The Extraordinary Ordinary

1. Playing with a monkey.  Dressed in newborn clothing.

2. Fingerpainting (don't worry - it's edible!)

3. Building blanket forts with Daddy

4. Cleaning up toys in a bucket

5. Admiring the flamingos at the zoo and learning what noise they make

6. Up close and personal with mother nature

7. Just walkin' with Mom

8. Trying an icecream cone for the first time

9. What happens after a long day at the zoo, and a cuddly new tiger (or two!)

Extraordinary?  Totally.
Ordinary?  Yep.  And thank goodness for that.

I am a tad OCD and other maternal realizations

I had a realization about motherhood this weekend.

After attending three different events and encountering three completely different sets of people, with three completely different sets of expectations about the way my motherhood should be executed, it hit me:

There's really no right way to do this.

Motherhood, that is.  (Alright, so I'm a little slow on the uptake.  Seems like the 4.0, college - no, Masters - grad should figured this out a little more quickly.)

It hit me on my third round of "oh you shoulda..."

...as in, "Oh, you shoulda brought the pack and play!  You could have put her to bed here!  Don't want to let her get too well-routined, she'll start to run your life!"
..."Oh, you should take that plastic spoon away from her so she doesn't trip and ram it into her brain and bleed all over our lovely brickwork."
..."Oh, you shoulda stayed home!"  (Insert look of judgement.)  "It's important for children to have routine so they don't turn out socially imbalanced and odd."

Whereas I would never take the pack and play, because I know that Leah doesn't do well in unfamilliar situations and wouldn't settle down for bed.

Whereas I elected to let her play with the plastic spoon, because nothing else at the event was small-child friendly and it's really, really unfair of me to tell a nearly-15-month-old NO at every.single.turn. when she's just behaving like a nearly-15-month-old. (Besides, at this BBQ she had already picked up and licked a rock.  I mean, come on.  Plastic spoon, or rock?!)

Whereas I got her home a little past her bed time so we could attend the event at all.  Besides, wasn't I just accused of letting Leah "run my life" by someone else?  Now I'm too liberal on the rules?

In other words, my version of motherhood is never going to look just like someone else's.  I refuse to accept that my version is any less valid, however. 

Doesn't make me perfect. 

Doesn't make them.

So, in honor of my new revelation, here's my attempt at tackling this monumental task called raising up a person out of nothing, and a resource.

Yes, I recognize that I am a tad OCD.  Maybe more than a tad by some standards. 

Last summer, I stumbled upon a website called Inspired to Action that was all about the idea of professional, intentional motherhood.  Motherhood that tackles the job with the same passion and dedication that one might tackle, say, a JOB. 

I love it.  And it works for me. 

When I teach, I use the concept of backward design.  In short, I figure out what I want the kids to know and be able to do, I identify exactly what that looks like, and then I write daily lesson plans that address the big goals. 

This process of starting my mornings helps me to do just that with my motherhood.  Time to work out.  Time to study God's word.  Time to prayerfully and planfully begin my day and my week, and ensure that I'm taking time to address the big goals I want to address as a mom.  Otherwise, it's much too easy for me to lose sight of big goals in the fray of minute little tasks.

I've had to amend my list, too. 

Notice, nowhere on here does it say, "change diaper" or "put Leah down for her nap."  This is my list of BIG ticket items to accomplish each day.  I'm discovering that I can't always do that in between all that other stuff. 

But, it's something we're working on. 

And it helps me to ensure that my priorities are in there somewhere, too.  God.  Family.  Me.  All of these need to be tended and nurtured in order for my sanity to remain intact. 

So, with a nod to all the mistakes this mom is going to make along the way, here's hoping I can do a few things right. 

Even if I do let my daughter run with plastic spoons.

My Act of Faith

I got a few interesting comments about my trying to get pregnant post.

One of them shook me a little.  The gist of it was this:

Why are you telling everybody about this?  This is so personal!  Nobody wants to hear about your sex life!

And to that I have to reply: I have no intention of telling you about my sex life.  That is personal.

So why am I writing about trying to get pregnant? 

Because last time, I was all about the fear.  The worry.  The despair.  The desperate hope that I could get pregnant and carry a baby.  Each day before I got pregnant felt like a battle between my head and my heart.  When I did get pregnant, I fought that fear again, pushing it down and trying to have faith.  And let's not even get into the struggles I faced in battling fear after she was born.

This time around, I'm trying to be a whole new Melissa. 

This Melissa is all about celebrating.  Celebrating the process.  Celebrating when it happens.  Celebrating whatever happens with my pregnancy, should we get that far. 

