Tag: balance

Hello again.

Um, hi. It’s been a really long time since I made a post. Like, almost three months. I’ve not really had anything to say. I’ve been claiming to be “busy,” but now that I think about it, that’s not really true. Work is pretty slow and I’m in “catch up on background work mode,” which most days actually looks like “it’s nothing too urgent so I’ll play with my daughter instead mode.” I’ve been trying to just be more present, to keep my priorities straight, to put people before stuff, to live in the moment. But I’ve also not been going to the Word every day and as much I try not to base the quality of my faith on quantity of time in the word, I can’t help feeling guilty. I feel like if I’m going to be speaking to you on matters of faith, mine should probably be pretty solid. But honestly, my faith is a little shaky right now and it is all my fault. And I know it. So, I’ve felt like I didn’t “deserve” to come to you all. I know that’s not good either. I know I should lean on my friends and family in Christ during times like these. We all struggle. I know. I’ve told other people the exact same spiel. Uuuggghh. Accountability is hard. And I literally said to my husband the other night that I feel like exactly zero people care about what I have to say. Why would they? I’m just me. But then the very next day, God gently reminded me through someone I don’t even know that no matter how many people He puts in front of me, whether it’s thousands or just a handful, they are my calling. And so I must be obedient.

Anyway, even though the last few months haven’t necessarily been that busy, they’ve been hard. My husband had an especially frustrating and mentally exhausting time at work for a few weeks in there. I’ve been trying to be there for him, to be supportive. Something has to change. You all, we both feel like we’re supposed to work together. I know I’ve talked about this before, but it feels like it’s right around the corner. We’re both dragging our feet about it because we’re both a little scared, and we haven’t really gone to God about it together like I feel like we should. Pray for us, y’all. Change, even change that I want, absolutely terrifies me. All I know is that we both want to put family first, and the way things are right now, that makes it so hard to do. I’m so exhausted from feeling guilty about who is going to get the best of me on any given day. I feel like someone, whether it’s my husband or my daughter or my mom or my bosses or my friends or other family, always gets “end-of-my-rope stretched-too-thin” me. And that’s not fair to anyone. I feel like I’m in survival mode.

My husband and I went to a concert to celebrate our anniversary a couple of weeks ago. We drove to Florence, KY and stayed at the hotel where we stayed on our wedding night. (Neither of us really remembered the hotel very much even when we got there, haha. We were so tired on our wedding night and had to be at the airport the next day. It was all a blur.) We made a dinner reservation at The Melting Pot because we used to celebrate there all the time, but our local one closed. We had a wonderful fondue dinner and dessert, and I drank coffee after dinner because the opening act at the concert wasn’t going to start until 8 PM and mama had to stay awake. We drove to the venue and when we entered they were very strict about checking IDs and vaccination cards. That made me feel better. But, it wasn’t a socially distanced show, so the seats were full. I told my husband I was glad that we didn’t get lower arena seats, because they were all first come first serve and everyone was crowded around the stage. Luckily, two seats were empty in our row, so we got an empty seat on each side of us. But there were people directly behind and in front of us. I was a bit overwhelmed. I hadn’t been in a crowd like that for probably over two years. The only thing that made me feel better was that it was an amphitheater, so we had [a tiny bit of] fresh air blowing through the whole time. But it was such a good show. If you’ve never heard of Nathaniel Rateliff and The Night Sweats, look them up. It’s such a unique, vintage sound. And they put on a great show that was only the slightest bit rowdy, haha. We were pooped when we made it back to the hotel. The next morning we ate breakfast, checked out, then spent the afternoon at IKEA. We bought way more than we went for, but oh well… I got to eat Swedish meatballs.

