by Amy | Aug 1, 2013 | confessional
I’m really struggling this morning. And you know what? I’m sick of the word “struggling” being part of my vocabulary. We all struggle, don’t we? So I don’t want to give myself an out by saying that I’m struggling, but the truth is–I am.
My back has been killing me these last 2 days and I have been having a really hard time sleeping. I think it feels much better today than it did yesterday, but it is still really painful. If that were all, I think I could probably handle it. But when I’m out of commission for any reason, everything else seems to fall apart. Thomas has had to take on the kids and even stayed home from work yesterday to help out, but he also had to work from home, so this caused a lot of tension in our household. It’s just very easy to get used to things being done in a certain way, and the kids have certain expectations about what we are going to do from day to day. It’s challenging when those expectations are met with disappointment because Mommy is a lame duck and can’t do anything.
Yesterday, by 6pm, they were stir crazy. We all were. I could barely walk. Thomas was trying hard to get work done. And the boys desperately wanted to go to the pool. I felt bad all day that I couldn’t do anything with them. If I could have taken them on my own, I would have done that in a heartbeat. But I could barely move. Thomas was feeling the pressure of their constant requests and kept prolonging the situation by holding them off and trying to get more work done. What ended up happening is he made some big mistakes because he couldn’t focus his attention solely on what he was trying to do and it cost him dearly. I was so angry at him for even attempting to work when I was in such dire straits. And he was so angry and stressed about all the responsibility being placed on him and all he still needed to do workwise. It was a perfect storm. There were a few yells and screams and stomps and toy trips that led to toy kicks (on our part) followed by frustration and tension and more yelling (by the kids). Thankfully, we ended up finally getting out of the house and went to the pool all in one piece. We actually ended up having a pretty good time. And the kids wore themselves out, so that was good. I just hate that it had to come to yelling and screaming and extreme tension in our household for us to take a step back and realize what is really important. I wish we could just be more prepared for things like this and have a system in place. These are the times you really feel alone in the world. There was really no one we could call upon and say, “hey…you know what? We’re spent…we’re over the edge…can you come and get the kids so we can sort this out and have a break?!” Nope…it was just us. In a way, I’m really glad we don’t have the option of relying on anyone else. Maybe we’d take the easy road too often if we knew we could. It is so hard raising a family and keeping everything together – esp. when they are young and so needy.
Yesterday, while we were at the pool, I was sitting there noticing several families. One woman was lounging on a lounge chair sipping something from her huge thermal cup. She seemed pretty content. She seemed pretty relaxed. “When will that be me?” I thought. But then I looked over at my little ones jumping around with their huge water wings and life vests on just squealing with glee to be thrown up in the air in the pool, and I thought, “But I’ll really miss this.” It’s true. I will really miss their ages right now and this sweet stage of our lives when they are little, so cute and so utterly dependent on us as their providers and protectors. I love my kids, and I don’t really ever want them to grow up. Deep down, I really just wish there was some way to meld the two scenarios together: Getting to have sweet, precious little kids running around the house and having built-in breaks for sanity and reflection from time to time. I guess it would be possible if we’d plan it and make it a priority. I think we just get so caught up in what has to be done that we don’t take time for ourselves like we need to.
That’s just it. We get caught up. We get lost in the jolting, spinning winds of this tornado of life we live in. I’ve never actually experienced a real live tornado, but I sometimes feel the metaphor is all too accurate when you have small children. There are moments (while they are sleeping) when peace is all around. There appears to be an abundance of space and time and logical reasoning. In your heart of hearts you actually believe that you have control during these short, precious moments, and you ponder why you don’t do more in your life and get more done throughout your day. Questions actually come to my mind like, “Why don’t I have a better handle on things? This isn’t so bad. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I get it together?? Get a grip, Amy!!!” Then they wake up. The order I once imagined and the day that I had planned so thoughtfully in my mind gets caught up in the spinning dust of this frantically moving whirlwind they single-handedly create. They twirl through the house leaving nothing untouched in their paths. They instantly wake up with needs that never seem to go away as long as their eyes are open. They are loud. They are demanding. They have expectations. They have very specific needs that must be met…or else. By 5pm almost every day, I look around me and think to myself (and sometimes outloud), “What in the just happened here?” I had planned to do this or that. I had hoped to enjoy our day and get a few things done that actually need to be done. And yet, all plans I had previously had eluded me as the day went on. The whirlwind grew stronger and I grew weaker and more fragile. How did this happen?!
So here I am. I’m struggling. My lower back is a wreck. My house is a mess. And I don’t just mean my house as in these physical four walls I live in. When I say my house, I’m referring to everything in my life…my home – my ability to get my kitchen in order and have what I need on hand for lunches and dinner; our family budget; the boys’ clothes cleaned out and sorted (so I know what fits and what doesn’t); the pictures that need to be taken down or hung; the friends who need to be called back; the emails that need to be returned; the bills that need to be paid; the memories that need to be captured; the people I want to serve; the devotions I want to have; the blog posts I want to write. You get the picture. Everything is out of whack when we don’t have time to focus and get things done every now and then. And for me, right now everything is out of whack. I want to be organized. I want to be focused. I want to be on the ball and have things under control more than EVER! But somehow, this all eludes me. It just doesn’t ever seem to happen – unless I burn extreme midnight oil and then I’m an even bigger wreck than I was before.
So what gives? Who has this figured out? I’ve always enjoyed reading biographies about people who are successful at whatever they accomplished. I’d love to read about a Mother of 2 boys who was successful at keeping her crap together. I’m serious. Where is she? I need her formula! I’m dyin’ over here! I’m desperate for some answers and some foolproof strategies. I’m desperate for a system that allows me to enjoy these precious pups and not feel like the world is collapsing in utter shambles all around me while I’m left here with the daunting task of “enjoying every moment…because it goes by so fast!”
If you know this woman, send her my way. We need to talk.
Dear Lord,
Please forgive me for trying to do everything in and of my own physical strength. I am trying so hard. Who isn’t? I want the very best for my children, but I feel like I can’t give them the very best until I have had some time to get well again and get some things in order. Not just silly things. But really necessary things. Help me get through this time and not just endure but really enjoy and soak up this special, precious season of life. Help me to find some space and time in my day (like I did this morning by getting up at 4:51am) without being a total wreck from sleep deprivation. Help me to make things simpler in my life; to get things streamlined so that it doesn’t take so much mental/physical effort to accomplish the mundane tasks. Forgive me for my lack of consistency and discipline. If I woke up every morning early there’s no end to the things I could accomplish. If I did little things here and there on an every day basis, I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. Help me with that, Lord.
Thank you for being my strength and my shield. Thank you for loving me even when I’m unlovable. Thank you for allowing me moments of joy even when my face and my inner being feels like scowling.
