. Her cakes are always beautiful, but this was absolutley gorgeous! Could this be any more perfect?! I was in love with that cake! I didn’t want to cut it.
When we got home I posted a picture of it on Instagram. When I got back on later, I had a comment on my post from the illustrator of the Fancy Nancy books! She said it was brilliant, and I couldn’t agree more. Also, I was freaking out that she had commented on my photo! I may or may not have followed her immediately and now she probably thinks I’m crazy… but how awesome is that?!
If I’ve learned anything from Instagram, it’s that the world is actually pretty small, and everybody is a personal blogger. I see other people, mamas specifically (SO MANY), out there doing exactly what I’m doing, and I get discouraged. I start thinking, “she’s prettier, her pictures are more beautiful, her house looks like a magazine, she’s more outgoing than I am…” on and on. I fall down the comparison hole and it’s hard to climb back out. I wonder why anybody would care what I have to say when there are already so many “better” options out there. But then I’m gently reminded that I’ve been called to this. I don’t have to have the prettiest photos and I don’t have to shout louder than everyone else to be heard. I just have to be me, because God called me to speak in only a way I can, from experiences that are unique to me. And because He called me to this, He will be faithful to use what I’m giving Him; He will put my words in front of the exact person that needs to see them. He will use me if I get out of my own way and let Him. For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God… 2 Timothy 1:6a
Waiting at yet another doctor’s appointment… figured I could write. So, my baby girl’s birthday is coming up. She will be TWO and this mama is feeling like time has skipped ahead. I just realized that the day we are having her party was her original due date in 2018. She ended up coming a week and a day early, but the date is still in my mind.
Last year, for her first birthday, my husband’s sweet cousin kind of took over the party planning because I mentally checked out. I was super overwhelmed by all the Pinterest-perfect ideas and all the things you “must” have and do. My advice? Don’t do what I did. Don’t freak out. Getting together with friends and family who love your child is the important thing. And don’t go broke over a one year old’s birthday party – it’s not worth it.
I used things I already had and bought things I could use again.
I knew I didn’t want to spend a ton of money on a bunch of chintzy items that were single use. After all, my kid was just turning one. Yes, the world makes a huge deal about it, but the fact is she won’t remember. She will have pictures to see what it was like later, but the party was really for the adults. Because of that, and because I really can’t stand useless waste, we tried to buy things we could use again and use things we already had.
The floral fields pattern from Target. It also has gold dots incorporated into some of the pieces. These exact flowers are stickers that are over her bed.
Her room is decorated in light pink and mint with some gold, and so we went with that color scheme. Several things in her room are from the Floral Fields collection of the Cloud Island products at Target, so we used that as inspiration for her party. I ended up buying a paper “happy birthday” sign at Hobby Lobby with those colors. I saved this sign and plan on using it this year as well. I bought a couple little porcelain jars in the dollar spot at Target (I refuse to call it Bullseye’s Playground or whatever it is now…) to decorate with and hold pushpins for a cork board I got at Hobby Lobby (more on that in a minute.) We also bought at Hobby Lobby a picture frame that held twelve photos, one for each month of her first year. We paid a bit for it, but justified it by saying that we could reuse it again by changing the words on it and turning around the clips (see pics).
I made a few things more cheaply than I could have bought them.
As far as making things, I wanted everything to kind of flow, so I bought some gold paint. I couldn’t find a “1” that wasn’t an arm and a leg that I liked for her cupcake, so I bought a cheap wooden one and painted it. I got OBSESSED with that gold paint, and started painting EVERYTHING gold, haha. The corkboard that I mentioned earlier, I used a stencil and sponge and painted some gold dots on it. I LOVE how it turned out, and it’s hanging in her room right now. I also ended up painting the pushpins as well, because GOLD PAINT! At the party, we had some heart-shaped post-its and pens out for family and friends to write her a note.
Ignore the unflattering chin shot of my kid, but here is the one I painted in GOLD PAINT!
I adore this corkboard. It’s one of my favorite pieces in her room and it’s so simple. We mostly use it to display artwork.
All I had to paint with at the time was a partially dried out craft sponge, but it made a really neat effect on the pins.
I also framed a piece of wallpaper that came from her room before we renovated, and I painted the matte for it with that gold paint. [Backstory for those who don’t know, we live in what used to be my granny’s house where I spent many weekends as a child. The room baby girl is in now used to be “my room”, so it holds a lot of precious memories.] I used a dry erase marker and wrote on the glass, and used it as a sign to explain the corkboard. This also is still in her room – I use it to write different notes and sayings on it.
In all honesty, I hadn’t changed this in forever until I typed out this post. I went a little overboard with the chalk markers while changing it up… I forgot how fun they are!
I made a banner for her high chair out of a sheet of pink foam and glitter letter stickers from Hobby Lobby and some string we had at home. (I also added a touch of the gold paint!) I plan on reusing this for this year’s party as well – I have more letters and “two” is the same amount of letters, so it works!
I reused things I already had.
We reused balloons that spelled out her name from one of her baby showers (they are all still inflated, except for one letter – I really want to reuse these again this year as well!)