On the way home I was talking to my husband about how much I appreciate these trips. This is the third little getaway that we’ve been able to have over the last year with just the two of us and I’m so thankful that we are blessed to be able to do so. We were walking through IKEA and I kept saying how much I missed our daughter. The same kid who the day before had me smiling through gritted teeth so that I wouldn’t lose my cool, I was missing terribly after less than 24 hours. These resets are so good for my soul. The time (truly) alone with my husband is so good for our relationship, not only as husband and wife, but also as friends. The time away from my daughter gets me out of the everyday and gives me perspective. The break in the monotony (as much as I actually like monotony) nourishes my body more than you can imagine. Just being somewhere different, seeing different places, even just for a day, is so refreshing to me. I love exploring with my husband – it’s one of my absolute favorite things. By myself? Not so much. At some point, traffic was terrible (if you live in Cincinnati or have visited, like, ever, you know that they are always working on the road somewhere), he looked at me and asked, “You up for an adventure?” He likes to find back ways to get where we’re going and sometimes they work and sometimes we get lost for a while. I smiled at him and said, “Will you be there?” He said, “Well, of course,” and I said, “Always.” I will always be down for an adventure with that man. ❤


As much as I love these trips, and as good as they are for my soul, I had a thought today. Sure, road trips, time away, concerts, good food, they can make me feel better for a while. But where do I turn when I’m in the trenches of everyday life? How do I fill my cup when I’m tired, when I’ve fought with my toddler all day, when the laundry hasn’t been folded and put away for longer than I care to admit? How do I get refreshed when there’s no getaway or vacation? God is there. He’s there all the time. His promises to me are the same as they were that day while I was riding in the car with my husband, and the same as they will be tomorrow as I’m filling up the dishwasher. God’s love for me is there. God’s peace is given to me freely every single day. God’s refuge and renewal is available to me every single second of my life. You all, do we really grasp that? I don’t think we do, or we wouldn’t strive so hard for “the next thing.” Life is hard enough as it is. Why do we insist on making it harder by trying to do things on our own?

Y’all, let’s be so incredibly thankful for the small (and big things) in this life that give our bodies and minds a reset, but let’s be infinitely more grateful for the One who can give our souls a supernatural peace and rest. Without Him, we are absolutely nothing.

When I thought, “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.

Psalm 94:18+19

Reading

Last week, our daughter’s behavior was pretty atrocious. Now, I will concede that her behavior is normal, maybe even slightly better than most three year olds most days. I am reminded of that when we (rarely) go out in public. However, for her, she’s been crazy.

On a typical day, she watches three thirty minute shows – one at breakfast, one at lunch, and one at snack. Sometimes she opts to forgoe one of those and have tablet time during the day instead. I don’t know how we got into the habit of watching so much TV, and you don’t have to lecture me about the dangers of associating television and food… I know 🤦‍♀️ … I never let her watch more than that, though. Except on weekend mornings, when we watch a movie at breakfast as a family. This past weekend, we talked her into watching The Emperor’s New Groove, which is one of my favorite movies. It’s rated G, so I didn’t think much of it. But, I never realized how many stinkin’ times that movie says, “kill,” “dead,” “die,” and more. My little sweet girl has purposely been sheltered from the phenomenon of death, because she’s so smart and inquisitive and I would never hear the end of the questions. I really don’t think she would be able to sleep trying to understand the concept. This mama’s just not ready to talk about that yet. So, her behavior had already been questionable, and when she yelled, “I’m going to kill you!” at me on Sunday (something she heard on the movie), I knew something had to change. I had already limited the kids’ shows she could even watch, because certain ones made her behavior noticeably worse. So, on Monday, I told her she could only watch one episode for the whole day and she could pick between three shows that I approved. I ended up talking her into reading at breakfast. We read through her whole Bible story book while we ate, and had some great conversations about God. After breakfast, she was the sweetest kid – helpful, polite – there was an immediate difference in her behavior. She was good all morning. She ended up listening to music at lunch time and had a good nap after that. She woke up from nap, and I expected her to ask for a show with her snack. Instead, she asked if we could eat on the front porch. Of course I said yes, and we had a little picnic on the porch. When we were finished eating, she asked if we could play outside. I told her that I still had some work to do, but that she could sit on the porch and play with some toys while I worked (I can see the porch from where I sit to work.) So we went in her room to get some toys, and she got so excited and said, “What if I take a bunch of books to read instead?” I agreed that would be great, and we carried one whole shelf-ful of books to the porch. She sat on her “picnic blanket” and read her books and was still there when my husband got home from work. The sight of her reading and reading just absolutely warmed my heart. She had a couple of pre-bedtime meltdowns, but nothing like she has had lately. Yesterday and today, she’s watched her one show and that’s it. She’s so much sweeter, and mama is in a much better mood, too.

