For The Hardest Days

I've got probably 10 minutes to write this before my littlest starts screaming like a banshee.

He's been doing this since almost the second he woke up this morning and an hour ago he had me a complete blubbering mess of tears.  Not all of our mornings go like this.  But a lot do.

I'm writing this is because on the days when I feel lowest, it is often because I need to feel connected to other moms.  I need to know that I'm not the only momma out there whose baby hasn't stopped crying since the second they were picked up out of their crib.

I need to know that I'm not the only momma whose 5 year old fights them on everything from what she'll eat for breakfast to why she shouldn't have to wear a coat on a 40 degree morning out the door to school.

I need to know that I'm not the only mom who has tried 5 dang times to warm her coffee but still can't find a second to sit down and drink it.  And breathe.

So hear me now, if you are having one of these mornings-- you are not alone.

Take heart in knowing, that your next door neighbor momma is probably fighting the same breakfast battles.

Take heart in knowing that the momma in line behind you at the grocery store is probably giddy because it's the first break from kids she's had all week.

I would know because that was me yesterday.

Take heart in knowing that you are not the only momma who watches the clock from nap time until bed time just praying that she can make it through without having one of her own meltdowns.

Little banshee is crying again.  I'm going to go pick him up and hug him. And kiss the tears away. But first I'm going to drink my coffee. And I'm going to breathe.  And I'm going to remind myself that I am not alone.  You are not alone.  We're in this momma journey together

 

#letsgetrealmoms

We're on day 13 of the the #letsgetrealmoms movement and I must say that I am completely blown away by all the quantity of moms who have posted and also the quality of posts that they've come up with.  All in the name of being transparent and wanting to share the realness of mommahood with no judgement.  We're up to 225 posts! If you're new to my blog you can check out the reason for this little movement here.

My very best friend has had a rocky road to mommahood to say the least.  But this week I was so incredibly proud of the blog she wrote in regards to our #letsgetrealmoms movement. Head over to Rachelle's blog to read more about why we're encouraging mommas to get real and to see what she's learning about motherhood.

"You might have to drag that baby into the bathroom just to get a shower.  That's okay."

You're Worth It.

This morning I shaved my legs in the car on the way to church.  With Aveeno baby lotion and my daughter's bright pink bath towel.  I'm sure some of you moms are just cringing right now. Earlier this week I posted on my instagram account a picture of myself, hair thrown into a messy bun, captioned "pretty sure I haven't washed my hair in three days."

I confess to both of these things really only to make a point.  My point being that, often as moms, we place ourselves very last on the priority list and by doing so we take away our ability to really be a blessing to our husband and kids.

A few years back God brought an amazing friend into my life.  Pam was a true gift to me at a time when I really needed wisdom and perspective on what being a Godly wife and mother looked like.  I can remember back to some conversations that she and I had when I was knee deep in the middle of potty training a toddler and she was a brand new mom.  She spoke about how even on our hardest of hard days, serving our husbands and kids is an honor and a calling.  It is by far the hardest calling there will ever be but to sacrifice for them is a gift.

My perspective on being a wife and a mother has completely evolved from back when I was a new mom who was struggling to find my role and my purpose in it all.  The truth is, I absolutely love to serve my family. I find so much fulfillment in putting dinner on the table for my husband and in making our home a safe haven for our kids.  I love giving baths and reading bed time stories.  I love to rock my babies when they are sick and the feeling of knowing that I can provide a comfort that no one else can.  I love being my husband's safe place at the end of a long day at work. I love being a servant to them and I find it a true honor.

But here's the thing-- if there's one thing I've learned since becoming a mom, it is that my kids get the very best version of mom, when I am intentional about taking care of myself as well.  I think this is an aspect of motherhood that so many moms have missed the beat on.  I write all this because I find that it is just one more place that mommas need encouragement.

So hear me now--

You are worth it.  

You are worth letting your baby cry for 10 minutes while you take the shower you haven't had in 2 days. Your baby will not harbor feelings of neglect or bitterness towards you.  

You are worth asking your kids to wait so that you can make breakfast for yourself and actually fuel the energy you need to take care of them for the day.

You are worth putting on a nice outfit so that you aren't slumming in your sweats all day just to feel like "another housewife".  

You are worth it.  Your husband would agree.  And so would Jesus.  And someday, when your kids are grown, I promise, they will thank you.  Because prioritizing yourself doesn't make you a bad mom. Prioritizing yourself will teach your daughter how to value herself.  If anything, it will teach her to respect you because she'll see that you respect you.  Prioritizing yourself will teach your son how to someday value the girl he falls in love with.