I spent money on the important things, got the other things as cheaply as I could, and even borrowed a few things.
Where I spent most of the money for my sweet girl’s birthday was on the cake. And actually, my wonderful momma had already sneaked and paid for the cake before we went to pick it up. We have an amazing little bakery on Main Street and I absolutely love the cakes from there. It may cost a little more than if we bought it at the grocery store, but their cakes are amazing, and I like to support local businesses when I can! I just ordered this year’s cake from there, and I’m sure it will be phenomenal.
So delicious and GORGEOUS ❤
We bought generic pink and white plates, napkins, and plastic tablecloths from Dollar Tree. We had her party in the sanctuary of our church, so we were able to use several serving trays and bowls from the church’s kitchen.
Super simple food spread. We only did sweets because it was after lunchtime.
I even used a gift as decor.
Hubby’s cousin that did a lot of the planning made a letter “E” out of artificial flowers for baby girl that we used to decorate with as well. It hangs in her room, and I plan on incorporating it into this year’s party too.
How crazy talented is hubby’s cousin?!
I really like the challenge of reusing items and repurposing decor from our house. It saves money, and there’s not as much useless junk that you don’t know what to do with laying around. I’ll do another post about this year’s party later!
Moral of the story: a first birthday is just that, a first birthday. Your kid won’t remember it. It’s nice to get loved ones together, but I got seriously bent out of shape over it for no reason. The world puts way too much pressure on us as mamas to have everything just so, and it’s really not necessary. I recall when I was ordering the cake for this first birthday, the lady asked what kind of smash cake I wanted. When I told her I wasn’t doing one, she looked a little taken aback. Why is this even a thing? No judgement whatsoever if you have done one or are doing one, but personally, that’s too much wasted cake! A cupcake was a much better size for my tiny one year old who had barely ever had sugar before, and the effect was pretty much the same, I feel. Also, why break the bank? Spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars on a huge, fancy party for a one year old is quite over the top if you think about it. I’m trying to keep it as cheap as possible, but still nice and put together. I feel like baby girl’s first party was nice, and I didn’t have to sell a kidney to pay for it. I’m aiming for that again this year – no kidney selling please!
…for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.
2 Timothy 1:7
I know I’ve done this verse more than once before, and it seems like I even remember doing it pretty recently. But Jim’s message on Sunday [you can watch it here] was about choices, and I thought this related so well. He said that he read somewhere that we make like 35,000 choices a day. That sounds insane, but I believe it. He asked us how many times a day we consider God’s will before we choose?
That got me thinking about my motivation for the choices I make. Most of my choices are made from a desire for comfort. How many times a day do I do something because the alternative seems too scary or I’m too timid and shy to do what I think I really should? ALL THE TIME. I keep quiet instead of complementing someone. I let someone else step up to help that person in need because I’m too scared. For crying out loud, I pass by a Facebook status that makes me happy for or proud of the person posting it and don’t hit the “like” button because social interaction, even behind a screen, makes me nervous. All the time I let satan tell me that my “personality flaws” overpower what God is asking me to do. I let him tell me that it’s okay to indulge myself or to give in to fear. But, the Holy Spirit inside me is stronger that my personality. [Insert a thought I had that I typed out months ago on my phone, waiting for the perfect opportunity to share: “Our emotions, our personality ‘flaws’ are our thorns in our sides. They are there to keep us humble. If we didn’t have to strive for heavenly perfection, if we were already there, we wouldn’t need Jesus.”] As long as I accept and believe that the Holy Spirit is bigger, I don’t have to be bogged down by timidity and fear. I don’t have to let them control my choices. The funny thing is that this is a choice in itself. I can choose to listen to satan’s voice, or the Holy Spirit’s guidance. My choices are not random or arbitrary, though they may feel that way to me as I skate through life. I’m making a choice. I need to be so much more careful about making conscious decisions to listen to the Holy Spirit.
Confession time: during the month of December, I wrote in my bible journal five times. FIVE TIMES. And you want to know what’s even worse than that? I went to God even less. The times I did write were out of guilt, and I let myself become distracted while doing it. I only did it to check it off my list, to be able to say that I did it. And yes, we had a great holiday season and I kept my expectations in check, and I enjoyed each moment as it happened. But, I never went to God with thanksgiving for any of it. I never slowed down and took time to ponder the birth of Jesus and what His presence here on earth means for my life. I neglected going to His word and spending time in His presence daily, and boy does it show. I have felt so disconnected from God and His will lately, and my CHOICES made it happen. God didn’t change, and He surely didn’t go anywhere. He’s still there, waiting patiently for me to come to my senses. If I treated my friends the way that I sometimes treat God, they would be long gone; no sane person would put up with my crap. But God’s love is supernatural, His forgiveness is always waiting, and His mercy is relentless. He loves us like nobody else can and even when nobody else does. We don’t deserve it, but He loves us anyway. I’m so, so very grateful for that.
Satan stayed over for the holidays, but it’s time for him to leave now. I never should have invited him in the first place, but now he’s really overstayed his welcome. Lord, kick him out, and give me power and self-control to tell him, “no,” next time.
