"There can be no real individual freedom in the presence of economic insecurity." -Chester Bowles
Too many times this last week I have found myself on the verge of tears. Not from physical pain, or emotional trauma. But from a deeply grieved heart. In the evenings I find myself checking the news on the Wii before I watch a show. And every day I am shocked and appalled at the condition of our world. Of our nation. Murders. Shootings. Politics. Unemployment issues. Rape. Terrorist attempts. Drug busts. The list goes on.
I find myself wanting to weep for each life that was lost. I get angry with selfish politicians and higher-ups. I admit I become fearful and wonder if the next attack may be on my hometown, my family, my husband's job, my life. No one is immune.
Christmas is coming soon and I absolutely love everything about this holiday. Decorations, both homemade and store bought. I love setting up the nativity that my mom painted for me 10 years ago, and the stable my dad and husband made before we were married. The paper snowflakes, candle holders, window clings, and eventually the tree. Christmas music played constantly, hot chocolate and candy canes. Bundling up to go look at all the lights. Everything about this holiday entrances me.
But this year I am feeling a little blue. I'm not concerned about being able to provide a rich Christmas for my kids, for I know they are loved and spoiled by multitudes of family. We will never want. :) I am not worried about power outages causing a lack of heat, for we have a full woodshed and a very powerful woodstove. We shall not want for food, either, with a stocked pantry and fridge/freezer.
So why am I blue? Well, how can anyone not feel even slightly unsettled by taking a good look around? Did you know that the national unemployment rate is still at 9.3? That means millions of people are without jobs right now, and many of them are about to lose their unemployment compensation this month. How absolutely awful it would be to know Christmas is 24 days away and you will have no income whatsoever. It's heartbreaking.
I know we have things a whole lot better than it was back during the Depression. But I know that for every person who seems to have it all together, there are dozens more who are suffering right now. A single mother looking in the cupboard and finding maybe a simple bag of potatoes. A father loses his job due to outsourcing is foreclosed on and his family is now on the streets. Mentally disabled people are being abused. Children sexually molested, schools with shootings, bullied gays (and straights) committing suicide, pastors "coming out,", a society that believes marriage as an institution is no longer needed, everything evil corrupting our very lives.
This is why my heart hurts. I am appalled that Washington looks at the sorry state of our nation and announces they are freezing the pay of federal employees, listing the salaries of congressmen to be in the multiple hundreds of thousands. And MILLIONS of people are living beneath the national poverty rate of under $25,ooo for a family of four. I would not be a very good politically correct politician. I could not stand to look at those numbers and continue at the same rate of pay. One could argue, "Oh, they earn their money. Politics is a very difficult field." What about the men in the coal mines, the waitresses making minimum wage, even security officers barely scraping by? Every single job in this nation has importance. And every job has it's troubles. I don't think any job in the world is worth hundreds of thousands of dollars more than any other. The politician would not survive without the grocer, or the farmer, or the electrician, or the jail guard, or the teachers. We are all connected and intertwined, we cannot escape each other.
I am sad. I am sad that life is not ideal. I am sad that people are in pain and children go hungry. I am sad that people willfully hurt the people that they love, and that morals are being forsaken every day.
The only bright spot in all this is that the very thing we are about to celebrate is the birth of the one who came as a savior to this poor, pathetic world. The one who brings hope, life, deliverance and is just and kind to all. He was a man like us and saw the depravity of men. He saw the "righteous" acting unrighteously, he saw war ravaged lands, people killing people, hungry children and abused women. He saw us in our stupidity and humbleness, and he still chose to die in our place. To be the "magic eraser" to clean our hearts of it's nastiness.
Let Jesus be your hope this season. Let his love shine through you. Let us truly be his hands and feet as we live in this fallen world. What can we do, as believers and followers of Christ, to somehow make this evil nation better? That is your mission. That is your goal. To leave this world better than when you got here. To light up the darkness with His light.
13 “You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless.
14 “You are the light of the world—like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden. 15 No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house. 16 In the same way, let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.
-Matthew 5:13-16
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Dream
Each of us has an inner dream that we can unfold if we will just have the courage to admit what it is. And the faith to trust our own admission. The admitting is often very difficult. ~Julia Cameron
Just think: each person you see, each life on the other end of the phone line, each silhouette in the distance; every person alive today has a dream. Just ponder that thought for a moment. What does that mean?
Search within yourself and find what it is you dream of. Is it something that can be held? Is it a state of mind? Is it based on memory or frivolity? What would it take to see this dream realized? Do you feel the desire building to see this vision come to pass?
Now, picture something else for me. In your mind's eye, look at your best friend. Your high school English teacher. Your boss. Your child's best friend's mom (who doesn't give you the time of day). Your spouse. What do you see? Do you see someone you would like to be? Maybe you can't stand the person, or perhaps you'd just as soon forget you'd ever met them.
Each and every one of these people you have pictured in your mind are just like you in one aspect: they have dreams. They have hopes of accomplishing something amazing. Writing a book. Being a star. Ending world hunger. Raising a family.
Perhaps if we could all step beyond ourselves and our own lofty ambitions and selfish goals, and learn to see each of our fellow human beings for what they really are (dreamers like ourselves), we would begin to see a decrease in loneliness, self-hatred, and isolation. If we were to come along side one another and make a pledge to help fulfill the dreams of our neighbor, what an amazingly joyful world we would live in! There would be fulfilled dreams of all shapes and sizes: marriages would be saved, our church ministries would be able to touch the lives of millions, we may actually see the end of world hunger, the American Dream would become a reality again.
Begin to look at the people you come in contact with as dreamers. You may be at the checkout stand and the cashier seems to be having a bad day. Is it their dream to work at a grocery store all day? Are they fulfilled? What can you do? As we approach the holidays and are in frequent contact with close friends and family, begin to look beyond the faces you know and love, and ponder what silent dream they may be holding inside.
I dare you to begin taking steps to make your dream a reality. What would it take? Is it worth it? How bad do you really want it? And...what are you waiting for?
Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.
Just think: each person you see, each life on the other end of the phone line, each silhouette in the distance; every person alive today has a dream. Just ponder that thought for a moment. What does that mean?
Search within yourself and find what it is you dream of. Is it something that can be held? Is it a state of mind? Is it based on memory or frivolity? What would it take to see this dream realized? Do you feel the desire building to see this vision come to pass?
Now, picture something else for me. In your mind's eye, look at your best friend. Your high school English teacher. Your boss. Your child's best friend's mom (who doesn't give you the time of day). Your spouse. What do you see? Do you see someone you would like to be? Maybe you can't stand the person, or perhaps you'd just as soon forget you'd ever met them.
Each and every one of these people you have pictured in your mind are just like you in one aspect: they have dreams. They have hopes of accomplishing something amazing. Writing a book. Being a star. Ending world hunger. Raising a family.
Perhaps if we could all step beyond ourselves and our own lofty ambitions and selfish goals, and learn to see each of our fellow human beings for what they really are (dreamers like ourselves), we would begin to see a decrease in loneliness, self-hatred, and isolation. If we were to come along side one another and make a pledge to help fulfill the dreams of our neighbor, what an amazingly joyful world we would live in! There would be fulfilled dreams of all shapes and sizes: marriages would be saved, our church ministries would be able to touch the lives of millions, we may actually see the end of world hunger, the American Dream would become a reality again.
Begin to look at the people you come in contact with as dreamers. You may be at the checkout stand and the cashier seems to be having a bad day. Is it their dream to work at a grocery store all day? Are they fulfilled? What can you do? As we approach the holidays and are in frequent contact with close friends and family, begin to look beyond the faces you know and love, and ponder what silent dream they may be holding inside.
I dare you to begin taking steps to make your dream a reality. What would it take? Is it worth it? How bad do you really want it? And...what are you waiting for?
Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.
Friday, September 24, 2010
A few weeks ago my oldest son asked a question that let to me having to discuss reproduction. When I later told my husband what I had said to DS1 he was slightly shocked. Now, when I explained myself, that DS1 had been asking more and more questions, and that I was giving the age appropriate condensed answers, my husband relaxed. We have always tried to be open with the boys about body parts and their names. It can be embarrassing, having them nonchalantly mention the name of a certain body part in the presence of someone else, but we feel it's healthier this way than keeping hush-hush about everything.
Another interesting thing I have noticed about my boys is how much they do NOT listen. I have learned this is a pretty common problem in raising boys, and have found Dr. James Dobson's "Bringing Up Boys" to be extremely helpful. If you suffer from the same seemingly hearing impaired family members like I do, here are some helpful hints (that always seem harder to implement in the heat of the moment):
*Be sure you have your son's attention when giving them direction.
*Physical contact works wonders...a hand on the shoulder, hugs, hands on either side of his face.
*EYE CONTACT, and not the glazed over staring into space look. Make sure your son looks you in the eye when you are giving direction.
*Have him repeat back to you what you just said.
*Expect an immediate response. If he waits to finish what he's doing, i.e. book, video game, etc., he'll most likely forget what you told him to do.
***These also help in communicating with husbands.
Recently, I was blessed by giving birth to a beautiful little girl, and I have since been finding out how truly different boys and girls are. Where my boys instinctively make car noises when playing with Hot Wheels, DD1 either chews on the cars, or holds it to her ear and says "Hi."