Grant us peace today, Lord. Grant us rest.
Amen
by Amy | Jul 24, 2013 | mama confessions
Ugh…I’m in a funk. I don’t like to usually write about my funks, but here I am…in one. Why? Because I hardly ever get a moment to myself. It’s the universal feeling/phrase every Mommy of young children I know feels/says. It’s true. We don’t. Most of us desperately want and need those quiet moments to think, reminisce, do something fun — for ourselves, read, journal, blog (ha!), sort out thoughts and feelings or here’s a thought, just BE. But they come so seldom. Those quiet moments. And they have been coming even less frequently for me lately as I take care of two very active little boys — one, of which, hasn’t offered me a full night’s sleep since his birth over two years ago. I honestly have a theory that he probably has it out for me and was placed on this planet to teach me a lesson. But that’s another blog post. The other contributing factor in my lack of time and energy issue is the fact that I’m 4 months pregnant with our third, and I’ve been unbelievably tired and unable to stay up late, stay awake during their naps (when they occur) or get up early…or should I say earlier than my kids. So, in case you’ve wondered about me or perhaps even missed my blog posts (hee hee), this is why you haven’t heard from me in a while.
Disclaimer: Major, carnal complaining below.
I’m cooked. I’m baked. I’m fried. I’m done. I’m dunzo. Stick a fork in me. I’m over the edge…in over my head. I could not be more over it. I’m on a deserted island waving my surrender flag. I’m in jail making my one phone call. I’ve had it up to…you get the picture.
So, here I am. Craving time. Craving quiet moments of reflection at a time when I so desperately need them and they seem to elude me entirely. And this has caused me to become unraveled…just a bit. OK, a lot. Add that lack of time to some unforeseen personal conflicts I’ve been experiencing, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for a total meltdown. And a meltdown I had this past weekend. A BIG one! I mean, the screaming, crying, hyperventilating kind of meltdown where I actually uttered the words, “I NEVER GET ANY TIME TO MYSELF!!!!!!!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!!” And then I left the house with swollen, puffy, burnt holes in a blanket for eyes and took time for myself. I couldn’t enjoy that time I took, mind you, because it was too long overdue, and I had just thrown a huge temper tantrum causing my kids to cry and be scared of me. But I needed to take that time, and darn it, I did. With a guilt-ridden pit in the bottom of my stomach, I went to the farmer’s market alone and bought some tomatoes, for the love of…because God only knows, we needed more farm fresh tomatoes in our house! And then I went to Macy’s to walk around. I was offered a makeover. I must have looked like I needed it. That and a bigger pair of shorts to support my ever-growing belly. And then I walked back to the car, empty-handed, and drove home as fast as I could and entered the front door in shame. What was I thinking?!
After we all got past that momentous meltdown, I quickly tried to line up some sitters for the following week. Then I realized I had a doctor’s appointment on the day I had set up a babysitter for some “down time”. The babysitter still came. I went to my doctor’s appt. alone. Yay me. Then I came home and sat in a corner and ate chips and salsa within earshot of hearing my kids laugh and play with the babysitter. What was wrong with me? If I really needed time to myself, why didn’t I just take it?? But no, I needed to come home and torture myself and attempt to get something done while still being within 10 feet of my children. That never works.
Later that same day, I had another sitter come, but I quickly realized that I needed to get cash to pay her and the babysitter from that morning, so I left the house and went to the grocery store. I got home with 10 minutes to spare before she had to leave. Again…what?! What in the name of all that is holy was I thinking?! Do I even know how to adequately and efficiently use my time off anymore? And better yet, will I ever be able to again?
Aughh! Life is so hard sometimes isn’t it? I mean, I know deep down that people all around me are going through much more difficult issues than I am, but even that simple fact doesn’t take away the sting of my own personal issues that seem to plague me and cause me to feel like I’m going to come out of my skin. I mean, what’s a girl supposed to do to sort through things and get some time for herself? Should I start scheduling my hair washing and leg shaving at midnight? Do I need to start getting up at 4am and read my Bible and do my prayers and journaling then? Really? Because truthfully, I’ve tried everything else and I don’t know how to pull this off otherwise.
I think I’ve mentioned in previous posts how much “alone time” I’ve always needed throughout my life. If you go by the Meyers Briggs test, I fall right in the center of introvert/extrovert, but I think I’ve always been a closet introvert. I know that I gain perspective, energy and renewal by being alone. Sometimes, throughout my life, I’ve been known to shut myself up in my apartment or my room for days on end just reading, reflecting and praying. Wow, did God have a twisted sense of humor when he gave me two kids. I’m never alone. Never! And most of the time, I love it. I enjoy being stretched and tried. But then there are times like these when I would give my right arm for an entire day…or week…to myself.
So here I am. If you are in the same boat, I can relate. We Mommies are creative people with our own set of needs and desires that, many times, don’t get met. I know…whaaaahhhh! Right? Poor us. We are blessed with these amazing little creatures that we prayed for and wanted. How do we have the right to whine and complain about the fact that we don’t have time?! Didn’t we expect this? I mean, how stupid were we to think we’d somehow manage to carve out time and space in our lives for ourselves from time to time?! The funniest irony is that I used to look at my Mommy friends who had seemed to lose sense of what year we were in and think, “Really? Get a grip!” Ha! To all of those friends, I’m so, so sorry! Karma is a very cute thing, isn’t it?
I said all of that to say that I’m learning. I’m a work in progress. I’m realizing that this is a season in my life that I need to figure out how to cope with. Lately I feel like I’ve been coping in a resistant kicking and screaming kind of way. But I’d like to cope with it in a graceful, Audrey Hepburn kind of way with a lot of God’s grace sprinkled in. In other words, I don’t want to look back on this time in my life (and in case we’ve forgotten, it is just a short short time) and think, “Wow…I spent those crucial, precious, formative years of my kids’ younger years lamenting the fact that I had NO time to myself!” No no…NO!!! I want to look back and say, “I enjoyed EVERY second of those little years and I gave of myself 100%…completely and unselfishly…and I have NO regrets!”
So, if you’re struggling with this issue…past, present or future…will you pray with me?
Dear Lord,
Release me from the feeling of always needing more time. Provide help for me where and when I need it and cause me to utilize and redeem the time I do have to myself so I can be refilled and renewed for the task of taking care of small children. Realize in me the principle that, without you, I can do nothing. Help me to remember that when I feel defeated, emptied and exhausted. Just as airplanes can refuel in flight, help me to be refueled by your reserves that I have already stored up via prayer, verses, encouraging talks with friends, quotes, quality time with my husband and books I’ve read. Help me to find some space and time on a regular basis where I can unwind and rejuvenate, so that I can be absolutely present and prepared for what I have to face in my daily life without feeling deprived or drained. Help me to filter out unnecessary things that steal my joy or deplete me of the energy that I so desperately need.