My kid looking grumpy about my cute photoshoot idea.
By the world’s standards, we had a wonderful Christmas – we spent time with family, cooked together, had a cute family photo by the tree, lots of presents for baby girl, good food… but what did we do for others? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. AND, the one time of year that secular radio stations play songs about Jesus, did I say anything to anybody? Did I use the season as a conversation-starter to tell someone who otherwise wouldn’t stop to think about it about Jesus’ love? NOPE. I really messed this one up and completely missed the point.
So, in relation to the new year, this is going to be the verse that I focus on. God didn’t give us a spirit of fear, but a bold spirit to overcome our fear. He didn’t create us to sit back and watch others live for Him, but gave us a heart for Him and His people. And he certainly didn’t allow us to be imperfect just to stay that way. We have the self-control we need already inside us through the Holy Spirit. Going into the new year with a renewed spirit of power and love and self-control is exactly what I need to live as God has called me to – boldly.
Bear with me, guys. I’ve been working on this particular post all week when I have time, so parts of the post were written at different times.
It’s the day before Christmas eve and I’m sitting here doing something I never do – holding my daughter while she takes a nap. She will be two next month, and I’m pretty sure I can count on one hand how many times we’ve done this since she started sleeping in her own bed at around four months. I don’t know if she’s getting sick, if she’s just growing, or if it’s simply the chaos of Christmas, but this kid has been out of whack for a couple of weeks. She whines ALL THE TIME (and if you know me, you know I can’t stand whining), she’s been sleeping way longer than normal at night, waking up later than usual (I slept in until 8 AM last Saturday – I literally haven’t done that since she was born), and being extra cuddly (which is so unlike her). It could be that her sleeping schedule keeps getting messed up because of various outings, or because of all the different and not-so-great-for-you food we’ve been letting her eat (like the entire snickerdoodle cookie she ate last night.) Whatever it is, she’s out of sorts. So, here we are, sitting in the chair in her room, all cuddled up in a blanket. She is still sniffling in her sleep from crying even after at least 45 minutes of sitting here. I feel bad, because I tried so hard to comfort her and get her to sleep in her bed like she does every other day. I told her no when she said she wanted to “cuddle mama,” because it has become to her a kind of distraction from doing things she doesn’t want to do. But, after her screaming uncontrollably for a few minutes, I couldn’t take it. She was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. And as much as I love cuddling this sweet girl while she sleeps, I don’t want this to become a thing. I don’t want her to learn to scream uncontrollably when something isn’t really wrong because she knows that eventually she’ll get her way. I don’t want her to think that she can’t fall asleep on her own anymore and undo all the work we did getting her to sleep as well as she does. Why is this so hard?
Cuddling my whiny baby.
Now, it’s 1:30 AM and I’m still laying here awake. I stayed up to finish wrapping presents and now I’m wired. Hubby has been complaining more than usual that he’s tired, and I can visibly see that he’s exhausted. He hasn’t slept well in years, and he’s finally got a sleep study consultation scheduled next month (after much nagging on my part.) But, I feel like his sleeping has gotten worse recently… kind of around the time baby girl’s started being noticeably out of whack. I don’t know what’s going on, but between all the busyness of the season and worrying about my people’s sleep, I’m not sleeping either. I keep hearing baby girl talk in her sleep or cry out, and, bless his heart, hubby’s snoring isn’t super conducive to either of us getting much sleep. We’re a family of zombies lately.
I write all this to say that even though sometimes we think people’s holiday season looks picture-perfect, it’s more than likely not really. If you look at the December album on my Facebook, it looks like we have it all together. In reality we’re all so tired, I have about fifty of the same picture on my phone from trying to get that one perfect shot, we’re doing the third load of dishes today and somehow the sink is still full, the laundry is piled high, I still have people to buy Christmas gifts for, I’m worried about us getting sick (there are SO MANY germs out there right now), and I’m trying to find the balance of handling all this and just living in and enjoying the moment. Those are usually the only parts anyone ever sees. But, if you’ve been struggling, you’re not alone. No one’s holiday season is actually perfect; we just have to choose to see our own chaos, whatever it looks like, as perfect to us.
My kid was SUPER over opening Christmas gifts.
I’ve been super guilty in the past of building up my expectations (especially holiday expectations) so high that they can’t possibly be met, and then getting so disappointed when my “plans” didn’t turn out. I think I did better this year. I’ve been trying to live more intentionally. I’ve been trying to enjoy each moment for what it is instead of what I think it should be. God has shown me a lot lately that my plans are not His plans, and that’s perfectly fine because His plan is better. He keeps reminding me, and I’ve been trying to do better about just going with the flow and appreciating the ride. Movie nights with hot chocolate and matching pajama photos are fine, but do you know what else is great? Reading the same book with my daughter over and over again because she wants “mama read again,” taking a different way home than you normally would so your daughter can see the giant blow up Santa on top of the government building downtown, late-night dinner and grocery store runs with your husband to get a few last-minute gifts, staying up late to make biscuit dough for a Christmas brunch with your family, and sitting in the quiet room with the Christmas tree all lit up.