The boys would hear us say "No. That's not a cupboard for you to play in," and they would pick up the pace to beat us to the off limits object. Now, DD1 will sometimes do the same (after all, it's in our nature to want what we can't have), but she is determined to make us feel bad about denying her anything she wants. She'll wail and flop on the ground with great big crocodile tears flowing down her cheeks, and her face will turn splotchy from crying. Talk about emotional!
I finally finished reading Dr. James Dobson's "Bringing Up Girls" and found a few things interesting enough to stick with me.
*From the ages of 6 months to 3 years, a baby girl's brain is bathed in estrogen at an extreme amount. So when your little girl seems to be PMS-ing, she is (in a weird sort of way). Crabby one minute, lovey the next, never know exactly what she's thinking, cries like you're torturing her when she doesn't get her way....Dr. Dobson calls this the first puberty.
*A loving and involved father brings so many blessings to a little girl, but an interesting tidbit is this; the daughter of an involved father may experience a delay in puberty. When a girl is young, her body is picking up her daddy's pheromones and chemical reactions are taking place in her body. This reaction can delay the onset of early puberty, which in turn can protect her from certain diseases in the future. It's obviously not fool proof, but it definitely makes sense. At the beginning of time, when life was all about surviving, if a girl lost her father early on, it could be a death sentence. With her father gone, her body would not be picking up on those fatherly pheromones, which in turn tells her body to become a woman early on. This would make her a candidate for marriage, which would in turn bring her safety and protection from her husband.
So, all that being said, we've got a lot of varying dynamics in our household. We have two rambunctious boys vying for dominance, and a little girl in the middle of her first puberty. Phew, it's exhausting! But so worth it!
Another interesting thing I have noticed about my boys is how much they do NOT listen. I have learned this is a pretty common problem in raising boys, and have found Dr. James Dobson's "Bringing Up Boys" to be extremely helpful. If you suffer from the same seemingly hearing impaired family members like I do, here are some helpful hints (that always seem harder to implement in the heat of the moment):
*Be sure you have your son's attention when giving them direction.
*Physical contact works wonders...a hand on the shoulder, hugs, hands on either side of his face.
*EYE CONTACT, and not the glazed over staring into space look. Make sure your son looks you in the eye when you are giving direction.
*Have him repeat back to you what you just said.
*Expect an immediate response. If he waits to finish what he's doing, i.e. book, video game, etc., he'll most likely forget what you told him to do.
***These also help in communicating with husbands.
Recently, I was blessed by giving birth to a beautiful little girl, and I have since been finding out how truly different boys and girls are. Where my boys instinctively make car noises when playing with Hot Wheels, DD1 either chews on the cars, or holds it to her ear and says "Hi."
The boys would hear us say "No. That's not a cupboard for you to play in," and they would pick up the pace to beat us to the off limits object. Now, DD1 will sometimes do the same (after all, it's in our nature to want what we can't have), but she is determined to make us feel bad about denying her anything she wants. She'll wail and flop on the ground with great big crocodile tears flowing down her cheeks, and her face will turn splotchy from crying. Talk about emotional!
I finally finished reading Dr. James Dobson's "Bringing Up Girls" and found a few things interesting enough to stick with me.
*From the ages of 6 months to 3 years, a baby girl's brain is bathed in estrogen at an extreme amount. So when your little girl seems to be PMS-ing, she is (in a weird sort of way). Crabby one minute, lovey the next, never know exactly what she's thinking, cries like you're torturing her when she doesn't get her way....Dr. Dobson calls this the first puberty.
*A loving and involved father brings so many blessings to a little girl, but an interesting tidbit is this; the daughter of an involved father may experience a delay in puberty. When a girl is young, her body is picking up her daddy's pheromones and chemical reactions are taking place in her body. This reaction can delay the onset of early puberty, which in turn can protect her from certain diseases in the future. It's obviously not fool proof, but it definitely makes sense. At the beginning of time, when life was all about surviving, if a girl lost her father early on, it could be a death sentence. With her father gone, her body would not be picking up on those fatherly pheromones, which in turn tells her body to become a woman early on. This would make her a candidate for marriage, which would in turn bring her safety and protection from her husband.
So, all that being said, we've got a lot of varying dynamics in our household. We have two rambunctious boys vying for dominance, and a little girl in the middle of her first puberty. Phew, it's exhausting! But so worth it!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Reflections
I have been really wanting to write again, searching for ideas, and at times finding them. But those would undoubtedly be the times when I was about to put the kids to bed, or leave the house, and would soon forget what it was I was going to write. And I sat down tonight intent on discovering just the right thing to blog about, and nothing came to mind. I thought to myself several times, "I just don't see where I've changed."
And then I thought, well, maybe that's the problem.
Have you ever seen the movie "Mulan"? I have always loved the song Mulan sings partway through while watching her reflection in the water. "Who is that girl I see staring straight back at me? When will my reflection show who I am inside?" There is just this haunting searching cry that I feel my own heart echo each time I hear that song. Who am I? Why do I feel so different on the inside than the me I show on the outside? Does everyone look different on the inside, or is it just me?
But why do I still feel this way? I thought these thoughts of longing and misplacement were issues only adolescents deal with. I thought that once I crossed the threshold of motherhood, wife-hood, or at least the ripe ole' age of 25 I would somehow be exempt from feelings of inadequacy and loneliness. And I am learning that, unfortunately, I was wrong.
When do we as women (or men if any man should ever choose to read this) finally reach a point in life where we are content with who we are, the choices we have made and will make, and are truly real both inside and out? I'm sure it's different for every person, that we can't set an age to it. I wish we could. It would be so assuring to be able to say, "Well Kei; I know you don't feel very confident/beautiful/competent/important/interesting/etc..... right now, but you only have 2 years left until you reach fulfillment! Keep plugging away and you'll make it!" How wonderful that would be!
The other night I watched a new Veggie Tales movie: Sweet Pea Beauty. It was very princessy. I love the illustration there was when the queen became uglier in action and thought, she also became uglier on the outside. In comparison, Sweet Pea Beauty was kind, sweet (of course), compassionate and generous, and was beautiful on the outside as well. The Bible verse QWERTY quoted at the end was "Charm is deceitful, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." Proverbs 31:30.
The Bible also says to "delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." Psalms 37:4.
A person can put 2 and 2 together and come to the conclusion that I know I must have heard before a dozen times. Delight in the Lord. Love Him. Obey Him. Keep His commands. Love your fellow man (the second commandment in Jesus version). Delight in the Lord and the desires that He has placed in your heart to prosper you will be given to you. The beauty, the confidence, the success we try so hard to achieve are all things we look to to make us happy and fulfill us. But we are left feeling empty and unknown because they can never take the place of our awesome creator and Father.
So, will anyone embark on this journey of learning to delight in the Lord with me? Does anyone else even need to embark, or are you already there? I know I cannot be alone in this place, that there is someone else out there feeling the same as me. What will we do about it? Continue to feel lonely, or unloved, or unsatisfied? Or will we choose to take the first step?
*Definitely watch the second video.
And then I thought, well, maybe that's the problem.
Have you ever seen the movie "Mulan"? I have always loved the song Mulan sings partway through while watching her reflection in the water. "Who is that girl I see staring straight back at me? When will my reflection show who I am inside?" There is just this haunting searching cry that I feel my own heart echo each time I hear that song. Who am I? Why do I feel so different on the inside than the me I show on the outside? Does everyone look different on the inside, or is it just me?
But why do I still feel this way? I thought these thoughts of longing and misplacement were issues only adolescents deal with. I thought that once I crossed the threshold of motherhood, wife-hood, or at least the ripe ole' age of 25 I would somehow be exempt from feelings of inadequacy and loneliness. And I am learning that, unfortunately, I was wrong.
When do we as women (or men if any man should ever choose to read this) finally reach a point in life where we are content with who we are, the choices we have made and will make, and are truly real both inside and out? I'm sure it's different for every person, that we can't set an age to it. I wish we could. It would be so assuring to be able to say, "Well Kei; I know you don't feel very confident/beautiful/competent/important/interesting/etc..... right now, but you only have 2 years left until you reach fulfillment! Keep plugging away and you'll make it!" How wonderful that would be!
The other night I watched a new Veggie Tales movie: Sweet Pea Beauty. It was very princessy. I love the illustration there was when the queen became uglier in action and thought, she also became uglier on the outside. In comparison, Sweet Pea Beauty was kind, sweet (of course), compassionate and generous, and was beautiful on the outside as well. The Bible verse QWERTY quoted at the end was "Charm is deceitful, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." Proverbs 31:30.
The Bible also says to "delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." Psalms 37:4.
A person can put 2 and 2 together and come to the conclusion that I know I must have heard before a dozen times. Delight in the Lord. Love Him. Obey Him. Keep His commands. Love your fellow man (the second commandment in Jesus version). Delight in the Lord and the desires that He has placed in your heart to prosper you will be given to you. The beauty, the confidence, the success we try so hard to achieve are all things we look to to make us happy and fulfill us. But we are left feeling empty and unknown because they can never take the place of our awesome creator and Father.
