If you're a mom, then you are probably no stranger to the world of mommy blogs (which, let's face it - this is mostly that), mommy Instagram accounts, HuffPost articles that circulate Facebook, funny - and quite accurate - memes about your kids driving you to drink, etc. etc. You're also probably no stranger to the push for 'realness', for authenticity, for showing life as it truly is. I love that trend. But for as popular as it is, I can't tell you the number of time I have had people make the comment to me - be it in regards to this blog, something I shared on Instagram, or even just in conversation - 'I love how real you are'; they say it like it's something they don't see that often. It seems like there is a disconnect somewhere, which has had me thinking...
How real are we in real life? Not just in the pictures posted online or the blog post that went viral, but one on one, when we see each other on the street or at the playground, in the office or the gym? The more I've started paying attention, the more I've noticed: we're not. This was glaringly apparent to me the other day, as I sat talking with some first-time moms of little ones. When I first talked to some, it was the usual 'Hi! I'm so and so' with smiles and coos at the babies. But as we all actually talked about what was going on in our lives, I realized we all had that same new-baby glassy stare, the questions and confusion, the sheer exhaustion and the overwhelmed feelings that everyone else had. And thankfully, we were in a safe space to share those feelings. But what if we weren't? Or what if we were unaware such a place existed? Would we just go through our days with the smiles and the coos on the outside, but not let people know what was really going on? I think that happens far too often - and not just in motherhood, but in life.
Life is hard, people. It's also amazing, and wonderful and full of joy, but is sometimes just.plain.hard. And hard looks so different for everyone. What I may struggle with may be completely different than what you're going through, but at its core, it's the same. Or what I'm celebrating and what you're celebrating may be on opposite ends of the spectrum, but we're still celebrating. So why is that when we see each other the conversation goes something like this: 'Hey! How are you?' 'Oh, you know fine. How bout you?' 'Good, pretty good.' 'Good!' ...and that's where we leave it?
I get that we need some people - very close people - who we can share the deepest of the deep with, and that doesn't need to be shared with the general public. But in our fast-paced, busy lives, and especially if you're in the season of motherhood, we need community (reference my last post for that one). But we can't grow in community unless we're willing to really go there. To get real. And by community, I don't mean 'fellowship', as one may or may not have experienced if you grew up in a church background like me. Fellowship could be defined as: hanging out, a get together, sharing prayer requests about our random family member who lives 5 states away. Community could be defined as: we've all got some shit, so let's share it and walk through that together. Joys, trials, triumphs, failures. The whole bit.
So if I'm in a funk and having a bad day, then when you ask me how I'm doing, my answer may be more along the lines of 'Awful, actually.' or maybe I'll just look at you and start crying. Or if you have my sense of humor I'll text you something sarcastic so we can commiserate together. Likewise, if my day is great, I'm not going to say I'm just 'OK'. I'm going to tell you I'm GREAT! and tell you how God just provided something unexpectedly, or why my three year old is the most hilarious human alive. And if you ask for a prayer request, be prepared for things like 'I'm angry with God because we're dealing with this again' (that was a very real one up until last week or so). Because if we're all being honest, very rarely are we just 'fine' or 'good'. We're humans; we have too many emotions for that.
I've been trying to put this into practice, and I think that's maybe what surprises people. Because most of the blogs we read or Instagram feeds we see aren't people we actually know. They can be real and we can feel 'real' with them, but it's rare (while wonderful!) when we can actually connect with them. It's far more awkward when it's someone you are conversing with. Lately, when people ask how I am, my initial answer has been: 'It depends on the day. Sometimes good, sometimes awful.' or when talking about getting out of the house with little ones: 'I know. I was on the phone with my husband on the way here bawling about how hard this all is.' and when talking with a friend who is also going through a tough season: 'I just want to yell how I f***ing hate this!' It may not be pretty and have a hashtag and filter applied to it, but it's raw and it's real. And dare I say, refreshing?
So, let's get real. You with me, me with you. If you ask me how I'm doing, I promise an honest answer, and I'm hoping you'll do the same. That way we can walk this road of life not just together, but truly with each other.
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
On Community and Being the Needy One (alternate title: How Boobs Unite Us All)
Hello blogging world, it's been a while. True to form, I had a baby, and now I want to blog again. Apparently this is a pattern. Although, I don't plan on having more babies at this point, so I may have to figure something else out to keep this thing going.
Speaking of, I had a baby! Jude Denman Meador, our second son was born 5 days after his Christmas day due date on December 30. Even though he decided to have a late arrival, he thankfully came quickly, in just 6 hours! It's been a blur of sleepless nights, refluxy days and sweet baby cuddles...eventually I'll get around to sharing his birth story, because it's a good one.
After having our first son, I was a little blindsided by the world of motherhood. Meeting new friends is awkward enough once you're out of college - unless you work together, it can be really difficult to form new relationships in the 'real' world. Once you enter the world of motherhood, it goes to new levels of potential awkwardness. You all of a sudden have this 'thing' (by thing, I mean a child) in common with all of these other woman, many of whom you've barely talked to before or wouldn't, in your previous life, have necessarily been close with. But now you're desperate for someone, anyone who can understand what it is your life is like - how a day full of nothing but poop, laundry, spit up and more laundry can somehow be the most scary, dull, satisfying, horrifying and perfect day of your life, all at once. So you go from 'Hi, I'm Alisha, nice to meet you!' to talking about breasts, lack of sleep, wanting to drink wine at 11 am and even your nether-regions, in the span of oh...about 5 minutes. And then you feel strangely close to this new person, yet at the same time realizing you may have just frightened them away beyond the point of ever recovering.
If you haven't realized it yet, making 'mommy' friends isn't the most natural thing in the world, at least not for me. I've always had a pretty tight-knit group of friends (that has changed with life stages) and while I'm great at small-talk, haven't necessarily wanted - or NEEDED - to have more people in my life. In fact, I've always hated to be someone who needed anything. I'm self-sufficient! I can handle this!
But this motherhood thing changed that.
