But I need to. I know I need to. I know it will be good for me, and could be good for others. I've been avoiding it for months, for lots of reasons. I'm afraid of what people will think; it's like inviting feedback from random people when you write a blog, and feedback can be scary. I'm not sure I'll get it all out, or say it all right, say it the way I want to. Most of all, I know I still have days when I struggle with it, and it's so much harder to write about current struggles than things you've totally gotten over. I mean, who wants to share with the world your most personal struggles? Not many people that I know of, and I would include myself in that list.
But, I do feel it's important. I know when I was in the thick of postpartum depression, I desperately wanted someone, anyone to understand how I felt; what I was going through. It's not something people just bring up in conversation: "Hey, I'm Alisha. I have a 4 month old and am seeing a counselor for postpartum depression. How are you? Want to get coffee?" I found some good resources and groups online that made me feel not quite so alone, but it's still not quite the same as 'real' people, you know? So, my prayer is that in writing this, it's not a foreboding or discouraging thing, but an encouragement to someone who may need to read about real life, and that it's OK to struggle, and there are people who get it. (re: 2 Corinthians 1:3-7)
And that is a good starting point for talking about this. The alone feeling. You are completely convinced that no one understands how you're feeling, and if they did, would think you were crazy. Logically, even at the time, I thought that sounded so self-centered/woe-is-me, but still, it seemed like reality. And if I were to get up the nerve to talk about it, to share what I was truly thinking and feeling, what in the world would people think of me? Things like I wanted to just run away some days, or that I would actually get angry at my baby, or that I woke up every morning with a feeling of fear, dread and anxiety - my shoulders would immediately tense before my feet even hit the floor. I was afraid that most moms would look at me like I was some kind of horrible person that needed to have my child taken away.
It started with that, that totally helpless, alone feeling. Then, the negative thoughts came in. 'Why is this so hard?' 'I seem to be having a harder time adjusting than most moms I know.' 'I don't feel like I'm enjoying this.' 'I must be doing something wrong.' 'Every time I leave him with someone they tell me how great he was. He's not great at home. Or maybe it's just me.' And on, and on, and on. It's cyclical. The more you hear these negative thoughts, the more you believe them, the more they seem like truth, and the more alone you feel, so you just shut others out and stay in your head with these thoughts. And it spirals, and you're all of a sudden to the point where you're so overwhelmed you don't know how to get out.
Things like just taking a shower, or going to Target, or making dinner or cleaning seem so overwhelming that you don't know where to start, so you just don't do them. Or, if you're incredibly blessed, your husband makes you do things like take a shower and holds the crying baby for a few minutes, and for a few minutes, you start to feel better...until you start thinking again. 'Why can't I do this?' 'Most moms don't have a lot of help from their husbands and they figure it out. Why can't I?' 'I should be able to do this.'
Shoulds. That's where it really was/is for me. I remember very vividly the day I called the counseling office. It was one of my 2 days/week at home...one of the 2 days/week I dreaded, if we're being honest. At work, I knew what to do, could get things done and was comfortable. At home, I was anything but. So, that Thursday, as I literally sat in our living room sobbing my eyes out at nothing in particular but everything all at once, I realized I needed help. I texted Jim and told him and he simply said 'OK.' That's really all he needed to say; it was enough to tell me I had his support.
Gosh, I was so nervous the first day I went to the counselor. I tried to act all cool and friendly and professional. At work, I have to market quite frequently, so I can do a good professional face when I need to. But it didn't last long. He asked me to tell him what I was feeling, specifically, about me, about motherhood, toward Graham. That last one got me. When I verbally said that sometimes, he annoyed me, or I was mad at him - a small, helpless baby - I just lost it. And you know what my counselor did? He handed me a Kleenex, said it was OK, and before I left, prayed for me. And I knew that, at that moment, God had definitely led me to the right person.
Without going into all the details of my counseling sessions, basically, I had to learn to re-train my thoughts. I would write down a thought I had, for example: "Everyone seems to handle motherhood better than me." Then, I would think of a few things that would negate that statement: 'Everyone' is overgeneralizing.' 'I only see parts of other people's lives; I don't know what they're thinking/feeling.' 'This is a huge life change, and huge life changes take time to get used to.' I would then go one further, and combat it with its exact opposite, with things that were undoubtedly true: 'God ordained me to be his mother.' 'I know his quirks, his needs, his cues better than anyone.' 'No one could be a better mother to Graham than I am; God sovereignly chose him to be part of our family, and not anyone else's'. I think you get the picture.
It was a long road, one that I'm still on, really. This week? This week's been rough. I'm not entirely sure why; hormones maybe. Jim's been working later a lot. Graham has had some reflux issues. But that tenseness, that anxiety in the mornings, that irritability, that sense of being so overwhelmed I'm not sure where to start...it's been there, much more often than I would like to admit. But, God does give enough grace, and daily I am sustained.
I can say I truly love being a mother now. I still find it incredibly hard, and you know what? I probably always will. But in that, I've been stretched, I've grown more than I ever thought I could grow, and it's making me into a better person. Sometimes I just go in and look at my little guy and swell with joy, or just rock him and cry, because I'm so thankful. So thankful for where we are, and where we've come from. This has been the single hardest thing I've ever gone through in my life, but also one of the best. It has made me less reliant on myself, more open with others, and more willing to understand. It has strengthened our marriage. It's helped me to truly understand, just a little, the depth of the love and mercy of God, and how much I am truly dependent on Him. And, I think, it's created an even deeper bond with Graham than I would have had. Once you've gone through hell and back with someone, you grow this sort of connection that binds you together on a level that you really can't even put into words, and that is a very precious thing.
It's done. It's not perfect; there's more I could have said, maybe some I could have left out, and my English teacher friends probably wouldn't appreciate this if it was in a paper, for the lack of tense agreement. But I'm glad I wrote it. I may piggy-back on this later and delve into why I think I had postpartum, and what I may do differently if, Lord willing, there is a next time. For now, I'm going to post this, then go to bed - but not before stopping in to just watch that precious little boy all curled up fast asleep, because moments like that are too good to pass up.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Birthday Week: First Year Top 10, Part 2
And...we're back! 2 days in a row is quite the accomplishment, so I think I'll just end here, close the computer, and go to bed.
Kidding. Kind of, except I really am having trouble of thinking of five more specific things people told me about the first year of parenting. I don't know why exactly, but I think they all kind of run together. Nevertheless, I'm going to keep going. It's time for another installment of "First Year Top 10: Myth or Fact". (In my mind, I hear that being said in the guy's voice from Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me on NPR)
6. "You will become more 'you' than you ever were before". Fact. This one is probably the most true, yet most difficult to grasp. I have struggled the most this past year in finding me again. In fact, my very first post on this blog was about identity, and I think that is a constant learning and growing process. It's funny, I have always been a confident person and known, for the most part, who I am and what I want out of life. Well, if you ever want your world rocked just have a baby; if you want it rocked even more, have a baby who has some serious health issues and well, who are you again? Because you'll start to wonder. But I know one thing: as I grow in this mothering journey, I'm discovering parts of myself I didn't know were there. Sometimes good, sometimes not, but have a much deeper understanding of myself and of others, and never was able to realize before that that was even missing.