The everyday, unplanned, and messy moments are the moments. They make up the majority of our whole lives. If we just keep waiting and wishing for those fleeting picture-perfect moments, we will end up disappointed. Our lives will pass us by without us even realizing it.
Making goodies with my girl. Glad her daddy caught this “picture-perfect” moment because it lasted about two seconds.
Y’all, this is why I say that my kid doesn’t really play with toys. She does, but most don’t hold her attention for very long. She would rather play with random items that she can move from one place to another. When I looked down and saw this scene today, I thought it was a little ironic.
Ever since Easter, this basket of plastic eggs has been one of her favorite things to play with. She carries it around, takes the eggs out and puts them somewhere else, sometimes opening them and then shutting them again on the way, and then carries them one by one back to the basket. It could entertain her for hours.
Sometimes our kids don’t act like we think they “should.” They don’t play with the expensive toys they have, they don’t like the things we want them to. They are their own people. Life is like this is as well. Often times, we have very specific plans for our lives because the world tells us we should. But, God has much bigger, better plans, and life rarely looks like we think it should. Sometimes, living in the moment looks like a bunny basket of Easter eggs under the Christmas tree. And that’s okay.
Full disclosure, this started out as an Instagram post, but I got a little long-winded. I keep feeling uninspired to write, but apparently all I have to do is start, and the words come. I see you, satan, trying to keep me from my calling. Not cool.
Hubby and I had a much-needed date night tonight and I’m feeling so much better. We needed the alone time for sure. We went to see A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, and it was sogood. I usually avoid all together movies that I know are going to make me cry (well, almost every movie makes me cry at some point, but like, if I see “heart-warming” or “inspirational” or anything like that in a trailer, I’m out), but I had to see this movie. I loved Mr. Rogers growing up, and, hello, it’s Tom Hanks.. what’s not to love? I went in knowing that I would probably be ugly crying throughout the whole thing, so I was emotionally prepared. But, I made it like 2/3 of the movie without crying, and I thought I was doing good. Ugh, that last third will get you, watcher beware. Men crying make me cry, and that happened, so… cue the waterworks.
I haven’t really researched Fred Rogers’ life, so I don’t know exactly how accurate some of the things in the movie were, but there were several things that stuck out to me. [Stop here to avoid spoilers!] The man that’s interviewing Mr. Rogers asks him repeatedly how he handles the burden of knowing other people’s problems, and he answers with things from his show – pounding clay, playing all the low notes on the piano at once, etc. Mrs. Rogers tells him later that Fred reads scripture and prays for people by name, that he practices healthy ways to manage his feelings daily, so that he can better handle himself when things get overwhelming. What a concept. I know I’m guilty of either not caring enough about someone, because I don’t want the accompanying emotional burden, or caring but holding onto that burden until the weight of it almost breaks me. We were made to love each other. We were made to care for each other. We were made to carry one another’s burdens, but we don’t have to carry them alone or forever. We can hand them to God, knowing that He can carry anything we give Him and infinitely more.
What if we genuinely cared for people so much that we specifically prayed for them by name, that we went to God on behalf of, not just the people we see every day, but all the people that we run into and might never see again? What if we saw people for the souls they are, souls that are experiencing the ups and downs of life just like we are? Mr. Rogers had a heart for people, just as Jesus calls us to do. We could definitely all take some notes.
Another thing that stuck out to me was how present he was in each moment. Whoever he was talking to at the time was his sole focus. He told the reporter on the phone that talking to him was the most important thing he was doing in that moment. So very often, I glaze over as I go through moments. I pay just enough attention to respond. I let thoughts of what I need to do next distract my attention from what’s happening right in front of me. Mr. Rogers seemed to always be completely present, noticing emotional cues and small details about the other person that you could only understand by really focusing on them. I absolutely love that. Giving the person in front of us our full attention is such a simple way of showing God’s love to others. I really could use some work in this department. My introverted self is so focused on getting through a conversation without saying something totally awkward, that I forget about the other person. I’ve got some work to do on my intentional living.
The overall tone of the parts of the movie with Mr. Rogers was patient, calm, caring, and genuine. I couldn’t help but think how he (the real Mr. Rogers) must have shaped a lot of my personality as I was growing up. When I was a kid, I watched a lot of TV (I played a lot too…). I had my routine, certain things that I absolutely had to watch when they came on every day. Mr. Rogers was definitely one of those shows. Every day, I would watch this sweet man talk about feelings and how to handle them properly. As an emotional, sensitive person, that really resonated with me, even as a kid. My other afternoon PBS must-watch was the Joy of Painting with Bob Ross. I loved how quiet and calm he was, and how he could always take a mistake and make it into something beautiful anyway. These two calm, sensitive men were a big part of my childhood and I honestly think they shaped my personality. As I’ve grown older, I’ve actually gotten more outspoken (if you know me, I know that’s hard to believe), so much more cynical, and a lot more impatient. Watching that movie made me remember how I used to be, and how far I’ve come (good and not so good). It made me remember to slow down, and remember to enjoy moments as they happen.