My little reader 💕 This makes my heart so happy.

I understand why parents plop their kids in front of the the TV, I really do – it’s easy and convenient. But, in our case, it was actually making life more difficult because it was affecting her behavior, and in turn, my behavior. Everything was an argument. Her attitude was terrible. We relate to each other so much better when we are able to share morning reading time and when we are both in a better mood. This has worked wonders this week. I pray we don’t ever fall into the habit of so much TV again. Like I said, I don’t even know how that happened. I swore I wouldn’t be that mom, and when she was younger, we really didn’t let her watch that much. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that cutting out or significantly lowering screen time is a fix-all for behavior issues, because I know it’s not. However, I would recommend trying it! It’s worked wonders over here. Hang in there mamas (and daddies!), parenting is so hard and is such a balance. I’m rooting for you, and more importantly, praying for you. You’ve got this, and so do I.

Routine.


This kid had a blast this Easter weekend getting to see people she hasn’t in forever, eating more candy and sweets than she’s normally allowed, and staying up way past bedtime. This mama was and is stressed out because she has a sleep-deprived, sugared up, out-of-routine three year old. Whew.
The balance is so hard. I feel like people think I’m too strict, that I expect too much from her, that I don’t let her have enough fun. But, I’m trying to raise a person. I’m trying to raise a human being who isn’t obsessed with consumerism, who appreciates the simple things, who doesn’t expect anything to be handed to her on a silver platter. I’m trying to raise a woman who knows how to do things for herself, who works hard, who is respectful of others, and who knows how to enjoy things in moderation.


I think most people think, “Well, she’s just three, let her be a kid.” And I do, I promise. But childhood is when kids learn how to be mentally healthy, functional, productive adults. If we don’t teach them the healthy way to interact with their world, in a way they currently understand, they’ll be left to figure it out on their own. I’m building her foundation. I’m planting the seeds. Mamas, it’s important work that God has given us to do. Plus, discipline, structure, and saying “no” from time to time, makes our lives as parents easier in the long run. I promise. It’s hard in the moment, but consistency is key. It will pay off.
So, when our “consistency” goes out the window (2020 anyone?) it makes me nervous. It takes us DAYS to get back into our routine and for her to get back to normal. I know there are going to be times when things happen that are beyond my control (again, I say, 2020 anyone?) and there are obviously times- like holidays, birthdays, etc.- that will make exceptions and be more lax. Because I also want her to love to celebrate. We’re big everyday celebrators over here. But, ugh, it makes me nervous. Like I said, the balance is so hard.

Well, there’s my parenting rant. This thing started out as a caption to an Instagram photo, but, I’m me and I get long-winded. Don’t ask me something and expect a short or straight to the point answer… I’m going to tell you all the things – things you didn’t ask about, things that this thing reminded me of, things I’m feeling about the thing you asked me about, random things I think of, and maybe I’ll tell you the thing you wanted to know in the first place. Maybe. I’m an over-explainer and an over-sharer. And then I’ll have anxiety about it all because I was annoying and talked too much. And I’ll probably agonize over it for months. So there’s that peek into my brain. See: over-sharer.

Mom guilt.