And, although I won't announce it to massive amounts of people - I'm talking to you, Facebook - I won't hide my pregnancy through the first trimester because I'm worried about loosing the baby.

If it doesn't end the way I want it to, I'll deal with that too.  Not to say I wouldn't be devastated and heartbroken, because I will.  But I know that sometimes, God's blessings and mercy are demonstrated, not in the light of our lives, but in the darkest hours.  (And, with any luck, you won't have to remind me that I said all of this.)

Jeremiah 29:11: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

Fear is banished.  Faith is in. 

Besides... things worked out pretty darn well last time, if I do say so myself!

Bringing you along on this journey?  That is my act of faith.

Just how "non-toxic" are we talkin', here?

I am a perfect mother.

OH - sorry.  You couldn't see it, because this is a blog, but what you missed was me laughing hysterically as I tried to type that sentence. 

Okay, so I might not be a perfect mother, in the traditional white-apron, high-heels, tidy-house sense.  But I do try.  Really, I do. 

I mean, look at my sweet little pumpkin and her art project.

Look at how well-thought out and intentional I was about introducing her to art projects for the first time!

Note the painters tape, put down to prevent her from pulling up and eating the paper.  And, of course, I had to use painter's tape because it would come up easily without leaving any of that nasty tape-essence behind.

And how well I modeled using markers!  Doesn't this look like it's going well?!

C'mon.  Props for that, right?

So when this happened...

...and the marker went right in her kisser and she sucked up a BIG OLE' MOUTHFUL of Crayola, it's okay, right??  Because I made such a good attempt.  That's what counts.  Besides, they're non-toxic markers. 

Admit it.  I make you feel better about yourself. 

Making feet for little shoes

I cannot imagine any circumstances under which this would be too much information.  But, if you're easily offended, well... it's probably time to read another blog.

We're going for it.  We're getting back on the...er... horse.  (Yep - I went there!)

In other words...

the time has come to try for baby #2!

I just like to keep everybody posted. 

So say a prayer for us, will ya?  I'm trying really, really hard not to be in control of or anxious about this one, keeping in mind that God does all things in His perfect timing.   

Psalm 37:7: Be still in the presence of the LORD, and wait patiently for him to act.

And we all know how good I am at waiting patiently.

The one where mommy held another baby

If I had any illusions about bringing another baby into our family easily and without any fireworks, they are hereby dispelled.

Today, we went to visit Auntie Jessica and baby James. 

Leah is always a bit reserved when she's not in her comfort zone, but she usually gets along quite well with Auntie Jessica.  Sure, she's never her comfortable, relaxed, talkative self, but she tends to do okay.

Things went fine, until Mommy tried to hold baby James.

Then I had a totally different child on my hands.

She was easily upset, cried each time she fell (which she never, ever does.  She's usually so tough I'm amazed), walked around throwing things and generally creating chaos, and pulled on my leg while yelling "UP!" (completely breaking my heart, I might add).

And she has been off all day, even back home. 

It must be nice to be the only baby!  LMS 8 days old

Ahhh, things.  They are a-changin'!

All in all, big transitions will be in store for my dear heart, who, I'm sorry to inform her, will not remain an only child forever if I have anything to say about it.

Poor little pumpkin.  I think I traumatized her.  And probably Auntie Jessica, too.

It's pink, because no other baby will use it

Confession.

I wanted to buy everything in pink from the moment I found out Leah was a girl.

The crazy part?  I've never even liked pink! 

I blame my mother.  She went off the deep-end and attempted to drown me in pink when I was a child.  So I revolted.  I liked green and purple and blue and yellow; anything that offered me a little variety.

And then that darn cake came back pink.

Somewhere deep inside me, a floodgate opened.  Suddenly I needed to define my baby.  She's a girl, and baby girls need pink. 

Not to mention, society has given us a wealth of opportunities to declare, "MY BABY IS A GIRL!" in everything from bedding, bouncers and high chairs, to wash rags, pack-and-plays, swings and so much more.  (And let's not even talk about the clothes, it's just too obvious.)

I restrained myself.  I went for the green bedding, a neutral pack-and-play, and a black car seat and stroller so that other hypothetical future babies would feel free to be boys, should God divine it that way.  That's just good planning, after all. 

But this?  This I couldn't resist.

Besides, as my husband reminded me as I debated about getting a neutral one... she's going to be sitting in some version of this carseat for the next 6 plus years. 

Realistically?  No other child of ours is going to use this car seat. 

So it's pink.  And I am quite happy about it. 

The fact that my baby is in a front-facing, big-girl car seat is a totally different story.