Thank you for all you have given me. Amen
by Amy | May 22, 2013 | mama confessions
Don’t you love it when you learn something completely unexpected from a situation you’ve been placed in?
This week, my husband’s job took him out of town for the first time ever. I was excited for him, but somewhat overwhelmed by the idea that I would be alone with our two children, ages 4 1/2 and 2 for three straight days. I realize this is nothing for many women out there, but for me, this was huge! My husband helps out so much, and truthfully, I don’t even want to use the word “help” because he really is one of those husbands who voluntarily shares the responsibility of raising our children. He does work outside of the home during the week, but when he is home in the evenings, he does a lot with the kids as well as around the house.
I knew I would miss him, his presence and his help while he was gone, but one thing I did not realize was how much I needed him to leave us alone for a few days for me to gain some much-needed perspective. Let me explain by backing up just a bit…
I am and from as far back as I can remember, always have been, addicted to ambition. Now, that doesn’t mean I’ve always been successful. I’ve failed at a lot of things in life for sure. Whew, have I failed! But I truly am a creative soul who loves to pursue, to be challenged, to contemplate, to work at things, develop ideas and do. I love doing. And there has always been something about tapping into my creativity that has given me so much joy and inspiration. I crave it. I need it. I love it!
I put off having children for a long time for this very reason. I knew that having kids would put a temporary hold on my creative endeavors and ambitions, and I wasn’t ready for that. When my husband and I did finally settle into the idea of having kids, I was 33 and finally felt somewhat satisfied with all I had attempted and been successful at doing up until that point. I was ready to just (ha!) be a Mom and see where that road would take me.
Over the past 4 1/2 years, since my first son and then the second son were born, I have really not been able to shake this ambition gene. Even when I would tell myself that the whole career thing didn’t really matter to me and my kids were numero uno, I always knew deep down that there was a huge conflict going on inside of me. I often felt the pang of disappointment when I had to turn opportunities down, and more than once, I was caught off guard by other people’s successes and how they would make me feel. Even though I absolutely loved my children and knew that I had chosen to be a stay-at-home-but-still-sorta-working Mom, I always still felt the tugging of the life I once knew and the validity it gave me and the struggle I faced with having to live on the outskirts of it all.
These past few months, my mind has been literally spinning. I can now take a step back and look at myself in perspective, and I can honestly say that I’ve probably seemed most like a hamster on a wheel. I’ve been running…and running…and running, but in the end, I kind of feel like I’ve arrived nowhere for it all. I’ve been continuing to try and keep my feet wet and working odd and poor paying jobs to keep the money flow, connections and perhaps even a little prestige. I’ve paid good money to have my vocal studio logo and website revamped, even though, when I was honest with myself, I felt strongly at the end of last year that I had lost my passion for it while trying to raise two little boys. I started a new endeavor with this website and have spent countless hours formulating business ideas surrounding the idea of it, but have dropped the ball on many occasions out of sheer exhaustion and overwhelm. I spent another moderate chunk of change getting certified to lead personal renewal groups for women and most recently, I signed up to be a distributor for a product my family and I use.
Truth be told, all of these endeavors are great ones. And I also love singing and reading and cooking and would love to take up sewing and quilting and photography and a good Bible study and beading and. the. list. goes. on. I love the “how-to” section of books at the library. If I allowed myself, I would take home and read through every single one of them. And learn how to. I have a very curious mind that wants to know a lot. It’s a blessing. And a curse.
But here’s the deal…all of these “pursuits” have taken SO much time and focus away from my kids. And I didn’t even realize it. Until this week. Sure, I knew that I was longing for time…that precious time we mothers never get. But when they both went off to preschool 2 days a week, I still felt time-deprived. 1:30pm almost ALWAYS came too soon. I was actually relieved when they got out of school last week, because then I didn’t have to think about efficiently using that TIME anymore. Then there were the weekends. Those longed for weekends when we dreamily imagine that the husband is going to come in on a white horse, swoop up the kids and deliver us from our duties so that we can pursue other, more exciting things outside of wiping snot off of couches, scraping playdo off the floors and folding laundry. But that time would fly by as well, and many Sunday nights were spent silently (or sometimes not so silently) pouting that nothing…nothing I had anticipated accomplishing…had gotten done even after my husband had taken the kids out of my sight for hours on end, to give me: TIME.
In my heart of hearts, I knew that all of this was a choice I had made. I had chosen busy. I had chosen hectic. I had, in essence, chosen my creative endeavors and ambition over being present and raising my children well. I always justified this in my mind by saying that everything comes with a price tag and we have to sacrifice some things in order to gain others, and it was good for them to learn that other people can care for them besides me, and it was important that I had me-time…blah blah blah…, but I knew, deep down, these were all lies I had told myself to justify all the busy-ness…the busy-ness that didn’t include them.
Oddly enough, even when my oldest son went through some pretty serious medical issues a few months back, I was jolted but still not moved enough to really change the way I did things. I knew that I needed to be present and it gave me a sense of feeling like I didn’t have any control, but I still plunged ahead allowing my mind to spin even more aimlessly trying to achieve, to accomplish, to make something happen.
Stay with me as I come back full circle to this week. My husband is gone for a few days. I’m home with the kids alone. I have no other option than to pull the plug on all other endeavors and just be with them. There is no light at the end of the tunnel when the hub finally gets home and relieves me of my duties. There is no other standby to take over when I’m feeling like I JUST CAN’T HANDLE THEM ANYMORE!!! There is just us — the 3 of us (well, 4 if you count the dog…and I do). We’re going through good times and not so good times. We’re here. We’re in the moment. We’re together. And it’s oh so grand! We’re playing with cars and trucks and doing puzzles and playing games. We’re taking long baths and reading books and eating popcorn and playing with playdo for long stretches at a time without me feeling the urge to clean it all up so the house can appear like kids don’t live here. I’ve let dishes go. I’ve let laundry go. I’ve let emails go. I’ve skipped on the extras and kept things to bare essentials. I haven’t thought a bit about my ambitions and aspirations. And I like it. Not only that, but my oldest son has noticed a change in me over the last two days. After our fun day today, he looked up at me and said, “This has been really fun, Mommy.” I knew what he meant. He meant that having me without interruption…without other priorities on my to-do list…having my full attention and interacting with me was “really fun” and it meant a lot to him.