7. "The first three months are hard, but after that, it all starts to click". Myth-ish. I think this is a true statement for a lot of babies, but for us, I think a lot of this not being true was attributed to his reflux. What was true came from a dear friend who has gone through a very similar reflux experience: after 6 months, it gets better. I doubted that for, oh...about 6 months. Then one day, I realized, she was right! Something with babies with severe reflux...once they can sit up independently, life becomes more happy for everyone involved. So, 6 months was our marker; not that there weren't some wonderfully memorable times before then, but there were a lot of hard days too (and by a lot, I mean the majority) and after 6 months, those hard days became fewer.
8. "Don't compare. Your family is your family, and you do what works for you". Fact. I laugh when I write this, because...oh, the irony. Daily I still struggle with this! Oh, she's spending more quality time with her kids, or doing more home projects, or cooking great meals, or..or.or..or what? As much as I struggle with this, I am so thankful for its truth. God gave Graham to us to raise, in the home we live in, with the lives we live, and that is going to look different than anyone else, and that's OK. So hard, but so very, very true.
9. "You won't be wearing those kinds of clothes much anymore". Fact. This is in reference to things like wool, cashmere, silk...things that I had a lot of in my wardrobe, thanks to a lovely little thing called the J. Crew outlet. However, once your cashmere sweater gets spit up on a couple of times, and you realize just how hard that is to get out of said cashmere sweater, you start to think...hmm. Maybe, just maybe, this should be reserved for non-baby things. I remember when Graham was only a couple of months old going shopping because, as I told Jim, "I just need cute around-the-house things to wear". Things that are easy to wash, but also don't make you feel like you're that tired looking housewife that I think every mom dreads. I'm thankful I do get to wear my 'nicer' things still to work functions and date nights...and it kind of makes those pieces more special when I do wear them!
10. "The days are long, but the years are short". Fact. Times a billion. Oh, especially in those first days, there were times when I was just counting down until daddy came home. Or days like today, when little man skips his morning nap, so takes a weirdly-timed afternoon nap and wants to be in bed at 5:30 when it's daylight savings time. Not happening...but let me tell you, that hour and a half between 5:30 and 7 was looong. Like, I cracked open a beer while making dinner long. On days like that, it's easy to think that they're never going to be independent, never going to eat by themselves or entertain themselves for longer than 5.2 seconds. But then. Then, I start to get ready for his party and look through pictures of the last year. Of how little he was, and how he couldn't even sit, or swallow almost-liquid baby food the first time he tried it, or how his tiger 'lovey' was the same length as him. And now, now he is standing, taking steps, saying words (he says "I did it!" almost every time he flips off a light switch. Hysterical), discovering, learning, eating mostly finger foods and I just want to say "Stop! Just stop for a little bit!" Because this year has gone quickly. The really really hard days of those first months seem like a lifetime ago, but I just can't believe he's a year old already (almost. He's not yet. Let's make that clear.)
Woo! I did it. Top 10. There were so many others, and maybe this list is a bit lame, but that's OK. It got me blogging again, and we're going for a 3-peat tomorrow night. See you then! (or, if you really hate this, then maybe not. But that's OK too. Because I'm secure in my identity as a mom. Sometimes.)
Kidding. Kind of, except I really am having trouble of thinking of five more specific things people told me about the first year of parenting. I don't know why exactly, but I think they all kind of run together. Nevertheless, I'm going to keep going. It's time for another installment of "First Year Top 10: Myth or Fact". (In my mind, I hear that being said in the guy's voice from Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me on NPR)
6. "You will become more 'you' than you ever were before". Fact. This one is probably the most true, yet most difficult to grasp. I have struggled the most this past year in finding me again. In fact, my very first post on this blog was about identity, and I think that is a constant learning and growing process. It's funny, I have always been a confident person and known, for the most part, who I am and what I want out of life. Well, if you ever want your world rocked just have a baby; if you want it rocked even more, have a baby who has some serious health issues and well, who are you again? Because you'll start to wonder. But I know one thing: as I grow in this mothering journey, I'm discovering parts of myself I didn't know were there. Sometimes good, sometimes not, but have a much deeper understanding of myself and of others, and never was able to realize before that that was even missing.
7. "The first three months are hard, but after that, it all starts to click". Myth-ish. I think this is a true statement for a lot of babies, but for us, I think a lot of this not being true was attributed to his reflux. What was true came from a dear friend who has gone through a very similar reflux experience: after 6 months, it gets better. I doubted that for, oh...about 6 months. Then one day, I realized, she was right! Something with babies with severe reflux...once they can sit up independently, life becomes more happy for everyone involved. So, 6 months was our marker; not that there weren't some wonderfully memorable times before then, but there were a lot of hard days too (and by a lot, I mean the majority) and after 6 months, those hard days became fewer.
8. "Don't compare. Your family is your family, and you do what works for you". Fact. I laugh when I write this, because...oh, the irony. Daily I still struggle with this! Oh, she's spending more quality time with her kids, or doing more home projects, or cooking great meals, or..or.or..or what? As much as I struggle with this, I am so thankful for its truth. God gave Graham to us to raise, in the home we live in, with the lives we live, and that is going to look different than anyone else, and that's OK. So hard, but so very, very true.
9. "You won't be wearing those kinds of clothes much anymore". Fact. This is in reference to things like wool, cashmere, silk...things that I had a lot of in my wardrobe, thanks to a lovely little thing called the J. Crew outlet. However, once your cashmere sweater gets spit up on a couple of times, and you realize just how hard that is to get out of said cashmere sweater, you start to think...hmm. Maybe, just maybe, this should be reserved for non-baby things. I remember when Graham was only a couple of months old going shopping because, as I told Jim, "I just need cute around-the-house things to wear". Things that are easy to wash, but also don't make you feel like you're that tired looking housewife that I think every mom dreads. I'm thankful I do get to wear my 'nicer' things still to work functions and date nights...and it kind of makes those pieces more special when I do wear them!
10. "The days are long, but the years are short". Fact. Times a billion. Oh, especially in those first days, there were times when I was just counting down until daddy came home. Or days like today, when little man skips his morning nap, so takes a weirdly-timed afternoon nap and wants to be in bed at 5:30 when it's daylight savings time. Not happening...but let me tell you, that hour and a half between 5:30 and 7 was looong. Like, I cracked open a beer while making dinner long. On days like that, it's easy to think that they're never going to be independent, never going to eat by themselves or entertain themselves for longer than 5.2 seconds. But then. Then, I start to get ready for his party and look through pictures of the last year. Of how little he was, and how he couldn't even sit, or swallow almost-liquid baby food the first time he tried it, or how his tiger 'lovey' was the same length as him. And now, now he is standing, taking steps, saying words (he says "I did it!" almost every time he flips off a light switch. Hysterical), discovering, learning, eating mostly finger foods and I just want to say "Stop! Just stop for a little bit!" Because this year has gone quickly. The really really hard days of those first months seem like a lifetime ago, but I just can't believe he's a year old already (almost. He's not yet. Let's make that clear.)
Woo! I did it. Top 10. There were so many others, and maybe this list is a bit lame, but that's OK. It got me blogging again, and we're going for a 3-peat tomorrow night. See you then! (or, if you really hate this, then maybe not. But that's OK too. Because I'm secure in my identity as a mom. Sometimes.)
