Tag: work life 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

Waiting with patience.

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Romans 8:22-25

I’ve got about a million things to do today before we leave on a mini-vacation next week. I honestly was not planning to get very deep in the word today… God had other, much better plans. I hurredly and out of sheer obligation said, “I’ll give you a few minutes,” and He said, “How about more than that?” Ugh, my priorities. I’m so sorry, Lord.
Anyway, I really liked the definition of hope in verses 24 and 25, but it doesn’t make much sense without some context. Plus, in verse 22 where it talks about us all collectively groaning? I felt that deep in my soul. Life is so very hard for all of us, and we’re all constantly battling something. To me, it’s so comforting to know that even the first Christians to receive the Holy Spirit felt the weight of it all. But I love what else it says – it’s the hope of something better to come that keeps us going, the same hope that saved us; God’s promises sustain us. The God that we’ve never physically seen gives us the strength to keep waiting. We wait patiently for the Lord because He was first patient with us. Our reward is not fully received this side of heaven. It’s not about this life so much. Our focus, our hope, our strength, rests in the unseen and eternal. The way this works is so beautiful to me. We groan inwardly as we wait eagerly. This is hope.

We hope because we believe God is who He says He is, and because we believe He is faithful to fulfill His promises. That led me to ask myself: What are we doing in the waiting? Praising, telling others, loving, caring for others, praying, learning? Or are we allowing ourselves to be distracted, wallowing in our hardships, being prideful and selfish? Do we make our hope look like something to want or do we push others away with our actions? Some things to ponder for sure, and some I definitely need to work on. I pray we all go into the new week with a renewed hope, waiting eagerly, even if we’re groaning inwardly, enduring because of our hope in Christ ❤

I wrote this last week and wanted to share. Since we’ve been back from our vacation, I’ve been in a funk. I don’t know if it’s post-vacation blues, or a fear of what could come of all the times we were in public this past week, or the fact that I had to come home and jump right back into work for a couple of days. I’ve had this feeling of impending doom, and I’ve felt physically blah. I’ve been irritable, short-tempered, and tense. I’m just not myself. I don’t know what that’s about, but I need it to stop. While we were gone, a husband and wife in our town were shot and killed. If you didn’t know them personally, you at least knew who they were. They were special to a lot of people. I have a family member and several acquaintances who were very close to them. They speak very highly of these people’s faith, love, and hospitality. It hurts my heart that our little town is going through this. And I think it shook me a bit – we don’t live very far from where it happened. If we had been here, would I have been driving by? My “what ifs” have been spiraling. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me. I don’t know. Prayers for me and for you this week as we all groan inwardly as we wait patiently on the Lord. We can endure because of His strength through the Holy Spirit in us.

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?

Refreshed.

You visit the earth and water it; you greatly enrich it; the river of God is full of water; you provide their grain, for so you have prepared it. You water its furrows abundantly, settling in its ridges, softening it with showers, and blessing its growth.

Psalm 65:9+10

I have a weird relationship with water, which is a strange thing to say, but bear with me. I don’t like being wet; swimming is definitely not my favorite; I’m not a fan of being in the ocean; I don’t like going out on boats; bridges and ferries make me uncomfortable; I even get motion sickness at the aquarium. But, I do love to watch water. I love to sit and watch rain fall – I love the smell and the sound of it – rain makes me happy; I like hearing the ocean, the waves crashing in the distance; I love watching water rush over rocks in a creek; and I generally prefer water over anything else to drink [besides coffee of course, but you make that with water…so I’m thinking that still counts] I honestly feel like water quenches my thirst better than anything. I realized at some point in my life that I’m drawn to instances where God uses water to draw us closer to Him. Songs like “All My Fountains” by Chris Tomlin, “Oceans” by Hillsong, and more recently “In the River” by Jesus Culture seem to speak more deeply to me. Maybe it’s because one of my deepest fears is drowning. Not being able to breath in general is at the top of my list. When it’s not being able to breathe because there’s water… terrifying.

This Lifehouse song is [yeah, I know, super old] one of those songs that resonates with me every time I hear it. I always picture Peter stepping out of the boat completely focused on Jesus, only to get distracted and fall into the depths of the water. I love the reminder that Jesus is always there to catch us when we fall.