The fact that he noticed this made me completely satisfied and content and completely and utterly sad at the same time. Why? Because I’ve let myself be consumed for far too long with all of these unimportant, mind-cluttering things. I’ve sat my oldest in front of a dvd far too many times throughout his 4 years of life so I could “get something done”. And what did I accomplish? Well, I probably got a few things done, but mostly, I probably just wasted some precious time I could have been playing with him on the floor and hugging and cuddling and kissing that sweet, precious face, and even sadder, I’ve subtly taught him that he wasn’t one of the most important things in my life! How tragic is that?
Now, I’m not saying that taking “Mommy Time” is wrong or sometimes even much-needed and well-earned. We all need a break…or two…or three. And I’m also not implying that working Mommies should feel guilty. Many of us really need to be bringing in a 2nd income, and yes, that requires some sacrificing and hours of time not spent with our children every day. And for some, ambition and creativity can be carefully contained and balanced with motherhood. But, for me, I know I’ve let this idea run a little too far, and it has been a very slippery and treacherous slope. I also have an incredibly supportive husband who allows me to make decisions that will impact him and the kids without ever saying much or protesting the huge responsibility it leaves with him. He trusts me to have good judgment with what I sign us all up for, so perhaps I’ve allowed myself to indulge in my endeavors and quests a little too lavishly and take on things that don’t really matter…and perhaps at my family’s expense. And in so doing, I’ve missed out on some quality, present time with my “littles” as my friend Susan calls them, so I could perhaps selfishly pursue…achieve…accomplish…and feel satisfied with my life…and have it all. And frankly, post-epiphany, this all makes me physically ill. I mean, seriously…what could be more important than being absolutely present and involved with the very children who came out of my own womb?! Wake up, Amy!
So, my friends, I think you have met a new woman in the making. So long, odd jobs! So long, commitments that don’t involve my children! So long, pursuits and drive and ambition for things that eat at my soul and take me away from my littles. Their little time is fleeting. I have the rest of my life to be ambitious about other things after I’ve been ambitious about being with them and raising them to the best of my God-given ability! Yes, this is all a balancing act. I, too, have to take care that I don’t go to the other extreme and lose my grip on reality by not doing things I enjoy from time to time. But my goal is no longer to suit my own needs and aspirations. My current goal is to see that I really know and experience my children and they really know and experience me; that they are raised and taught by me about Christ; and that they experience the selfless love of God through me. If I can’t give them that, who can?
Disclaimer:
Two years ago, a post like this one would have made me furious. Anyone ever heard of women’s lib? I can bring home the bacon…fry it up in the pan! And you know what? I am fully prepared that it will bring out some fury in some readers out there who are living their lives to the fullest and raising their youngins to the best of their ability with no guilty conscience whatsoever. This is not about you and your family. This is about me and my family, and what God is doing in our lives and my conscience. As they say, live and let live! Whatever your path, I implore you to do it to your utmost ability. If your path is that of a hard-working Mommy who needs to bring in a second income, do it. If your path is to be a single Mommy who has to go to school and work to make ends meet so your kids can be fed, you are my HERO! If you are a stay-at-home Mommy who longs for craft night with the girls or a spa weekend away from the kids, that is YOUR right. If you are a Facebook or Pinterest addict who puts her kids in front of Yo Gabba Gabba to get a moment of inspiration in between changing soiled sheets, go for it! I am not here to convict others about how their time and energy are spent. I am simply stating what God has laid on my heart and what is convicting me.
by Amy | Apr 17, 2013 | Julian
I have been really really bad about blogging lately…on all fronts. I haven’t blogged on my vocal blog; I haven’t blogged on my Mommy Inspirational blog; and I certainly haven’t blogged on this blog. I don’t know why. I have just been really tired…really busy…really preoccupied with too many other things. I’d like to say that I will get back on track soon, but I don’t know that I will.
Anyway…I am here to share some very big news regarding my baby boy, Julian. He turned 23 months old this past weekend, and on Friday, April 12th I decided to give it a go at weaning him once and for all. I have SO loved nursing him for this long. It is a bond that I never had with Tate (since he gave up nursing at 3 months), and it was so sweet. It’s just that…well, it lasted a little too long for me. Truthfully, I think he could have easily kept going for another 2 years without any problem, but I am done. I just can’t do it anymore. He wakes us up at all hours of the night and won’t go back to bed without nursing. Last week, when I was really sick with a cold, he wasn’t feeling well either and needed to nurse around the clock. It was so exhausting and so draining that I decided I had had it. So as soon as I knew he was feeling better again, I made the decision to quit.
A girlfriend of mine had told me how she weaned her youngest by placing bandaids over her nipples and saying that Mommy had a boo boo. I was skeptical that this could work, but I tried it on Friday night and told Julian we could only have milk out of a sippy cup. He wasn’t even the slightest bit agitated by this notion. That gave me motivation to keep going. When he awoke that night, he did cry for the breast, but I reminded him that Mommy had a boo boo and he just rolled over and fell back asleep in our bed. The next day, on Saturday, I bought him a beautiful new sippy cup, which he loved, and played this whole thing up even more. He went to bed without any fussing again on Saturday evening and took to the sippy cup with no issues. He awoke again on Saturday night and was upset that he couldn’t nurse, but he fell back to sleep after a couple minutes of fussing and that was it. Sunday night was a little more challenging. Monday night even more. But today after school was the hardest. Usually when I pick them up from school, they are both really tired and fall asleep in the car on the way home. In the past, I’ve always transferred them easily to their beds/couch with no issues. If Julian ever woke up during transfer, I could always nurse him back to sleep and get him down again. Today, he woke up when I transferred him and I had no tactic up my sleeve to comfort him and get him back down. I tried rocking him. I tried carrying him around. I tried bouncing him. I tried giving him a bottle. He just cried, pawed me and then began screaming at the top of his lungs. It was horrible. I almost caved. But, alas, I held strong and he was fine…eventually. He never went back to sleep again, but he eventually calmed down and had a good afternoon.
Even though he seemed fine and played well, for the most part, I did notice him being more aggressive than usual and saying “Stupid” like he’s been doing lately. When I asked him what was wrong and if he was mad at me, he replied “yeah”. And here’s the biggest kicker…tonight, when I went in his room to rock him (like I do every night), he wouldn’t let me hold him. Instead, he insisted on sitting in the rocking chair on his own and I pushed the rocking chair back and forth until he fell asleep. That made me a little sad. I know things will be fine and he will be fine. I just feel like, tonight, I have lost my baby. This whole rocking and nursing routine…well, that was ours. That was what we did. And now that we don’t do it anymore, because I decided it’s enough, we don’t have that time together anymore. I know we’ll resume and find a new normal. I know he will still come to me and cuddle and maybe it will be even better because he won’t be coming to me to get something but instead to just love on me. Maybe that will happen. But right now, there’s distance. And I hate it. In fact, the temptation to rip off that bandaid is so strong, I have to keep thinking of all the things that made me nuts about continuing to nurse him throughout this past year. Man, motherhood is so hard sometimes, isn’t it?!