Friday, November 2, 2012
Birthday Week: First Year Top 10, Part 1
Last year, today was one day past my due date and I was anxiously awaiting to have a baby at any point in time. This year, said baby is fast asleep in his room and has just started taking his first steps. It's hard to fathom. The past year has been one of growth, of joy, of trials, of pain, of laughter, of tears, of more love than I have ever known and learning more about myself than I thought was humanly possible. I've posted periodically throughout the year, but have never really put down everything I've wanted to say, all that I wanted to document, all I wanted to remember. Because of that, I've decided to post every night through Graham's birthday next week. I'm not sure exactly what I'm going to post each night, but I have some ideas. I have been meaning to post all night tonight to get started, but just couldn't get going, and now it's 10:30. Honestly, I think it's because I know if I do, it means that Graham is actually turning 1, and that he is no longer really a 'baby' baby, and now I'm going to cry, excuse me...
OK. Pulling it together. I have a feeling some of this will be some seriously deep stuff, but tonight, because it's late and because my husband is camping and I don't have someone to cry to if I wanted, we're going to keep it a bit lighter, thus my 'First Year Top 10: Myth or Fact'. I should probably make this into a TV game show. To play, I'm going to write down something I was told about the first year of parenthood. Then, I'm going to say if it was a myth or a fact. Mind blowing, I know. Note: this is in our case...I'm sure it can vary greatly for everyone. Nevertheless, let's get started shall we?
1. "You'll forget the pain of childbirth." Myth. Did I forget that? NO. Do I ever think I'll forget it? Nope. In fact, if I think about it too much, I get a little freaked out about giving birth again someday. I had a relatively quick labor, but very "intense" (nice word for: hurt.like.a.mother. No pun intended), so to think I'll forget that pain isn't really reasonable. I am able to distance myself from it, and also know now that when it was done, it was really done, and that I can do it. I think that may be what people mean by 'forget the pain'. Or if they really do forget the pain, well, I'm jealous.
2. "Just enjoy every moment. They go by so quickly and you'll miss them." Fact-mostly. I almost can't believe I'm saying that, because for a long time, I did not think that. When you have a baby screaming in pain for 4 hours straight every night for 2 months, your first thought is not "I'm going to miss this". Your first thought is "I miss my old life." And even now, I don't miss the screaming, for obvious reasons. But what I do miss is how little he was, and how even when he was screaming, he could fall asleep in my arms, or how he would just lay there and look at me. Because now, he's a 24 lb. squirming almost-toddler, and he's so much fun, but cuddle times are hard to come by some days. So I get it now. With experience comes wisdom, isn't that how the saying goes?
3. "You're in survival mode for the first few months, and you'll get through." Big.fat.fact. You do not feel like you'll get through some days. The alarm on my phone that woke me up every two hours to feed him? I hate that thing. Correction: I despise it. I heard someone's phone with that music as their ringer the other day and it was like instant anxiety/panic/dread. But we got through, and even looking on those days I can fondly remember (most) of them. I laughed the other morning because I complain sometimes when he's up at 6 am after sleeping all night...how in the world did I get through months of waking up every few hours, and staying up for an hour to feed/change/burp/repeat? Lots of episodes of Law and Order, reruns of America's Next Top Model and the grace of God. That's how.
4. "Breast is best - it will be hard, but do what you have to do to make it work." Myth-for us. Breastfeeding was sweet at times, and I'm glad we did it for a while, and want to try again with any future children. But, as I realized through a lot of pain and tears, it just wasn't to be. I think God used that to really show me how much I'm not in control. Between reflux, protein allergies, post-partum and lots of other things, I'm surprised we made it as long as we did (almost 5 months). I remember the first time we took Graham to the chiropractor after switching him to his lovely, God-sent but incredibly overpriced formula, our chiropractor couldn't believe he was the same baby! He kept going on and on about it, because it was the first time in 4 months he'd seen him smiling and not screaming...that's when I knew we were on to something.
5. "The hardest thing is just getting out the door." FACT. Graham is almost one, and still, every day I have to plan in my head how we're going to arrange everything and everyone to get out the door on time; it doesn't matter if 'on time' means 8 am or 4 pm...it's an art form. Even on the days when everything is perfectly in order - things for the sitter, clothes picked out for all of us, showered the night before...inevitably, 99.9% of the time we're still rushing at the end. Some days, it's because there has been a random blessing from heaven and Graham slept in, so we decide 'Eh. Who needs to get up yet?' But usually, it's more like Graham was up 3 times, or woke up with reflux or teething and literally is pulling my pajama pants to my ankles (well good morning neighbors! This is why our blinds stay closed in the morning) trying to climb on me to be held...whatever it is, while I am cherishing these times (see #2), I do greatly look forward to the day when that part of life will be a little more smooth.
I just edited the title of this to say 'Part 1'. A) because I'm tired and my brain is turning to mush and B) because this gives me something to write about tomorrow in case I'm not in my 'let's talk seriously deep life-altering things' mode yet. More to come...
OK. Pulling it together. I have a feeling some of this will be some seriously deep stuff, but tonight, because it's late and because my husband is camping and I don't have someone to cry to if I wanted, we're going to keep it a bit lighter, thus my 'First Year Top 10: Myth or Fact'. I should probably make this into a TV game show. To play, I'm going to write down something I was told about the first year of parenthood. Then, I'm going to say if it was a myth or a fact. Mind blowing, I know. Note: this is in our case...I'm sure it can vary greatly for everyone. Nevertheless, let's get started shall we?
1. "You'll forget the pain of childbirth." Myth. Did I forget that? NO. Do I ever think I'll forget it? Nope. In fact, if I think about it too much, I get a little freaked out about giving birth again someday. I had a relatively quick labor, but very "intense" (nice word for: hurt.like.a.mother. No pun intended), so to think I'll forget that pain isn't really reasonable. I am able to distance myself from it, and also know now that when it was done, it was really done, and that I can do it. I think that may be what people mean by 'forget the pain'. Or if they really do forget the pain, well, I'm jealous.
2. "Just enjoy every moment. They go by so quickly and you'll miss them." Fact-mostly. I almost can't believe I'm saying that, because for a long time, I did not think that. When you have a baby screaming in pain for 4 hours straight every night for 2 months, your first thought is not "I'm going to miss this". Your first thought is "I miss my old life." And even now, I don't miss the screaming, for obvious reasons. But what I do miss is how little he was, and how even when he was screaming, he could fall asleep in my arms, or how he would just lay there and look at me. Because now, he's a 24 lb. squirming almost-toddler, and he's so much fun, but cuddle times are hard to come by some days. So I get it now. With experience comes wisdom, isn't that how the saying goes?
3. "You're in survival mode for the first few months, and you'll get through." Big.fat.fact. You do not feel like you'll get through some days. The alarm on my phone that woke me up every two hours to feed him? I hate that thing. Correction: I despise it. I heard someone's phone with that music as their ringer the other day and it was like instant anxiety/panic/dread. But we got through, and even looking on those days I can fondly remember (most) of them. I laughed the other morning because I complain sometimes when he's up at 6 am after sleeping all night...how in the world did I get through months of waking up every few hours, and staying up for an hour to feed/change/burp/repeat? Lots of episodes of Law and Order, reruns of America's Next Top Model and the grace of God. That's how.
4. "Breast is best - it will be hard, but do what you have to do to make it work." Myth-for us. Breastfeeding was sweet at times, and I'm glad we did it for a while, and want to try again with any future children. But, as I realized through a lot of pain and tears, it just wasn't to be. I think God used that to really show me how much I'm not in control. Between reflux, protein allergies, post-partum and lots of other things, I'm surprised we made it as long as we did (almost 5 months). I remember the first time we took Graham to the chiropractor after switching him to his lovely, God-sent but incredibly overpriced formula, our chiropractor couldn't believe he was the same baby! He kept going on and on about it, because it was the first time in 4 months he'd seen him smiling and not screaming...that's when I knew we were on to something.