Earlier this week I received a text from an old friend.  She told me she's been struggling with postpartum depression and that she's stuck at home with the kids all day with very little help.  I wish I could say this is the first text I've ever gotten like this, but it's not.  I talk to momma friends all the time who share the same struggle and I seem to keep coming back to a common theme.  The kids and the husband are being put first.

 And while I'll agree, they should come first--that doesn't mean that we as mommas have to come last. 

I would argue that if we start to value ourselves a little more, our husbands and kids will reap the blessings and the benefit of servanthood.  They will feel more loved, more cared for, more protected in the long run.

So tomorrow is Monday.  Wake up a little earlier.  Make yourself some breakfast. Take a shower.  Go for a run. Pray. Read a book.  Read the paper. Journal. Blog.  Paint your nails.  Shave your legs (just not with Aveeno baby lotion and a pink towel). Do what makes you feel most like you.  Prepare your heart for the week.  Because just like last week, it's going to be a long one. 

I promise, your kids and your husband will thank you because you'll be happier and in a better place to serve. And, I think you will thank yourself too.  

 

You're worth it momma.

 

Living The Staged Life

I've spent the last 5 days on my knees scrubbing baseboards, packing boxes of clutter and rearranging furniture like a mad woman.  Meanwhile my husband has been patching holes, touching up paint and steam cleaning carpets.  All this done in an effort to stage and prep our home to go on the market.  Last night after a long awaited meeting with our realtor, I finally sunk into bed and just lost it.  All of the stress of staging our home and the calls to and from our lender finally just broke me.  I cried one of those ridiculous messy cries where you feel like every tear is carrying the weight of what you've been holding within you.

Today I woke up feeling so much better and ready to move forward but it definitely got me thinking.  How often am I trying to "stage" my life so that it appears to be one way when it really isn't?  For as much as I feel like my heart is for openness and transparency I know that there's still an insecurity deep within me that holds me back from sharing openly with other mommas about how messy life can be at times.

Last night Mackenzie's first soccer practice was canceled due to forecasted bad weather but we didn't find this out until after having arrived at the field.  We decided we would unload the kids and kick the ball around as a family for a while.  I took dozens of pictures of the kids underneath that big ominous sky.  The clouds were thick and heavy but the blue peeking through made it a beautiful Colorado evening.  Somewhere far in the background you could even spot the Denver skyline.  I was planning to post the pictures and share a blog post capturing the innocence of my kids on that green field, interacting as siblings and sharing the exchanged smiles and giggles between the two.  

But that blog post would only share half the picture.  If I was really sharing the unstaged part of my life, I would share that Levi is at a really tough age.  He's unbelievably fussy most days unless he's being held and he's started to throw temper tantrums in an effort to communicate.  Last night on that field was no exception. I could choose to only post pictures of the smiles I captured from him on that field but the truth is, I dried more tears and put out more temper tantrum fires than I did actually capturing smiles.  

If I was really sharing the unstaged part of my life I would tell you that, had practice not been canceled, we would have been 15 minutes late because we couldn't seem to make it out the door on time.

I would share that Mackenzie ended up with two "time outs" while kicking the ball around because she's started repeating things she's been hearing from the boys at school.  

If you were to take a look at my instagram account, you would see mostly staged pictures.  The pictures I've captured of my kids playing happily together on the beach, pictures of my husband and I hiking our first 14er together.  There are ones of Mack and Levi playing in their giant pirate ship pool in the backyard and pictures of Mack sitting all smiles behind her 5th birthday cake.

What you don't see are the pictures of Levi eating hand fulls of sand and then crying hysterically as I try and dig it out of his mouth.  What's not posted of our mountain climbing experience are the pictures showcasing our frustration over not being able to make it to the top.  You don't see pictures of how angry I was after finding out that our dog chewed a hole into a part of the pirate ship pool.  And you don't see the pictures of Mack's 5th birthday cake face down on the floor after it fell out of the fridge.

I'm tired of staging my life.  I'm tired of fakeness between other mommas and of hiding the reality.  The reality which is that being a mom is tough.  Being a wife is tough.  Most of the time money is tight and most of the time I hate my dog.  There. I said it.  Sorry, Miya.

So in an effort to encourage openness, honesty and transparency among mommas, I'm starting a movement. I'm not sure if I can really call a hashtag movement a movement, but I'll give it a try.