What’s crazy about all this is how badly I wanted to do it with Tate and how hard I tried to nurse him up to six months. I thought I’d failed when we barely made it to six months with me pumping and giving him that milk mixed with formula. Then Julian came along and nursing was SO easy. He just knew what to do and he preferred it over everything else. He’d take the bottle, but he wanted the breast. This was so foreign to me. I was so happy to be able to breastfeed him.
Well, (sigh), I’m sad tonight. I’m happy we have gotten over a hump and he didn’t even ask for it tonight. But I’m sad that he didn’t want me to hold and rock him. I hope that part of it doesn’t continue. Even if I don’t breastfeed him, he’s still my little baby. I don’t want him to get older and grow out of being close to me. I just need some space and I need my sleep!!
Dear Julian,
Someday you will know this story, because I will tell you or you might even read this letter. I just want you to know that I love you so much. I have so enjoyed your presence in our lives and what you add to our little family. You are such a ray of sunshine. You are so funny. You are so special to us. I have absolutely loved breastfeeding you and nourishing you with my milk over the past two years. You and I developed quite a close bond in my doing so. I hope that bond never goes away, and I hope you continue to know that closeness and warmth I gave you from the first moment you were born. You are still my baby and will be forever.
Love,
Your Mama
by Amy | Mar 19, 2013 | mama confessions
Wow! It’s been much too long since I’ve last blogged. I have dearly missed it, but for some reason, my heart just hasn’t been into writing and sharing lately. I’m going through a phase of just reading, praying, meditating, keeping to myself and soaking up all the gems others have to offer. Still, somehow, I feel like I need to put my voice out there and let people in on all the things my mind has been reeling about over the past few months.
First of all, I am so happy to say that my dear 4-year-old son is doing remarkably well after all he has been through over the past five months. We are still awaiting some doctor recommendations, and I’m sure we have more follow-ups to come, but we are just basking in the glory of having no seizures since the end of December and trusting our God and Healer for complete healing. The last MRI at the end of January showed that the inflammation is still there in a few different areas on his brain. The doctors are undoubtedly nervous and want to treat him, but for some reason, we are at a major standstill. What we thought was going to be a quick referral to a rheumatologist in Houston has now taken over six weeks with no answers and no referral. At the time, we would have jumped in our car and driven there for this doctor to see him and recommend treatment, but now, six weeks later, we are feeling much differently. At first, we were angry at the lack of communication and urgency these doctors have shown, but now, I feel like it has just been a God thing. I firmly believe that God is just holding everyone off and doing His own healing so that we don’t have to put him through rigorous treatment unnecessarily. Funny how God works in these ways. We have no idea what He is doing, but we know He is up to something! In any case, I boldy proclaim that he is healed and know that so much good will come out of all of this hardship! Thank you, God!
Aside from all of that, our family is doing really well, and I just feel the presence of God in our lives more now than ever. It was so needed too. I can’t describe it, but even though I have known the Lord for many years, I have never quite felt His hand on me like I do now. He guides my ever move, and He is with me every second of every day. He always was. It’s only now that I notice Him.
As I type this, my eyes well up with tears. I’m so humbled by all that God is doing in my life right now. I am so full of joy and gratitude for the precious little lives that He has given me to pray for, kiss and hug on, teach and touch. Never in my life have I known such joy and satisfaction and felt like I was right where I needed to be. However, if you would have talked to me before my son got sick, my testimony would have been much different. I would have told you that I loved my kids, but…
- I would give anything for some time to myself.
- I am so exhausted from all I have to do.
- I’m so drained by the constant picking up of toys, laundry to do, dishes to wash and put away, peacemaking between siblings, dinners to make, etc…
- I just wish I had more help.
- I just wish I could sleep more. And the list goes on…
I am not a saint. I still have those feelings a lot. But now the filter is different. Instead of letting myself wallow in these thoughts, a little timer immediately goes off and says, “Snap out of it! Your time for complaining is UP!” It’s true! I used to let myself sigh outloud — you know…the martyr sigh that tells the world how bad you have it –and get frustrated and let my extreme impatience with my kids come out a lot more than I would ever like to admit. But now, when those little voices creep up as I walk from one end of the house to another picking up toys and wiping crayon marks off my wall, I smile as if to say to myself, “Get over yourself, Amy!” Then I immediately think of all the things I am so grateful for:
- Those beautiful, sweet, soft cheeks I get to kiss every day…there will soon be a day when those cheeks will thin out, have pimples and start to grow hair!
- Hearing the word, “Mommy!” for the 25th time in a 5-minute time span…there will soon be a day they will no longer call me “Mommy”…but instead “Mom” or perhaps nothing at all. Maybe they’ll just say, “Hey…You…Lady who wiped my butt and rocked me to sleep for 3 years straight!”
- The crazy loudness that penetrates the walls of my house…there will soon be a day when that loudness will turn to a very still, eery quietness that longs for their sweet voices to echo down the hallway.
- The lack of time to myself…there will soon be a day when I will have too much time to myself. Although, right now, I can’t even imagine that.
- The clutter of toys and games and unidentifiable objects throughout my entire house…there will soon be a day when I will look around the house and none of that will be here…and I will be sad that it’s not there. Another one that is hard for me to believe at. this. moment.
I could go on and on, but I will leave it at that. You get the picture. It is something we all have to learn and confess on a daily basis.
I was just laughing and talking to my girlfriend the other day about the fact that we wish we could just press the pause button and get some things done and have a moment to just soak it all up and take a breath without them growing in the process and without us missing out on all the moments. She wanted her pause button to last for a year. She thought she could really accomplish a lot and get things done if she had that long. I was thinking more like an entire day, since I haven’t had an entire day to myself in 4 1/2 years! I can only imagine the things I could do! Ha!
Whatever your pause button might look like, we all have the need to stop and reflect on what we have from time to time. For some reason I’ll never know or understand, God didn’t design our lives to have a built-in pause button. For some reason, we are severely sleep-deprived, overwhelmed, bombarded and up to our ears in snot, poop, sour milk and crayons in a very suffocating, sore boobed, no personal space kind of way, and somehow, some way we have to lavish in it and enjoy every second of it because just as quickly as it came about in our lives, it vanishes. So unfair! I’ve always said that it was a cruel, twisted joke that we have to enjoy every quickly passing second of a sleepless newborn, even though nothing about sleep-deprivation connotates the word “enjoy”. It’s the same cruel, twisted joke that we have to enjoy every quickly passing second of a toddler’s tantrums or a preschooler’s strong will. But for some reason, we do. We absolutely do. God designed it that way. So, like anything, we have a choice. Is the boob half empty or is it half full? Do we relish in the mishaps — the spilled milk, the crumbs in the couch, the snot on the wall, the toys we accidentally step on — which happen more often than the clean house? Or do we complain and wish away our kids’ codependent years and then look back and wish we had just enjoyed it more?
