The Struggle is Real

Last week, I decided I wanted to get really serious about working on this blog. I’ve blogged off and on for years and years since 2011, but I’ve always struggled to be consistent and put out content on a regular basis.

Well, now I am seeing why this struggle is so real and how hard it is to dedicate the time to do something like this consistently. Life just happens. Kids get sick and you have to go pick them up at school. And then, you find out they weren’t really that sick, but probably “just needed to poop.” I kid you not. This happened yesterday. My daughter’s preschool teacher called me and said, “Georgia isn’t playing like she normally does, and she’s complaining about a tummy ache. Maybe you should come get her.” So I did. But once we got home, she just had to poop and her tummy was all better. Next week, I’m sending her to school with a bottle of Tums or a coffee from Starbucks.

Committing to something and doing it regularly is a challenge for anyone. But committing to something and doing it regularly as a parent of young children feels like the tallest of orders. Life with kids is just so unpredictable. And let’s not even discuss how tired we are!

The struggle is real.

As I sit here, on this Friday morning at 6:35am, I’m realizing, once again, how this blog is going to take some Herculean effort on my part to see through. And I love that challenge. But I also know it’s going to take more than me waking up a mere 40 minutes before the kids do. It’s going to take me waking up at least 2 hours before they do and clocking in those hours daily in order for me to produce something that’s worthwhile for my readers.

So, here’s my attempt at something today. I promise to continue and make this a top priority. I promise to not only do that, but to fight for this blog and make it a reality.

xoxo,

Amy

No Roots

Yes, my Friends.  This, right here, is my first official blog post for my new little site, and I am simply ecstatic about what’s to come!  I have held off on actually writing here, because I wasn’t finished with the site’s set up and I don’t even have a logo yet, but I know, by just doing it, all of these things will come!  The point is to just start, right?  And then the ideas and everything else will follow.  That’s usually how it works for me.  I rarely have a great idea unless the ball is already rolling.  So this is me…rolling that ball.  And here it is, my first blog post in it’s raw, unpolished state.

So, here I am.  Strong coffee with frothed creamer in hand.  I set my alarm and woke up at 4:30am to be here and begin this journey, because I knew it would be a slow start and a rocky beginning.  It’s never smooth sailin’ and fun to start anything new, is it?  There’s always awkwardness and quite a bit of stumbling that goes along with opening up your computer and writing those first few words.  And, of course, at 4:30am, nothing really seems to flow very well.

So, why 4:30am?  Most people are somewhat horrified by this hour.  What’s the magic behind this time, you ask?  Well, you see…I have always been a morning person, but I’ve never been a very disciplined morning person.  I used to wake up around this time, and just lie there in bed wondering why I couldn’t sleep.  Sometimes, I’d just lie there.  Other times, I might get up and scroll through Facebook or Instagram until I got up and around.  But most of the time, I was completely unproductive…until I got a job, that is.  This job required me to get out of bed at 3:30am so I could be ready and out the door by 4:40am and at work by 5am.  As grueling as it sounds, that routine literally transformed my morning routine.  Sure, I cried all the way to work my first 2-3 weeks at that job.  But after the initial shock and horror of getting up wore off, I was fine.  And the truth is, I actually enjoyed it and felt a little superior to already be up and at ’em while the rest of the world was still hitting their snooze buttons.  And so…even after leaving that job, I still love waking up early.  It gives me that slight edge and helps me set the tone for my day before all the distractions and noise start to creep in.  Glad we cleared that up!  🙂

This past week was our Spring Break.  We started off the week with sickness that made rounds to everyone in our family except for me and my daughter, but we ended up having one of the best weeks of our family’s life.  It was simply divine.  We watched movies.  We played outside.  We went camping for a night at Lake Whitney State Park.  We went to the Silos in Waco on our way back home.  We attended a worship service at The Church on South Congress on Sunday morning and had amazing ice cream at a food trailer called Manoli’s.  When we got back home, we went down and introduced ourselves to our new neighbors — a young couple who were painting their kitchen cabinets in their garage.  We instantly exchanged phone numbers and ended up texting back and forth all evening.  If anything, this week taught me that 1.  Staying home is great, but…  2.  Getting out of the house is amazing.  3.  My family can adjust to anything and have fun.  4.  Being home too much means too much technology.  5.  Exploring and being out and about is for sure what makes us most happy.  But we need a budget for that!  ha.