There are so many emotions, so many things changing, things that even some of your closest friends and your husband can't understand because they haven't been through it. And you realize that you need this community, this group of women who are so vastly different from one another, but have that one 'thing' (again, see: child) in common. After going through postpartum depression last time, I was acutely aware of this need during this pregnancy, and made sure to let friends and other moms know I needed this.
And you know what? It has been beautiful to watch.
From day one, I gave myself the freedom to say what I needed and to ask for help. I politely asked friends to not visit in the hospital, to give our family that initial bonding time. I asked my parents to wait a week to come, again, so we could have that family adjustment. But even during that time, I had some friends who were so intentional about every.day. texting me to see how I was doing. Not just a generic 'how's it going?' but a 'how are you emotionally?' and giving me permission to cry, or vent, or be angry or elated or whatever feelings I had in that crazy blur of after-birth hormones. I can't tell you how much those texts meant.
In the week or so after birth, for lack of a better phrase: shit got crazy. I had the worse case of mastitis in the history of mastitis (or darn close to it), that involved hospital visits and breast imaging and carting a newborn to way too many Dr. visits. It involved taking copious amounts of antibiotics and a baby developing reflux and me having to quit nursing and praying to God I didn't get another infection. We then passed the stomach flu around our family. Hooray. And while I would have loved to have NOT gone through all of that, I think one of the big reasons I did was to see community at work, in a real, tangible, no-frills way.
Neighbors who literally walked in our house and said 'Come on Graham!' and would take our oldest for 3 hours to play. Parents who understood if I needed time with just the baby, or by myself, and would send me upstairs to rest, read or binge-watch Netflix while nursing. A friend/amazing doula who constantly sent encouragement and comic relief in those first hard days. One who had experienced the hell that is mastitis and immediately brought every remedy they had and checked in daily. Friends who would pick up Graham from preschool and keep him for the afternoon. MOPS leaders who randomly dropped off coffee at my door, or small gifts for Graham. THE MEALS from so many people! Someone who took off work while I was sick and made soup, bought diapers that we were almost out of, and took our dirty laundry, literally. Another who literally jumped in her car at 9 pm and brought me her own son's medicine when I couldn't get Jude's Zantac prescription filled, and hugged me while I cried. (what? I mean, I don't share prescription drugs.)
And you know what facilitated a lot of this? Those awkward conversations. Going from zero to 60 in relationship terms. Boobs. Seriously, I had multiple people offer me breast pumps, ask specifically about the mastitis and how that was (which is literally saying, hey! how's your boob doing?), actually had a friend's husband deliver one pump while I was in the middle of nursing, and even had some friends' husbands ask if 'everything' was healing ok. But this time, it wasn't awkward, or weird, or clumsy. It was just beautiful, and I'm so thankful that I got out of my own way and, for once, was the needy one. Because being the needy one allowed so many wonderful people into my life. That, and the boobs.
Speaking of, I had a baby! Jude Denman Meador, our second son was born 5 days after his Christmas day due date on December 30. Even though he decided to have a late arrival, he thankfully came quickly, in just 6 hours! It's been a blur of sleepless nights, refluxy days and sweet baby cuddles...eventually I'll get around to sharing his birth story, because it's a good one.
After having our first son, I was a little blindsided by the world of motherhood. Meeting new friends is awkward enough once you're out of college - unless you work together, it can be really difficult to form new relationships in the 'real' world. Once you enter the world of motherhood, it goes to new levels of potential awkwardness. You all of a sudden have this 'thing' (by thing, I mean a child) in common with all of these other woman, many of whom you've barely talked to before or wouldn't, in your previous life, have necessarily been close with. But now you're desperate for someone, anyone who can understand what it is your life is like - how a day full of nothing but poop, laundry, spit up and more laundry can somehow be the most scary, dull, satisfying, horrifying and perfect day of your life, all at once. So you go from 'Hi, I'm Alisha, nice to meet you!' to talking about breasts, lack of sleep, wanting to drink wine at 11 am and even your nether-regions, in the span of oh...about 5 minutes. And then you feel strangely close to this new person, yet at the same time realizing you may have just frightened them away beyond the point of ever recovering.
If you haven't realized it yet, making 'mommy' friends isn't the most natural thing in the world, at least not for me. I've always had a pretty tight-knit group of friends (that has changed with life stages) and while I'm great at small-talk, haven't necessarily wanted - or NEEDED - to have more people in my life. In fact, I've always hated to be someone who needed anything. I'm self-sufficient! I can handle this!
But this motherhood thing changed that.
There are so many emotions, so many things changing, things that even some of your closest friends and your husband can't understand because they haven't been through it. And you realize that you need this community, this group of women who are so vastly different from one another, but have that one 'thing' (again, see: child) in common. After going through postpartum depression last time, I was acutely aware of this need during this pregnancy, and made sure to let friends and other moms know I needed this.
And you know what? It has been beautiful to watch.
From day one, I gave myself the freedom to say what I needed and to ask for help. I politely asked friends to not visit in the hospital, to give our family that initial bonding time. I asked my parents to wait a week to come, again, so we could have that family adjustment. But even during that time, I had some friends who were so intentional about every.day. texting me to see how I was doing. Not just a generic 'how's it going?' but a 'how are you emotionally?' and giving me permission to cry, or vent, or be angry or elated or whatever feelings I had in that crazy blur of after-birth hormones. I can't tell you how much those texts meant.
In the week or so after birth, for lack of a better phrase: shit got crazy. I had the worse case of mastitis in the history of mastitis (or darn close to it), that involved hospital visits and breast imaging and carting a newborn to way too many Dr. visits. It involved taking copious amounts of antibiotics and a baby developing reflux and me having to quit nursing and praying to God I didn't get another infection. We then passed the stomach flu around our family. Hooray. And while I would have loved to have NOT gone through all of that, I think one of the big reasons I did was to see community at work, in a real, tangible, no-frills way.