Every day for the next 30 days I'm going to openly share a picture of a messy, unstaged part of my day.  I'm even going to unlock my account so other mommas can see it using the hashtag #letsgetrealmoms.  Maybe it will be a picture of how messy my home looks after a long day with the kids.   Maybe it will be a picture of one of my son's many epic tantrums.  Maybe I'll post something that to others might be hilariously funny but makes me want to curl up in a ball in a corner.

Mostly I'll just post pictures that are real and relateable.  Who wants to join me?  Use the hashtag #letsgetrealmoms, tag some friends to encourage them to do the same. Lets show other mommas that it's okay to live an unstaged life! Here we go!

#letsgetrealmoms

Pursuing Abundant Life

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs.  Ask yourself what makes you come alive.  And then go do that.  Because what the world needs are people who have come alive." 

- Harold Whitman

Last night my husband and I hosted a big bonfire with a group of close friends to celebrate the end of a long journey and the beginning of a new one that our family has just embarked on. We roasted hot dogs and smore's, drank wine and talked until well close to midnight outside by the fire.  When the last couple had finally loaded their kids into the car and we sunk into bed, we agreed that the night brought such an overflow of love, support and ultimately-- life.  To be surrounded by friends who have seen and supported us along this journey and to celebrate with them was incredibly life giving.

I recently read somewhere that the phrase life giving is being over used.  While it might be so, this same phrase has become an ever present theme for me over the past year.  I believe it all started when my husband began to challenge me to stop agreeing to to things we both knew would be done out of the guilt of saying "no."

A friend would ask me to go an event and I would say "yes" just to be a people pleaser, all the while knowing it just wasn't right for my day or my week.

Some nights I would feel the pressure to cook a huge dinner in the midst of crabby children and mounds of dishes. Yet another lesson in learning to shed the "super mom" ideal.  I would scratch the big dinner idea, feed the kids left overs and order takeout after they went to bed.  Guilt free.  Because ultimately this was much more life giving for me and for my kids.

Lets be honest- kids would rather have a smorgasbord of dinner on their plates and a happy mom rather than a plate full of gourmet foods and a mom who wants to pull her own hair out.

Ditching these smaller life sucking acts led me to remove some even bigger, that I knew weren't bringing life. This led to a long overdue delete of facebook. For me, a typical day in the life of facebook went one of two ways-- methodically check my feed every 20 minutes.  Sigh, when no one has updated their status since the last time I checked.  Because really, what are people doing with their time?  Ha.

Or, send me into a complete anxiety attack when I've read yet another post about a child diagnosed with cancer or an infant who has passed away from SIDS.  Before I come off as completely cold and heartless-- let me say that I do care about those types of issues.  But I believe there is difference between constantly immersing yourself in the tragedies of this world and then going to the other extreme-- living a life of complete naivety. There has got to be a balance.  Reading posts and articles about rampant sex offenders and catastrophic tsunamis weren't just keeping me informed-- they were becoming Satan's tool for bringing me to a place of constant fear and anxiety.  In an effort to do something life giving, I decided it was time to take the power back.  And I did. And it was so worth it.

Jeremy and I feel that God has really been leading us to a place of shedding safety nets in order to really trust Him for his provision and direction and to really truly pursue abundant life. We've made some pretty bold decisions in order to give life back to our ourselves.  Jeremy quit his job in order to continue his dream of becoming a full time marriage and family therapist. We got a dog. I'm going to go ahead and just put it out there that the dog has been much more life giving for my kids that it has been for me. Sorry, Miya. We've got some pretty big things on the horizon that I can't wait to share will you all in the next coming months.

But beyond the big things we have done or look forward to in the coming months, so much of our past year has consisted of small things that have brought so much life.  Hiking with our kids. Experiencing a mountain sunset.  Capturing my daughter on camera as she stands in awe of the rainbow after a mid summer thunderstorm. So much life can be found in these moments when we are intentional about finding what makes us most passionate.

For me, moving forward in this continued pursuit of what is most "life giving" means taking on some dreams and passions that God has been shaping in my heart for the past several years.  I'm returning to my work with the elderly after a nearly year long maternity break.  I'm so excited to be part of the new campus launch of our church--Red Rocks and I'm praying about how I can be used to minister to other mommas in our church. I'm also so excited to keep pursuing my involvement with Love146-- which is our Denver based task force, working to end sex trafficking here in our own backyards.  I'm pumped to begin training for my next marathon along the Big Sur Coast of Calfornia.  And certainly not least, but something I'm so ready for is to get back into the blogging world.  Writing is something I'm so incredibly passionate about and I have felt God leading me to take it on more regularly as a way to reach other mommas.