Anyway, this passage of scripture caught my attention from so many angles. I love the notion that God rains down showers upon us and quenches our thirst, He enriches us, He makes us productive, He settles into our souls that He has carefully prepared, He softens us, and He blesses us. Baby girl and I have been trying our hand at caring for an herb garden over the last few weeks. It’s always amazing to me what a little water and sun can produce. We have more basil than we know what to do with, the oregano that was barely started when we received the garden has taken off and grown so much, and the dill is so much bigger than it already was. The imagery of God watering us just hit in a different way than it has before. I understood that I am like that little herb, and God’s loving care showers down on me and helps me grow. I’ve grown a lot from where I started, and God can grow me even more.

This morning was superficially hard. Nothing major happened, but a bunch of minor annoyances made me lose sight of my purpose for today. [Side note: baby girl had a series of several weeks where she just woke up cranky and stayed that way all day. She was defiant and just plain mean. I decided I needed to help set a better example of gratefulness, especially in the mornings. So, we started doing what I call a “thankful board.” Each morning as she eats her breakfast, we read a story out of her Bible book, then make a list of three things we are thankful for. Sometimes she says things that are right in front of her (milk, doughnuts, etc.), which is fine. But sometimes she pulls stuff from nowhere and leaves me astounded. One morning, she said she was thankful for her eyes. The other day, she came up with “breath.” Long side note – sorry] So this morning baby girl woke up grumpy and didn’t want to do her thankful board. I was trying to keep my cool and encourage her, and she finally decided we would do it. We read the Bible story about Jonah and then I asked what she was thankful for. She said “nothing,” and didn’t want to do it. I told her that was okay and that I would write down some things I was thankful for instead. Then she said, “no, no, I want to do it!” She immediately listed off, seemingly out of nowhere, “water, singing birds, and letters!” The water could have been from the Jonah story, but she hadn’t said anything about it before that moment. Anyway, that was my first “water hint” of the day. As the day went on and those minor annoyances I mentioned compounded, I could feel myself getting more nervous, anxious, and on edge. I was also physically thirsty. I kept hearing this still, small voice whisper that I needed to be “refreshed.” That particular word is not one that I generally think to use, so it was strange to me that it kept popping into my head. I had just laid baby girl down for a nap, started a cup of coffee, and turned on The Dick Van Dyke Show (my go-to feel-good show) when I felt a nagging. I will admit that I didn’t listen to it right away. I watched an episode and and finished my coffee, but my bible was sitting in front of me on the coffee table, just waiting to be opened. When I finally reached and grabbed it, I decided that I needed a pick-me-up, so I turned to Psalms. This passage jumped out at me. I read it, and the day’s “theme” just made complete sense. I did feel refreshed. I felt renewed. My attitude completely changed. I’m so incredibly thankful for the way God works. I love the gentle reminders and loving nudges He sends us through the Holy Spirit. And I’m always in awe of how He can use something in His word that I’ve read before to speak to me in a completely new way.

Tithe

Last week was a crazy week. This week has been much more calm, and I’ve had some time to process. So, it all started two weekends ago, actually, when a car that we normally couldn’t afford showed up at my husband’s work (he works in the automotive industry) in exactly our price range. We had been discussing needing a new one in the near future – ours has the possibility of some transmission issues and our extended warranty has expired. We’ve always had issues with the air conditioning not being cool enough, and there’s no rear A/C, so it takes baby girl forever to cool down in the backseat in the summer. Plus, the paint looks awful (and I know that doesn’t affect how well the car drives, but it literally looks like I drove through an acid hail storm.) I did not think, however, we would be thinking about purchasing another one so soon. Anyway, this car turns up and it checks all the boxes on my “must-have” list for a new car: heated seats (we had these in a previous car and I miss them so much), heated mirrors, rear heating and air, and enough room for all our stuff – especially the mound of stuff we take on vacation with us. My husband inquired about the car and turns out, it was priced that low by mistake, but they’re willing to honor it. Well, that seemed too perfect. So, that night he and I discussed it, then I prayed about it before bed. I had a very clear dream that night that I asked God for a sign that we should buy this car, and He provided it. But, still clearer in my dream, God told me to give Him what was His first. We’ve been spotty tithers the last few years. At first, I blamed it on the new baby, then “mom brain” made me forget, but somewhere along the way I let it become of little importance in my mind. I’d give when I remembered, and sometimes not even then because we had extra bills that month or whatever. You don’t have to give me a tithing sermon, I know deep in my soul the importance of giving God back what He so graciously gives us. I just let it become a wedge. It kept separating me further and further from God’s plan for my life. It wasn’t good. Then a few months ago, hubby told me that our church was now doing automatic withdrawal for tithing. I know, it sounds sort of cold, but it was exactly the commitment and accountability I needed. I wanted to give, I just either let it slip my mind, or rationalized my way out of it when it came time to actually do it. I was not a “cheerful giver.” He and I both agreed that this was something we needed to do, but, again, for whatever reason, we hadn’t done it yet. So, when I had my dream, I knew exactly what we needed to do before anything else. Sunday we got the form and set up our tithes to be withdrawn from our account automatically.