I choose to relish in the mishaps and trust the God who gave me these precious souls to mold and shape and raise and pray for.
Today, I am resting on this promise:
2 Corinthians 12:9
9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Strength made perfect in weakness?
Rest?
Sign me up!
by Amy | Nov 14, 2012 | mama confessions, Uncategorized
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by Amy | Nov 14, 2012 | Tate
Dear Tate,
As we wind down on the eve of your 4th birthday, I can’t help but get emotional. This time, just 4 short years ago, I was already checked in at Round Rock Medical Center and told to “get a good night’s rest because tomorrow will be a long day!” by the labor and delivery staff. Little did I know, I was in labor all night. As I constantly got up, the cables I was connected to kept coming off. The nurses were getting irritated at me because they kept losing my stats on the monitor. At 5am the nurse finally checked to see if I was dilated, and I was well on my way at 5 cm. She immediately ordered an epidural and called Thomas at home (since they sent him home to get rest) to come quickly. I slept a little while to recover from the all-nighter I had just pulled and awoke around 10am to start pushing. You were here at 11:19am. And how my life changed forever!
As I recall those moments in the hospital that day that forever changed our lives, I feel so close to that time — as if it just happened yesterday. But then I look at you, and I think of all we’ve been through in these four years, and I know that some amazing and precious time has passed since that day. You are much taller now. You speak complete, clear sentences. You no longer cry. Well, you don’t cry often :). You sleep through the night without any problems. You don’t drink out of a bottle anymore. And the hardest part for me is, you are no longer a baby! You are no longer a toddler even. You are a preschooler! How did that happen? You can dress yourself. You can go to the bathroom alone. You can, for the most part, fix your own drink and feed yourself. And all of these things will continue to get easier and easier for you as you grow older and older.
Tate, I am SO very proud of you. Actually, I don’t even think the word “proud” comes remotely close to the way I feel about you. You are part of me. You are part of your Dad. You are our world. You are so special to us. Words can’t describe the way we feel about you. Before you were here, we knew we would love you. I felt that special bond with you because you were inside of me. We knew that you would be awesome and change our lives forever. But what we didn’t know is how amazing you’d be. We didn’t know how sweet and affectionate you would be. We didn’t know how caring and loving you would be. And we, for sure, didn’t know how cute you would be! 😉
Tate, I love how you call cucumbers “koo-kuh-mumbers” and hamburgers “hannah-burgers”. I love how you just came to me (when you should be in bed) and hugged and kissed me and told me that I’m the “best Mommy in the world.” I love how you get excited about something and want to tell everyone you meet about it. I love how you smell. I love how you get a serious look on your face when I ask you if you need any more to eat or drink and you pucker your lip and say, “No thanks. I’m fine.” I love how you think of others and want to make sure your brother is taken care of or when you want to draw a picture or give something special to your friend. I love how you get excited about giving to others. I love how thoughtful you are and how easy you are to be around (most of the time). And even though you many times drive me nuts with this, I love how you are particular about what you wear and make a big deal out of it every day and always want to wear the most inappropriate clothing for the weather that day. I love how you need to be cleaned off immediately after you get your hands or face dirty. I love how you play with things and keep yourself occupied in your own imaginary world. Man, the list of things could go on and on. You are such a sweety and you are so unique!
Tate, last weekend we went through a very scary time with you. Shortly after I wrote my last post, I was awoken by your Dad holding you in his arms and crying for help. You had called him in your room to get up, and the two of you had gone into the living room to play with a puzzle on the floor. When he turned around to look at you, you suddenly began convulsing and having a major seizure. You couldn’t even utter a cry. You were shaking uncontrollably all over. He immediately came and got me and we called 911. The fire department came and then the paramedics. They looked at you and took your vitals and took you in the ambulance down to Dell Children’s Hospital. We went through countless hours waiting with you in the ER. They admitted you and ran MRIs and spinal taps and EEGs to determine what was wrong and what had caused the seizures. When they got the test results back from the MRI, they found swelling on the left side of your brain. They kept you for 3 more days to try and determine what was going on, but eventually sent us home with no real conclusive answers — only possibilities of what could be wrong. We are scheduled to go back in six weeks for another MRI to try and see if they can see more when the swelling has gone down and attempt to give us a diagnosis.
Tate, my heart is just heavy and so sad over this whole situation. I am trying to keep my faith strong and we are believing in God and his promises for your health and complete recovery. I pray that nothing is wrong when they take the MRI again and that this was all just a random event that will eventually go away and leave you unscathed. I pray that you wouldn’t even remember that it happened other than from us telling you about it someday. I pray that we never have to go through and witness you having another seizure like you had that day. It broke our hearts into a million irreparable pieces. I don’t think I’ll ever get over seeing you like that. It took my whole world and flipped it upside down. It shook us and made us question everything!
On a lighter note, I wanted to share how absolutely incredible you are and were over the past few days. You were brave. You were so strong and so peaceful throughout this whole horrifying, unexplainable event. You were, of course, irritated a couple of times with the IV and all the cables hooked up to you. And by the third day, you wanted your own clothes on and you wanted to go home. But you were a trooper. You were kind to the nurses. You were patient with us. You smiled when I know you didn’t feel like smiling and you made everyone around you feel at ease. You stayed strong and you were resilient. I love that about you as well.
Dear Lord,
Thank you for this precious, sweet boy, Tate, who you have blessed us so richly with. He is such an amazing little guy with such a big heart! He is funny. He is charming. He is as sharp as a whip and so so smart! He is extremely athletic for his age and plays soccer and basketball so well already! He is a good little singer with such a sweet voice. He is an artist who loves to draw and paint and color! He is a big helper who loves to bake and cook and go get things for Mommy. And most importantly, he is ours! We love him so very much Lord. Thank you for blessing our lives with his presence and sweet spirit in our household. We pray that you would protect him and keep him safe from all harm. We pray that you would help him to continue to grow in his love for you. We pray for complete healing and recovery for him Lord. Guide us and guide the doctors to better understand his condition and know how to help him. And mostly, give us peace during this time and put aside all fear and anxiety that we are battling with every second of every day.
In addition, Lord, thank you for all the wonderful people in Tate’s lives who care about him and are praying for him right now. We thank you for our wonderful friends and family who came to our aid during this time. We thank you for friends and neighbors who brought gifts and food to the hospital and at home. We thank you for friends who cared for our dog, Casi and Julian during this time. We thank you for the meals we are enjoying that not only help us out but warm our hearts as well.