5. "The hardest thing is just getting out the door." FACT. Graham is almost one, and still, every day I have to plan in my head how we're going to arrange everything and everyone to get out the door on time; it doesn't matter if 'on time' means 8 am or 4 pm...it's an art form. Even on the days when everything is perfectly in order - things for the sitter, clothes picked out for all of us, showered the night before...inevitably, 99.9% of the time we're still rushing at the end. Some days, it's because there has been a random blessing from heaven and Graham slept in, so we decide 'Eh. Who needs to get up yet?' But usually, it's more like Graham was up 3 times, or woke up with reflux or teething and literally is pulling my pajama pants to my ankles (well good morning neighbors! This is why our blinds stay closed in the morning) trying to climb on me to be held...whatever it is, while I am cherishing these times (see #2), I do greatly look forward to the day when that part of life will be a little more smooth.
I just edited the title of this to say 'Part 1'. A) because I'm tired and my brain is turning to mush and B) because this gives me something to write about tomorrow in case I'm not in my 'let's talk seriously deep life-altering things' mode yet. More to come...
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Boycotting Mama?
I'm almost nervous to write this. Scratch that - I am nervous. A) because it's controversial and B) because it's not really the normal thing I write about on this blog. Oh well, here we go!
If you know me very well, you know I enjoy politics, and a good political debate/discussion. When I had the opportunity to go lobby on Capitol Hill a few weeks ago, I was possibly as excited as a kid going to Disney for the first time (I say possibly, because I've actually never been to Disney. I know, I know. Poor, deprived farm girl. Except I don't really care that much). Also, the normal Americanized Baptistic "Republican = Christian" mindset that tends to permeate much of our society and our churches annoys me to no end, so bring up a politician, gay marriage, and a chicken sandwich and you've got me hooked.
Let's start by getting this out of the way: I believe in marriage between a man and a woman, period. I don't think marriage is marriage if it's between a man and a man or a woman and a woman. If you'd like me to expound on why, feel free to ask me personally and I'll gladly discuss it with you! I also believe in a free market and free speech, so whether you and I agree or not, we both have every right to not only share our opinions, but build a business where we choose, how we choose, and use the profits from that business as we wish. And that, my friends, is why the fact that there is even a debate happening surrounding the Chick-Fil-A controversy seems utterly ridiculous.
First, the mayor of Boston and whoever else wanted to boycott CFA (I'm lazy, sorry) for what their owner said is not an idiot, and deserve respect for their position, but they did make a statement that was not well thought-out. It's ironic, really. They wanted to ban the restaurant from their city for the exact same thing they were doing - expressing their opinion. Apparently it's only OK for them to do that if they agree with you...I'll make a mental note of that. So, I get it. I get the free speech part of it and even posted a link to something Mike Huckabee had written regarding the fact that it's about free speech and the right to express your beliefs. At the time, I didn't really know much about the whole August 1st "Let's go Eat Chicken Day!" (my name for it). Honestly, if you're planning on going in support of free speech, I don't think that's a bad thing, as it's one of the major rights we possess.
Here's where my issue lies: why is this particular instance about free speech? And is it really about free speech? Because, all of a sudden, the Christian (or Republican...sometimes the labels are inaccurately interchangeable) community at large is all "I support Chick-Fil-A!" and "Free Speech for Americans!" But, if it were really about that, why aren't we all "I'm going to Starbucks because they support gay marriage!" and "Breast Cancer Awareness rocks because they expressed their opinion. Free speech all the way!"....? I think it's because it's an easy guise; a cover for saying what we really think: "They can't bash what we believe. They can't ban us for that. I can publicly boycott whatever company I want because they choose to do with their money things I don't agree with, but you want to do that to ME and MY beliefs?? Uh-uh. No.way." But we make it look all pretty like "I love free speech!" I have much more respect for you if you can be honest about your motives, (myself included because I do it too, all the time!) and be consistent. If it's really about free speech then I better see you at Chick-Fil-A with a Starbucks latte in hand. If it's not, then say it's not.
But, if it's not, and it really is because you're offended, then maybe stop and ask yourself a question: Is this the best way to get my point across? Is showing my support in this way the best way to show the love of Christ? Because if our reason for going is to stand up for our beliefs, joining in an already heated debate probably isn't going to win anyone over. I don't know about you, but if someone I disagree with joins a huge throng of people and angrily chomps a chicken sandwich, I'm not prone to want to listen to them. But, if said person that I disagree with bought a chicken sandwich for themselves, brought me one, and invited me to sit down and have an open heart-to-heart talk, I'd at the very least be up for talking. If nothing else, because, hey, I like chicken.
So, before we start boycotting things we disagree with, or very publicly supporting businesses because we agree with them, maybe we should take a different approach. Maybe we should consider, I don't know...actually talking to the people we don't agree with. Write the mayor of Boston a sincere. respectful letter. Better yet, befriend some people in your own community with whom you don't agree. Wasn't Jesus called a glutton and a drunkard? I'm pretty sure it wasn't because he was hanging out with other people who only shared His beliefs. He didn't participate in their behavior, and He openly, honestly and lovingly shared why it was wrong, but He didn't waltz into their house eating a delicious box of waffle fries in spite either.
Besides, if we're really going to be consistent about only supporting businesses that line up with our beliefs, well...stop shopping at Wal-Mart, don't buy American-made cars, don't buy almost any major brand of food/clothes/toiletries, and ask every farmer at the farmer's market where they spend their money, then go live in a commune and grow our own food (wait...that doesn't sound horrible...). But seriously, to borrow a political term, go grassroots and start with your neighbor, or the guy walking downtown, or the lady next to you in the grocery aisle. Because we're called to reach people. And people, my friends, are right next door.
OK, I'm done. And I'm posting it to Facebook. And I might get flack for it. But that's OK, because really, it's only about free speech, right? ;)
If you know me very well, you know I enjoy politics, and a good political debate/discussion. When I had the opportunity to go lobby on Capitol Hill a few weeks ago, I was possibly as excited as a kid going to Disney for the first time (I say possibly, because I've actually never been to Disney. I know, I know. Poor, deprived farm girl. Except I don't really care that much). Also, the normal Americanized Baptistic "Republican = Christian" mindset that tends to permeate much of our society and our churches annoys me to no end, so bring up a politician, gay marriage, and a chicken sandwich and you've got me hooked.
Let's start by getting this out of the way: I believe in marriage between a man and a woman, period. I don't think marriage is marriage if it's between a man and a man or a woman and a woman. If you'd like me to expound on why, feel free to ask me personally and I'll gladly discuss it with you! I also believe in a free market and free speech, so whether you and I agree or not, we both have every right to not only share our opinions, but build a business where we choose, how we choose, and use the profits from that business as we wish. And that, my friends, is why the fact that there is even a debate happening surrounding the Chick-Fil-A controversy seems utterly ridiculous.
First, the mayor of Boston and whoever else wanted to boycott CFA (I'm lazy, sorry) for what their owner said is not an idiot, and deserve respect for their position, but they did make a statement that was not well thought-out. It's ironic, really. They wanted to ban the restaurant from their city for the exact same thing they were doing - expressing their opinion. Apparently it's only OK for them to do that if they agree with you...I'll make a mental note of that. So, I get it. I get the free speech part of it and even posted a link to something Mike Huckabee had written regarding the fact that it's about free speech and the right to express your beliefs. At the time, I didn't really know much about the whole August 1st "Let's go Eat Chicken Day!" (my name for it). Honestly, if you're planning on going in support of free speech, I don't think that's a bad thing, as it's one of the major rights we possess.