Monday was incredibly warm for a February day. Our hot water had been running out pretty quickly for some time, so hubby went to Lowe’s and got an element to change out to see if that helped. Baby girl and I had already played outside, but daddy was going and she wanted to go too. I really had more work I needed to do, but I put it off until later and took her back outside (a 10 or 11 PM clock out time is pretty normal for me anymore.) Hubby got under the house and started working on the water heater. He came out a few minutes later and told me that the whole bottom of the unit had rusted out, and there was no way to fix it. My mind immediately started spinning. We had talked about, down the road that included a home improvement loan, putting in a tankless water heater. I start trying to figure out how to make something work, but my head just kept getting fuzzy. Too. Much. Big. Decision. Making. We talked about calling a plumber we know and discussing our options with him, but it was already like 5 PM, and it was supposed to rain the rest of the week. Hubby ended up finding a tank that would fit in our short crawlspace in stock at Lowe’s, so he went off to get that while I fed baby girl dinner. He got home and started working while I put baby girl to bed. I finally went out to check on him and I felt so helpless. I asked what I could do to help, and he said, “just keep me company.” There was a lot of crawling around in the dirt under the house, turning on faucets, and walking back and forth through the yard. My sweet husband was under the house on his hands and knees in the dark working so hard so that we could have hot water. He’s literally the best.

Tuesday morning baby girl woke up a few minutes earlier than usual screaming her head off. She had a stuffy nose, but other than that seemed fine. She ate a few bites of breakfast and said she was done. As the morning went on, I could tell she was congested. I called the pediatrician to find out the correct dosage for some benadryl, and we turned the shower on really hot and sat in the steamy bathroom for a while. When we got out, she really started acting pitiful. I could hear that she had some drainage in her throat, and she ended up gagging on it and throwing up. I thought that was all it was, but she ended up vomiting about 10 times throughout the day. She couldn’t keep anything down.

Wednesday she was almost more pitiful because you could tell she felt better enough to want to play, but she didn’t have the energy to. She barely ate all day, but did eat a fairly good dinner. We sat on the couch and cuddled most of the day.

Thursday she was much more like herself, with only a few pitiful moments in between. She still hardly ate anything. That morning I had so much energy. I changed the sheets and washed the dirty ones, started straightening up a spot in our bedroom that has been a mess since we moved here, did more laundry, did some proactive and productive things for work, did the dishes, and just straightened up anything else out of place along the way. I was so stinking productive. I was sitting on the couch working when baby girl woke up from her nap. I went to get up, and I noticed I was kind of sore all over. My throat had been a little scratchy that morning, but I figured it was sleeping with my mouth open. That afternoon, I could feel constant drainage running down the back of my throat, and it was getting progressively worse. By the time 3 o’clock rolled around, I was pretty miserable. That night I laid in bed and my arms and legs just ached. I could barely swallow and when I did I gagged on what was in my throat. My poor, sweet girl… no wonder she was pitiful. It was miserable. Luckily I skipped the vomiting part, but it’s now Monday night and I’m still not 100%

Sweet girl starting to feel better. Dressing up and a good book are a great remedy for the yuckies.

Baby girl and I stayed home from church yesterday so we didn’t spread our germs and I’m glad we did. She had a meltdown after she woke up from her nap that lasted an hour. I’m still not exactly sure what was wrong, but she acted like something hurt. We finally gave her some pain medicine and after it had just enough time to kick in, she finally calmed down. Even today, she’s had crying spells, she hasn’t wanted to walk much at all but instead wants to be carried everywhere, and we’ve sat and cuddled more than we’ve done anything else. I told my husband today that I’m not going to lie – I kind of like it when she starts whining [okay, I really don’t like the whining part] and says, “I need to cuddle mama.” There were months and months after she was born, maybe even a whole year, where she just did not like to cuddle. So, even though it’s not super conducive to me getting things done, it makes me happy to hear that she wants to cuddle. I do hate that it’s because she doesn’t feel good. We’re going on a week that she’s been off.