I express all of these dreams knowing full well that life can take turns we never imagined.  I'm open and excited (and a little nervous) to trust God in a new way. Mostly I'm looking forward to writing and sharing how He continues to bring life to me-- and through me-- as I work with people I love and get involved in causes close to my heart.

"The glory of God is a human being fully alive.  And to be alive consists in beholding God."
St. Irenaeus 

So what does this mean for you? Maybe it means prayerfully considering a risky career leap to do something that will bring God more glory and ultimately you more life.  Maybe it means starting a family or taking that trip you've been wanting to take for years. How will you pursue your most abundant life?

This Crazy Ride

I'm standing barefoot in our little galley kitchen, hips swaying.  I've got one baby in my arms and another with her arms wrapped around my legs.  And we're dancing. And singing together.  Our new favorite song is playing on repeat from the counter top.  The one that is still littered from last night's dinner dishes.  Oh, and the lunch before that.  It's 11 am and I'm still in my pajamas and the baby I'm holding could use a bath.  This has been my life for the past 8 weeks.  And it will continue to be for some time.

"Heaven knows that it's a crazy ride, it's never perfect all the time.  It'll pull you down and send you flying, so baby hold on tight, on this crazy ride..."

Life.  It sure is a crazy ride.  I think that's why this song resonates with me.  It's a life I never prepared for, never quite dreamed would turn out like this.  You know, the one where you are giving so much of yourself to little people that you find it hard to find your own self most days?

Someone asked me once if I enjoyed being a mother.  If I enjoy my children.  And I've contemplated this question a lot over the past few years.  Do I enjoy being a mom?  Well, there are definitely parts of being a mom that I don't enjoy.  There are those "get in the shower and cry so no one can hear me" times...If you say you don't have those kind of showers, you're lying.

There are those evenings that I swear if my daughter calls me one more time to get up to go the bathroom, I may destroy everything on the coffee table.  Because all I really want is a break. There's that darn breast pump that I'd like to hurl against the wall because I've become its slave for the past 2 months and there's no end in sight to our hate/hate relationship. When the baby is due for his 8 week shots and I'm having a panic attack because I hate to see him in pain.  When the endless pile of dishes in the sink starts to get to me. And the dancing in the kitchen doesn't seem so magical but more like a road block to keep me from getting things done in my day.

But I think that if you are a parent, you know the upside to this crazy ride is all of the unexpected moments in life that take your breath away.

Like your baby's very first smile. Or when he discover's his hands.  His first 6 hour stretch of sleep that leaves you feeling like a new person.  When your 3 year old writes her own name for the very first time.  When she finally masters how to "pump her legs" and then spends hours on the backyard swing set with a plastered on grin.  The first time you hear "I love you momma."

There's a joy to parenting that not a person or thing can steal.  Not the weary moments that come with having a newborn or the exasperating days that accompany toddler hood. And I'm in this place.  I'm on this roller coaster ride of parenting.  With all of the varying highs and lows and inbetweens.

So tonight, I'm going to let the dishes sit.
I'm going to pretend I don't smell the spit up milk that has been sitting too long on my pajama top. The one I probably should have changed hours ago. I'm going to hug my babies tight.
And we're going to dance.

Because all too soon, the days of first smiles and learning to pump will be gone. And it will be those days that I'll be missing and remembering.  Not the sleepless nights or the weariness and exhaustion that comes with being a young momma.  I'm on this crazy ride.  I'm right in the middle of it. It isn't anything like I thought it would be.  It isn't what I planned. It's actually better. And the amazing thing is, I wouldn't trade this ride for anything.  

Little Hearts

I'm learning that my daughter is a human sponge.  She's watching my every move. Taking in every word that my husband and I say and she's imprinting those words on her heart.

Each night before climbing into bed, we sneak into Mackenzie's room and we pray over her.  And each night before I leave, I whisper into her ear, "You are the best thing that ever happened to me.  Don't forget that".  And then I melt when she climbs into my lap the next morning and whispers, "You know you're the best momma that ever happened to me?"  Literally, some days I am floored that a seemingly sleeping child is hearing my words and that they mean something to her.