Seriously, though…I am a homebody by nature.  My tendency is to avoid leaving the house at all costs.  There’s always just too much to do at home.  Too many things to be cleaned, organized, repaired, cleaned, folded, put away, prepared.  I never seem to actually feel the FREEDOM to leave my home.  Does this resonate with anyone out there?  We feel like we can’t go anywhere until all is done and we are free and clear in our minds?  But the problem I’ve learned is that we’re never fully free and clear.  We never feel like all is done at home.  There will always be laundry piled up.  There will always be an uninspiring pile of dishes in the sink.  There will always be messes lying around.  And sometimes ya just have to leave it all and get out of the house for a few hours.  That was me today.

And in our family, here’s what happens when we pile into our dirty, old, but very reliable 2004 Toyota Sienna:  The weight of the world immediately lifts off of us.  Our task lists melt away.  Our technology stays at home.  We start talking.  We start laughing.  We start singing.  Our moods lighten.  We are mesmerized by adventure and exploration.  And we have such a great time together.  And here’s the thing:  We’re ALL craving it.  We need it like a plant needs water.  Adventure is in our blood.

My husband and I shouldn’t be surprised by this.  After all, we have always loved to explore and try new things.  That’s what drew us together in the first place.  Our very first date was going to a brunch place in Vienna called “High Tea”.  In order to go there, and have a beautiful table to brunch on with comfy high back chairs to sit in, you had to reserve the spot weeks in advance.  So that’s what Thomas did.  I had never heard about it before, but true to fashion, my then “new friend” now husband had read about it and wanted to check it out.  He is still the same now, by the way.  Always looking for new places to “go check out.”  That’ what I adored about him then and it’s what I adore about him now.  He always wants to try new things and do new things.  It’s in his blood.

Thomas, my husband, is from Vienna, Austria.  But he also spent the first 10 years of his life in Stuttgart, Germany.  His Mom and Aunt, twin sisters who were given up for adoption as young babies and adopted by a sweet couple in Thallern, are from a region known as Niederoesterreich (Lower Austria) along the Danube where they have no shortage of vineyards and fruit trees.  Thomas’s father is from the German-speaking part of Czechoslovakia and he fled with his mother and grandmother after the war to Austria.  Thomas was the only child to parents who knew no real place called “home”.  And like his parents, Thomas never really felt at home where he lived.  When he was in Germany, he was considered to be the Austrian, and when he and his family moved back to Austria, he spoke and acted like a German.

I, on the other hand, am from Lee’s Summit, Missouri just on the outskirts of Kansas City.  I grew up there all my life, but never really felt like it was my home home.  Does that make sense?  My parents would laugh and say that I was adopted or switched at birth, because I always longed for something different and I never really fit in with our family or with the people we knew.  I always longed for close friendships, but they always seemed out of reach for me.  I always longed for people to connect with, but my best attempts at connecting felt contrived and forced.  That’s when I realized I needed an outlet.  My outlet was playing the piano and singing.  Both of my parents grew up just miles away from our family home and their parents had also grown up close by.  Never in my life did I know about foreign lands or have the desire to explore them.  I just knew I loved music.  And music led me to meet new people, try new things, go to college, travel the world and end up in Vienna, Austria.

So, why then…why am I tied to a house in Austin, TX with an endless supply of tasks that keep me weighed down when there is a world out there that we want to see and explore?  Why are we trying to “keep up with the Jones’s” by constantly taking care of a house that we do love, but one that also keeps us from really living the life we want to live?

I’m actually really trying to navigate this in my life.  My goal this year, in 2018, is to find a way for us to live simply at home so that we can be more mobile and do more.  I don’t want to have a million things I need to do at home.  I want to spend time with my family exploring the world around us.  I want to go places, meet people, eat different foods, have experiences that enrich our lives.  I don’t necessarily want to be tied to a home with a huge yard and tons of responsibilities.  Part of me thinks we need this and the kids need the stability of a home and a community.  And I agree that all of that is really important, too.  But the other part of me just wants to explore the world with my family and wake up in a new place from time to time.  But where’s the happy medium?  How do we find this balance we so desperately long for in our lives?  No wonder the song, “No Roots” is a huge hit in our household.  We really don’t feel anchored to anyone or anything except for the Lord.  In essence, we have that gypsy spirit that feels bogged down when we get too committed or feel like we have been somewhere for too long.