Neighbors who literally walked in our house and said 'Come on Graham!' and would take our oldest for 3 hours to play. Parents who understood if I needed time with just the baby, or by myself, and would send me upstairs to rest, read or binge-watch Netflix while nursing. A friend/amazing doula who constantly sent encouragement and comic relief in those first hard days. One who had experienced the hell that is mastitis and immediately brought every remedy they had and checked in daily. Friends who would pick up Graham from preschool and keep him for the afternoon. MOPS leaders who randomly dropped off coffee at my door, or small gifts for Graham. THE MEALS from so many people! Someone who took off work while I was sick and made soup, bought diapers that we were almost out of, and took our dirty laundry, literally. Another who literally jumped in her car at 9 pm and brought me her own son's medicine when I couldn't get Jude's Zantac prescription filled, and hugged me while I cried. (what? I mean, I don't share prescription drugs.)
And you know what facilitated a lot of this? Those awkward conversations. Going from zero to 60 in relationship terms. Boobs. Seriously, I had multiple people offer me breast pumps, ask specifically about the mastitis and how that was (which is literally saying, hey! how's your boob doing?), actually had a friend's husband deliver one pump while I was in the middle of nursing, and even had some friends' husbands ask if 'everything' was healing ok. But this time, it wasn't awkward, or weird, or clumsy. It was just beautiful, and I'm so thankful that I got out of my own way and, for once, was the needy one. Because being the needy one allowed so many wonderful people into my life. That, and the boobs.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
This Time
Getting pregnant does not come easily for me, for whatever reason. It took over a year with our first, and right at a year with this pregnancy. After that amount of time and an early miscarriage, we decided I should go to the doctor to make sure things were all looking 'normal'. And that's where I found out I was pregnant again. Just sitting in the midwife's office, waiting to discuss things with her; she came in, and said 'So, we ran the urine test, and it was positive!' It took me a minute to fully digest what that meant. It was so surreal - usually those kinds of things only happen in the movies, not real life. But there I was, being told that I was, most definitely, pregnant!
This time has been different from the start. It's almost as though my body needed permission to hear those words from the midwife to allow itself to acknowledge the changes taking place. And boy, did it ever. Exhaustion, nausea, aches and pains...I was a walking pregnancy textbook. I loved being pregnant the first time; this time, while just as excited, I was not, shall we say, enjoying it as much.
This time I don't feel every kick and move. It may have something to do with chasing a very energetic boy all over, I don't know. Some days I get to the end of the day and realize I haven't felt the baby move at all, so I sit very still just to be sure. And I always feel something, eventually. Last time, our son was constantly moving and kicking me hard. This time, there are little rolls here and pushes there, and the occasional light kick. I'm taking this as a sign we have a relaxed baby (or at least praying it to be true!!)
This time I'm nervous about labor in different ways, now that I've been through it once. Last time, I didn't know what to expect, which was both good and terribly frightening. This time, I know it hurts. A lot. I also know I can do it. (And I may cave and get an epidural. And that's OK.) Although if it was quick and painless I wouldn't object in the least.
This time, I'm aware of what a new baby will mean. Last time, I was utterly clueless, even though I'd read and studied what seemed like everything possible. (ha!) It will mean staying home for a while, staying in pajamas a lot, sleeping very little, and somehow still managing to function. This time I know that that stage will also pass quickly, and we'll settle into a new routine in time.
This time we will have a 3 year old and a new baby. I, again, am completely clueless in that area, so we'll have to learn a lot of things together.
This time, I understand the difference between the baby blues and postpartum depression. Last time, I didn't know what was wrong, except things just weren't right. This time I'm preparing ahead of time, knowing that postpartum has an increased likelihood after having had it once. I'm aware of my body, my hormones, and what I need to be able to be healthy and whole, and am not hesitant anymore to ask for help if I need it.
This time, I know things may not go as planned. Last time, I expected a birth plan to be followed, never to use pacifiers, to exclusively breastfeed, make all of our baby food and be a 'little TV' mom. This time, I learned births happen how they're going to happen, pacifiers are a brilliant invention, sometimes breastfeeding isn't possible, when you're in Target with a fussy baby grabbing that squeeze pouch and ripping it open is OK, and TV is a God-send - for both of you.
This time, I know what signs to look for in food allergies. Last time, when my baby was crying constantly and spitting up everything including blood, all sorts of things ran through my head. But we learned. We grew. This time, I'm not stressing about it. We'll feed how we have to - breast, bottle, pump, whatever is going to work for mama AND baby. And this time, there will be no guilt.
This time, I know myself more. Last time, I went from a hectic busy job and social calendar to being home with a baby and not knowing how to even fit in a shower anymore, in less than a week's time. This time, I know a new baby is overwhelming, so this time, I'm giving myself grace. Grace to not 'go', grace to not shower, grace to take things one day at a time.
This time, we are so, so blessed to be given charge over another life. Last time, we were so, so blessed to be given charge over another life. I'm reminded of that every day. Or night. When he doesn't sleep. Or in the bathroom when I need to pee. Or when I step on a toy car. Or find poop on his book. Or get the best kisses and snuggles in the whole world. Or read the same book for the 8th time in a row. Or wear my hair in a ponytail for day 33. Always, always reminded what a privilege this is.
This time has been different from the start. It's almost as though my body needed permission to hear those words from the midwife to allow itself to acknowledge the changes taking place. And boy, did it ever. Exhaustion, nausea, aches and pains...I was a walking pregnancy textbook. I loved being pregnant the first time; this time, while just as excited, I was not, shall we say, enjoying it as much.
This time I don't feel every kick and move. It may have something to do with chasing a very energetic boy all over, I don't know. Some days I get to the end of the day and realize I haven't felt the baby move at all, so I sit very still just to be sure. And I always feel something, eventually. Last time, our son was constantly moving and kicking me hard. This time, there are little rolls here and pushes there, and the occasional light kick. I'm taking this as a sign we have a relaxed baby (or at least praying it to be true!!)
This time I'm nervous about labor in different ways, now that I've been through it once. Last time, I didn't know what to expect, which was both good and terribly frightening. This time, I know it hurts. A lot. I also know I can do it. (And I may cave and get an epidural. And that's OK.) Although if it was quick and painless I wouldn't object in the least.