So, I highly recommend the movie if you haven’t seen it yet. It’s emotional, for sure, but man does it make you think. Plus, the nostalgia alone is totally worth it. On a related note – as I said, I usually try to steer clear of these kinds of movies, but there have been a couple of others that I’ve seen fairly recently that I recommend as well: Saving Mr. Banks was so good, as well as Christopher Robin. Bring a tissue. They’ll break your heart, but put it back together by the end. On the other hand, do not watch Wind River, whatever you do. It’s not worth the emotional trauma. It’s just not. I thought, “I like Jeremy Renner, it got pretty good reviews, this will be good.” Just don’t. It’s not a bad movie, but, ugh, is it so very sad.
I’m thankful for date nights where we can just focus on each other. I told hubby yesterday that a lot of times I’m so focused on being a mother, that I forget to be a wife as well. Having time to refocus on him and our relationship as husband and wife is just what I need from time to time.
Super old pic that hubby’s cousin took of us while we were dating… circa 2009. Yikes.
I think I blame my blood pressure medicine (?), but I just have, like, zero will to write at the moment. I have no motherly wisdoms. I have no funny, relatable story to share. I’m just here, trying to soak up every minute of every day while also being productive. And every day I wind up disappointed because, once again, I couldn’t find the balance. For the last couple of weeks, this means that I’ve gotten so many hours in for work, but my kid is constantly in a mood from lack of enough attention (at least she thinks so, anyway), and my dishes and laundry are piled high. As I’m writing this out, I should be in the kitchen putting away the clean dishes and filling the dishwasher back up, but, I finally just clocked out of work like 20 minutes ago (it’s TEN THIRTY PM) and I really just wanted to lay down. I’m tired. And I feel like I say that a lot, but it’s the truth. I was getting so good about taking a walk every morning… I had even added some running into those walks and was just getting to the point where I didn’t feel like I was absolutely dying when I came inside. But, now, I’m pretty sure it’s been about a week since I did any sort of physical activity, and I’m feeling it. Starting all over again sounds awful. Being out of shape is awful. Ah, the conundrum of life.
Baby girl is going to be two NEXT MONTH, and this mama is having a hard time dealing. When I worked at the daycare, the one year olds were always my favorite – they could interact with you and do activities, but they didn’t sass back much yet. I hated when the kids in my class had to move up, but there were always more kids coming right behind them. A whole new set of kiddos that were the perfect age. The fact that reality is not that way… that my baby will be two, and there’s nothing I can do about it and there’s not another little baby waiting patiently behind her and I have to keep moving and growing with her and she WON’T STOP GETTING OLDER. I’m a mess. I can (just a little bit) understand why some people just keep having babies… mostly, I just want her to be a baby again. Like I said, I’m a mess.
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love this stage she’s in… except for when I don’t, haha. She’s so smart and understands so much. We haven’t actually seen Santa yet this year. She’s seen him portrayed on TV, and we’ve read The Night Before Christmas about a thousand times, and we’ve talked about who he is and what he does. This afternoon, I went to get her out of bed after her nap. She usually lays there and talks until I go in, so I didn’t think much of it when I went in there today and she was talking. She jerked around and smiled at me and said, “I was talking to Santa!” I laughed and asked her if she told Santa what she wanted for Christmas. She got so excited and said, “Santa’s awesome! He bringing me books!” So, I guess “Santa” needs to find some books to bring. This makes my heart happy. I love the fact that books make her so happy.
This same sweet kid also yells, “no” at me or, “I ‘note’ want to!” about fifty times a day now… so there’s that. I’m not feeling that part of this lovely stage at all. Asking her to turn her “listening ears” on, complete with pretending to turn knobs on our ears, before I ask her to do something is working wonders for getting her to listen at the moment, but I’m sure that won’t last too long. She’s so emotional about everything, but she can’t convey those emotions properly yet… it just comes out in flops and tears, sometimes the dramatic throwing of her body onto the nearest piece of furniture like she’s a Disney princess, or, my favorite one so far – she put her hand up to her head, fell back into my arms, and said, “I tan’t go on!” Good grief.
Baby girl sitting in her great grandmother’s rocking chair on one of our Thanksgiving stops.
Thanksgiving was good, but busy. We had three places to go and baby girl stayed up way past bedtime two nights in a row… yeah, not pretty. We are so very blessed that we both have so much family close by, but man does it make for busy holidays. When I was pregnant, hubby and I agreed that we would tell people that they could come to our house to see us on holidays, that we weren’t going to drag our kid all over creation. For one, our mid-renovation-for-two-years house just isn’t equipped to handle a bunch of people. For two, it’s just really not fair or feasible to ask everyone else to work around our one small family. So, we trudge from one house to the next, trying not to eat too much and save room for the next stop but failing miserably, and worrying that we’re not giving each stop enough time. As I said, all our family is local, so it’s just a drive across town from one stop to the next, but there’s only so much food and fun you can squeeze in before you have to move on. If we ever get our house together and we have Thanksgiving here, I might change my tune. I might prefer the trudging to having a house full of people. But, I don’t know… I’ll let you know if it ever happens. As far as traditions go, I feel like on both sides of our family, they have changed immensely over the last few years, mostly as grandparents have passed away. The only steady thing is the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, I have to watch it every year. I was so excited to share it with baby girl this year… she was not really having it. She kept begging us to go to her room with her and play. It was like we were torturing her making her watch TV. Poor baby. As I’ve said before, the house we live in was the only house I knew for my granny. This was her house. And this was where we came for holidays, family dinners, birthday parties, everything. It feels so weird for it to be empty on special occasions. That’s why I’m hoping someday, it can be that house again. As introverted as my husband and I both are, we’re also both family people, and having a house full of family just seems right. Now, if someone could win the lottery and share a little with us so we could finish our renovations, that would be great! All kidding aside, I love how life has come full circle and we call this house home.