The mom guilt today is real. I usually spend all day every day with my sweet girl, but the last two mornings, I’ve had appointments and errands in the morning, and she has stayed at the house with my mom. I work from home, and I always struggle with balance, but today it was about to send me over the edge. She, for whatever reason, didn’t take a nap. She laid in there for over an hour just playing and talking, and yelling at me every thirty minutes or so needing water or her blanket fixed or to tell me she loved me. I know she was having trouble sleeping, and I felt bad. But, I never truly understand how much I appreciate nap time until she doesn’t take a nap. My nerves were absolutely shot. I was trying to eat my lunch and get some work done, and just hearing her in there absolutely wound up was stressing me out. At some point, she wanted to get up, but it was like thirty minutes until nap time is usually over. I tried to explain to her that she had to just lay there and be quiet until it was time. She just kept yelling for me to come back, getting increasingly whiny and obstinate. You all, I snapped. I yelled. I stomped. I acted like a toddler. I had to leave the room and compose myself before I went back in. I scooped her up and held her in her chair. I told her I was sorry that she was having trouble falling asleep, and I apologized for losing my temper. She apologized for not being nice to me. And despite the fact that I was stressed about only having done exactly five minutes of work, I just sat there and let her lay on me. We both calmed down, and we just cuddled until it was time to get up. I don’t know if she was just feeling like she hadn’t seen me much lately or what, but that was what we both needed. This afternoon was the same old, “mama, will you play with me?” “In a few minutes, baby, mama has to finish her work.” Sprinkled with potty breaks, reaching a book off the tall shelf every five minutes, her handing me pretend paintings that she has “made”, and some general distractions. When I finally came to a stopping point with my work (I swear, I never actually finish) we went outside and played. That was nice, and I feel like we both felt better after that. Ugh, guys. How am I supposed to do it all? Be present, be productive, keep the house clean, the dishes and the laundry done, exercise, plan and eat healthy meals, read my bible, spend time in prayer, carve out time for my friends, spend time on my side gig, have “me time” (hahaha), pay the bills, keep things organized?? There aren’t enough hours in the week. Oh yeah.. and I should probably take a shower in there somewhere.. I’m tired.
Today had good and bad moments, like all days, but those bad moments sure did beat the crap out of me today. She went to bed knowing she is safe and loved, and I know that’s all that matters. But, I’d so like to do better at the in between stuff too. I’d like to set a better example of how to react to things. I’d like to show her love and grace better. I’d also like to pee in peace and have a nap. Mama life is hard sometimes. Okay, all the time. But the (rare) hugs and kisses make it worth it. The joy on her face when she does something she likes to do is worth it. The wisdom in her tiny little head is worth it. And the hours upon hours we spend reading books is worth it. She is so worth it.
Also, my husband is amazing and supports me in every way possible. He helps with the dishes, does most of the cooking, comes home and plays with our daughter while I finish up work. He is so helpful and I couldn’t do this crazy life without him ❤
On a completely unrelated and shallow note, my bed is a mess (see photo) and it needs help. I think the price of throw pillows is outrageous, and my husband doesn’t really understand the purpose of them. To him, they are just something that he has to take off before getting in the bed. But, you all, I want our bedroom, especially our bed, to be cozier and more inviting. Any tips?

Worthy of grace.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.
2 Corinthians 9:8