Here's where my issue lies: why is this particular instance about free speech? And is it really about free speech? Because, all of a sudden, the Christian (or Republican...sometimes the labels are inaccurately interchangeable) community at large is all "I support Chick-Fil-A!" and "Free Speech for Americans!" But, if it were really about that, why aren't we all "I'm going to Starbucks because they support gay marriage!" and "Breast Cancer Awareness rocks because they expressed their opinion. Free speech all the way!"....? I think it's because it's an easy guise; a cover for saying what we really think: "They can't bash what we believe. They can't ban us for that. I can publicly boycott whatever company I want because they choose to do with their money things I don't agree with, but you want to do that to ME and MY beliefs?? Uh-uh. No.way." But we make it look all pretty like "I love free speech!" I have much more respect for you if you can be honest about your motives, (myself included because I do it too, all the time!) and be consistent. If it's really about free speech then I better see you at Chick-Fil-A with a Starbucks latte in hand. If it's not, then say it's not.
But, if it's not, and it really is because you're offended, then maybe stop and ask yourself a question: Is this the best way to get my point across? Is showing my support in this way the best way to show the love of Christ? Because if our reason for going is to stand up for our beliefs, joining in an already heated debate probably isn't going to win anyone over. I don't know about you, but if someone I disagree with joins a huge throng of people and angrily chomps a chicken sandwich, I'm not prone to want to listen to them. But, if said person that I disagree with bought a chicken sandwich for themselves, brought me one, and invited me to sit down and have an open heart-to-heart talk, I'd at the very least be up for talking. If nothing else, because, hey, I like chicken.
So, before we start boycotting things we disagree with, or very publicly supporting businesses because we agree with them, maybe we should take a different approach. Maybe we should consider, I don't know...actually talking to the people we don't agree with. Write the mayor of Boston a sincere. respectful letter. Better yet, befriend some people in your own community with whom you don't agree. Wasn't Jesus called a glutton and a drunkard? I'm pretty sure it wasn't because he was hanging out with other people who only shared His beliefs. He didn't participate in their behavior, and He openly, honestly and lovingly shared why it was wrong, but He didn't waltz into their house eating a delicious box of waffle fries in spite either.
Besides, if we're really going to be consistent about only supporting businesses that line up with our beliefs, well...stop shopping at Wal-Mart, don't buy American-made cars, don't buy almost any major brand of food/clothes/toiletries, and ask every farmer at the farmer's market where they spend their money, then go live in a commune and grow our own food (wait...that doesn't sound horrible...). But seriously, to borrow a political term, go grassroots and start with your neighbor, or the guy walking downtown, or the lady next to you in the grocery aisle. Because we're called to reach people. And people, my friends, are right next door.
OK, I'm done. And I'm posting it to Facebook. And I might get flack for it. But that's OK, because really, it's only about free speech, right? ;)
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Multitasking Mama
I'm sitting at Liberty University's Snowflex as I write this. Only here do you run into skater guys, moms with kids, people from college who are still hanging out at LU as frequently as when we were students (yes - I'm talking to you guy with the beard. I see you.), and of course, the inevitable small church service. It is Wednesday night, after all, and they are currently singing "How Great is our God", led by a man with an acoustic guitar. Ahh...Liberty. It's nice to know some things don't change. Ever.
Why am I here, you may ask? Well, it's my "free night", and after I perused TJ Maxx for a bit, grabbed some coffee and thought this would be a nice comfy, quiet place to write. However, thanks to guitar man (who does have a lovely voice), I'm not in the air-conditioned lodge on a big comfy couch - I'm on a metal chair which is on top of AstroTurf, with a bee that apparently wants to be friends, and a pile of inner tubes behind me. At least it's a gorgeous view!
*side note* a little girl just shouted "I'm the queen of England!" and there is a lady walking around with a camera videotaping everything, everything, that is, except her kids. And I'm totally out of dress code and feel like I should cover my shoulders with a sweater, lest I get reps. *end side note*
I think it's befitting that I ended up here tonight - the last place I probably would have thought I'd be on my free night. I feel like I should be taking advantage of this time by going out with friends, going for a long run, getting something done...but I'm sitting here instead. It's befitting because I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the general busyness of life, priorities, and how those fit into my role as a mama. (a couple of friends have also recently posted about these things...you can check out Gini's blog here)
As women, I would say 90% of us probably excel at multitasking. It's kind of what we do, without even thinking about it. When I was in high school, I was on the volleyball team, captain of the cheerleading squad, valedictorian (it was a small school - don't be impressed), completed an internship, was on the church and school drama teams, was a youth leader, student council secretary and on yearbook. (can we say overachieving nerd? Yes, yes we can.) In college, it was student leadership, honors classes, dance team (not at LU, silly people), work study, part-time jobs and of course the ever-important hanging out with friends every night of the week. Now, in my job, I manage a staff of 12 who all have their own individual caseloads, update procedures, develop trainings, market our services, serve on a state advisory council, oversee billing and my department budget and goals, hire new staff, supervise and lead staff training, travel...and somewhere in there have a home, husband, son, friends, family and some kind of personal life.
Just looking at that list is exhausting some days. And I don't write that to say "Ooo! Look at me, I'm so busy and important." You - anyone reading this - probably has just as many things, if not more, whether you work or stay at home, have kids or not. My point is, we are just plain busy, and honestly, I don't think that's a good thing. Somewhere we decided that to be valued, to feel accomplished, to have meaning in our days, we need to constantly have something to do, somewhere to be, and someone to meet. And if we don't, then something must be wrong with our lives.
In my role as a mama, I see this permeating my days, especially on my days off. I think I'm so used to doing, doing, doing, I feel bad - actually guilty! - if I'm not. So, we run errands, go to playgroups, do laundry, clean house, pay bills, paint baseboards, organize closets, make lists, make dinner...all in the name of being "productive". And at the end of the day, I still feel behind, and almost wrong if I just want to sit and read or watch some TV for a while. The thing that frustrates me is that we encourage this in one another! I constantly see Facebook posts where we're listing (much as I have here) all the things we did/have to do in a day, and then spur each other on with comments such as "You're supermom!" or "I could never do all of that, you're amazing!" Or, the opposite: we'll post that we're taking some 'me time' and get the inevitable "You deserve it. You work so hard." as though our busyness is a prerequisite for just taking time to enjoy life.
What if it wasn't? What if we slowed down and took some time to really enjoy the gifts that are right in front of our faces, instead of constantly striving for that feeling of 'accomplishment'?
I think it really comes down to our motivation, our priorities, and what we truly value. (or, rather, where we find our value) I've learned in my job that days go best when I plan and prioritize based on what is important, not just checking off a to-do list or scheduling myself so back-to-back that I'm so busy my head is spinning. (even though checking off that list feels so good!) But, if I'm pulled in 10 different directions, or so focused on 'getting it done', I'm not really available for my staff or able to put all of myself into any one thing. The same holds true for home. My relationship with God and my family are most important, and caring for them requires a lot of multitasking. (I'm not dense enough to think I can just sit back and not take care of things. And believe me, with a mobile 8 month old, just cooking dinner can be a feat in juggling) But am I so focused on being 'supermom' or 'superwife' or 'superwhatever' and getting everything done that rather than serving them because I love them and it's a joy, I'm focused on the action of serving and failing to even see the reason(s) I do it? When that's the case, as is far more often than I would like to admit, I am not supermom. I am super-stressed, super-worried, super-anxious and super-exhausted!