The last few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster. This whole going to the doctor thing is for the birds. I have several bible devotions I want to share with you guys, but they all coincide with things that were happening in my life at the time. So, I think I’m going to do things a little differently this time and actually date these entries, just to keep things straight. I might also interject with some details for clarification.
Nov. 6
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
Isaiah 41:10
This is God speaking to the Israelites, but I feel like if we are His people too, it applies to us as well. Several years ago, I had to go get an ultrasound on a “lump” in my breast. I was really scared, and my best friend texted me this verse the morning I went. It was a comfort to hold onto. Yesterday, I went and got some blood work done, and today the results were posted on my chart online. It just says “abnormal blood chemistry.” I have no idea what that means. I made the mistake of googling it, and it could mean anything as minor as dehydration or as serious as bone cancer or a blood disease.
I’m trying so very hard not to freak out or fear the worst. In looking for this verse again, I was reading through some other passages in Isaiah, and was reminded how big God is and how small I am. Whatever is going on with me, it’s just a tiny puzzle piece in the grand scheme of things. He’s holding it, just like He’s holding every moment of every single person’s life. He’s in control and my worry is not needed.
I’m not quite to the point of having unexplainable peace about the situation just yet, I just found out 30 minutes ago. But, I am clinging to God’s promises, the fact that He holds me, and that His will is perfect.
Nov. 7
Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God… I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction; you have known the distress of my soul.
Psalm 31:5&7
I was not okay yesterday. The unknown completely freaks me out. I was trying to cling to God’s goodness, and to trust in His plan – but I was struggling.
When the doctor’s office finally called, I was so appreciative of the woman on the phone. She explained what was going on [high cholesterol and high liver enzymes] very calmly and was reassuringly positive. She calmed me down immediately. But then what did I do? I took what she said and started to worry and speculate. I forgot to praise God for the comfort He sent.
Then, I called my mom to tell her what they said, and I had a very good conversation with her. I hung up feeling better. I forgot to praise God.
Last night, I went to worship team practice for the first time in FOREVER. Before we prayed to begin, I was talking to a couple of people about what was going on. Our piano player has a doctorate in nursing, and she assured me that the liver enzymes were related to the cholesterol. Our sound guy agreed, and said the same thing had happened to him. I felt SO much better about everything. Practice was awesome – we sang songs that I love, I worshipped. But, again, I forgot to thank God for the comfort He sent me in those people.
Only when I sat down to do a devotion today did I realize what God had done. I literally had just posted a quote last night from one of my previous blog posts about how God is good even when I make myself too busy to see it… talk about stepping on my own toes.
Nov. 20
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; His understanding is beyond measure… sing to the Lord with thanksgiving; make melody to our God on the lyre!… but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him, in those who hope in His steadfast love.
Psalm 147:5, 7, 11
Thanksgiving is on my mind today; partly because the holiday is coming up next week, but also because I just have so much to be thankful for.
Hubby and I were talking last night, and I realized at some point during like a five minute span, he had said, “I’m sorry,” to me about a dozen times; it wasn’t because he had done anything wrong, but because I kept stating things that were wrong with me or kept complaining about this or that. I got so frustrated with myself that I was focusing so much on all the negative things in my life. Yes, I have aches and pains; yes, my health is questionable at the moment; no, I didn’t get everything done today that I had planned to; yes, I am an emotional wreck about my baby growing up; no, our house isn’t exactly how we want it; no, we dont have the money to do everything we want to do… I could go on forever. BUT, I should be able to go on forever about my blessings. Everybody has aches and pains as they age, and I should feel grateful that I’m able to grow older; I am convinced that my circumstances have brought me exactly where I’m supposed to be while I’m having these health issues- God’s got it; my to-do list isn’t as important as God’s; I have a sweet baby girl that I prayed and prayed for, and she is healthy and growing; we have somewhere comfortable to lay our heads and spend our time; we are abundantly blessed to have what we need and more. Even if we didn’t have all that, we have hope in His steadfast love and He takes pleasure in us. WHAT MORE DO WE NEED? Not a thing.