Today, we give you our sweet Tate and pray that you would just hold him in your hands, Lord, and bless him.
In Jesus’ name we pray…Amen!
by Amy | Nov 11, 2012 | mama confessions
Well, where do I begin?
Saturday morning at around 4:30am I was awoken and led to my laptop to write about the absolutely perfect day I had had with my two children the day before (READ HERE). I have been trying to get better about writing and recording those amazing, memorable moments more, because days go by and then weeks go by and then months go by and I realize that I can’t remember them like I want to. I, for sure, can’t remember what we may have eaten on any given day, what the kids wore or what specific activities we did, but most importantly, I forget about those very special, precious moments where we break out in laughter over a funny incident over lunch or we play together without a care in the world on the living room floor. Friday was a day I never wanted to forget. It was perfect and special for no reason other than the fact that we were together. There were no errands to run; there were no other people to meet up with; there was no alternate agenda on my day planner. It was just me and my boys…just hanging out. I wanted to have a record of that special day and share the details of it, so that I could put it in my treasure chest of memories from when my kids were little…or perhaps even to recall it when days weren’t so perfect. Little did I know that I was three hours away from one of the most imperfect, utterly terrifying and excruciating days in my entire life!
Only three hours later, at around 7:30am, my sweet, beautiful, little boy, Tate, woke up like any other morning and called out for my husband from his room. My husband went to get him before he woke anyone else up, and they went into the living room to play a puzzle on the floor. My husband noticed he had a runny nose, so he reached over to wipe his it. My son began to jerk his head back and convulse. My husband thought he was joking around and tried to get him to sit still. My son began to tilt his head back and lost all ability to speak. Then he began uttering sounds that made my husband quickly realize that something was seriously wrong. His lips began to smack uncontrollably. His eye lids began to twitch. His body began to shake and stiffen. My husband picked him up and carried him to me to get help. I immediately called 911 and raced through the house to gather our things as if I had been trained from above to know what to do. The paramedics arrived on the scene and by then, my son’s body had begun to relax a bit. He seemed confused and very quiet, but his shaking had stopped. The paramedics decided to go ahead and take him in the ambulance to Dell Children’s Hospital while I followed behind in the car with our younger son.
By the time I arrived at the ER, Tate was in the middle of what they now believe to have been another seizure. This time, the seizure seemed to be isolated on the right side of his body with his right arm jerking and right eye and right side of his mouth twitching. My husband and I were dumbfounded. Throughout all the questioning by doctors and nurses, we were struck by just how healthy and normal our precious boy had been throughout these first four years of his life. He had been sick only a handful of times and by all practical purposes, he was a very healthy, happy little boy with absolutely no reason for us to have ever imagined that he would go through something like this. It was out of the blue and completely unexplainable. Even the medical staff seemed puzzled as they gathered more information about his medical history. He had not recently had immunizations, he had not been sick with a high fever or worse, he had not fallen or done anything to cause trauma to his head that we were aware of. He was just waking up from a good night’s sleep and playing on the floor with his Daddy.
Over the course of four days in the hospital, they ran test after test to try and determine why our little boy suffered from these seizures. On the same day of his series of seizures, he could barely get out an audible word. They ran an EEG to determine his brain function and it came back fairly normal with no reason for them to think that he would have another seizure. The neurologist was quite confident that the MRI would also come back normal, and in my naive mind, I was thinking we’d get to go home within a few hours. Little did I know. They finally got him into an MRI around 5pm that same day, and after hours in the ER just waiting, being by his side and trying to make arrangements for my younger son to be taken care of, Tate was finally admitted to the hospital for an overnight stay. While we waited for the MRI test results to come back, they started him on anticonvulsants (one of the many words I had never used before Saturday) and kept a watchful eye to make sure that he was in stable condition. Communication with Tate was, at best, minimal. He was alert and aware, at some points even smiling, but he was not talking like he normally did.
Once the MRI results came back, the neurologist came to talk to us about the fact that Tate’s MRI showed swelling on the left side of his brain. My head still can’t get around this. I was prepared for them to tell us that he would need to be monitored, but I was not prepared for the MRI to come back irregular or cause anyone concern. Words like “tumor” and “stroke” were being thrown out as my head began to spin. How could this happen? What was going on with our boy?
Because of the swelling on the brain, the neurological team ordered more MRIs to be taken in order to get a better picture and attempt to rule out some serious possibilities. After his initial MRI on Saturday evening, he was then fully sedated again on Sunday for an MRA and spinal tap and then again on Monday for an MRV. After all this, it was finally determined that he did not have a stroke of any kind and he did not have one of the tested viral infections they look for. In order to take every precaution, they had immediately started him on two antibiotics and an antiviral, but they took him off all of that once the spinal tap came back negative.
As I write this, we are back home and back to our normal life. Over a week has passed since this horrible morning when the seizures began. There are still no answers as to what caused the seizures and what, if anything, could be behind the swelling. As of now, we are scheduled to have another MRI in six weeks. By then, I would imagine the swelling will have subsided and they will be able to get a clearer picture of what is going on. That is our hope, at least.
In the midst of this storm, we have had countless people praying for Tate and for us. We have been blessed by hospital visitors, gifts and meals prepared by those who care. I am so incredibly grateful for the love and support we have received. It has helped ease the fear and take our minds off of the situation at hand. Throughout this entire time, we have felt God’s hand on us and on Tate. We know that he is in control and we have relinquished our own control and anxiety over to him again and again.
Since our return home, Tate has been back to his lively, happy self. He has been playing with his toys, running, riding his scooter and laughing. He has been talking a mile a minute and for all practical purposes, he does not even look like he has been through anything. Truthfully, I think Thomas and I have been hit the hardest by this, and today, all I feel is devastation and exhaustion. In the back of our minds, we as mothers always know there is a possibility that something could happen to our children. We even try to prepare ourselves for it without becoming too paranoid or too worried. But when something does happen, it shakes us to the core and leaves a big hole in our hearts. Right now, there’s a hole where my security once was. Right now, there is an overwhelming, crippling fear that wasn’t there before. As strong and faithful as I want to be, I cannot lie and say that this hasn’t taken ahold of me. Regardless of the outcome of the follow-up MRI in six weeks, I will forever be changed by this occurrence. No matter how healthy my child is and how good his follow-up reports may be, I feel like I will forever be frightened about his well-being and perhaps wonder if we will ever have to go through the horror we went through a week ago.