This time, I'm aware of what a new baby will mean. Last time, I was utterly clueless, even though I'd read and studied what seemed like everything possible. (ha!) It will mean staying home for a while, staying in pajamas a lot, sleeping very little, and somehow still managing to function. This time I know that that stage will also pass quickly, and we'll settle into a new routine in time.
This time we will have a 3 year old and a new baby. I, again, am completely clueless in that area, so we'll have to learn a lot of things together.
This time, I understand the difference between the baby blues and postpartum depression. Last time, I didn't know what was wrong, except things just weren't right. This time I'm preparing ahead of time, knowing that postpartum has an increased likelihood after having had it once. I'm aware of my body, my hormones, and what I need to be able to be healthy and whole, and am not hesitant anymore to ask for help if I need it.
This time, I know things may not go as planned. Last time, I expected a birth plan to be followed, never to use pacifiers, to exclusively breastfeed, make all of our baby food and be a 'little TV' mom. This time, I learned births happen how they're going to happen, pacifiers are a brilliant invention, sometimes breastfeeding isn't possible, when you're in Target with a fussy baby grabbing that squeeze pouch and ripping it open is OK, and TV is a God-send - for both of you.
This time, I know what signs to look for in food allergies. Last time, when my baby was crying constantly and spitting up everything including blood, all sorts of things ran through my head. But we learned. We grew. This time, I'm not stressing about it. We'll feed how we have to - breast, bottle, pump, whatever is going to work for mama AND baby. And this time, there will be no guilt.
This time, I know myself more. Last time, I went from a hectic busy job and social calendar to being home with a baby and not knowing how to even fit in a shower anymore, in less than a week's time. This time, I know a new baby is overwhelming, so this time, I'm giving myself grace. Grace to not 'go', grace to not shower, grace to take things one day at a time.
This time, we are so, so blessed to be given charge over another life. Last time, we were so, so blessed to be given charge over another life. I'm reminded of that every day. Or night. When he doesn't sleep. Or in the bathroom when I need to pee. Or when I step on a toy car. Or find poop on his book. Or get the best kisses and snuggles in the whole world. Or read the same book for the 8th time in a row. Or wear my hair in a ponytail for day 33. Always, always reminded what a privilege this is.
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Homesteading for Beginners: What I've Learned So Far!
So we're pretty new to this 'homesteading' thing. I did grow up in very rural environments - the largest town I lived in prior to Lynchburg was around 8,000 people or so; most of my childhood was spent in rural Iowa towns ranging from 1,000-3,000 people. There were lots of farms around, and we lived in the country ourselves a few times (although living 'in town' could really qualify as country too!) We had a garden, pets, my mom would hang laundry on the line, and we ate a lot of wild game in season: deer, pheasant, quail. My grandparents lived on a large farm where my grandpa grew corn and soybeans, and raised beef cattle, along with the occasional horse or goat; (Before I was born, my dad was a pig farmer) my great-grandfather still farmed on his land and had chickens and a large garden...so I'm familiar. I've even helped herd a loose cow or two, and gone 'mushroom huntin' in the spring, searching for the biggest Morel we could find (while splitting my pants climbing through a barbed wire fence).
But, ah...adolescence. When you want to be 'cool' and ignore all of that homey, down-to-earth stuff. We moved to a small town about an hour and a half from Chicago when I was 13, and I was much more engrossed in typical teenage stuff than anything to do with farming. I still enjoyed the outdoors, but never really thought about doing some homesteading myself. In fact, I can remember the first time I came home from college, and a friend told me I was all 'city' after being away at school (Lynchburgers would probably laugh at that). I took it as a compliment. Then, after a few years of marriage, home ownership, and one kid...I all of a sudden started missing how I grew up. I was tired of the fast pace we were living, the 'suburban' kind of life, always running, never staying long. I was surprised to learn that my husband (who grew up 25 miles outside of DC) felt exactly the same way! And thus our journey began...we have a lot to learn, but we're enjoying it! Here are some of the things I've learned so far:
1) If you plant it, they will grow. Usually. And usually with minimal effort. There are a ton of books and blogs about starting seeds and getting things to grow early or late or whatever. But to be honest, most of the seeds I tried to start early failed. When I waited til the weather and soil outside were actually ready for planting - surprise! - almost everything worked! We've gotten so used to eating foods whenever we want, it's hard to learn to wait for their proper season. But oh so worth it. (life lesson there? I think yes.)
2) Chickens are way easier than I thought they would be. I mean, really. The first couple of weeks were hard - having them in the house in a box and then training them to go in the coop. I'm sure the entire neighborhood watched and laughed each evening as we chased them around. But once you get past the learning curve, they're just about the easiest animal you could keep. AND they give you food, in 2 ways. (sorry ladies...one day.) I'm hooked.
3) You will make lots of new friends. I can't even begin to count how many people - mostly random strangers - have stopped to ask us about our chickens, our garden, where we got our clothesline...it's amazing. You'll also find more kindred spirits than you knew were around - we now know of 4 people within a 4 block radius that also have chickens!
4) It's not the same when you're in town. We have awesome neighbors and are so, so thankful for the neighborhood we live in. Could not ask for better people. But when you had in your head the idea of quiet country nights and being able to wander outside in whatever you happened to wear to bed and not wonder who may see you - yeah. Definitely not the same, especially when you're on a corner lot. In fact, you draw more people than before (see above). Definitely takes some mental adjustment.
5) Sometimes you don't want to do it. Like when you are tired. Or have a whining child. Or are pregnant and it's hot out. (see: most summer days) There are often times when I would love to just head out to feed the chickens when I feel like it, or not water the garden but sit on the porch instead. But that's part of the wonderful thing about it too. It instills discipline, and personal responsibility, which are two of the main reasons we wanted to start it while our kids are young. (again, life lessons.)
6) It's trial and error. We over planted some things, like lettuce. We under planted some things, like snap peas. Some things are just right, and there are new ways we'll probably do things next year. It's all a learning curve. I actually have a garden notebook so we can remember how we did it this year and make adjustments as we go!
7) It can be overwhelming. The more you get into 'homesteading', the more you find out there is! We could ferment foods! We could make our own butter! We can raise meat chickens! What about a goat? We're trying to take it one step at a time, and do what makes the most sense for us right now.