So, will anyone embark on this journey of learning to delight in the Lord with me? Does anyone else even need to embark, or are you already there? I know I cannot be alone in this place, that there is someone else out there feeling the same as me. What will we do about it? Continue to feel lonely, or unloved, or unsatisfied? Or will we choose to take the first step?
*Definitely watch the second video.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Words to a Baby
I was reading back through the journal I have kept for and about DS1. I started it when I was about 3 months pregnant with him. What amazed me was 1)How often I wrote in it before he was born. Shouldn't be so surprised since I was at home all day w/ no one to take care of. 2)How much of it probably won't mean much to anyone but me and possibly him as he gets older. 3)Almost every entry mentions something about how fast he is growing, or "I can't believe you're already ____ months old." or something like that.
Now, I know it really won't mean as much to anyone else, but I thought I'd share a few of the sweeter tidbits from here and there.
May 4, 2005: You are so wonderful. My life revolves around you. I constantly am waiting for your next movement, anticipating what new foods will cause you to do, and enjoying feeling you play hide-and-seek with everyone. No one but your daddy has been able to feel you.
May 14, 2005: I'm so anxious for you to get here. I wish they could do a c-section this week, just so I can have you. But you still have 8 weeks left. I know it will go by fast, and that is my only consolation.
September 16, 2006: I love you so much. Every day my heart just fills with more and more love for you. I can't believe how much love I have for you. You are my Sweetheart, my "Booger," my big boy. You are so cute and adorable. I love watching you sleep in the car. Your cheeks all cute and chubby, and your lips pooch out.
October 25, 2006: I have to keep telling myself, "I do love my kids, I do, I do..." Oh, there are days, like today, when I want to pull my hair out. Both you and DS2 have been pills. And you with your new found attitude. It drives me crazy!
March 12, 2010: Oh, what a character you are! You are 4 1/2 now, and full of your own opinions and thoughts. You are inquisitive and a good leader. I read somewhere recently that preschoolers ask an average of 75 questions an hour---and you seem determined to prove that!
July 14, 2010: Well, no longer are you 4. You have had your 5th birthday, and you are really embracing the self proclaimed idea that being 5 means you get special privileges. We are having to remind you constantly that you are still a child and you do still have to follow the rules and be nice.........You are so excited for all the wonderful adventures that life holds for you. One that comes to mind is losing your teeth. On your birthday you felt your teeth, then exclaimed "I'm not 5 yet! My teeth aren't wiggly!"
I have really enjoyed keeping journals for my 3 kids. It is a challenge to keep up with them. But it is so rewarding and special to be able to look back at how much they, and I, have changed. To see how I felt about what was going on at the time, to read the words of wisdom and insight I try to pass on to them. To see how many words they have said by certain points, or what new milestone they were reaching. It brings back so many memories.
I would really encourage anyone out there to try this. To keep a journal for each of your children. You can use any format you want, any content you want. Maybe it will be full of facts and milestones. Maybe Bible verses. Maybe you will write it as a letter, or maybe just a list of what happened that day. Any way you choose to do it, you will cherish it, and your child will adore you for it (when they are old enough to appreciate it!).
How wonderful to not let these moments disappear in the past. But to preserve the ups and downs, to glean our own wisdom someday in the future. I am so excited for the day I can hand this journal to my son, and maybe even watch him as he reads. I would love to talk with him, and remember each day with him. To see how far we've come. And to dream about what is next.
Now, I know it really won't mean as much to anyone else, but I thought I'd share a few of the sweeter tidbits from here and there.
May 4, 2005: You are so wonderful. My life revolves around you. I constantly am waiting for your next movement, anticipating what new foods will cause you to do, and enjoying feeling you play hide-and-seek with everyone. No one but your daddy has been able to feel you.
May 14, 2005: I'm so anxious for you to get here. I wish they could do a c-section this week, just so I can have you. But you still have 8 weeks left. I know it will go by fast, and that is my only consolation.
September 16, 2006: I love you so much. Every day my heart just fills with more and more love for you. I can't believe how much love I have for you. You are my Sweetheart, my "Booger," my big boy. You are so cute and adorable. I love watching you sleep in the car. Your cheeks all cute and chubby, and your lips pooch out.
October 25, 2006: I have to keep telling myself, "I do love my kids, I do, I do..." Oh, there are days, like today, when I want to pull my hair out. Both you and DS2 have been pills. And you with your new found attitude. It drives me crazy!
March 12, 2010: Oh, what a character you are! You are 4 1/2 now, and full of your own opinions and thoughts. You are inquisitive and a good leader. I read somewhere recently that preschoolers ask an average of 75 questions an hour---and you seem determined to prove that!
July 14, 2010: Well, no longer are you 4. You have had your 5th birthday, and you are really embracing the self proclaimed idea that being 5 means you get special privileges. We are having to remind you constantly that you are still a child and you do still have to follow the rules and be nice.........You are so excited for all the wonderful adventures that life holds for you. One that comes to mind is losing your teeth. On your birthday you felt your teeth, then exclaimed "I'm not 5 yet! My teeth aren't wiggly!"
I have really enjoyed keeping journals for my 3 kids. It is a challenge to keep up with them. But it is so rewarding and special to be able to look back at how much they, and I, have changed. To see how I felt about what was going on at the time, to read the words of wisdom and insight I try to pass on to them. To see how many words they have said by certain points, or what new milestone they were reaching. It brings back so many memories.
I would really encourage anyone out there to try this. To keep a journal for each of your children. You can use any format you want, any content you want. Maybe it will be full of facts and milestones. Maybe Bible verses. Maybe you will write it as a letter, or maybe just a list of what happened that day. Any way you choose to do it, you will cherish it, and your child will adore you for it (when they are old enough to appreciate it!).
How wonderful to not let these moments disappear in the past. But to preserve the ups and downs, to glean our own wisdom someday in the future. I am so excited for the day I can hand this journal to my son, and maybe even watch him as he reads. I would love to talk with him, and remember each day with him. To see how far we've come. And to dream about what is next.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Baby 2
I now find myself staring down another birthday, not for myself, but for my middle child. As crazy as it seems that my eldest is now a five year old, it is crazier still that my younger son is set to turn four in two days. They are but 13 months apart, and yet worlds apart in personality.
When DS1 was just 5 months old, we discovered I was pregnant again, and due shortly after his first birthday. We had spent a great deal of time deliberating over the perfect boy name for our first son and decided we had finally found it. Imagine our predicament, then, when we discovered we were now expecting another little boy in just a few short months. Names were suggested, and names were discarded. A list was made of possibilities, but nothing just reached out and "grabbed" us like Micah had. So our little baby remained nameless until 2 days before we were scheduled to be induced because he still hadn't made an appearance. Instead, we referred to him as "Baby 2".
DS2 has been distinctive from day 1. He was tongue-tied when he was born, which set off it's own little whirlwind of problems. He could not nurse because he was unable to latch on, and we were not informed that he would be able to after the skin was clipped.
DS2 rolled over the first time at 6 weeks old. His doctor didn't believe me. We thought it was a fluke thing, until he started doing it consistently, and rolling both ways. He was climbing onto the furniture before he could even crawl, and has been moving ever since. He would go through phases when he was little of fits and tantrums, from the age of only a few months old. We discovered it was connected with his level of mobility and independence. He would be extremely fussy, but then he learned to sit up on his own and the house quieted down. Pretty soon he'd grow weary of just sitting and would become fussy again. As soon as he learned to crawl, peace resumed. But then even that was not enough and the whining began again. Walking was the last mountain to conquer and with it mastered, a level of calmness reigned. But life is never truly calm in a home with 2 little boys under 2 years.
Any new mom can tell you that after having a baby, your emotions go a little haywire. Some women are left with only minimal ups and downs and are able to deal quite easily. Others are on the opposite end of the spectrum and find themselves spiraling out of control. The rest find themselves somewhere between the two. Imagine these emotions are a roller coaster. Some women ride a relatively calm coaster with a few twists and turns, but nothing too dramatic. The less fortunate find themselves thrown for a loop...literally. Upside downs, loop-d-loops, hills and steep drops. When you finally are able to step off the coaster, you may be sick to your stomach, or in the postpartum sense, in a state of recovery.
Now, imagine you've just stepped off one roller coaster, only to find yourself entering another one, this one more fierce and dramatic. The tension doubles, the nausea increases and nerves are shot.
This is precisely what I faced after my second baby was born. Raging hormones meets raging hormones. Add to that the newborn, one year old, a mother unable to help due to health reasons, and a husband who was recovering from his own health crisis. Life was CRAZY!
Now, I know that everyone's situation is different. For some women it may be a boyfriend who is non-committal, financial difficulties, feelings of inadequacy, or any number of things. But the bottom line is this: depression happens. It can happen to anyone. It shows itself in many ways. It lasts different lengths of times. And more people deal with it than you know.
My one major regret (that encompasses and affects all my other regrets) from this time in my life, is that I did not talk to a doctor about my depression. Day after day, while sitting on the floor with a screaming newborn, sobbing toddler and me out of sorts crying, I would think to myself "So this is depression; I wish I could talk to someone about this." And yet time would pass. I would get through one day only to face another, and time stretched out in front of me like an enormous desert that seems to choke you before you take the first step. It was a dark time.