So tonight, I'm sitting and writing. And swatting at bees. (seriously?! It's like it wants to make love to my leg. No.thank.you.) And looking at mountains. And enjoying some solitude so when I am back with my family, I can be focused and present, giving them me, not just the things that I do.
Why am I here, you may ask? Well, it's my "free night", and after I perused TJ Maxx for a bit, grabbed some coffee and thought this would be a nice comfy, quiet place to write. However, thanks to guitar man (who does have a lovely voice), I'm not in the air-conditioned lodge on a big comfy couch - I'm on a metal chair which is on top of AstroTurf, with a bee that apparently wants to be friends, and a pile of inner tubes behind me. At least it's a gorgeous view!
*side note* a little girl just shouted "I'm the queen of England!" and there is a lady walking around with a camera videotaping everything, everything, that is, except her kids. And I'm totally out of dress code and feel like I should cover my shoulders with a sweater, lest I get reps. *end side note*
I think it's befitting that I ended up here tonight - the last place I probably would have thought I'd be on my free night. I feel like I should be taking advantage of this time by going out with friends, going for a long run, getting something done...but I'm sitting here instead. It's befitting because I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the general busyness of life, priorities, and how those fit into my role as a mama. (a couple of friends have also recently posted about these things...you can check out Gini's blog here)
As women, I would say 90% of us probably excel at multitasking. It's kind of what we do, without even thinking about it. When I was in high school, I was on the volleyball team, captain of the cheerleading squad, valedictorian (it was a small school - don't be impressed), completed an internship, was on the church and school drama teams, was a youth leader, student council secretary and on yearbook. (can we say overachieving nerd? Yes, yes we can.) In college, it was student leadership, honors classes, dance team (not at LU, silly people), work study, part-time jobs and of course the ever-important hanging out with friends every night of the week. Now, in my job, I manage a staff of 12 who all have their own individual caseloads, update procedures, develop trainings, market our services, serve on a state advisory council, oversee billing and my department budget and goals, hire new staff, supervise and lead staff training, travel...and somewhere in there have a home, husband, son, friends, family and some kind of personal life.
Just looking at that list is exhausting some days. And I don't write that to say "Ooo! Look at me, I'm so busy and important." You - anyone reading this - probably has just as many things, if not more, whether you work or stay at home, have kids or not. My point is, we are just plain busy, and honestly, I don't think that's a good thing. Somewhere we decided that to be valued, to feel accomplished, to have meaning in our days, we need to constantly have something to do, somewhere to be, and someone to meet. And if we don't, then something must be wrong with our lives.
In my role as a mama, I see this permeating my days, especially on my days off. I think I'm so used to doing, doing, doing, I feel bad - actually guilty! - if I'm not. So, we run errands, go to playgroups, do laundry, clean house, pay bills, paint baseboards, organize closets, make lists, make dinner...all in the name of being "productive". And at the end of the day, I still feel behind, and almost wrong if I just want to sit and read or watch some TV for a while. The thing that frustrates me is that we encourage this in one another! I constantly see Facebook posts where we're listing (much as I have here) all the things we did/have to do in a day, and then spur each other on with comments such as "You're supermom!" or "I could never do all of that, you're amazing!" Or, the opposite: we'll post that we're taking some 'me time' and get the inevitable "You deserve it. You work so hard." as though our busyness is a prerequisite for just taking time to enjoy life.
What if it wasn't? What if we slowed down and took some time to really enjoy the gifts that are right in front of our faces, instead of constantly striving for that feeling of 'accomplishment'?
I think it really comes down to our motivation, our priorities, and what we truly value. (or, rather, where we find our value) I've learned in my job that days go best when I plan and prioritize based on what is important, not just checking off a to-do list or scheduling myself so back-to-back that I'm so busy my head is spinning. (even though checking off that list feels so good!) But, if I'm pulled in 10 different directions, or so focused on 'getting it done', I'm not really available for my staff or able to put all of myself into any one thing. The same holds true for home. My relationship with God and my family are most important, and caring for them requires a lot of multitasking. (I'm not dense enough to think I can just sit back and not take care of things. And believe me, with a mobile 8 month old, just cooking dinner can be a feat in juggling) But am I so focused on being 'supermom' or 'superwife' or 'superwhatever' and getting everything done that rather than serving them because I love them and it's a joy, I'm focused on the action of serving and failing to even see the reason(s) I do it? When that's the case, as is far more often than I would like to admit, I am not supermom. I am super-stressed, super-worried, super-anxious and super-exhausted!
So tonight, I'm sitting and writing. And swatting at bees. (seriously?! It's like it wants to make love to my leg. No.thank.you.) And looking at mountains. And enjoying some solitude so when I am back with my family, I can be focused and present, giving them me, not just the things that I do.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Gifts
I think about what I want to blog about all the time. No, really. I really think "hmm...I should blog about that" probably at least 3 times/week. I even have things jotted down to blog about. (some of them: working mom life; bangs [as in hairstyle]; girlfriends and how hard they can be; Christians and honesty/real life] ) But then I get all caught up in the crazy that is my life right now and never do it. Tonight, however, that changes. Tonight, it is quiet (for now), cool, I have the door open, music playing and a glass of wine and I am going to blog, damn it. (ooo. Alcohol and cursing right up front; this means it should be a good one. And if it's not, don't burst my bubble. Just go with it.)
The past 3 weeks have been a whirlwind. Even as I type this, I'm shocked it's been 3 weeks - they have all kind of blurred together. I've been to a conference in Arlington, meetings on Capitol Hill (bucket list - yep, it was on there), watched the sun set from the Jefferson Memorial, danced to karaoke with people of all abilities, spent a week at the beach with family, lost power for a week (those weeks thankfully overlapped!), have a baby who now has 2 teeth is is almost crawling, celebrated a wonderful friend's 30th birthday, and have traveled 400 miles in the last 3 days for work.
Lots has happened, and I feel like I've learned a lot. I'm not entirely sure how it all has worked together or if I'll ever really figure it out, but, while my head still feels like it's in about 800 different places, I feel more centered, more...peaceful, I guess, than I have in a long time. Don't get me wrong, I was stressed today and felt hectic and stretched and just wanted to hide for a while...but getting back to that sense of calm in the midst of chaos hasn't been quite as difficult lately.
Something just clicked a few weeks ago. I was really struggling with just never feeling like anything was enough...constantly behind on everything: work, home, parenting, Pinterest projects, cooking...whatever. And, to be honest, I still feel that way. I think the difference is I'm learning to accept that I can't do everything and I have the ability to choose. I can choose to focus on the crazy parts of life, or I can choose to focus on the good, and see the good - and the bad, and the hectic, and the sad, and the everything - as gifts.
I'm a bookworm (read: nerd alert), and I think God's really used that to teach me some good life lessons. I read Kelle Hampton's book Bloom: Finding Beauty in the Unexpected as soon as it came out. I knew it would hit home with all the unexpected I've run into in this motherhood journey, and boy did it ever. I still have it by my bed because I know I'm going to need to re-read it and refer to it often. Along the same lines, I had started reading Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are, when I was pregnant. Her writing is beautiful, but definitely very...flowy, I guess I would say, and for a while I tired of it and put it down. But about a month ago, I felt this irresistible urge to just pick it back up again. And when I did, it was like everything I couldn't quite pin down in my mind and all the things I couldn't put into words just clicked. I brought it with me to my conference, and with the added time to myself was really able to read and think about things.