8) Having a 2 year old 'help' can be both fun and difficult. As can most things with a two year old. :) He loves to help water the garden, but also likes to water the same spot. Continually. He loves to help harvest vegetables - a little too much. I have to remind him that we can't pull carrots everyday, and we also can't pull up plants that need their roots right now, like beans or sweet potatoes. He loves 'his' chickens, but he also loves to chase them, which they do not love so much.
9) It's rewarding. Tonight for dinner, our salad and our side came mainly from our garden! Once the chickens start laying and we have some sweet potatoes and onions ready to harvest, we could literally have a whole meal just from our yard. That's kind of amazing.
10) It makes you appreciate where your food comes from. We were already really into healthy eating before, but are really learning to love getting what we can locally. Knowing how much time and work goes into raising an animal and processing it, or growing produce and harvesting and selling - not only does buying locally mean you get a fresh product, but it also means you get to know who and where it came from. When you begin to understand truly what it takes to care for something the way it is meant to be cared for, all of a sudden $15 or $20 for a chicken doesn't seem so bad!
11) Stewardship. Going along with the previous point; it makes you see the difference between just having something and actually caring for something. We want Graham to know that our food isn't something we just buy off a shelf, but that it's cultivated and cared for, and is something given to us by God. Taking part in that stewardship, we feel, is a good way to teach him that in all aspects of life: the things we have are gifts and to be cared for; not taken lightly. Our home, our friends, our family...it's also why we do things like recycle and pray before meals - acknowledging that God has given us these things and entrusted them to our care.
12) It's educational! And not just for the kids. I've learned more about different methods of chicken bedding, chicken feathers, chicken illness, and how to sex a chicken than I ever probably will need to know. I've also learned how and why certain things grow well together, when to plant, when to harvest, and how to rotate crops. And we just keep learning!
13) It forces slow. You can't hurry a tomato. If you pull up a carrot before it's ready, you just get an orange string. Chickens won't lay eggs at 6 weeks old. I'm not going to grow squash in December, and I have no idea what our sweet potatoes will be like until they're ready to harvest. It's a lot of waiting, a lot of patience, and a lot of anticipation. It's such a good reminder that life comes in seasons. Right now is a season of small children and sleepless nights and maybe not a lot of visible productivity or world changing, but one of little life molding and shaping. And soon enough, that season will end and we'll be on to another. But each one has to come when they're supposed to. Never before, never after.
That's it for now. We actually lost power a little bit ago so I'm writing this offline and will have to wait to publish til later! We're really homesteading it now - candles lit, phone needs charging...practically Amish, really. Maybe not, but I'm going to go enjoy the candle glow for a bit longer while it lasts.
But, ah...adolescence. When you want to be 'cool' and ignore all of that homey, down-to-earth stuff. We moved to a small town about an hour and a half from Chicago when I was 13, and I was much more engrossed in typical teenage stuff than anything to do with farming. I still enjoyed the outdoors, but never really thought about doing some homesteading myself. In fact, I can remember the first time I came home from college, and a friend told me I was all 'city' after being away at school (Lynchburgers would probably laugh at that). I took it as a compliment. Then, after a few years of marriage, home ownership, and one kid...I all of a sudden started missing how I grew up. I was tired of the fast pace we were living, the 'suburban' kind of life, always running, never staying long. I was surprised to learn that my husband (who grew up 25 miles outside of DC) felt exactly the same way! And thus our journey began...we have a lot to learn, but we're enjoying it! Here are some of the things I've learned so far:
1) If you plant it, they will grow. Usually. And usually with minimal effort. There are a ton of books and blogs about starting seeds and getting things to grow early or late or whatever. But to be honest, most of the seeds I tried to start early failed. When I waited til the weather and soil outside were actually ready for planting - surprise! - almost everything worked! We've gotten so used to eating foods whenever we want, it's hard to learn to wait for their proper season. But oh so worth it. (life lesson there? I think yes.)
2) Chickens are way easier than I thought they would be. I mean, really. The first couple of weeks were hard - having them in the house in a box and then training them to go in the coop. I'm sure the entire neighborhood watched and laughed each evening as we chased them around. But once you get past the learning curve, they're just about the easiest animal you could keep. AND they give you food, in 2 ways. (sorry ladies...one day.) I'm hooked.
3) You will make lots of new friends. I can't even begin to count how many people - mostly random strangers - have stopped to ask us about our chickens, our garden, where we got our clothesline...it's amazing. You'll also find more kindred spirits than you knew were around - we now know of 4 people within a 4 block radius that also have chickens!
4) It's not the same when you're in town. We have awesome neighbors and are so, so thankful for the neighborhood we live in. Could not ask for better people. But when you had in your head the idea of quiet country nights and being able to wander outside in whatever you happened to wear to bed and not wonder who may see you - yeah. Definitely not the same, especially when you're on a corner lot. In fact, you draw more people than before (see above). Definitely takes some mental adjustment.
5) Sometimes you don't want to do it. Like when you are tired. Or have a whining child. Or are pregnant and it's hot out. (see: most summer days) There are often times when I would love to just head out to feed the chickens when I feel like it, or not water the garden but sit on the porch instead. But that's part of the wonderful thing about it too. It instills discipline, and personal responsibility, which are two of the main reasons we wanted to start it while our kids are young. (again, life lessons.)
6) It's trial and error. We over planted some things, like lettuce. We under planted some things, like snap peas. Some things are just right, and there are new ways we'll probably do things next year. It's all a learning curve. I actually have a garden notebook so we can remember how we did it this year and make adjustments as we go!
7) It can be overwhelming. The more you get into 'homesteading', the more you find out there is! We could ferment foods! We could make our own butter! We can raise meat chickens! What about a goat? We're trying to take it one step at a time, and do what makes the most sense for us right now.
8) Having a 2 year old 'help' can be both fun and difficult. As can most things with a two year old. :) He loves to help water the garden, but also likes to water the same spot. Continually. He loves to help harvest vegetables - a little too much. I have to remind him that we can't pull carrots everyday, and we also can't pull up plants that need their roots right now, like beans or sweet potatoes. He loves 'his' chickens, but he also loves to chase them, which they do not love so much.