If anything good can come out of that time, it would be that someone would listen when I tell my story. Someone would take the advice that I give, and that is to get help. To talk to someone, a doctor or counselor. If it means taking medicine, then do it. If it means allowing someone to help out at home, let them. If it means actually asking for help, do it. But don't shoulder everything alone. Don't carry the burden of depression on yourself. It will only stay with you longer and harm your precious children.
But this being a Mariposa blog, I am so thankful for change. Obviously if I am celebrating my DS2 turning 4, that means we are all still alive and well today, and have survived that tumultuous first year. He has grown into a sweet, caring, lovable little man that I am so proud to call my own. He fills my life with laughter and smiles, hugs and snuggles, and has come up with the funniest things to say. "You crack me up like a seat-belt!" He is quick to try whatever his big brother is doing, unless it involves pain, or possible pain, or one of the many foods that he does not like.
When I first found out I was pregnant with him, I have to say I was less than thrilled. I had barely figured out how to parent one child, then here comes number two. The first one hadn't been planned, but was welcomed with open arms and loving acceptance. Second baby, I'm afraid, was not so readily accepted.
But (and I know this sounds cliche) I can not imagine life without my DS2. My life would be so incomplete without the sound of his laughter, and the warmth of him snuggled against me as we read. I would miss the way his hair sticks up all over, no matter how long it is. I would miss his precious chocolate brown eyes and the way he crinkles them up when he smiles. I would miss his tender heart, how he will offer to hug me when I'm sad, or rub my back if I mention it being sore. He has filled my life with so many wonderful moments, I would gladly go through that awful first year again just to be with him now.
Life has a funny way of working out. Things we perceive as "curses" are sometimes blessings in disguise. A present from the Father who gives perfect gifts. A heavenly bundle wrapped in flesh, hand delivered to a parent who doesn't deserve it.
Every generous act of giving and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father who made the heavenly lights, in whom there is no inconsistency or shifting shadow. James 1:27
When DS1 was just 5 months old, we discovered I was pregnant again, and due shortly after his first birthday. We had spent a great deal of time deliberating over the perfect boy name for our first son and decided we had finally found it. Imagine our predicament, then, when we discovered we were now expecting another little boy in just a few short months. Names were suggested, and names were discarded. A list was made of possibilities, but nothing just reached out and "grabbed" us like Micah had. So our little baby remained nameless until 2 days before we were scheduled to be induced because he still hadn't made an appearance. Instead, we referred to him as "Baby 2".
DS2 has been distinctive from day 1. He was tongue-tied when he was born, which set off it's own little whirlwind of problems. He could not nurse because he was unable to latch on, and we were not informed that he would be able to after the skin was clipped.
DS2 rolled over the first time at 6 weeks old. His doctor didn't believe me. We thought it was a fluke thing, until he started doing it consistently, and rolling both ways. He was climbing onto the furniture before he could even crawl, and has been moving ever since. He would go through phases when he was little of fits and tantrums, from the age of only a few months old. We discovered it was connected with his level of mobility and independence. He would be extremely fussy, but then he learned to sit up on his own and the house quieted down. Pretty soon he'd grow weary of just sitting and would become fussy again. As soon as he learned to crawl, peace resumed. But then even that was not enough and the whining began again. Walking was the last mountain to conquer and with it mastered, a level of calmness reigned. But life is never truly calm in a home with 2 little boys under 2 years.
Any new mom can tell you that after having a baby, your emotions go a little haywire. Some women are left with only minimal ups and downs and are able to deal quite easily. Others are on the opposite end of the spectrum and find themselves spiraling out of control. The rest find themselves somewhere between the two. Imagine these emotions are a roller coaster. Some women ride a relatively calm coaster with a few twists and turns, but nothing too dramatic. The less fortunate find themselves thrown for a loop...literally. Upside downs, loop-d-loops, hills and steep drops. When you finally are able to step off the coaster, you may be sick to your stomach, or in the postpartum sense, in a state of recovery.
Now, imagine you've just stepped off one roller coaster, only to find yourself entering another one, this one more fierce and dramatic. The tension doubles, the nausea increases and nerves are shot.
This is precisely what I faced after my second baby was born. Raging hormones meets raging hormones. Add to that the newborn, one year old, a mother unable to help due to health reasons, and a husband who was recovering from his own health crisis. Life was CRAZY!
Now, I know that everyone's situation is different. For some women it may be a boyfriend who is non-committal, financial difficulties, feelings of inadequacy, or any number of things. But the bottom line is this: depression happens. It can happen to anyone. It shows itself in many ways. It lasts different lengths of times. And more people deal with it than you know.
My one major regret (that encompasses and affects all my other regrets) from this time in my life, is that I did not talk to a doctor about my depression. Day after day, while sitting on the floor with a screaming newborn, sobbing toddler and me out of sorts crying, I would think to myself "So this is depression; I wish I could talk to someone about this." And yet time would pass. I would get through one day only to face another, and time stretched out in front of me like an enormous desert that seems to choke you before you take the first step. It was a dark time.
If anything good can come out of that time, it would be that someone would listen when I tell my story. Someone would take the advice that I give, and that is to get help. To talk to someone, a doctor or counselor. If it means taking medicine, then do it. If it means allowing someone to help out at home, let them. If it means actually asking for help, do it. But don't shoulder everything alone. Don't carry the burden of depression on yourself. It will only stay with you longer and harm your precious children.
But this being a Mariposa blog, I am so thankful for change. Obviously if I am celebrating my DS2 turning 4, that means we are all still alive and well today, and have survived that tumultuous first year. He has grown into a sweet, caring, lovable little man that I am so proud to call my own. He fills my life with laughter and smiles, hugs and snuggles, and has come up with the funniest things to say. "You crack me up like a seat-belt!" He is quick to try whatever his big brother is doing, unless it involves pain, or possible pain, or one of the many foods that he does not like.
When I first found out I was pregnant with him, I have to say I was less than thrilled. I had barely figured out how to parent one child, then here comes number two. The first one hadn't been planned, but was welcomed with open arms and loving acceptance. Second baby, I'm afraid, was not so readily accepted.
But (and I know this sounds cliche) I can not imagine life without my DS2. My life would be so incomplete without the sound of his laughter, and the warmth of him snuggled against me as we read. I would miss the way his hair sticks up all over, no matter how long it is. I would miss his precious chocolate brown eyes and the way he crinkles them up when he smiles. I would miss his tender heart, how he will offer to hug me when I'm sad, or rub my back if I mention it being sore. He has filled my life with so many wonderful moments, I would gladly go through that awful first year again just to be with him now.
Life has a funny way of working out. Things we perceive as "curses" are sometimes blessings in disguise. A present from the Father who gives perfect gifts. A heavenly bundle wrapped in flesh, hand delivered to a parent who doesn't deserve it.
Every generous act of giving and every perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father who made the heavenly lights, in whom there is no inconsistency or shifting shadow. James 1:27
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Hope
Lamentations 3:22-23
22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
If ever a passage of scripture were to give hope, I feel this would be it. The prophet Jeremiah writes about despair, pain, suffering, sin and wrongdoing. The passage speaks of anguish and depression so deep, it had "walled me in so I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains."
It speaks of a heartache so real "He pierced my heart with arrows from his quiver."
He felt ashamed and mocked and cast away, "I became the laughingstock of all my people;they mock me in song all day long."
I feel there is a guilt, a sense of unforgiveness towards himself, "I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is."
As I was reading this passage, I felt myself identifying so closely with the feelings and thoughts Jeremiah had written. I have been through periods of depression that threatened to choke me out; at times it seemed I couldn't breathe because it hurt so bad. I have been wounded by friends and family, and felt my heart ripped out of my chest. I felt broken, pierced, bleeding inside.
I have been publicly ridiculed by those who called me friend to my face. It was like they slapped me in the face, spewing nastiness from the very mouths they had commended me with. And I myself have been unable to forgive my own wrongs and shortcomings. It has felt like an inescapable blemish upon my report card of life. That I was/am never good enough. Like I will never get ahead.
We all go through periods in life of hopelessness. Of depression. Of ridicule and wretchedness. We have all felt the sting of betrayal and humiliation at some point in life. We have all been through times of loss and bereavement. This is life. This is what being part of mankind brings. No one is exempt. No one can avoid pain.
And yet, in all the pain and hopelessness there is in our hearts, there is still one thing to find a measure of hope in. And that is this: "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."
No matter how dark, or how impossibly long the night may seem, we know that eventually morning will come. No matter how strong the wind is, or how high the waves of the hurricane may grow, pretty soon the storm will pass and all that is left is memories and a need to recompose.
Just as the rainbow that God placed in the sky after Noah's flood, he has given us a promise also. That his mercy is always new. That each trouble, each night we may face, in the morning, at the end of the tunnel there is a compassionate and understanding and loving God.
"You came near when I called you,
and you said, "Do not fear."
O Lord, you took up my case;
you redeemed my life."