There are no words that can explain this feeling as a parent. From the time a child is formed within your womb, you worry about his/her little body. You breathe a sigh of relief when you leave those OB visits with a good report. You smile with tears in your eyes as you hear a healthy, beating heart. When the child is finally born, you sit beside his bed at night making sure he’s breathing. You hesitate to sleep for fear that you might miss a plea for help. As time goes by, your confidence in your child’s well-being grows. You let go little by little and don’t need to be right beside your child, watching his every move anymore. You slowly began leaving him with friends or family to go out for dinner with your husband. You kiss him goodbye as he goes off to school. You allow him to play in another room or even outside by himself, because you know he’ll be OK. That initial fear you had when he was born his, for the most part, gone. You are confident that he is doing fine on his own — with or without your help.
This is where we were last week. We were confident in our son’s well-being. As I stated before, he had never had any health issues or causes for our concern. He was growing up and doing just fine! Then this happened on Saturday and changed everything. Now, I feel as if we’re back at that place we were in when he was only days old. We are keeping a watchful eye on him and worried about his every move. Our confidence has been shaken, and I honestly don’t know how to get it back.
Dear Lord,
You know our thoughts before we even think them. You know what is on our hearts without our being able to verbalize exactly how we feel. I am filled with grief today even though my son is happy and seemingly healthy. I am so scared by the what-ifs and thrown off guard by this chain of events that has literally flipped our world upside down. The day before this happened, I was relishing in the moment and enjoying just being with my two little boys. Now, just a little over a week later, I am completely thrown off and feel as though I don’t know what hit me. How does one bounce back from such a life-altering event? How does one handle the ever-present threat of something happening to her children?
This past week has taught me that there are no certainties in life. We can think we have healthy children, a stable job, a lasting marriage, good tires on our car, and in just moments, we can find ourselves on an ambulance heading to a children’s hospital, struggling with work, fighting with our spouses and getting a flat tire.
Help me, Lord, to cherish every moment and cast all of my care and fear on you. Help me not to be anxious and worried. Help me to learn from this and live my life to the fullest and glorify you. Help me not to be paralyzed by fear, but to live in you and your hope alone.
Amen
by Amy | Nov 1, 2012 | mama confessions, Uncategorized
It has been quite some time since I’ve posted on our family’s blog. I’m trying to get better about doing that and adding pictures and recording the boys’ milestones. Time is flying by!!
This year marks a lot of firsts for Tate. He went to preschool for his first time and LOVES it! He also started playing in a soccer league for the first time and his last game for the season is tomorrow! He has really enjoyed it. The kids he plays with are all really sweet and Coach Matt is awesome!
This fall was also a lot of fun spending time outdoors, going on playdates with friends and enjoying a little bit cooler weather. Notice I say “a little bit”. In Texas, there is really no difference between summer and autumn. Autumn is just more bearable.
At the end of September, we flew to Colorado to visit the Mathews family. Although it was very brief, we had a great time getting to see all the aunts, uncles and cousins. We also attended Oktoberfest in downtown Denver. The boys had the opportunity to wear their Lederhosen.
October has been quite a busy month with preschool, soccer, Mommy’s teaching and children’s choir, Daddy’s work and our increasing involvement in our church and community. We are enjoying everything we do, but the busy-ness makes the time fly even faster. This past weekend, we went to a nursing home to give the elderly folks some pumpkins and let them see us in our Halloween costumes.
This past week, we’ve just been getting ready for Halloween. Mommy made Halloween sugar cookies in the shape of bats, witches and pumpkins. It seems Mommy is the only one who enjoys the cookies : ) This evening, we went to a Fall Fest at our church where there were bouncy houses, huge slides and food. The kids enjoyed playing and wore themselves out. After we left, we quickly went home to do a little trick-or-treating before heading to bed. They were so tired they could barely walk! But we had fun!
by Amy | Oct 9, 2012 | mama confessions
I am humbled by a message that has been delivered to me over and over, but that I’m only now really understanding as I attempt and many times fail in this juggling act of being a wife, mother of two young boys, a housekeeper, cook, singer and small business owner…and blogger :).
Throughout my life, I’ve learned the concept that anything we pursue of great worth requires incredible tenacity, unrelenting perseverance and a chiseled, unwaivering purpose. I have always known that to be true for Olympic athletes and those, like myself, who have pursued their art to a professional degree, but I am only now realizing it to also be true for my marriage, raising my children and chiefly, maintaining a close walk with Jesus Christ.
In other words, we can’t just go through life expecting things to come easily. Just like eating the right foods and regularly exercising are extremely difficult tasks for most, so is the daily challenge of raising our children with purpose, letting our spouses know we long to be with them and setting aside quality time for our Lord.
I think my biggest challenge is thinking that things should be easy or that they are easy for others. I struggle. I really do. I no longer begin my morning on Monday to find that it’s already Thursday and I haven’t accomplished hardly anything I had set out to do in my week. Sometimes days go by before I get a chance to look through my mail, make a phone call to someone or write a quick email. But I know I’m not alone. We are all struggling with this, aren’t we?
Heavenly Father,
Thank you for allowing me to come to you today with this great burden — the burden of balance. I am humbled by my body’s physical weariness and inability to stick to routines, to stay focused and accomplish the things that are really important to me. I am also humbled by the thought that so many others are struggling with this and beating themselves up (as I often do) because of their lack of time, lack of energy and lack of resources.
Help us, Lord, to persevere like athletes, run the race and fight the fight. When we are weary and weak, pick us up, Lord and give us strength to keep going. Give us rest, Lord, renew our strength and restore our souls.
Amen
This balancing act of motherhood/womanhood is not an easy one. It takes the tenacity, perseverance and purpose of an Olympian to get even half of it right. It is natural to feel torn. It is natural to feel weary. It is natural to feel defeated. Our hearts long to serve You, be the best wives and mothers and sisters and friends. Our heart longs to give more of our time and resources. My heart longs to play with and read to my children and really see them when I look in their little eyes; spend quality time in prayer and devotion and let the Lord transform my heart; spend quality time in uninterrupted conversation with my husband and love on him rather than briefly brushing by him in the hallway as we both set off to take care of the kids or the house.I long to get my singing chops back and get dive into some beautiful repertoire that my voice was made to sing; I long to be a wonderful and inspiring voice teacher, get my little children’s choir singing beautifully and finally get those family photos organized and put in a book.
Today I’m reminded of what Paul said in I Corinthians 15:31-“I protest by your rejoicing which I have in Christ Jesus our Lord, I die daily.” When taken in context of the scriptures that came before and after this verse, Paul is talking about how he is not worthy of God’s grace, how he struggles with the huge responsibility he has of teaching the Word of God and how his flesh must die daily in order to let Christ renew him and be filled with the spirit of God. I also take this as an amazing Christian example of how meticulous and deliberate we need to be about letting our own needs, our own agendas, our own inadequacies die so that He may pick us up and create His will through us.
Not my will, but thine.
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