Anyway, we made a commitment to give God some of the money He has blessed us with, and look, satan immediately freaked out. He attacked us hard. Nope, I’m not taking that money back to pay for whatever you’re throwing at me. You can’t threaten me. I KNOW that when I bless God, a wonderful side effect of it is that He will bless me right back again. I have no room for your financial strains and sickness. Bye.

The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully… He who supplies the seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

2 Corinthians 9:6 & 10

So, obviously it’s Wednesday now…I started writing this last week and finished Monday. Word vomit. I think I write these things to process them, to kind of take a step back and see them from a different perspective than the one I have when I’m smack dab in the middle of it. Also, it’s way easier to recognize satan’s attacks when you take a step back. I think I also just want to remember these things. Broken water heaters and sickness are real life. It may not be the picture-perfect moment that I’ll remember 20 years from now, but it’s still our life right now.

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.

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.

Guilt.

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.

Me.

I haven’t written anything (besides my bible journal) in a while. I guess my recent anxiety is trying to hold on, because I just haven’t really felt like writing. I started typing out something similar to this the other night and got distracted. I just looked for it, and it was nowhere to be found – my phone deleted it. In talking with the husband, he pointed out that someone (ahem, satan) doesn’t want me writing. I’ve had an excuse why I shouldn’t or don’t want to the last several times I have sat down to do it. I was talking to him just now about it, waved my arms around (as I often do while talking… what can I say? I’m animated) and completely tossed my phone across the room as a loud, thunderous echo resounded through the house and down the hall to where I’m sure my sleeping toddler could hear. I literally started crying. A) because that proved right what he had just said… there have been so many distractions and emotional setbacks over the past few weeks that have prevented me from writing, and B) because I was stinking embarrassed. I’m a spaz, and I’ll be the first to admit it, but GOOD GRIEF. So, I guess I’ll just write. Whether I know what I’m going to say or not, whether I think it’s good or not. I’ve got to start again somewhere.

For those of you following my health, some new things have happened. Keep in mind: I am thirty one years old. I finally visited a primary care physician for the first time in my adult life. My blood pressure during my visit was through the roof, and the nurse practitioner I saw didn’t like it at all. We discussed a few options, and landed on a low dose of beta blockers. She said that not only would it help my blood pressure, but also my anxiety and migraines. So, I’ve been taking those for about a week and a half, and I have been checking my own blood pressure at home at least once a day. I’ve been told that I have white coat syndrome before, and I know that is a lot of why my blood pressure is high when I go to the doctor. I get so worked up about it… I even freak out using the machine at the grocery store. I don’t know what my problem is… I told my mom the other day that it hurts my arm, and I think that is part of the reason I get so upset – because I’m anticipating the pain. She said that it doesn’t hurt her, but that my granny used to always say the same thing – that it hurt. So, I’ve been taking it a lot lately, trying to desensitize myself to the cuff. The other day, I took it five times in a row because it was a little higher than it had been at first. I got it down substantially just by doing it over and over again – it literally went down a little every time. So, that’s where I am… constantly being aware of my heart rate and taking a “grandma dose” of blood pressure medication, as my nurse practitioner called it. I’m going to get labs done to recheck my cholesterol (fasting this time) and some other things this week. Then I will go back for a more comprehensive physical at the end of the month. It’s been so long since I have seen a doctor, I have a huge list of concerns… she’ll probably think I’m a hypochondriac. And she’ll probably be right. Everytime I have a random pain in my arms or legs, I pretty much convince myself that it’s a blood clot or that I’m getting ready to have a stroke. Yeah, that definitely helps my anxiety… The other night, I had sharp pains from my rib cage, up into my chest, and down my arm. I was pretty convinced I was having a heart attack. Then the husband pushed on my stomach, I let out a huge belch, everything shifted a little, and I realized it was probably just a gas bubble pressing on a nerve or something. Ugh.

Some other random thoughts:

Baby girl’s favorite word is “no” at the moment and she will disagree with whatever you say, it doesn’t matter what it is. She liked Halloween, but a boy in one of those blow-up dinosaur costumes really made her day. She keeps talking about it whenever anybody asks her about Halloween, and the last two nights, we’ve thanked God for dinosaurs in our prayers. She kills me. She’s also been very clingy the last few days. And as much as l love to hear her say, “cuddle mama,” I do have a job that I sort of have to do some of the time. It killed me this past week when I was working, and she kept coming over to my desk and saying, “mama play with you [me]?” How can I say no to that? How do work at home parents get work done? My job is only part time, and my new normal the last few weeks has been finishing up my work after she goes to bed (which, by the way, annoyingly cuts into husband time). Balance is hard. I feel guilty when I’m actually productive for work, because that usually means that baby girl has been left to entertain herself for hours, or has been dragged all over creation with me in the car. I also feel guilty when I spend the day with her, because I feel like I’m not contributing enough financially to our family. Mom guilt is rough.

