Why mother's day isn't really about me

 

To my beautiful children:

It is hard for me to remember a time in my life before I knew I wanted to be a mommy.  Your auntie and I played dolls long past the time one of us was too old for that.  I had a notebook wherein I scribbled the names of my imaginary children.  Elizabeth was on there for a long time.  Jo (after too many readings of Little Women).  Joshua and Caleb, my Biblical heroes.  When I was old enough, I looked after the tinies at our church nursery.  I gave up a kind of amazing opportunity to go to school in New York because I knew I wanted mommyhood to be my life's central focus.

Although I've had other dreams - the teaching one chief among them - I used to spend hours daydreaming about what life would be like as a wife and mother.

Now that I'm here - on the other side of that dream - with two beautiful, blossoming, wonderful and creative little lives, there is something I want you to know:

My darling children, you have made my dream come true.

In my young mind, motherhood was all about snuggling and kissing and dressing up those tiny humans.

And, while that is certainly part of our world, it turns out that that isn't my favorite part of motherhood.

From the moment I knew you were going to be part of our family, you each captured my heart.  The process of carrying you in my tummy, feeling the outlines of your sweet little bodies, the miraculous, breath-taking view of your faces for the first time.  Admiring and anticipating which of you would have my eyes, which your daddy's.  As you grow, I get a front row seat as your personalities emerge and are shaped.  The stubbornness.  The tenacity.  The desire to do right.  The amazing coming together of a life built partly of me, partly of the man I love, and partly out of someone all their own unique self.  I am priviledged to get to find ways to encourage you, to guide you, to understand you, to love you.  Those are the best parts of being a mommy. 

You are mine.  We are forever connected, and I love you so much more deeply than I could have ever imagined possible. 

But you are also your own.  Right from day one.  You each have your own heart, your own needs, your own wants.  As your momma, I strive (and struggle) to figure out how to nurture that heart.  To help you become the most amazing version of yourself. 

Sometimes I am so good at it.  Sometimes, you bring me to tears with pride.  Look what I've done!  I say.  Look at these amazing children who call me mom!

What I have learned over my short years of motherhood is that, as hard as I try, I will also let you down.  I will fall short.  I will momentarily forget, in the heat of stress and frustration, what little miracles you are. 

So, my babies, here is what I say to you today: 

thank you.

Thank you for making me a mommy.  For being my dream come true.  For teaching me about selflessness and forgiveness and perseverence, and my need for unending grace.  For melting my heart and loving me when I am unlovable.  For making me laugh and sharing my days.  For having my eyes.  For learning.  For living. 

I love you, my darlings.  Oh how I love you.

xoxo,

Mommy

Date night, mommy style

**I'm a week late in posting this, but I know you'll forgive me when you hear the deets. 

So we've been a man down here recently.  Casey was gone 27 out of 34 days - which is a lot when you're still nursing, washing diapers, making baby food, napping ever two hours (that would be the babe.  I should be so lucky), working full time and trying to run an entire household, all while being outnumbered 2:1. 

My big girl needed something fun to occupy her time. 

I mean, we did have the toilet paper in the sink episode.  And all the chucking stuff in random places.  And the pooping in the bathtub incident. 

So we were in desperate need of something that would remind us both how much we like each other and why we get along. 

Enter: the sleepover.

The plan?  Have icecream sandwiches, eat popcorn in bed, watch Cars and fall asleep in Mommy's bed.  It was date night, Mommy-style. 

And it was a huge hit. 

Like, mind-blowing.  The little girl absolutely could not stop talking about the idea of eating popcorn in bed.  And she loooooved getting to sleep in Mommy's bed. 

She's pretty sweet, that big girl of mine.  And she has just the best heart of anyone I've ever met.  It's nice to be reminded, amidst the challenges of being a tiny person with a big vocabulary and big wants and desires, just how much I do love that sweet little thing. 

No pictures were snapped because, well, aparantly I just don't do that these days.  But we had a ball.  I highly recommend having a sleepover with the little loved one(s) in your life.

On the day I closed a door

"So... I quit my job today."

Read the e-mail I sent to my husband as my heart pounded away.  It was followed immediately by, "I have to submit a letter of resignation, so if we have any doubts, now's the time to call it off..."

I ran into one of my all-time favorite students.  He said to me, "I had a really rough freshman year.  Every time I got down on myself, I just remembered what you said to me at the end of 8th grade.  It really meant a lot to me."  (Sidenote: I sure wish I could remember what the heck I said to him!)

One of my co-workers who has been teaching for over a decade told me what a great teacher she thinks I am.  One of the best she's ever seen, in fact.  She was genuinely distressed at my leaving.