9) It's rewarding. Tonight for dinner, our salad and our side came mainly from our garden! Once the chickens start laying and we have some sweet potatoes and onions ready to harvest, we could literally have a whole meal just from our yard. That's kind of amazing.
10) It makes you appreciate where your food comes from. We were already really into healthy eating before, but are really learning to love getting what we can locally. Knowing how much time and work goes into raising an animal and processing it, or growing produce and harvesting and selling - not only does buying locally mean you get a fresh product, but it also means you get to know who and where it came from. When you begin to understand truly what it takes to care for something the way it is meant to be cared for, all of a sudden $15 or $20 for a chicken doesn't seem so bad!
11) Stewardship. Going along with the previous point; it makes you see the difference between just having something and actually caring for something. We want Graham to know that our food isn't something we just buy off a shelf, but that it's cultivated and cared for, and is something given to us by God. Taking part in that stewardship, we feel, is a good way to teach him that in all aspects of life: the things we have are gifts and to be cared for; not taken lightly. Our home, our friends, our family...it's also why we do things like recycle and pray before meals - acknowledging that God has given us these things and entrusted them to our care.
12) It's educational! And not just for the kids. I've learned more about different methods of chicken bedding, chicken feathers, chicken illness, and how to sex a chicken than I ever probably will need to know. I've also learned how and why certain things grow well together, when to plant, when to harvest, and how to rotate crops. And we just keep learning!
13) It forces slow. You can't hurry a tomato. If you pull up a carrot before it's ready, you just get an orange string. Chickens won't lay eggs at 6 weeks old. I'm not going to grow squash in December, and I have no idea what our sweet potatoes will be like until they're ready to harvest. It's a lot of waiting, a lot of patience, and a lot of anticipation. It's such a good reminder that life comes in seasons. Right now is a season of small children and sleepless nights and maybe not a lot of visible productivity or world changing, but one of little life molding and shaping. And soon enough, that season will end and we'll be on to another. But each one has to come when they're supposed to. Never before, never after.
That's it for now. We actually lost power a little bit ago so I'm writing this offline and will have to wait to publish til later! We're really homesteading it now - candles lit, phone needs charging...practically Amish, really. Maybe not, but I'm going to go enjoy the candle glow for a bit longer while it lasts.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Changes
A lot has happened since my last post - namely, we're pregnant! I will be in my second trimester next week - hallelujah! I am far more sick this time than I ever was with Graham, and I am praying the sickness subsides soon. However, I am trying to remind myself to be grateful for every nauseating afternoon, as it means this little Monkey (the name Graham has chosen) is growing!
We had what is known in medical terms as a 'chemical pregnancy' in March, which basically means a very early miscarriage - ours was between 4-5 weeks pregnant. It was a really difficult time for a few weeks - grieving a loss we never fully even felt. Almost as soon as we realized I was pregnant, we miscarried. I think I am still processing it in some ways. We had no idea we were pregnant again the following month - we just thought I should go and get everything checked out at the doctor. We were shocked, to put it mildly. I think we both re-went through the grieving process after finding out we were pregnant again, and, I'll be honest, the first few weeks of this pregnancy I was pretty nervous. We'd been trying for a year to have another baby, so the emotional ups and downs of the last few months (combined with all the hormonal changes!) have been draining.
After finding out about the pregnancy, Jim and I were talking and realized just how much of a roller coaster life has been for the last few months. It kept frustrating me that I couldn't ever quite feel like we had a good routine down or a new 'normal' after quitting work - and it's no surprise. Here's a snippet:
September: Quit my job of 7 years, have home for sale, planning to move 1000 miles away.
October: 2 week visit to Iowa (planned location of move), start 'stay at home mom life'
November: Graham starts having severe reactions again; 2 year old birthday party, referral to a pediatric gastroenterologist, hosting Thanksgiving, house that never sold comes off the market
December: Gastroenterologist appointment, allergist appointment, lots of bloodwork, diagnosis of FPIES, 20 hour road trip to Iowa, Jim's job becomes very unstable due to regulation changes
January: A week of the flu, Jim barely has any hours, I get a concussion and am out of commission for 2 weeks, Jim starts his second Master's degree so he can get his LPC
February: Jim's gets a 'new' position that is far more stable, we decide we are staying in Lynchburg, build a garden to start our little homestead here
March: We get chickens, find out we're pregnant, then miscarry
April: Start Graham on new supplementation for 'leaky gut', I start a new job (one case of family coaching), officially start our garden, find out we are pregnant again!
I write that out more for me to remember than anything, so I apologize if I you are now bored out of your skull. But, seriously. It's been a heck of a time the past few months. We keep joking that whatever God wants us to learn we'd like to have it all learned for a while now. :)
I've been learning a lot about mom life, but also just about me, us as a family, and what's important to us. Some of those things are intentionality in our family time, taking care of our home and what has been entrusted to us, building community (which we have been having a great time getting to know our wonderful neighbors!), and (I feel like a broken record) living life more slowly.
The older Graham gets, the more fond memories I have of my childhood - which, at the time, I thought was boring at times (sorry mom); but I've realized how valuable that time was. There are things we do differently - we travel a lot more and have Graham experience a lot more culture, which were two things I didn't do a lot of and want him to experience from a young age. But, we didn't do lots of exciting things, we didn't have playdates all the time or run to 15 different stores (because we didn't have them maybe, ha!), we played outside or used our imaginations to create fictional worlds of Legos and Barbies, and we had a few close friends. And that was it. And we're realizing we want that not only for Graham, but for ourselves too. Living in Lynchburg since college, it's easy to get stuck in the 'college life' mindset, of always going, always doing, always being with everyone at everything. With kids, that's near impossible, but it's also not practical. Life isn't always exciting and sometimes the everyday can be the best part.
Anyways, I'm rambling. I say all of that partly to note that I changed the URL and name of my blog. The URL is now just my name, and the 'title' if you will is 'Back to My Roots'. I think this gives a bit more freedom for me to just talk about life - homesteading, marriage, friends, church, politics (because you know I can't not), and mom life.