My prayer today, and every day forward, is that I keep my life in a heavenly perspective. I have NOTHING to complain about – and if I think I do, that’s just satan distracting from my blessings so that I’ll forget to praise God for them, and so I’ll forget to use them for His glory. [Funny story – Jim’s message at church this morning was called, “I have a complaint.” Some awesome people did a skit (which I only saw part of in rehearsal) and he preached a message of thanksgiving. I didn’t get to see it all because of a busy, family-filled day ahead that warranted me to leave early and put my toddler down for a nap, lest she be cranky for the rest of the day. But, I definitely need to go back and watch the video. I know it’s the season, but God so very often lays the same theme on both our hearts. I love how He reinforces His word to me through Jim ❤]
Nov. 21
I will extol you, my God and my king, and bless your name forever and ever. Every day I will bless you and praise your name forever and ever. Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised, and His greatness is unreachable.
Psalm 145:1-3
Jim asked us to think about what would make someone praise God this way. He said, in his opinion, it is because they have needed God and He rescued them; they see God’s hand in their lives; they have “pass[ed] through the limitations of self and the world and stepped into the kingdom where God is God and they catch a glimpse of what He can do, while at the same time realizing there is so much more that they can’t even begin to comprehend.” Have I experienced God like this? OH, YES I HAVE. Many times. So why do I forget to praise Him every day for who He is and what He’s done?
I need to approach Him every day with thanksgiving, recognizing who He is and what He’s done for me.
So, there’s all the entries I wanted to share with you about this. Thursday afternoon I went back to the doctor. It was kind of a long visit, but I did go over my long list of concerns with her. As far as the liver enzymes go, she said that most likely I just have a fatty liver and need to change my diet. She said it could also be my gallbladder, which I’ve been having trouble with off and on for over 10 years… so I’m kind of hoping it’s that and we can take it out and move on. I go Tuesday for an ultrasound of my abdomen to see what’s going on. She also had me do more bloodwork for a food allergy test with the possibility of a more comprehensive one pending the results. She’s referring me to a dermatologist and a chiropractor as well. I feel a little ridiculous, but I’ve been neglecting (actively ignoring) my health for so long, it is nice to have a plan… even if it does make me feel like I’m 95 years old. I’m thankful that I have the opportunity to address all these issues.
I’m still having trouble writing. I think I’m a little worried about my health, and I’m feeling SO MUCH guilt over balancing work and spending time with baby girl. She’s to the point where she asks me not to work, to stay with her, to play with her. And yes, I get that I’m at least home with her. And yes, I know she will be fine entertaining herself for a while. She doesn’t understand those things, though. All she knows is that she’s trying to talk to me and I’m not responding. All she knows is that she wants me in her room with her while she plays. All she knows is that she’d rather be running around the house than stuck in a pack and play. And honestly, I’d rather be playing with her. I’d rather spend my time planning neat activities to do with her. I’d rather be reading her even more books. But then when I do that, when I spend the extra time with her and do minimal just-enough-to-squeak-by work, I feel awful as well. Then, I’m barely getting any hours, which means hardly any extra money for my family, and I feel like a sub-par employee. Someone please tell me where the balance is. Any activities for an almost two year old that can be done mostly unsupervised would be great too. Most days I’m at a loss anymore.
I’m trying so incredibly hard to hold onto each precious moment of this life we all have together, no matter how small. The other day, we spent a few minutes outside together in the November snow. Baby girl loved it so much, and it made my heart so, so happy. She loved walking in it, she tried to catch it as it fell from the sky, she brushed some off of her swing set and wanted to play on it. We had to almost drag her back inside. Before we went out, she and I had prepared dinner, and she helped me make a piecrust from scratch. I hope cooking together is something that she enjoys in the years to come. As much as her daddy and I love food, she’s probably kind of destined to be in the kitchen. At least, I hope anyway, haha. As much as I enjoyed the special moments we had, I literally worked an hour that day. AN HOUR. Great, now I can buy a fast food lunch out somewhere. Ugh.
My literal snow bunny.
The next day, I managed to get in a whole two hours of work, and only made a small dent in my to-do list. But, I read about a million books, rearranged baby girl’s stuff because we got her a bigger bookshelf, and cuddled a little girl who doesn’t usually like to cuddle. Did the laundry get done? Nope. Well, sort of. It was washed and dried… it just chilled in the dryer for the next few days. Did I get much of anything else done? Nope. I know I need to learn to be okay with these kinds of things, but man, do I get bent out of shape. Like I said, I need to figure out this balance thing. I also need to remember to give myself some grace.
Speaking of that… I wrote the above last week, and just let it sit in my phone. For the life of me I don’t know why I’m struggling with this whole blogging thing all the sudden. But, the other night I was reading through some notes in my phone, trying to remember my inspiration, and came across something I had written for myself and had already decided when I wrote it that I wasn’t going to share it. It was raw, it showed my flaws, and it honestly just made me look like a bad mother (I felt like, anyway.) But today, I was working and baby girl was in the pack and play and we had a moment. She was stubborn and defiant, and I lost my temper. It wasn’t great. I was doing my daily bible and prayer time after she laid down for a nap, and I was overwhelmed with the feeling that other people needed to see what we go through. Other people need to see that my child is far from perfect, but more importantly, so am I. So… here’s an account from July that, up until now, I haven’t shared out of fear of judgement.
I stayed home from church with baby girl today because I’m not feeling well and didn’t want to spread my germs. I kid you not, I just spent OVER AN HOUR trying to get my tired, cranky toddler to clean up the blocks she got out.