And several times a week I smile as I hear my husband ask Mackenzie from somewhere in the next room, "You know you are loved?"  So it shouldn't come as a surprise to me when, while she and I are out grocery shopping, her hand slipped tightly into mine, she looks up at me in the produce aisle and she sweetly says, "Momma?  You know you are loved?"

Because she's a sponge.  She's hearing our words and she's taking them in and they mean something to her.

But just as our positive words are being soaked up, I am reminded daily that, so are our negative words. Last year I was introduced to fellow blogger Jen Bucker.  She is a beautiful mother of two and is an amazing writer.  She has an incredible gift and I hope you will discover her like I have.  While reading one of her posts a while back, she wrote a line that I have not forgotten and it replays in my mind almost daily.

Jen wrote, "Little hearts should not be broken by little things."

Sounds simple enough.  But is it really?

How often do we get overwhelmed by the constant barraging of questions from our babies?  "Mommy, can you help me with..." or "Momma, I went potty in my pants..." Or maybe your baby is so small that he or she hasn't even formulated words yet.  Maybe you hear grunts and whining, accompanied by constant pointing to objects.  And you just want to pull your hair out by the end of the day.

Sometimes, I just cringe at the sound of the word.  "Momma."   And, I just want a break from the responsibility that comes tagged to it.  Like, maybe if I pretend that the shrill sound of my title being shrieked from the next room isn't actually for me....then maybe, (just maybe) I won't have to come to its every beckoning?

How often do we trip over the dress up clothes or stub our toes on the tricycle that is lying out in the middle of the floor?  How often do we hear the sound of a plate clanking from the dining room table and then we wait, shoulders tense and holding our breaths, just knowing that we're about to hear the words, "Uh oh, I spilled...."  And then we're inevitably on our hands and knees picking up stray pieces of macaroni and scrubbing cheese off of the walls.  Huffing and puffing and thinking, "I don't deserve this."

And some days I just snap.  I holler and I yell.   I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear my frustrations.  I make her smaller than she already is.  I belittle her and I let her know she is an annoyance to me.  And it shows all over her face.  Her already big, blue eyes get even wider and more round and I can just see that something has changed by the way her lips twitch.  For a small second, I am no longer "the best momma that ever happened to me." I've become someone she is afraid of.

And it is then that, in the back of my mind I remember, Little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Sometimes I find myself whispering it deliberately under my breath.  "Little hearts should not be broken by little things. Little hearts should not be broken by little things...." 

And the truth is, maybe that one moment won't actually make a lasting impression on my daughter.  Maybe she will skip off and continue her playtime of princesses and treasure maps. And soon she will have forgotten that mommy was ever upset.  Maybe.

But a friend recently pointed out to me, that we never know the exact point or moment in our child's life when he or she begins to formulate memories.  And what do I really want those memories to be of?  The ones where she is made to feel embarrassed and belittled for simply being a kid?  I hope and pray that those aren't the memories she's making each day.

When I think ahead to the kind of future that I want for my children, I know in my heart that it isn't always going to meet up to my ideal.  One day, my daughter is going to come home from school and she'll be fighting back tears and feeling like she's worth nothing.  Some mean girl will have made a snide comment or a certain boy will have told her she's not pretty enough.  And those days will break my heart as much as they will hers.

But here's what I do hope for on those inevitable days. Rather than my words for her as a baby and as a child, enforcing those feelings of unworthiness as a teenager-- I hope that she will come back to the words we whispered to her in the dark of night while she was sleeping. The words she hears now while she is wearing her princess crown and dancing merrily around our little home.

That, when the mean girl tells her she isn't "cool enough", she'll remember, I am the best thing that ever happened to my momma.  That when the boy she's so desperately seeking a kind word from, isn't giving her the time of day-- she'll remember my husband's words, "You know you are loved?" I hope and pray that our words- of positive affirmation and of love and security, are the words that speak the loudest to her on those terrible days.

Little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Today was a bad day.  I lost my temper this afternoon.  Mackenzie missed her nap and I snapped at all of the little annoyances of my day.  She went to bed crying.  I could be so angry at myself.  And part of me is.  But tonight, I climbed into her little white bed. I pulled her close to me and I whispered, "I'm sorry."  And she whispered right back, "It's okay momma. I love you".

 And I think it is those moments that matter the most.  The willingness as a mother to admit when I've been wrong.  The humility to let my little girl know that even her momma sometimes loses her temper.  And tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I will make new choices and I will repeat again those words, little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Repeat.