So, here's to the next crazy few months, and then we'll have a newborn! I'm beginning to wonder if our 'routine' is 'don't count on one. Ever.' :)
We had what is known in medical terms as a 'chemical pregnancy' in March, which basically means a very early miscarriage - ours was between 4-5 weeks pregnant. It was a really difficult time for a few weeks - grieving a loss we never fully even felt. Almost as soon as we realized I was pregnant, we miscarried. I think I am still processing it in some ways. We had no idea we were pregnant again the following month - we just thought I should go and get everything checked out at the doctor. We were shocked, to put it mildly. I think we both re-went through the grieving process after finding out we were pregnant again, and, I'll be honest, the first few weeks of this pregnancy I was pretty nervous. We'd been trying for a year to have another baby, so the emotional ups and downs of the last few months (combined with all the hormonal changes!) have been draining.
After finding out about the pregnancy, Jim and I were talking and realized just how much of a roller coaster life has been for the last few months. It kept frustrating me that I couldn't ever quite feel like we had a good routine down or a new 'normal' after quitting work - and it's no surprise. Here's a snippet:
September: Quit my job of 7 years, have home for sale, planning to move 1000 miles away.
October: 2 week visit to Iowa (planned location of move), start 'stay at home mom life'
November: Graham starts having severe reactions again; 2 year old birthday party, referral to a pediatric gastroenterologist, hosting Thanksgiving, house that never sold comes off the market
December: Gastroenterologist appointment, allergist appointment, lots of bloodwork, diagnosis of FPIES, 20 hour road trip to Iowa, Jim's job becomes very unstable due to regulation changes
January: A week of the flu, Jim barely has any hours, I get a concussion and am out of commission for 2 weeks, Jim starts his second Master's degree so he can get his LPC
February: Jim's gets a 'new' position that is far more stable, we decide we are staying in Lynchburg, build a garden to start our little homestead here
March: We get chickens, find out we're pregnant, then miscarry
April: Start Graham on new supplementation for 'leaky gut', I start a new job (one case of family coaching), officially start our garden, find out we are pregnant again!
I write that out more for me to remember than anything, so I apologize if I you are now bored out of your skull. But, seriously. It's been a heck of a time the past few months. We keep joking that whatever God wants us to learn we'd like to have it all learned for a while now. :)
I've been learning a lot about mom life, but also just about me, us as a family, and what's important to us. Some of those things are intentionality in our family time, taking care of our home and what has been entrusted to us, building community (which we have been having a great time getting to know our wonderful neighbors!), and (I feel like a broken record) living life more slowly.
The older Graham gets, the more fond memories I have of my childhood - which, at the time, I thought was boring at times (sorry mom); but I've realized how valuable that time was. There are things we do differently - we travel a lot more and have Graham experience a lot more culture, which were two things I didn't do a lot of and want him to experience from a young age. But, we didn't do lots of exciting things, we didn't have playdates all the time or run to 15 different stores (because we didn't have them maybe, ha!), we played outside or used our imaginations to create fictional worlds of Legos and Barbies, and we had a few close friends. And that was it. And we're realizing we want that not only for Graham, but for ourselves too. Living in Lynchburg since college, it's easy to get stuck in the 'college life' mindset, of always going, always doing, always being with everyone at everything. With kids, that's near impossible, but it's also not practical. Life isn't always exciting and sometimes the everyday can be the best part.
Anyways, I'm rambling. I say all of that partly to note that I changed the URL and name of my blog. The URL is now just my name, and the 'title' if you will is 'Back to My Roots'. I think this gives a bit more freedom for me to just talk about life - homesteading, marriage, friends, church, politics (because you know I can't not), and mom life.
So, here's to the next crazy few months, and then we'll have a newborn! I'm beginning to wonder if our 'routine' is 'don't count on one. Ever.' :)
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Where We Are
I've been on a thinking kick lately, which means a writing slump. A lot of people have to write to get their thoughts out, but I have to think and think and think and then write. I don't know why. It's just how my brain works.
Since my 2-week stint in bed with a concussion at the beginning of this year, I have been learning a lot about slowing down, being intentional and what living actually looks like. I know, those are all almost cliches at this point; every time you turn around there's a new book or blog post about living in the moment and savoring the now. But I think that's because there are so many of us that are searching for that 'perfect' formula of enjoying where we are, when we are there. If it wasn't a common struggle, it wouldn't be selling like it is.
While intentionality can be applied to so many areas, I've been pondering it in my current roles of 'mom' and 'homemaker'. I keep seeing the quote 'Wherever you are, be all there'. It's all over Pinterest in cute fonts and chalkboard prints. The quote is from Jim Elliot, a missionary who was killed by the people he was called to serve. When I Googled (I love that that's a verb) the quote, I found that it's only half of what he said. Here's the whole thing:
Since my 2-week stint in bed with a concussion at the beginning of this year, I have been learning a lot about slowing down, being intentional and what living actually looks like. I know, those are all almost cliches at this point; every time you turn around there's a new book or blog post about living in the moment and savoring the now. But I think that's because there are so many of us that are searching for that 'perfect' formula of enjoying where we are, when we are there. If it wasn't a common struggle, it wouldn't be selling like it is.
While intentionality can be applied to so many areas, I've been pondering it in my current roles of 'mom' and 'homemaker'. I keep seeing the quote 'Wherever you are, be all there'. It's all over Pinterest in cute fonts and chalkboard prints. The quote is from Jim Elliot, a missionary who was killed by the people he was called to serve. When I Googled (I love that that's a verb) the quote, I found that it's only half of what he said. Here's the whole thing:
“Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.”
Interesting. I've seen the phrase used to remind us to focus on the present, be in the moment. But I've never seen the last half of it. I think that the last half may be more important that the first. It's more than just 'being all there' in whatever you're doing. It's realizing that 'where you are', if, in fact, you believe it truly is where God wants you to be, should have all of yourself poured into it. We were made to bring God glory (or, as Graham says when saying his Catechism: 'to gwoify God'), and it would then make sense to live life to the full where.we.are.