22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
23 They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
If ever a passage of scripture were to give hope, I feel this would be it. The prophet Jeremiah writes about despair, pain, suffering, sin and wrongdoing. The passage speaks of anguish and depression so deep, it had "walled me in so I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains."
It speaks of a heartache so real "He pierced my heart with arrows from his quiver."
He felt ashamed and mocked and cast away, "I became the laughingstock of all my people;they mock me in song all day long."
I feel there is a guilt, a sense of unforgiveness towards himself, "I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is."
As I was reading this passage, I felt myself identifying so closely with the feelings and thoughts Jeremiah had written. I have been through periods of depression that threatened to choke me out; at times it seemed I couldn't breathe because it hurt so bad. I have been wounded by friends and family, and felt my heart ripped out of my chest. I felt broken, pierced, bleeding inside.
I have been publicly ridiculed by those who called me friend to my face. It was like they slapped me in the face, spewing nastiness from the very mouths they had commended me with. And I myself have been unable to forgive my own wrongs and shortcomings. It has felt like an inescapable blemish upon my report card of life. That I was/am never good enough. Like I will never get ahead.
We all go through periods in life of hopelessness. Of depression. Of ridicule and wretchedness. We have all felt the sting of betrayal and humiliation at some point in life. We have all been through times of loss and bereavement. This is life. This is what being part of mankind brings. No one is exempt. No one can avoid pain.
And yet, in all the pain and hopelessness there is in our hearts, there is still one thing to find a measure of hope in. And that is this: "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."
No matter how dark, or how impossibly long the night may seem, we know that eventually morning will come. No matter how strong the wind is, or how high the waves of the hurricane may grow, pretty soon the storm will pass and all that is left is memories and a need to recompose.
Just as the rainbow that God placed in the sky after Noah's flood, he has given us a promise also. That his mercy is always new. That each trouble, each night we may face, in the morning, at the end of the tunnel there is a compassionate and understanding and loving God.
"You came near when I called you,
and you said, "Do not fear."
O Lord, you took up my case;
you redeemed my life."
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Theft Problem IMPORTANT MESSAGE:
Since Mariposa Mom is about identifying and embracing changes, I thought I'd share this all-too-true tidbit with you:
You've heard about people who have been abducted and had their kidneys removed by black-market organ thieves.
My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. I went to sleep and woke up with someone else's thighs. It was just that quick. The replacements had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine?
I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans. And then the thieves struck again.
My butt was next. I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear-end to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. But my new butt was attached at least three inches lower than my original! I realized I'd have to give up my jeans in favor of long skirts.
Two years ago I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I was fixing my hair and was horrified to see the flesh of my upper arm swing to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary - my body was being replaced one section at a time. What could they do to me next?
When my poor neck suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a turkey neck, I decided to tell my story. Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee! Those 'plastic' surgeons are using REAL replacement body parts -stolen from you and me! The next time someone you know has something 'lifted', look again - was it lifted from you?
You've heard about people who have been abducted and had their kidneys removed by black-market organ thieves.
My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. I went to sleep and woke up with someone else's thighs. It was just that quick. The replacements had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine?
I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans. And then the thieves struck again.
My butt was next. I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear-end to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. But my new butt was attached at least three inches lower than my original! I realized I'd have to give up my jeans in favor of long skirts.
Two years ago I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I was fixing my hair and was horrified to see the flesh of my upper arm swing to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary - my body was being replaced one section at a time. What could they do to me next?
When my poor neck suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a turkey neck, I decided to tell my story. Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee! Those 'plastic' surgeons are using REAL replacement body parts -stolen from you and me! The next time someone you know has something 'lifted', look again - was it lifted from you?
Therapy for Insanity
I thought we needed some lightening up today. I have read this before, but laughed again reading them tonight. Enjoy.
1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hairdryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.
2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.
3. Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.
5. Put Decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.
6. In the memo field of all your checks, write "For Marijuana".
7. Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy."
9. Skip down the hall rather than walk and see how many looks you get.
10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.
11. Specify that your drive-through order is 'To Go'.
12. Sing along at the Opera.
14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area and Play tropical Sounds All Day.
15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You have a headache.
17. When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream 'I Won! I Won!'
18. When Leaving the Zoo, Start Running towards the Parking lot, Yelling 'Run For Your Lives! They're Loose!'
19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner, 'Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go.'
Hahaha! So, are you the type of person who would do any of these? HAVE you done any of them, or something similar? I would SO do some of them if I had a partner in crime. Which is your favorite?
1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and point a hairdryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.
2. Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.
3. Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.
5. Put Decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Once everyone has gotten over their caffeine addictions, switch to espresso.
6. In the memo field of all your checks, write "For Marijuana".
7. Finish all your sentences with "In accordance with the prophecy."
9. Skip down the hall rather than walk and see how many looks you get.
10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.
11. Specify that your drive-through order is 'To Go'.
12. Sing along at the Opera.
14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area and Play tropical Sounds All Day.
15. Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You have a headache.
17. When The Money Comes Out The ATM, Scream 'I Won! I Won!'
18. When Leaving the Zoo, Start Running towards the Parking lot, Yelling 'Run For Your Lives! They're Loose!'
19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner, 'Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go.'
Hahaha! So, are you the type of person who would do any of these? HAVE you done any of them, or something similar? I would SO do some of them if I had a partner in crime. Which is your favorite?
Monday, July 12, 2010
Challenge and Passion
Life without challenge and passion is far more destructive than physical danger.
I was reading this article tonight in Reader's Digest about this lady fisherman. And when I came to this quote (above), I paused to consider the full meaning of it.
My first reaction was to ignore it and pretend I hadn't seen it. My second was to focus on the first part and not the last. Let me tell you why.
For some reason unknown to me, I am terrified of pain. I suppose that's a pretty normal thing to be afraid of, but it affects me in numerous ways. I am afraid of falling...like simple tripping on the sidewalk kind of falling. Afraid of heights also stems from it. Even climbing a ladder or mid-size stool will have me rattled. I get really freaked out when we have a close encounter while driving. And I even "protect" myself from emotional pain by distancing myself and moving on pretty easily. For instance, when a good friend moves away, generally I'm more likely to just get on with life than make a great effort to write and call. I know it sounds rude and mean and callus, but it's kind of a defense mechanism my mind has invented over time for different reasons.
So, all that to say...I don't like physical danger. I play it safe. And that is why this quote stuck out to me and I couldn't shake it. Something could be worse than being destroyed by physical danger? Yeah right!
But then I take a look at myself. Do I have those first two things in my life right now? Challenge. Passion. Am I really stretching myself and doing something I absolutely cannot live without? Am I living out my dreams? Am I living life to it's fullest?
My first thought is: of course. I have a husband. I have three beautiful children. I live in a decent house with room outside for the kids to play. I have family nearby. I live a very safe life.
Where is the challenge? Well, sure I am raising my boys to be (hopefully) strong, christian men, full of integrity and strong in their morals and convictions. Sure I am struggling to keep the household running and functioning with minimal infractions and uproar. But beyond the average, everyday things that every other parent deals with, what am I striving for?
I really don't have any answers, and to be honest, I'm slightly uncomfortable with the thought that I may have to stretch beyond my safe zone. Maybe someone else out there is struggling with something similar. Maybe it's you. Are you living life to it's fullest? Are you being challenged, or fulfilling your passions? If you are I commend you. That is a brave thing to do. But if you find yourself questioning the same as me, all I can say is, I understand.
Let me leave you with something else the author of the RD article said:
"When you are fully engaged, life is richer. To be consumed by doing what you love is the ultimate reward. Yes, it's risky. But it's worth it. Simply put, life is better out on a limb."
I was reading this article tonight in Reader's Digest about this lady fisherman. And when I came to this quote (above), I paused to consider the full meaning of it.
My first reaction was to ignore it and pretend I hadn't seen it. My second was to focus on the first part and not the last. Let me tell you why.
For some reason unknown to me, I am terrified of pain. I suppose that's a pretty normal thing to be afraid of, but it affects me in numerous ways. I am afraid of falling...like simple tripping on the sidewalk kind of falling. Afraid of heights also stems from it. Even climbing a ladder or mid-size stool will have me rattled. I get really freaked out when we have a close encounter while driving. And I even "protect" myself from emotional pain by distancing myself and moving on pretty easily. For instance, when a good friend moves away, generally I'm more likely to just get on with life than make a great effort to write and call. I know it sounds rude and mean and callus, but it's kind of a defense mechanism my mind has invented over time for different reasons.
So, all that to say...I don't like physical danger. I play it safe. And that is why this quote stuck out to me and I couldn't shake it. Something could be worse than being destroyed by physical danger? Yeah right!
But then I take a look at myself. Do I have those first two things in my life right now? Challenge. Passion. Am I really stretching myself and doing something I absolutely cannot live without? Am I living out my dreams? Am I living life to it's fullest?
My first thought is: of course. I have a husband. I have three beautiful children. I live in a decent house with room outside for the kids to play. I have family nearby. I live a very safe life.