A screen shot of a typical time sheet for me. Clocked in 12 hours, only worked less than five. A lot of times, it’s even less.

Baby girl and I have gotten back to taking morning walks. I love getting to spend the time with her, starting our day exploring outside, and getting in a small workout for me. Twice around our neighborhood is about a mile, and I know that’s not much. But, out of shape me works up a sweat and gets a couple thousand steps in. I figure that’s better than nothing.

Love our morning walks, even if we have to bundle up quite a bit now that the weather is chillier.

Well, now that I’ve broken the ice again, maybe I’ll get back to writing more regularly. I don’t know what kind of writing funk I’m in, but it can go away now. I’ll probably post a bible journal entry or two next time. I have several earmarked that I felt were important to share.

Rollercoaster.

This week. This week has been a week. Last night, I contemplated on this week, trying to look back and see my blessings. Monday started like this:

I’m trying to decompress from this day, and I’m just not sure how to do it. Besides the two loads of dishes I ran in the dishwasher, I got absolutely nothing done. I’m completely exhausted. This kid of mine is going through something, and I pray to God it’s just a phase. I think she’s testing her free will, but I wish she would just stop. Every other thing I ask her to do is answered with, “no,” the last few days, and I’m not handling it well. This morning, me asking her to clean up her blocks turned into a huge fight, and I ended up screaming at my child. The worst part, to me, is that none of it phased her. Speaking sternly did nothing. Physically picking her up and putting her in front of the blocks was apparently hysterical. Me raising my voice was also funny. Me swatting her bottom was a game. I finally just screamed. I was so mean. She jumped and finally started crying. I immediately felt terrible and started sobbing as well. It was awful. I left the room for a minute to compose myself, and left her just standing there crying. When I came back, I was more sad than mad, and just scooped her up and hugged her. I tried to explain to her that it makes mama sad when she says, “no,” to me and doesn’t listen. We cuddled a bit, I was trying to defuse the situation. After I thought we had both calmed down, I tried again to get her to put the blocks away. She started doing everything but that again, and I did not want a repeat of what had just happened. I tried telling her that it was almost lunchtime; that didn’t really matter to her. I finally gave up and just let her roam around her room for a few minutes, stalling. It really was lunchtime now, and I was wondering how stubborn she was really going to be about it all. She finally looked at me and said, “eat?” I asked her if she was hungry and she said yes. So, she picked up all her blocks and put them away… it had to be her idea, not something I was telling her to do. Ugh.

Is it because she is a mini version of me and I know exactly what she’s thinking when she acts like this that I get so very angry? She’s pushing limits, resisting authority. I get it, I do it too, just most of the time it’s in a much more passive (sometimes passive-aggressive) way. I understand the desire to do the exact opposite of what someone tells me to do, simply because they told me to do it. I understand getting defensive when someone tries to tell me they know what’s best for me. But for goodness sakes, she’s ONE AND A HALF. Should she even feel like this yet? Or does she simply just not want to clean up her toys. Maybe I’m projecting.

We tried on this bathing suit for vacation Tuesday night, and she was very adamant about wearing it the rest of the night… I think she was perfecting her Fancy Nancy look with those socks.

Then yesterday, I was just anxious all day. Like heart racing, body trembling, feeling of dread, edge of a full-blown anxiety attack kind of anxious, and I don’t even know why. I told my hubby last night – usually when I get like that, I have an idea (even if it’s somewhat vague) of what is stressing me out; I usually kind of know what exactly has me feeling that way. Not yesterday. I was seemingly having a physiological response to nothing. I still don’t know what had me so upset.

Today was pretty good. We all slept in a few extra minutes, baby girl woke up in a very good mood and stayed that way all day, and I’ve just generally felt better. It’s really been a pretty good day.

We’ll see about Saturday. In baby girl’s babbling earlier, I clearly heard her say, “doughnut ‘morrow,” so we’ll see how thoroughly disappointed she is in the morning that there aren’t any doughnuts… I know I’m already pretty disappointed about it.

Even after this week, I’m so very thankful that the “mundane, everyday” stuff is all we have to worry about. Life could be, and has been before, much more complicated. Work hasn’t been very demanding this week, and I’m so very grateful for that. With that being said, I am still mentally exhausted. I need a vacation.