After a lot of me asking nicely and active avoidance on her part, it got ugly. I used my firm mom voice, then raised my firm mom voice, then just plain raised my voice because I really didn’t feel good and my patience was wearing thin. All of that was met with her attempts to distract me by going to get other toys and trying to give me cuddles. After telling her I wouldn’t ask her again, and her responding by giving me a coy smile and toddling away, I swatted her bottom – not hard, but hard enough to get her attention. She cried for about 5 seconds, and then went back to trying to “distract” me. Whew.
At this point, I’m mentally exhausted and we’re only about 20 minutes into this. I went and stood her in the corner and told her she had to stay there until she was ready to clean up her blocks. She didn’t mind, and started inspecting the tiny bumps on the wall. Only when she tried to move out of the corner did she get upset. I stood in her way and reminded her she couldn’t get out until she was ready to clean up her blocks. She started fussing and I asked her if she was ready to clean up. She said, “yes,” so I took her by the hand over to where her blocks were and told her to clean up. She did a couple, I praised her for good listening, she looked at me, got up and ran across the room to her bookshelf. She’s been obsessed with reading this box set of Disney books lately, so I tried to use that to my advantage. “Do you want to read books?” “Yeah, read!” “Okay, you have to clean up your blocks and then mama will read to you, okay?” She just stares blankly at me. (And before anyone says she didn’t understand, she did. We do this bargaining thing all the time. Ex. If she wants a bite of something we have, we tell her to eat a bite of meat or whatever we’re trying to get her to eat first, and she does it. I frequently give her two step instructions, and she carries them out perfectly. SHE UNDERSTANDS.) So, at this point, I’m quickly losing my cool, and I literally have to leave the room. I look her in the eye and tell her that mama is going across the hall, and that I will come back when she’s picked up her blocks. I leave and shut the door. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best decision to just walk out on an already emotionally unstable toddler and leave her alone with her big feelings, but this mama was about to be emotionally unstable as well if I didn’t take a step back from the situation for a second. She stood at the door and hysterically screamed her head off until I went back in there a few minutes later. Realizing that that probably wasn’t the best way to handle that, I scooped her up, wiped her face, and told her I was sorry. I sat in the chair in her room and just held her for a few minutes. I couldn’t see her face because it was buried in my shoulder, but I noticed her breathing had changed. I kind of shift her to see her face, and she’s sound asleep. Then I feel really bad. She’s just tired. I get grumpy when I’m tired too. So, I just hold her for a few minutes and let her nap in my arms. I shift again and she doesn’t wake up, so I’m thinking she’s super sleepy. I get up, close the curtains, turn on her sound and go to lay her down. I get her halfway into the bed and she starts whining, “mama.” I’m mentally and physically exhausted (she probably was too) so I’m like, okay, but I’ve got to lay down. So I carry her into my bedroom and lay down with her in my bed (which we never do.) She immediately pops up and says, “eat!” [Now, before anyone decides to judge me for what I did next, please keep in mind that she had already eaten a good breakfast, and then, just like an hour and a half before all this started, ate an ENTIRE pumpkin muffie from Panera. She wasn’t starving.]
It was lunchtime, but I told her she had to go pick up her blocks so we could go get lunch. We go back in her room, I sit her on the floor next to the blocks… here comes the screaming banshee again. I literally just sit there and stare at her while she screams. It was just an angry, frustrated cry that I had tried to soothe repeatedly. I wasn’t sure what to do. After several minutes of that, I figured she really might be getting hungry, because it was like thirty minutes past normal lunchtime at that point. I tried one more time getting down on her level, asking her nicely to please pick up her blocks. I got nothing but blood curdling screams. So, I put her hand in my hand and we picked up every single block together. I even had to use my hand to close her fingers around each block, because if I didn’t, she would let it fall back to the floor.
After that was finally over, I picked her up and let her lay on my shoulder and just hugged her. I explained that she had to listen to her mama. Whew. She usually always sits in the high chair to eat, but that almost led to another meltdown, so I chose not to fight that battle. She sat in my lap and ate a baby food squeeze pouch and part of a slice of cheese. A gourmet meal it was not, but it satisfied her enough.
We both were so ready for nap time. I’m hoping this does a world of good. Otherwise, it might be daddy’s turn to deal with the attitude for a while.
So, there’s that. We’ve only had one other huge blowup like this since then, because I’ve tried to not let it get to the point that I did that day. My girl is usually good. She’s usually pretty agreeable, or can be persuaded to do something pretty easily by offering something else. There was A LOT going on in our lives in July to begin with, and I ended up being sick for two weeks after I wrote this, so I really have tried to cut myself some slack. But, I felt awful about it. I literally agonized over how I handled it for days. At the time I wrote it, I was just trying to process it because every time I thought about it my thoughts got jumbled from all the guilt (I know, I’m so very weird). I couldn’t even put it into words enough to really explain it to my husband out loud, so I ended up letting him read what I wrote above. Motherhood is hard, guys. I’m just going to come right out and say it. The sweet moments are worth every second of worry and agony, but it’s still hard.
coffeemamabogie 