Where is the challenge? Well, sure I am raising my boys to be (hopefully) strong, christian men, full of integrity and strong in their morals and convictions. Sure I am struggling to keep the household running and functioning with minimal infractions and uproar. But beyond the average, everyday things that every other parent deals with, what am I striving for?
I really don't have any answers, and to be honest, I'm slightly uncomfortable with the thought that I may have to stretch beyond my safe zone. Maybe someone else out there is struggling with something similar. Maybe it's you. Are you living life to it's fullest? Are you being challenged, or fulfilling your passions? If you are I commend you. That is a brave thing to do. But if you find yourself questioning the same as me, all I can say is, I understand.
Let me leave you with something else the author of the RD article said:
"When you are fully engaged, life is richer. To be consumed by doing what you love is the ultimate reward. Yes, it's risky. But it's worth it. Simply put, life is better out on a limb."
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Motherhood
In less than two weeks, my oldest son will celebrate his fifth birthday. I find myself looking back and trying to find where the time has gone. I can remember going to the hospital with intensely painful contractions, so bad I could hardly breathe, and being told I wasn't even dilated to 1 centimeter yet. I knew that this was more than false labor and that I needed to be there at the hospital. To make a super long story short, they discovered my baby was in distress, my water had not broke, and the fluid was murky green which means there was meconium present. The doctor rushed the baby out and he was whisked away from me to be suctioned, and put on oxygen. I kept waiting for that wonderful, sweet newborn baby cry, but didn't hear it. After what seemed like hours, I finally heard a small cry and after a bit more cleaning I was finally allowed to hold my son.
As a new mom, I remember wondering if I was doing things right...was he getting enough milk? Was I changing his diaper enough times? I remember the dr. visiting our little apartment and weighing my one week old baby. I asked if he was gaining enough weight and she told me he had gained almost a whole lb since being released from the hospital! She told me I must be doing it right for him to be thriving so well.
So many memories come back to me that it's hard to focus on any one in particular. His first words. His first shoes. How he played with his little baby brother. The first night he was away from me. His first day of pre-school.
We always notice how much our children change. They grow from a helpless mewling infant to a toddler who has teeth and longer hair. Then the preschool age with it's temper tantrums and independent spirit. But we often fail to notice and embrace the changes happening within ourselves.
Before I had kids, I loved people. I loved to be in church, getting together with friends, staying up late talking on the phone, going out to movies, shopping at the mall. And while these are things I still love to do, I do not feel complete in them. These are not the things that make me who I am any more. I am more than a girl. I am more than a shopper. I am more than a student. More than a daughter.
I am now the main caretaker of my 3 children. I am the one person who could go to a picnic and fill a plate for each of them and have them eat every single thing on it. I know what kind of clothes they like. I know their favorites: color, food, animal, person. And when they are upset or in pain, you can bet I'm the one they want. What an awesome privilege.
Being a mother has taught me to look beyond myself. To not be so selfish. I now am expected to share my food, my bed, my time and even my potty breaks. :) Motherhood has taught me how to truly care for another human being. I have learned that I don't know everything but my children will always ask me questions as if I do. I have learned that there are some things in life you just can't control, like the toddler who decides he has to poop 5 seconds before you're due at the doctor's office. I have learned that my well of adrenaline and "get-it-doneness" will never be completely empty. There is always a reserve for those middle of the night Emergency Room visits that lead into a day full of activities.
Can one ever know all the benefits of being a mother? Can one fully describe the depth of feeling and emotion and adoration? It is something you hold in your heart and hardly dare to breathe because it is so overwhelming and spectacular.
My life has been forever altered by my sweet children. Each day they become more a part of me. At times I find myself thinking I have always been a mom. I can hardly remember who I was before they came into my life. And I find myself thinking I like it that way.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
My Son
I wrote this poem after a friend of mine got married. It is referencing to her husband's mother. I was inspired, as you'll see, by what transpired at the wedding reception.
MY SON
I watched you dance with your son,
My eyes welled up with tears.
I felt like sobbing watching you there-
Letting go, saying goodbye.
One hand held his face
Reminiscent of times spent
Wiping away tears, kissing owies,
Dispelling fears.
Your other hand held him close
Whispering of snuggles,
Hugs full of warmth,
When only your arms could satisfy.
Your face rested on him
Remembering times he’d fall asleep on your shoulder.
You’d lay your head against his
And pray it wouldn’t end.
Tears washed unashamedly down your cheeks,
Spilling over with love of many years.
This one, this precious child;
Your pride and joy.
How many times you’ve wept with him.
Middle of the night feedings;
You didn’t know what was wrong.
Falls on the way to walking.
You had cried together when hurt.
Friends let you down.
Together you’ve weathered all life has,
This one you danced with.
I could feel your heart ache
As the minutes dragged on.
You’re losing your little boy,
This one you gave life to.
He’s been your sweetheart, your love,
Your little snuggle bug.
‘I don’t want to give him up.
I don’t want to let go.’
I’ve heard it said-
“A daughter is yours for life;
A son until he takes a wife.”
Is that what you were feeling?
‘I know he’s not leaving;
I can still see him.
But his joy will come from his new love,
His precious one.
When he falls down, she’ll be there.
When he cries it will be on her shoulder.
His house, his heart are now hers.
Oh, my little boy!’
You danced this dance with your son.
I cried, cried until I thought my heart would break.
I cried over my sons,
My precious little gems
Whose love I revel in each day.
I am their light, I soothe them.
Their tears are mine, I cry with them.
Their joys are mine, I laugh with them.
Their frustrations, I feel them too.
Every hour of every day, I’m there.
You helped me to see
How precious this time is, to be-
Love my sons, every minute;
How soon they pass.
What will I feel when they are no longer mine to hold,
To comfort, to soothe,
To wipe their little noses, see every little joy?
Thank you for showing your feelings,
For letting your son know,
Although I don’t know if he understands.
But he will.
Thank you for showing you love.
I needed that. To know the hope
That they do grow up, into wonderful young men.
They can succeed. Despite my faults.
Thank you for being vulnerable
As all mothers are.
Just as you held him as a child,
He held you one last time;
Feeling your sorrow,
Holding you close,
Wiping your tears,
Comforting you.
He’s your sweet one,
Your joy,
Your pride.
He’s your son.
January26,2007
Thursday, April 29, 2010
G.I.G.O.
"The school will teach children how to read, but the environment of the home must teach them what to read. The school can teach them how to think, but the home must teach them what to believe."
When I was a kid I had a cassette tape with a song called G.I.G.O. This was right about the time when computers where becoming available to the public, so it was an important song. It stands for Garbage In, Garbage Out. Putting garbage into our minds/computers produces nasty, dirty, junk thoughts/processes. But the rest of the song says "Clean thoughts in, clean thoughts out...will keep you safe from G.I.G.O"
When my husband and I were in Master's Commission, one of the rules they had was no movies rated above PG. It sounds pretty harsh, but in reality it was a great thing. How can you be in a super-devoted-to-God state of mind while putting garbage into your mind? How can you learn how to serve and be kind to others while watching films with language, innuendos, immoral scenes, etc?
Since then, DH and I have held to this standard, for the most part. Even then, there are lower rated movies that have come into our home and disturbed us and our kids. One of these is the new Scooby-Doo videos. Kids love that show, right?! So did we, until our kids started waking up with nightmares, not wanting to go in a room because they thought one of the monsters from the show would be there. You know it's pretty disturbing to a kid when they come up and say "We need to get rid of all the Scooby-Doo's 'cause it makes my mind scared and I have bad dreams."
So, live action, drama, animated, anything. If it's not beneficial, why watch it and allow it to influence your thoughts? You don't believe me, that these things affect your kids? Try something. Follow a super strict movie guideline, and explain why. That we don't want to allow bad thoughts or ideas into our minds, that God wants our minds to be pure and clean and devoted to happy peaceful thoughts. Do this for at least a couple months. Then show a "bad" movie. One with intense music, monsters, you know the type. And observe your kids. Watch their eyes grow wide, their grip on your hand tighten. Or maybe they pull away and become so engrossed in it that they forget all about their favorite food they were eating. Seriously, it will affect them. And then watch for attitudes, nightmares, acting out, etc.
Now, I'm not perfect by any means. But it angers me that we'll be visiting family or friends and a movie that is not appropriate for little children is being watched, or absently left on the t.v., and when I ask for something else to be put in I get appalled looks, and comments like "Oh really. He gets nightmares from this?!" Of course movies with intense action sequences, people discovering dead bodies, people yelling and shouting and shooting at each other, etc. will bother them! And it should bother us adults too.
There's a stirring in our stomach when we see a grotesque scene on t.v. Maybe your face twitches with disgust, but you just can't pull yourself from it. Or your heart rate picks up and you find yourself unable to switch the channel. When you feel that, remember G.I.G.O. Garbage in, Garbage out. Clean thoughts in, Clean thoughts out.
And, I'm sorry, but I can't resist the urge to throw this in. I know that not everyone agrees with me, and that's fine. But for our family from the episodes I have seen and the attitudes I have observed, we do not allow Spongebob in our household. And there's enough other people out there like that, I don't think it should come as a big surprise to anyone when I say that. Not like I go throwing that out there wherever I go. On the contrary, I try to be quiet with my own opinions, unless it directly affects my kids. Like when I tell the attendants at Playland to not put in Spongebob while my kids are in there. So my boys know how I feel about it, and I have explained why and they understand.