So, that, my friends, is where I am this morning.  Thinking outloud about how to navigate this world and raise our children responsibly but still show them what the world has to offer.

As I type this, there are news stories of bombs being left in packages on people’s doorsteps all over Austin.  Nowhere is safe.  In the news, you hear of school shootings in schools where you’d never suspect a demented teen was plotting against his classmates.  Nowhere is safe.  So, why then, are we trying to live safe lives in our own little safe communities and not really living and going and doing things we’ve always wanted to do?  I’m done playing safe.  I’m done not living out in the world because there are dangerous people.  I’m ready for something new. Something fresh.  Something good.  Something beyond my imagination.

No roots, Baby…let’s do this!

 

 

Divine Affirmation

Every time a moment like this happens, I think to myself, “I need to write this down.”  But then, shortly thereafter, the moment passes and the gumption to record its effect quickly fades.

So, here’s the deal in a nutshell.  I’ve been feeling low.  Like wayyyy low.  And I want to say that I prayed about it and God quickly rescued me out of that low and helped me feel better, but something even sweeter happened.  I prayed that God would show me what he wanted me to do and lift me up.

Today I got a call from a woman who is my mentor mom in MOPS.  I had hesitated to call her and talk to her about how I was feeling because for me, it’s easier to hole up and deal with things alone.  the problem with that method is that I end up feeling more alone and sometimes more conspired against in the process.  She, in her own sweet way, told me specifically how my life impacted the group.  She told me about my bright light and my gifts that are integral and so necessary for the group to thrive and function.

Not even an hour later, I just happened to get a notification on my phone that someone had written me a private message through our church’s social network, “The City”.  The message was from a person in our RLG at church who I barely know.  She told me she really enjoyed hearing my point of view and how “passionate and articulate” I am.  She said she wants to get to know me better and talk, because she enjoyed hearing me talk so much.

Hearing both of these things within an hour was one thing, but hearing them after I’ve undergone so much pain and sadness throughout the past few months was like an incredible healing salve that immediate soothed and healed the pain.  It’s as if I never had any pain to begin with.  I’m amazed by these very specific affirmations about who I am coming from two people within a short time span.  It’s not just a self-esteem booster either.  That would not have the healing powers that these words had.  These words were specific.  They affirmed what I could only hope I am putting out there and made me realize how unique and individual we all are and how unique and individual our gifts and abilities are.  If I had not heard those words today, I would probably still be lingering a bit in my pit of despair and thinking about how I don’t belong.  Instead, however, I have a new spring in my step today.  I’m confident.  I’m breathing.  I’m living.  I’m loving.

These women may never know the impact they had on my spirit today.  I needed their words more than they could ever imagine.  That said, it makes me even more conscientious about all the people who need my specific words of affirmations in their lives.

Almost Lost Him

OK, I’ve been really bad about blogging…on here…on my Mommy Blog…and everywhere else.  I want to get better.  I feel like I’m missing precious opportunities doing other meaningless things, so I’ve just GOT to get it together.

This morning (2:10am) I want to make it brief because I’m dog tired.  So tired I can’t even think straight.  But, I need to write this, and I need to give it to God.

Today we almost lost Tate…and when I say “almost lost” I am not casually saying I almost lost him in Walmart.  We almost lost him forever.  Oh to even WRITE those words sends chills down my spine and waters up my eyes.  We were at a friend’s neighborhood pool.  We had just arrived and I had already slathered sunscreen on both boys.  We had talked in the car about how both boys were going to IMMEDIATELY put on their water wings before we went into the pool.  We got there and I put everything on Julian while Tate ran off.  At her awesome pool, there is an area that is JUST a splash pad, so he was over there checking that out.  Then they have an area that is just a little baby pool.  He went over there.  Then one of the big pools is a zero entry pool that only goes to 4′ (or so I thought), so I wasn’t too worried since he’s a little over 4′, but I still wanted him to get those water wings on.  He didn’t listen.  I tried to relax a bit because he has been improving as a really good little swimmer this summer (despite my ability to get them in formal swimming lessons) and he’s been really confident.  There was hardly anyone at the pool either, so I knew where he was at all times.