This has been a hard thing for me the past few months. I quit my job in preparation for moving halfway across the country, to be close to family and live a slower pace of life. But, God had other plans. It took a while for me to realize that maybe all of that was more of a push to get us to do those things here. Where we are. Slow down. Focus on family. Be OK with staying home. Not run everywhere all the time. Not spread ourselves so thin. Be OK with saying no. Raise some chickens. We don't have to be in Iowa, we don't even have to be in the county to do those things.
It's been a hard thing to do. I've had weeks that I packed so full that I was barely home (stay-at-home mom can easily mean 'We fill our days outside of the home because it's easier', or, at least for me it can). Part of me was running from home, because it wasn't what I planned and, honestly, the monotony of dishes and laundry and 'Mommy come pway twains with me!' can be as mind-dulling as it is simultaneously exhausting. It's very hard some days to feel like it matters, especially compared to the tangible ways I could see my days mattering when I worked in the human services field. When most of your day has consisted of cleaning, cooking, cleaning after cooking, and trying to pretend you have an imagination that matches your two year old's while you're really thinking of all the things you could be doing instead, it's hard to see the value in what you did that day.
That's a hard thing to do in our culture. Our need for the next best thing, or even to 'live life to the full' may cause us to feel like our current situation isn't doing that. Rather than choosing to see that maybe this, this where we are is where we can fully live, we choose to think 'if only' that it would then be full. We try to fill our lives so we can be 'all there' in what seems the ideal, rather than being 'all there' where we are and letting that fill us.
So I'm finding that my 'being all there' doesn't have to necessarily be grandiose or even have tangible progress at the end of the day. Because if this - this 'just being a mom' - is where I'm supposed to be right now, then I will be the most satisfied, and most fulfill my role, when I am all in. Where I am. And as time goes and seasons change, different opportunities will arise, new phases of life will come. And as they do, big or small, I am seeing that where we are is without a doubt, always, the best place to be.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
On Friends
Seriously have to get better about blogging more often. I say this at least 3 times/year. Maybe it will stick one of these times. I digress...
This is a short post in honor of friends. Good friends. Friends you can count on no matter what. Through marriages, children, moves, great times and hard times, they're still there. The ones that can text you about when their kid finally has a normal poop and know that you're both going to be so excited about it. Or the ones that you live far away from but know that they can call you when something's wrong, or that you can send a random text to and they just get it, and you pick up right where you left off. The friends that you ended up with because your husbands were best friends, and all of a sudden you are too.
The ones that you see three times a week and share mom life with. The ones that you see every few weeks and share non-mom life with. The ones that love your kids like their own and you take turns giving hugs and kisses and reprimands and 'do you need a time out's' and it's all just in stride because you know you love each other and your kids and you're doing this whole parenting thing together. When your marriage isn't doing well and they know it's OK to ask you about it. When they're stressed and life is crazy and they need to vent and you sit for 3 hours at a Mexican restaurant and just hash it out. When you can say 'Praise the Lord!' and 'life is shitty' in the same breath and they completely understand.
I have a good friend getting married, and have had multiple friends with hard marriages. I have a best friend moving away soon, and I'm still going to be here. I have friends that I am growing with, and friends that our relationships have changed over the years, as we have changed.
I have friends. Great ones. Ones that I don't know where I would be without them. Sometimes I categorize them: the Fab Five. Small Group. Moms. Far-away friends. But really? I am so, so thankful for all of them. Walking through life with people isn't something to be taken for granted, and each and every one of them is so dear to me.
So, as I lie in bed with a sudden case of some flu-like ick, I wanted to take 5 minutes away from binge-watching Parenthood to write this. Because I had a girls night with some of them last night. And MOPS with some of them this morning. And a couple of those friends at my house today, who knew it was OK to stay all afternoon even if I had to go lie down. Who knew that our home is their home and our boys are going to grow up together, wherever we live. Who have seen us at our very worst and our very best, our ugly cries and our joyous shouts.
To all my friends: I am so grateful for you.
Also, Katie, please don't leave. Thanks. :)
This is a short post in honor of friends. Good friends. Friends you can count on no matter what. Through marriages, children, moves, great times and hard times, they're still there. The ones that can text you about when their kid finally has a normal poop and know that you're both going to be so excited about it. Or the ones that you live far away from but know that they can call you when something's wrong, or that you can send a random text to and they just get it, and you pick up right where you left off. The friends that you ended up with because your husbands were best friends, and all of a sudden you are too.
The ones that you see three times a week and share mom life with. The ones that you see every few weeks and share non-mom life with. The ones that love your kids like their own and you take turns giving hugs and kisses and reprimands and 'do you need a time out's' and it's all just in stride because you know you love each other and your kids and you're doing this whole parenting thing together. When your marriage isn't doing well and they know it's OK to ask you about it. When they're stressed and life is crazy and they need to vent and you sit for 3 hours at a Mexican restaurant and just hash it out. When you can say 'Praise the Lord!' and 'life is shitty' in the same breath and they completely understand.
I have a good friend getting married, and have had multiple friends with hard marriages. I have a best friend moving away soon, and I'm still going to be here. I have friends that I am growing with, and friends that our relationships have changed over the years, as we have changed.
I have friends. Great ones. Ones that I don't know where I would be without them. Sometimes I categorize them: the Fab Five. Small Group. Moms. Far-away friends. But really? I am so, so thankful for all of them. Walking through life with people isn't something to be taken for granted, and each and every one of them is so dear to me.
So, as I lie in bed with a sudden case of some flu-like ick, I wanted to take 5 minutes away from binge-watching Parenthood to write this. Because I had a girls night with some of them last night. And MOPS with some of them this morning. And a couple of those friends at my house today, who knew it was OK to stay all afternoon even if I had to go lie down. Who knew that our home is their home and our boys are going to grow up together, wherever we live. Who have seen us at our very worst and our very best, our ugly cries and our joyous shouts.
To all my friends: I am so grateful for you.
Also, Katie, please don't leave. Thanks. :)
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