One day DS1 and I were getting a video from Redbox. A little girl and her dad were right behind us and the girl was looking at the pictures of the movies and commented that she wanted to get the Spongebob movie. DS1 pipes up, embarrassing his mother, "We don't like Spongebob. It makes bad thoughts and dreams in our minds."
The man retorts, "Oh, it's not a bad show. We like it. It's funny and pretty good." Grrrr. Look guy, I know you may like it, but it wasn't Me who said something, it was my kid. If my kid says we don't watch it because it makes bad thoughts and dreams, don't try to tell him it's OK. Seriously. I'm not telling you to put your fat little girl on a diet, you don't try to influence my kid. Thank-you.
But really, all opinions and personal preferences aside, think about this in the big picture. Please re-evaluate what our kids are watching, and so internalizing. Really think about it. Pray about it. Ask them about it, how they feel when they watch it. And if they are having bad dreams, consider if this could be contributing to them.
It is something I am passionate about. I wish I could let my kids visit someone and not worry about them being allowed to watch inappropriate movies. And not just movies, but adult language, music, pictures. We need to protect our kids because no one else is going to. Speak up for them. Protect them. Lets introduce a new measure of innocence into our lives.
Thanks for listening and not judging me too harshly for my outspoken opinion.
When I was a kid I had a cassette tape with a song called G.I.G.O. This was right about the time when computers where becoming available to the public, so it was an important song. It stands for Garbage In, Garbage Out. Putting garbage into our minds/computers produces nasty, dirty, junk thoughts/processes. But the rest of the song says "Clean thoughts in, clean thoughts out...will keep you safe from G.I.G.O"
When my husband and I were in Master's Commission, one of the rules they had was no movies rated above PG. It sounds pretty harsh, but in reality it was a great thing. How can you be in a super-devoted-to-God state of mind while putting garbage into your mind? How can you learn how to serve and be kind to others while watching films with language, innuendos, immoral scenes, etc?
Since then, DH and I have held to this standard, for the most part. Even then, there are lower rated movies that have come into our home and disturbed us and our kids. One of these is the new Scooby-Doo videos. Kids love that show, right?! So did we, until our kids started waking up with nightmares, not wanting to go in a room because they thought one of the monsters from the show would be there. You know it's pretty disturbing to a kid when they come up and say "We need to get rid of all the Scooby-Doo's 'cause it makes my mind scared and I have bad dreams."
So, live action, drama, animated, anything. If it's not beneficial, why watch it and allow it to influence your thoughts? You don't believe me, that these things affect your kids? Try something. Follow a super strict movie guideline, and explain why. That we don't want to allow bad thoughts or ideas into our minds, that God wants our minds to be pure and clean and devoted to happy peaceful thoughts. Do this for at least a couple months. Then show a "bad" movie. One with intense music, monsters, you know the type. And observe your kids. Watch their eyes grow wide, their grip on your hand tighten. Or maybe they pull away and become so engrossed in it that they forget all about their favorite food they were eating. Seriously, it will affect them. And then watch for attitudes, nightmares, acting out, etc.
Now, I'm not perfect by any means. But it angers me that we'll be visiting family or friends and a movie that is not appropriate for little children is being watched, or absently left on the t.v., and when I ask for something else to be put in I get appalled looks, and comments like "Oh really. He gets nightmares from this?!" Of course movies with intense action sequences, people discovering dead bodies, people yelling and shouting and shooting at each other, etc. will bother them! And it should bother us adults too.
There's a stirring in our stomach when we see a grotesque scene on t.v. Maybe your face twitches with disgust, but you just can't pull yourself from it. Or your heart rate picks up and you find yourself unable to switch the channel. When you feel that, remember G.I.G.O. Garbage in, Garbage out. Clean thoughts in, Clean thoughts out.
And, I'm sorry, but I can't resist the urge to throw this in. I know that not everyone agrees with me, and that's fine. But for our family from the episodes I have seen and the attitudes I have observed, we do not allow Spongebob in our household. And there's enough other people out there like that, I don't think it should come as a big surprise to anyone when I say that. Not like I go throwing that out there wherever I go. On the contrary, I try to be quiet with my own opinions, unless it directly affects my kids. Like when I tell the attendants at Playland to not put in Spongebob while my kids are in there. So my boys know how I feel about it, and I have explained why and they understand.
One day DS1 and I were getting a video from Redbox. A little girl and her dad were right behind us and the girl was looking at the pictures of the movies and commented that she wanted to get the Spongebob movie. DS1 pipes up, embarrassing his mother, "We don't like Spongebob. It makes bad thoughts and dreams in our minds."
The man retorts, "Oh, it's not a bad show. We like it. It's funny and pretty good." Grrrr. Look guy, I know you may like it, but it wasn't Me who said something, it was my kid. If my kid says we don't watch it because it makes bad thoughts and dreams, don't try to tell him it's OK. Seriously. I'm not telling you to put your fat little girl on a diet, you don't try to influence my kid. Thank-you.
But really, all opinions and personal preferences aside, think about this in the big picture. Please re-evaluate what our kids are watching, and so internalizing. Really think about it. Pray about it. Ask them about it, how they feel when they watch it. And if they are having bad dreams, consider if this could be contributing to them.
It is something I am passionate about. I wish I could let my kids visit someone and not worry about them being allowed to watch inappropriate movies. And not just movies, but adult language, music, pictures. We need to protect our kids because no one else is going to. Speak up for them. Protect them. Lets introduce a new measure of innocence into our lives.
Thanks for listening and not judging me too harshly for my outspoken opinion.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Prodigal Child?
"Never despair of a child. The one you weep the most for at the mercy seat may fill your heart with the sweetest joys."
Something happened today that made this quote pop out at me. Now, I am not at a point in my life where I am despairing of a child, or weeping over him. But I do worry some times when one of my boys has trouble achieving or welcoming a new situation.
Today was the first day of swimming lessons for the boys. DS1 was super excited, wanting to go to the store to buy goggles and just dive in and go for it. DS2 on the other hand wanted nothing to do with it and cried as I was changing him into his swimming trunks. He calmed down enough to walk to the pool area, but the whole time kept telling me "I don't want to swim. I don't want to."
But he let me put on the floaty belt, and lead him to the steps. From there the instructor took charge and kept a hand on him. She was wonderful with him and let him ride piggyback the entire time, while encouraging him to kick and participate at the same time.
He even sat on the edge and "jumped" in. I was amazed.
Now, I was super proud of DS1 for doing a wonderful job, and it was fun watching him play in the water. But I had such a proud heart and such joy from watching DS2 do something he originally didn't want to do. I am so proud of him for trying it (even though I had to bribe him to get the belt on!), and even more proud of him that he didn't cry or throw a fit once he was in the water. What an amazing feeling!
I can only imagine how a parent of a wayward child must feel. To see their child wandering away from truth and love and peace to a life of pain and anger and distrust. But what incredible joy they have when that wayward child returns to the right path. When they learn how to love and accept forgiveness. I'm sure the parents hearts fill with unspeakable pride to the point of bursting.
And how much joy God must feel when one of his children returns. Really made me picture the prodigal son story.
I have to admit, I've always related more with the "other brother". You know, the one who didn't run away and waste his inheritance. The good one. The one who followed the rules and was there for his father. Yeah, that would be me. But now as a parent I understand the father more. How could you possibly reject a child you had almost lost hope for? How could you not be glad that your son had returned, a bit wiser and understanding?
"How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure"
Something happened today that made this quote pop out at me. Now, I am not at a point in my life where I am despairing of a child, or weeping over him. But I do worry some times when one of my boys has trouble achieving or welcoming a new situation.
Today was the first day of swimming lessons for the boys. DS1 was super excited, wanting to go to the store to buy goggles and just dive in and go for it. DS2 on the other hand wanted nothing to do with it and cried as I was changing him into his swimming trunks. He calmed down enough to walk to the pool area, but the whole time kept telling me "I don't want to swim. I don't want to."
But he let me put on the floaty belt, and lead him to the steps. From there the instructor took charge and kept a hand on him. She was wonderful with him and let him ride piggyback the entire time, while encouraging him to kick and participate at the same time.
He even sat on the edge and "jumped" in. I was amazed.
Now, I was super proud of DS1 for doing a wonderful job, and it was fun watching him play in the water. But I had such a proud heart and such joy from watching DS2 do something he originally didn't want to do. I am so proud of him for trying it (even though I had to bribe him to get the belt on!), and even more proud of him that he didn't cry or throw a fit once he was in the water. What an amazing feeling!
I can only imagine how a parent of a wayward child must feel. To see their child wandering away from truth and love and peace to a life of pain and anger and distrust. But what incredible joy they have when that wayward child returns to the right path. When they learn how to love and accept forgiveness. I'm sure the parents hearts fill with unspeakable pride to the point of bursting.
And how much joy God must feel when one of his children returns. Really made me picture the prodigal son story.