My girlfriend and I sat down at a little table so she could finish her lunch and were catching up.  It had been ages since we last saw each other!  I was telling her how much easier it’s been this summer taking the boys to the pool and how much more relaxed I had become because they were both such good swimmers and then I turned around and saw him out in the distance.  He had crept into the deeper part of the pool (4’4″) without my noticing, and he couldn’t keep his head above water.  FEAR!  PANIC!  RUN!  I hadn’t even had the chance to take off my cover-up yet, so I ran out into the water and threw it off (into the water) and swam out to get him.  Fortunately, I didn’t have to go too far, but he had already been bobbing and unable to breathe for much longer than he can normally hold his breath.  I pulled him up into my arms and patted him on the back several times really hard.  He was struggling to get that first breath again and gasping for air.  I patted him a few more times and he eventually gasped and took that first breath and burped and coughed.  Oh Lord, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for saving his little life!!  I carried him back to the table where we were sitting and he coughed a few more times and as I held him closely, I could feel his little heart beating outside of his chest.  Mine was too.

Oh Dear God, there are no words.  I know this will probably not be the last time I come face-to-face with a close encounter that turns our world upside down.  I just hope and pray I don’t ever have to experience something that horrific again.  I would die if something happened to my kids.  I would never forgive myself.  We’ve already had a rough year dealing with all of his medical issues and feeling like we’re swimming upstream trying to solve that mystery.  That turned our world upside down and inside out back in November 2012.  But to actually lose one of our children to an unnecessary accident?  Nope.  I couldn’t live through that.  I won’t.

So this “little” ordeal hopefully taught us all a lesson or two.  It taught me that I can’t ever ever ever RELAX again or assume he knows what he’s doing when he refuses to do what I ask him to do and take all safety precautions.  It hopefully taught him to listen to me and have a little fear where water is concerned.  I don’t want him to fear water, but I want him to not have false confidence that he’ll be OK in the water without his gear or knowing how to swim first.  That reminds me — I’ve gotta call that swim instructor and get them set up!!!

Already in just a few short years, I’m learning more and more that parenting is such hard work.  I’m blessed that we have had second chances in situations like today.  Some people don’t get a second chance or a do-over.  Today could have changed our lives forever.  I shutter to think that I could have lost our sweet, precious little Tate.  He and Julian are everything to us.  I also realize how quickly and easily we go from a life-threatening situation like this that stops our world in its tracks and we move past it and forget about it within a day or two.  Life goes on as usual.  That is such an odd feature in the human brain.  But I don’t want to ever forget this.  I want to take this life lesson, this opportunity, this near-death experience to take a step back and reevaluate what is important.  I want to provide every measure for my kids to learn safety and be informed and prepared for as much as they possibly can.  And I want to treasure all of these moments with them.  They are so precious.  They are so few.

Not only that, but these little ones depend solely on us for their survival.  What a huge responsibility we have as parents.  It is my responsibility to teach them how to listen to me.  They can’t go around thinking that there won’t be severe consequences for not actively listening and following directions.  This has been such a challenging stage with Tate especially in this regard.  He does not listen to us nearly as often as he should.  Sometimes we get really angry and make him listen.  Other times we let it go because we feel like we are harping and ranting and nagging.  And let’s face it, sometimes it’s just too damn hard to make your kids do something against their will.  Sometimes it’s just easier to say, “Oh well…” and second-guess ourselves and think that what we are asking them to do is not that important anyway.  NEWSFLASH:  When they are this age, EVERYTHING we ask them to do is important because it’s teaching them that very very basic, fundamental skill of listening and obeying us.  They have to learn it.  It’s imperative that they learn it.  If we don’t take ourselves seriously, they won’t take us seriously.

So yeah…I want this to stick.  I want this to enforce change in our household starting…now.

Thank you, Dear Lord, for sparing my precious son’s life today.  He is currently in his bed asleep, and he is breathing, and I’m so grateful for his breath.  I’m so grateful he was smart enough to bob up and down and try to swim until I got there.  I’m so hopeful that this taught him a valuable lesson.  But I’m even more hopeful that this taught me a valuable lesson.  What I say, ask, require of my children is important.  But it’s only important if I make it important.  I can’t let up.  I can’t let go.  I can’t give them wiggle room to disobey me or not listen to what I’m saying.  They have to realize how important it is to listen and obey.  It could save their lives.  Lord, thank you for giving us a second chance today. Thank you for causing me to see some things that I need to change.  Thank you for these precious, little lives you’ve trusted me with.  Armor us as parents and help us to be strong and alert and not weary so that we can continue and press on toward this challenge of taking care of our children.

In Jesus’ Name I Pray…Amen.

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