It's nice to feel accomplished.  It's nice to feel like I'm good at the job that I love.  I'm not completely sure how I got so lucky as to actually be good at this crazy job, but the truth is: I am pretty darn good.  Largely because I am surrounded by some truly wonderful people.  Together, we make an almost unstopable team. 

And I'm leaving it behind. 

These two little faces.  They're just so darned worth it. 

I'm nervous and excited.  And 100% sure they'll keep me hopping in ways those 8th graders never could. 

Because motherhood is beautiful

Our sweet little peanut.  9 minutes old

 

Motherhood is beautiful. 

 

Even when it comes after 24 hours of labor.

 

 

Even when it comes accompanied by 16 gallons of IV fluid.

 

Motherhood is beautiful.

 

And oh, so worth it.

 

 

I came accross these pictures while designing invites for a friend's baby shower, and I couldn't resist posting them.

 

Between the going back to the hospital, the buying and rennovating a house and the moving, teeny tiny baby Logan didn't really get his fair air time anyway.  Not to mention, he was only teeny tiny for like 12.5 seconds.

 

Besides...

 

in all its exhausted, worn out, joyous, overwhelmed, miraculous forms,

 

Motherhood is beautiful.

 

Great and tiny heritage.

 

During my devotional last night, I was asked to consider the following verse as it applies to motherhood:

"Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from him."

Psalm127:3

 

I wanted to share my response.  In no way is it meant to be preachy.  I'm posting it in the hopes that it will encourage someone who is struggling with some of the same things I am struggling with on their mother's journey.

 

This verse reminds me of what a sacred bond exists between mother and child.  Not simply a gift or a joy, but a very intentional, divinely-inspired pairing.  My job here is not little - "to whom much is given, much is expected."  My approach, then, must always have God as the foundation.  Love, service, integrity, honesty, grace and prayer.  To love in the way God intended: with patience, kindness, selflessness, hope and perseverence. 

 

Emphasis for mothering small children: PATIENCE AND SELFLESSNESS.

 

These precious ones are not burdens - no, not even when Leah throws all her shoes on the floor or runs a sink full of water and fills it with toilet paper or Logan wakes up four times in five hours.  They are my gifts, my heritage and reward from the Lord.

 

The prayer of my mother's heart:

Lord God, please instruct me in your ways so that I might love as you have loved me.  That I may put aside my own desires and instincts to give love and guide with wisdom while expecting nothing in return.  Thank you, thank you for my two beautiful blessings. 



Eight.

 

Eight months brings:

 

Two teeth popping through (finally, they're actually popping through!!).

 

Crawling.  So much for the days when I could put him on a blanket on the floor and expect him to stay there.

 

 

 

Kids who legit play together.

 

Some very serious, very unhappy screaming.  Poor little teething guy.

 

He says HI, HUNGRY, and MORE (this one in sign language).  I swear he's also said Leah.  Scout's honor.  I feel like she'll be his first foresure word.  He also said I love you.  Okay, so he didn't so much say it as mimic the exact tones I use when I tell him I love you.  It counts(ish).

 

He's back to his old hyginx of waking up several times through the night.  I'm not sure why, but I really wish it would stop.

 

 

Has tried some actual solids (not baby-food "solids"), including puffs (which are now a hit and demanded every day as he pounds and screams waits patiently for his meals), peas without the little green shell, and tiny, mashable pieces of bread.

 

Sister loves to help in this process.

 

 

 

Chugs water like a college kid at a frat party. 

 

Loves to play on his tummy.  And rolls constantly. 

 

 

He is sooooo giggly, and ticklish.  It's hillarious, and we just laugh at how adorable he is.

 

Is a grabby-grabhands, and looooves to pull hair, grab toys, tip things over... whatever he can get to. 

 

I wouldn't classify him as an easy baby.  He definitely likes things a certain way, and he doesn't calm as easily as sister did.  But I can't imagine my life without him.  I'm totally smitten. 

 

It's also a little shameful to realize just how few pictures I've taken over the last month.  Luckily... this is officially Logan's last birthday on which I'll be working.  Like - with any luck, for a really, really long time. :)  To say I'm excited about it would be the understatement of the century.

 

 

Challenges included, I don't think we could have asked for a better addition to our little family.  I love this little guy more than words can express, and - as always - I feel so lucky to be his mommy.

The Casa es Bonita

Once upon a time, I dove off some cliffs.

Then, I had babies, so that wasn't really my thing anymore.

But one day, the two intersected.  And I was totally stoked.  And it looked like this:



I have been this pirate.  Oh yes, I have.

The food?  It's still totally disgusting.  I used to get Taco Bell as an upgrade before I came into work.

The lighting no es bonita.

One of the coolest high school jobs ever?  Um, yahuh!