I have to admit, I've always related more with the "other brother". You know, the one who didn't run away and waste his inheritance. The good one. The one who followed the rules and was there for his father. Yeah, that would be me. But now as a parent I understand the father more. How could you possibly reject a child you had almost lost hope for? How could you not be glad that your son had returned, a bit wiser and understanding?
"How deep the Father's love for us,
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure"
Friday, April 23, 2010
A Mother's Work
"A man's work is from sun to sun, but a mother's work is never done."
Oh, how I've been feeling this lately! Even though we've been living in our current home for about a year now, I still feel like there are many things not in their proper place. You know, the table cloths that got stashed in our bedroom when we moved in are now needing a final resting place elsewhere. And my candle stash that used to be in a hat box has outgrown it's space and needed a bigger one. So lately I feel like I've been doing a lot of rearranging and not much cleaning. As a result, my house never feels clean enough.
I love my husband dearly, but sometimes I wonder. As a woman/mother/wife have I "sheltered" him by taking care of things too efficiently in our first few years of marriage? There are times I would like help preparing dinner but it's difficult for him to do so when he has no idea where things are in the kitchen or how to make something other than quesadillas.
He tries, he really does. And he often offers to help, but I end up doing it alone because it's easier.
Sometimes in the morning I'll wake up to the baby fussing over the monitor, and instead of feeling refreshed I feel like I haven't slept in days. And I wonder why! Then I remember that during the night the baby cried for her pacifier, one son had a bad dream and woke up screaming, and the other son informed me that he had to pee and, oh yeah, had wet the bed. It is those mornings I wish I could push a pause button on the rest of my life and fall back in bed for a few hours of sleep.
What is it that pushes me to get up even when I'm exhausted? My husband seems to have no trouble sleeping through the crying baby, or the constant clamoring of roughhousing boys. Why do I, as a mother, find myself jerked awake by the slightest cry of one of my children? And how can my husband sleep peacefully and deeply even when I turn up the baby monitor full blast? Why is it that when I think I am at the end of my rope and need a break from my kids, I spend the couple hours I am given in reprieve wondering what the kids are doing and if they're being taken care of properly?
I love being a mom! I love the snuggles and kisses and baby "eating" my face. I love day trips and comforting a sad toddler. I love when one of my kids learns or does something new and their face lights up with pride in themselves. It's an amazing thing, to be a witness to every part of this little person's life. Being a mom truly is the most satisfying "job" in the world!
Oh, how I've been feeling this lately! Even though we've been living in our current home for about a year now, I still feel like there are many things not in their proper place. You know, the table cloths that got stashed in our bedroom when we moved in are now needing a final resting place elsewhere. And my candle stash that used to be in a hat box has outgrown it's space and needed a bigger one. So lately I feel like I've been doing a lot of rearranging and not much cleaning. As a result, my house never feels clean enough.
I love my husband dearly, but sometimes I wonder. As a woman/mother/wife have I "sheltered" him by taking care of things too efficiently in our first few years of marriage? There are times I would like help preparing dinner but it's difficult for him to do so when he has no idea where things are in the kitchen or how to make something other than quesadillas.
He tries, he really does. And he often offers to help, but I end up doing it alone because it's easier.
Sometimes in the morning I'll wake up to the baby fussing over the monitor, and instead of feeling refreshed I feel like I haven't slept in days. And I wonder why! Then I remember that during the night the baby cried for her pacifier, one son had a bad dream and woke up screaming, and the other son informed me that he had to pee and, oh yeah, had wet the bed. It is those mornings I wish I could push a pause button on the rest of my life and fall back in bed for a few hours of sleep.
What is it that pushes me to get up even when I'm exhausted? My husband seems to have no trouble sleeping through the crying baby, or the constant clamoring of roughhousing boys. Why do I, as a mother, find myself jerked awake by the slightest cry of one of my children? And how can my husband sleep peacefully and deeply even when I turn up the baby monitor full blast? Why is it that when I think I am at the end of my rope and need a break from my kids, I spend the couple hours I am given in reprieve wondering what the kids are doing and if they're being taken care of properly?
I love being a mom! I love the snuggles and kisses and baby "eating" my face. I love day trips and comforting a sad toddler. I love when one of my kids learns or does something new and their face lights up with pride in themselves. It's an amazing thing, to be a witness to every part of this little person's life. Being a mom truly is the most satisfying "job" in the world!
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Journal Excerpt 1
"If a child lives with approval, he learns to live with himself."
I want my children to be so used to hearing how smart, wonderful, special, handsome/beautiful they are that when they look in the mirror that's what they see. I don't want them to grow up criticizing their looks or abilities or overall value. I want them to be comfortable with who they are, and to realize how absolutely special they truly are.
Goal for today:
Today, make a point to hug your child at least 5 times and tell them something specific you love about them. Something about their personality, looks, an action they did, etc. I guarantee if you make a point to do this each day your kids will blossom. And don't let the number 5 hinder you...never let an opportunity pass to let your children feel valued.
I want my children to be so used to hearing how smart, wonderful, special, handsome/beautiful they are that when they look in the mirror that's what they see. I don't want them to grow up criticizing their looks or abilities or overall value. I want them to be comfortable with who they are, and to realize how absolutely special they truly are.
Goal for today:
Today, make a point to hug your child at least 5 times and tell them something specific you love about them. Something about their personality, looks, an action they did, etc. I guarantee if you make a point to do this each day your kids will blossom. And don't let the number 5 hinder you...never let an opportunity pass to let your children feel valued.
Why Mariposa?
Mariposa=Butterfly
My sons were born at an extremely rough time in my life. Maybe someday I will find the time to write about it. But because of the events surrounding, I was unable to give them the things I dreamed about, to create a spectacular and beautiful nursery filled with anything they could possibly want or need.
When I discovered I was having a girl this last pregnancy, I really wanted to do more for her than I had been able to do for my boys. My husband and I painted her room a soft purple, with accents of dusty rose. We put up a wallpaper border of cheerful, smiling butterflies...whimsical and soft. The purple butterfly curtain made by my husband's grandmother is supported by a rod w/ butterfly ends. Her bedding is butterflies as are many of her clothes. I'm drawn to this flying insect in a way I cannot describe.
Of course butterflies are pretty. I love the bright colors, the softness and gentleness they portray. The way they flit softly from place to place. Children are enraptured with them. When my boys play outside in the summer and see one float past, there are squeals of joy and laughter, "Look Mom, look! A butterfly!" Artists depict them as happy, cheerful, peaceful. Their colors are gay and bright, bold even. What's not to love about this creature?
I think this theme took hold of me because of the differences in my life now. 5 years ago I was expecting with my first child. It would be months before my first anniversary, and we had finally found an apartment to live in. What a relief to be out of our parents' houses. We had little money, little freedom to decorate, and not many close friends.
Fast forward to this last pregnancy. We live in a house we rent from my parents, my husband has a better job, we have accumulated furniture and possessions and have more confidence in ourselves and our abilities. Our lives are completely different.
I feel like I have gone through my own metamorphosis these last 4+ years as a mom. I am stronger. I like myself more. I am not always afraid to speak up for myself. I hardly recognize the person I see in pictures from that time.
I intend to write about things I have learned along the way through this metamorphosis. Share about the highs and lows, the struggles and triumphs. Laughter and tears. Quotes I have recorded along the way. Excerpts from journals I have recorded for my kids.
This is my journey.
My sons were born at an extremely rough time in my life. Maybe someday I will find the time to write about it. But because of the events surrounding, I was unable to give them the things I dreamed about, to create a spectacular and beautiful nursery filled with anything they could possibly want or need.
When I discovered I was having a girl this last pregnancy, I really wanted to do more for her than I had been able to do for my boys. My husband and I painted her room a soft purple, with accents of dusty rose. We put up a wallpaper border of cheerful, smiling butterflies...whimsical and soft. The purple butterfly curtain made by my husband's grandmother is supported by a rod w/ butterfly ends. Her bedding is butterflies as are many of her clothes. I'm drawn to this flying insect in a way I cannot describe.
Of course butterflies are pretty. I love the bright colors, the softness and gentleness they portray. The way they flit softly from place to place. Children are enraptured with them. When my boys play outside in the summer and see one float past, there are squeals of joy and laughter, "Look Mom, look! A butterfly!" Artists depict them as happy, cheerful, peaceful. Their colors are gay and bright, bold even. What's not to love about this creature?
I think this theme took hold of me because of the differences in my life now. 5 years ago I was expecting with my first child. It would be months before my first anniversary, and we had finally found an apartment to live in. What a relief to be out of our parents' houses. We had little money, little freedom to decorate, and not many close friends.
Fast forward to this last pregnancy. We live in a house we rent from my parents, my husband has a better job, we have accumulated furniture and possessions and have more confidence in ourselves and our abilities. Our lives are completely different.
I feel like I have gone through my own metamorphosis these last 4+ years as a mom. I am stronger. I like myself more. I am not always afraid to speak up for myself. I hardly recognize the person I see in pictures from that time.
I intend to write about things I have learned along the way through this metamorphosis. Share about the highs and lows, the struggles and triumphs. Laughter and tears. Quotes I have recorded along the way. Excerpts from journals I have recorded for my kids.
This is my journey.
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