Since this is getting long, to sum it up (and completely jack the author's words): all is grace. As I was driving Graham to daycare this morning I head Laura Story's song "Blessings", and there is a part that says "We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering, All the while, You hear each spoken need, Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things." That is it! Me, in my prideful, type-A ways am convinced so often that my way is best. That if things would only be this way I would be more content, more happy, more at peace, more... How.dare.I. Everything God gives me is for my good (reference Psalm 118) So often I fail to remember that God chose me, loves me and is for me. This means everything, the good, the bad, the ugly, He is using to shape me and is for my good. And I can choose to see each of these things as a gift from His hand, or choose not to. But I'm learning that life somehow works a bit better when I choose the first option.
Here's a random list I jotted down while at the conference...see? I told you I think about blogging; this was even started as a post while there. Maybe they won't make any sense to you, but I like them.
God's sovereignty
Christians being un-Christian; not direct, tip-toeing around issues (learning how to be honest and real)
Autism
Good conversations with husband
time to think, relax, enjoy
Learning!
Fresh eyes - renewed passion for people
Inspired
Bucket lists
Lists of good things
sleep
love for a baby
community
sharing/growing
fancy hotel things
big city life
gorgeous blue skies, strong breezes
bubble baths and good music
What are some gifts you've noticed in your life lately? Or, if you haven't, maybe now is a good time to look for them...I promise, it will be a good thing. (side note: when I say it's a 'good thing' I feel like Martha Stewart. Didn't she always have a segment on her show saying 'It's a good thing.' ? That is all.)
The past 3 weeks have been a whirlwind. Even as I type this, I'm shocked it's been 3 weeks - they have all kind of blurred together. I've been to a conference in Arlington, meetings on Capitol Hill (bucket list - yep, it was on there), watched the sun set from the Jefferson Memorial, danced to karaoke with people of all abilities, spent a week at the beach with family, lost power for a week (those weeks thankfully overlapped!), have a baby who now has 2 teeth is is almost crawling, celebrated a wonderful friend's 30th birthday, and have traveled 400 miles in the last 3 days for work.
Lots has happened, and I feel like I've learned a lot. I'm not entirely sure how it all has worked together or if I'll ever really figure it out, but, while my head still feels like it's in about 800 different places, I feel more centered, more...peaceful, I guess, than I have in a long time. Don't get me wrong, I was stressed today and felt hectic and stretched and just wanted to hide for a while...but getting back to that sense of calm in the midst of chaos hasn't been quite as difficult lately.
Something just clicked a few weeks ago. I was really struggling with just never feeling like anything was enough...constantly behind on everything: work, home, parenting, Pinterest projects, cooking...whatever. And, to be honest, I still feel that way. I think the difference is I'm learning to accept that I can't do everything and I have the ability to choose. I can choose to focus on the crazy parts of life, or I can choose to focus on the good, and see the good - and the bad, and the hectic, and the sad, and the everything - as gifts.
I'm a bookworm (read: nerd alert), and I think God's really used that to teach me some good life lessons. I read Kelle Hampton's book Bloom: Finding Beauty in the Unexpected as soon as it came out. I knew it would hit home with all the unexpected I've run into in this motherhood journey, and boy did it ever. I still have it by my bed because I know I'm going to need to re-read it and refer to it often. Along the same lines, I had started reading Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are, when I was pregnant. Her writing is beautiful, but definitely very...flowy, I guess I would say, and for a while I tired of it and put it down. But about a month ago, I felt this irresistible urge to just pick it back up again. And when I did, it was like everything I couldn't quite pin down in my mind and all the things I couldn't put into words just clicked. I brought it with me to my conference, and with the added time to myself was really able to read and think about things.
Since this is getting long, to sum it up (and completely jack the author's words): all is grace. As I was driving Graham to daycare this morning I head Laura Story's song "Blessings", and there is a part that says "We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering, All the while, You hear each spoken need, Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things." That is it! Me, in my prideful, type-A ways am convinced so often that my way is best. That if things would only be this way I would be more content, more happy, more at peace, more... How.dare.I. Everything God gives me is for my good (reference Psalm 118) So often I fail to remember that God chose me, loves me and is for me. This means everything, the good, the bad, the ugly, He is using to shape me and is for my good. And I can choose to see each of these things as a gift from His hand, or choose not to. But I'm learning that life somehow works a bit better when I choose the first option.
Here's a random list I jotted down while at the conference...see? I told you I think about blogging; this was even started as a post while there. Maybe they won't make any sense to you, but I like them.
God's sovereignty
Christians being un-Christian; not direct, tip-toeing around issues (learning how to be honest and real)
Autism
Good conversations with husband
time to think, relax, enjoy
Learning!
Fresh eyes - renewed passion for people
Inspired
Bucket lists
Lists of good things
sleep
love for a baby
community
sharing/growing
fancy hotel things
big city life
gorgeous blue skies, strong breezes
bubble baths and good music
What are some gifts you've noticed in your life lately? Or, if you haven't, maybe now is a good time to look for them...I promise, it will be a good thing. (side note: when I say it's a 'good thing' I feel like Martha Stewart. Didn't she always have a segment on her show saying 'It's a good thing.' ? That is all.)
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Perspective
So I've been working on this post for about a week and a half now...every time I go to write, it's usually late and I start typing then I think "I'm tired" (or, more probable, Jim is saying "I can't sleep with that light on") and I get about 2 sentences down. It's early tonight, so maybe I'll actually finish this!
Last week I was given the opportunity to watch a friend's adorable little 5(ish) week old boy for a bit before heading to an appointment for work. I was both excited and nervous, nervous because, let's face it, my experience with a 5 week old has been less than ideal. (i.e. that was the week I referred to as 'hell week' up until recently; it's when G started having 4 hours straight of screaming for days on end) But I was excited too, to see how I'd do, how I would feel, if I would enjoy it...kind of to know if the idea of a little one again is really conceivable yet. Bonus: my 7 month old (what?! that's crazy. 7 months) was up twice in the night, once for almost 2 hours, so I was running on similar-to-newborn-phase sleep, just to make it more realistic. He's nice like that.
Back to the babysitting...I actually really enjoyed it! I was so much more relaxed than I remember being at that stage, and I guess it's because you've been through it once, you know it's OK if you don't necessarily have it all figured out. Funny, I should think that now too, but for some reason I think I should have every stage figured out before I get there...ah, lessons. Anyway, I had the very wonderful gift of being given a newborn who had just been fed, (and I wasn't the one who had to do the feeding) so he was pretty content overall. That, combined with me blow-drying my hair and he was asleep not long after he arrived.
Cut to his mom picking him up. We were crossing paths very quickly as I had to get out the door for work, so I had to keep it brief. Brief = me saying something like "Oh, sure he fussed a little, but it was great! I enjoyed it, he slept most of the time." Cue me walking out the door.
As soon as I got in the car I literally slapped myself in the forehead (let's hope the mark had subsided by the time I got to my meeting. If not, I thank my new bangs for covering it up). I remember hearing those words from friends. Friends who meant well, who wanted me to feel comfortable leaving my son with them and not worry about him fussing or crying, friends who wanted me to feel like I didn't need to worry and they could handle it. I also remember the feelings that went along with hearing those (and similar) words, feelings that showed themselves in thoughts like: "why is he good for them? am I doing something wrong? i must be doing something wrong! he's always great for other people and fussy with me, I must not be a good mother. can I just leave him with them and go home and crawl in bed and not come out?"