Grace. Do we really believe that we are worthy of it? Every moment we have is another second of God’s grace. Every breath we breathe is a gift of grace from our Creator. First of all, the verse above hits home, because it really boils down to the fact that God gives us grace so that we can have what we need and then give the rest away. He gives us what we need and then some. Am I accepting that grace and then sharing it with others or just stuck on the fact that I don’t deserve it? I’ve been working on showing grace to others as part of living out a better example of love, but I can’t show others grace if I don’t fully appreciate my own. God spoke to me this morning about someone else I’ve been forgetting to extend grace to: myself. I’m my harshest critic; I’d say that’s true for a lot of people. I have very high expectations for myself, but very low motivation most of the time. That usually results in some major self-loathing. It’s not pretty, and it’s not what God wants for me.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been on the wrong side of the fine line between humility and self-deprecating. It hurts my heart to know that seven year old me wrote in her journals about how ugly she was because she had moles, and how disgusting she was because she had an accident at school. I saw myself as disgusting. And I still do sometimes. The world teaches us to be really good at nit picking our flaws, because it’s easier to sell us a product to fix them if we are already obsessing over them. It’s scary how early this seeps into our daily thinking. When I worked at the daycare (have I mentioned this before? I worked at a daycare for eight years), I saw young kids worried about eating too much or that they wore a bigger size than their friends; I saw little faces already convinced that they needed makeup to look pretty; I saw fat-shaming and name calling and pure ugliness in these kids sometimes. I’ve also known young people whose parents have offered to pay for plastic surgery for their child because of a superficial flaw that the parent saw. This world is a mess: we are selfish, we are vain, we are lustful, we are hateful, we are prideful. How in the world can we deserve grace? I’ll let you in on a little secret – we don’t. But God gives it to us anyway. And not only that, He uses our sins to point others to His glory.
The other morning, baby girl and I read the story of Moses and the burning bush in her Bible story book. At the end of the story, it said something like, “Moses was special to God, you are special to Him too.” My sweet three year old looked up from her breakfast at me and said, “Mama, but I’m not special to God because sometimes I’m mean.” Oh my heart. That about killed me. I talked to her about how God loves us even when we are mean and hard to love. I told her that was called grace, and that’s why God is so good to us. No one else could love us like that. You all, a THREE YEAR OLD saw that she wasn’t worthy of God’s love. Why does it take adults so long to get it?

Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more…
Romans 5:20

Being convicted of our sins is painful, even my tiny girl saw a glimpse of that. God’s law is there to show us when we’re not living the way we’ve been called to live. We are supposed to feel the guilt and shame, but only so we can see the grace that is extended to us. We aren’t supposed to wallow in it, we aren’t made to live in that state of mind. But without first seeing why we need grace, the gift wouldn’t mean anything to us. I love when I see the word “but” in the bible, it usually means God is about to show up in a big way and do something only He can do. No one else, ever, could show us the grace and mercy and love that God shows us. No one could even come close. But we are called to try, to strive to love each other like sweet Jesus loves us.
Last summer, I decided to do something about my less than healthy lifestyle. I started out by walking around the block with my mom and daughter, then slowly worked in some intermittent jogging. By the fall, I could run/ jog all the way around our neighborhood once. It is only a half mile, but I got to where I could go around twice and not want to pass out. I’ve NEVER been a runner. I can’t breathe correctly when I run, and my lungs feel like they are on fire. I hurt my knee at some point and had to stick to walking for a few weeks, but I stuck with it. I was so proud of the discipline I had about it – I ran 4-5 times a week. Now, I didn’t eat any better than I ever had, I might have even eaten worse, so I wasn’t losing any weight, but I could tell I was toning myself. My clothes fit differently and my posture was better. I had more energy. I felt better. Then Thanksgiving came along and we didn’t go as often. Then December came and there were colder days and Christmas candy and goodies and I didn’t go at all. Now here we are in February and I’m pretty sure it’s been like two months since I’ve been out to run. And… I’ve been eating my feelings. A lot. I’ve gained like eleven pounds. And I was already heavier than I had been in several years. I now weigh the same as I did when I was nine months pregnant with my daughter, and it makes me feel awful. I feel huge. But I have to give myself grace. 2020 was hard on everyone, and our family was put through the ringer. Life is weird, change is hard, and we’re all just trying to cope. I’m not saying that this is the way it always needs to be, because it’s not. If I continue living the way I am, it will become downright unhealthy. But, I have to give myself grace. I can’t beat myself up over the way I look right now. What I can do is recognize that this isn’t sustainable, take that grace I so often forget I can have, and use it as motivation to do better. The last thing I want to do is let my daughter think it’s okay to put herself down. I don’t ever want to set that example. What I do want her to realize is that we all struggle sometimes, and that’s okay. We’re all a little mean sometimes, but we are still special to God and He loves us anyway. So, that’s why we keep trying, pushing, striving to do better. Because we are given grace.

Day.

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.

Um, yummy. I’ll just leave this right here.

Cheer.

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.

Balance.

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.