As soon as I was able, I called that friend and left her a nice long voicemail (which I'm sure was humorous), explaining how sorry I was that I'd been so flippant in telling her how he truly was. I then laid out what actually happened: he was content for about 5 minutes, then started crying, so I picked him up and we walked around and talked until he calmed down, then I held him until I thought he was calm again. I put him in his seat and he watched me blow-dry my hair (which, if you didn't know, is like baby-calming-magic-machine, at least for us it was!), then he fussed off and on for about 5 minutes then fell asleep. Maybe that was too much info, but I know when I was at that point and wanted to just curl into a little ball and cry some days, it would have been nice to hear "Yeah, he did fuss. Yes, we had to take time out of our day to calm him. Yes, babies can be incredibly hard and frustrating. Which is why I'll watch him again anytime, because I've been there."
I guess what I'm trying to say is, something I have learned very well with G is that I prefer things not to be sugar-coated. I want life full-on; the good, the bad, the ugly, the oh-my-gosh-this-is-what-hell-is-like, the we-had-the-best-day-ever days...ALL of it. So if you watch my baby and he screams for 30 minutes straight, don't tell me that "Oh he cried some but he went to sleep; we had a great time!" Please tell me, "I wanted to scream and run out the door and let it slam behind me and go to my nice, peaceful home, but since he's your child, I didn't. I smiled and whispered and silently cursed myself for offering to watch thisdemon angel child."
And if you did have a great time, then tell me that too!...but when you see me looking at that deceptive cute little being with a look of slight disgust because he was up 4x the night before and I'm on my 8th cup of coffee, please be kind enough to at least offer some sympathy for my plight, and don't say "He must be so easy! You have the best baby ever!" Because yes, my child is awesome and his smile lights up the entire room and I could just squeeze his little cheeks all day long and I seriously don't know how he can bring this much joy into my life. But his scream also pierces my eardrums in places I didn't know existed and no baby is incredibly adorable while screaming at 3 am. It's just fact.
All of that rambling to say, I'm thankful for the perspective this experience gave me. It helped me to realize that things truly are stages; they really don't last long. (hindsight is 20/20) It really sparked in me this sense of being thankful for every day - even the hard, not-so-good ones - and to look for the good in every day. I don't want to miss it, and I don't want to look back wishing I would have just relaxed and enjoyed it a bit more (which I do, when I think about those first few months). It really helped me to enjoy them just being a baby, because it is such a fleeting time, and I know when my little baby starts to take his first steps (which is going to come far sooner than I realize), I won't get these sleepless, tired, overwhelemingly full yet happy days back, and I will miss them.
Last week I was given the opportunity to watch a friend's adorable little 5(ish) week old boy for a bit before heading to an appointment for work. I was both excited and nervous, nervous because, let's face it, my experience with a 5 week old has been less than ideal. (i.e. that was the week I referred to as 'hell week' up until recently; it's when G started having 4 hours straight of screaming for days on end) But I was excited too, to see how I'd do, how I would feel, if I would enjoy it...kind of to know if the idea of a little one again is really conceivable yet. Bonus: my 7 month old (what?! that's crazy. 7 months) was up twice in the night, once for almost 2 hours, so I was running on similar-to-newborn-phase sleep, just to make it more realistic. He's nice like that.
Back to the babysitting...I actually really enjoyed it! I was so much more relaxed than I remember being at that stage, and I guess it's because you've been through it once, you know it's OK if you don't necessarily have it all figured out. Funny, I should think that now too, but for some reason I think I should have every stage figured out before I get there...ah, lessons. Anyway, I had the very wonderful gift of being given a newborn who had just been fed, (and I wasn't the one who had to do the feeding) so he was pretty content overall. That, combined with me blow-drying my hair and he was asleep not long after he arrived.
Cut to his mom picking him up. We were crossing paths very quickly as I had to get out the door for work, so I had to keep it brief. Brief = me saying something like "Oh, sure he fussed a little, but it was great! I enjoyed it, he slept most of the time." Cue me walking out the door.
As soon as I got in the car I literally slapped myself in the forehead (let's hope the mark had subsided by the time I got to my meeting. If not, I thank my new bangs for covering it up). I remember hearing those words from friends. Friends who meant well, who wanted me to feel comfortable leaving my son with them and not worry about him fussing or crying, friends who wanted me to feel like I didn't need to worry and they could handle it. I also remember the feelings that went along with hearing those (and similar) words, feelings that showed themselves in thoughts like: "why is he good for them? am I doing something wrong? i must be doing something wrong! he's always great for other people and fussy with me, I must not be a good mother. can I just leave him with them and go home and crawl in bed and not come out?"
As soon as I was able, I called that friend and left her a nice long voicemail (which I'm sure was humorous), explaining how sorry I was that I'd been so flippant in telling her how he truly was. I then laid out what actually happened: he was content for about 5 minutes, then started crying, so I picked him up and we walked around and talked until he calmed down, then I held him until I thought he was calm again. I put him in his seat and he watched me blow-dry my hair (which, if you didn't know, is like baby-calming-magic-machine, at least for us it was!), then he fussed off and on for about 5 minutes then fell asleep. Maybe that was too much info, but I know when I was at that point and wanted to just curl into a little ball and cry some days, it would have been nice to hear "Yeah, he did fuss. Yes, we had to take time out of our day to calm him. Yes, babies can be incredibly hard and frustrating. Which is why I'll watch him again anytime, because I've been there."
I guess what I'm trying to say is, something I have learned very well with G is that I prefer things not to be sugar-coated. I want life full-on; the good, the bad, the ugly, the oh-my-gosh-this-is-what-hell-is-like, the we-had-the-best-day-ever days...ALL of it. So if you watch my baby and he screams for 30 minutes straight, don't tell me that "Oh he cried some but he went to sleep; we had a great time!" Please tell me, "I wanted to scream and run out the door and let it slam behind me and go to my nice, peaceful home, but since he's your child, I didn't. I smiled and whispered and silently cursed myself for offering to watch this
And if you did have a great time, then tell me that too!...but when you see me looking at that deceptive cute little being with a look of slight disgust because he was up 4x the night before and I'm on my 8th cup of coffee, please be kind enough to at least offer some sympathy for my plight, and don't say "He must be so easy! You have the best baby ever!" Because yes, my child is awesome and his smile lights up the entire room and I could just squeeze his little cheeks all day long and I seriously don't know how he can bring this much joy into my life. But his scream also pierces my eardrums in places I didn't know existed and no baby is incredibly adorable while screaming at 3 am. It's just fact.
All of that rambling to say, I'm thankful for the perspective this experience gave me. It helped me to realize that things truly are stages; they really don't last long. (hindsight is 20/20) It really sparked in me this sense of being thankful for every day - even the hard, not-so-good ones - and to look for the good in every day. I don't want to miss it, and I don't want to look back wishing I would have just relaxed and enjoyed it a bit more (which I do, when I think about those first few months). It really helped me to enjoy them just being a baby, because it is such a fleeting time, and I know when my little baby starts to take his first steps (which is going to come far sooner than I realize), I won't get these sleepless, tired, overwhelemingly full yet happy days back, and I will miss them.
Seriously? He slays me.
Copyright S. Carter Studios
Copyright S. Carter Studios
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