Soapbox? Maybe.

So I stumbled upon this picture that has been going around the interwebs:

At first look, it's kind of humorous, and I get where they (whoever they are) were going with it: we in Western American society are spoiled, used to comfort, and NOT used to having to give up our personal time/space for others. We (generally speaking) get to do what we want, when we want it. Unlike the woman in the right side of the picture, whose day does not stop because she has a baby she needs to feed. I am sure there are some valuable life lessons to be learned from this woman.

However, on second glance (or, in my case, about 2 seconds after I read the captions), this picture didn't seem so funny. In fact, it kind of made me mad. Because I've been the woman who has thought things like "people are just too lazy to breastfeed" and "you're not doing what's best for your baby". Then this and this happened. And I did something fascinating, I grew. I learned. And I know I'm only 15 months in and have a ton to still learn, but can we please just stop this? The taunting, the arguing, the fact-throwing-around, the 'research proves' discussions. Because they're not doing anyone any good.

Let's back up a little. If you know me at all, you know I am a wee bit on the 'earthy' side of life. Organic foods, natural living (having a chicken coop is on my bucket list), amber teething necklaces, the less medicine the better...you get it. So, when I was pregnant, the thought of using formula never even occurred to me. When Graham was struggling with breastfeeding in the hospital and the nurses were suggesting formula, I was offended, angry even. (OK, I still am a little bit annoyed at how they handled it - tactful wouldn't be a word I would use to describe some of them) But, here we are, over a year later and our lives are incredibly, wonderfully better thanks to a little thing called Alimentum. If Similac decides to pay me for this, I won't object. Just saying.

As if the decision to stop breastfeeding wasn't hard enough for me, I first tried to use the most hypoallergenic, GMO-free formula available, and Graham would have none of it. So we had to get the big name brand, non-organic, hormone-laden hydrolyzed formula, and it was (more literally than figuratively) a life-saver. It's as though God was saying 'Hey, you say you trust Me, you say I'm sovereign, let's test that out a little.' And sure, Graham's had some sickness here and there, but nothing major, nothing as bad as how sick he was when I was breastfeeding him, and he is one of the happiest little boys I've ever seen (no credit to us - his personality just kind of rocks).

There's the side of me, maybe of you (all 20 of you reading this) that says "Oh, but you had extenuating circumstances. That's understandable." What I've come to realize is that 'extenuating circumstances' could mean a plethora of things. It could mean a mom with postpartum depression. It could mean low supply. It could mean going back to work and not being able to keep up with it all. It could mean personality. I could mean 'this just isn't for me'. It could mean lots of things. What it doesn't mean, is that there is any reason to tout one mom as better than another for the way she takes care of her baby. The key is that she is taking care of her baby. Period.

I know it's a never-ending debate, because, well - combine woman with hormones and you're bound for some drama. But I'm already tired of it, and I've barely been in it. Because what we should be doing is encouraging one another, seeing that we're all cared for, loved on and given information about every option, without pushing an agenda. Maybe letting moms think for themselves and letting them trust that motherly instinct. Don't get me wrong - I'm thankful for all the literature and research (I'm a nerd. Google is what I do), and I look things up all the time. But it's not like we walk up the tired mom in the grocery store buying store brand microwave mac and cheese and say "Organic is best." More than likely, we say "I feel ya sister, one of those nights." Would anyone argue that, given an ideal situation, that something else would be more nutritious? No. But not every situation is ideal, in fact, in one way or another, none of ours is.

So, next time we see a woman with her baby, can we forget the labels? No 'attachment parenting' or 'baby wearing' or 'bottle' or 'breast'. No 'kid with a leash' or 'working mom' or 'SAHM'. Just 'mom', and a beautiful one at that.

Who's Teaching Whom?

The moment I found out I was pregnant, I was filled with such a mix of emotions: joy, fear, anxiety, excitement. (or was that the nausea?) I had the sense that something big was happening to me, and not just in the form of my expanding middle.

It was like a knowing, a knowing that motherhood - especially first time motherhood - changes one in ways that aren't even fathomable, until they've happened. You pause, look back, and think "Whoa. When did that happen?"

It's been over a year now, since I started on this mothering journey, and the person I am today is in many ways a very different person than the one who was expecting that little baby. In some ways, I am very much the same, but I think I've grown in those 'same' areas too. I was thinking today about the things I have learned thus far, how I've grown, what I've discovered, and I was amazed and humbled. I wanted to reflect on them, to dissect them, so that's what I'm doing here. I do love a good list!

1. I'm less judgmental. Ironically, before becoming a mother I was one of the least judgmental people I knew, or so I thought. But we all have our ideas of what is best, what is 'good', based on our personal lifestyle choices and preferences, and, I've realized, we all tend to judge people based on how they compare to our 'norm'. This is especially true in relation to mothering and parenting choices. I am a bit of an earthy/crunchy/organic nut, and was 100% on board with the 'Breast is Best!" campaign. Pre-baby (and even right after birth) it was all "no pacis!" and "exclusive breastfeeding!" and then we had a baby with reflux and food intolerances. And a mommy with depression. And I realized, there is so much more involved in 'health and well-being' - it includes mental and emotional health too, because that baby may not get sick as often, but if mommy is emotionally gone, well, that's probably a bit more harmful in the long-run. For the next time around (Lord-willing), I'm all "give that baby a plug!" and "breastfeeding? pumping? formula? Whatever works, works."

2. I'm more emotional - in a good way. I've always been someone who just sucks it up, gets it done, deals with it, and moves on. Not so anymore. I was a basket case for a while, then after some good counseling and hormones leveling out, I am only occasionally a basket case. :) What I am, permanently, is more in touch with not only feelings in general, but the reasons behind them. And ultimately, through God's grace, tracing those feelings, good, bad, ugly or in between, back to the Author of life, and dealing with them appropriately. It's a novel idea for me, not just pushing past things, but actually thinking through them, growing through them, and stopping to acknowledge that life isn't always picture-perfect, that it's actually really messy, but it's OK.

3. Possibly in relation to number 2, but I have turned into much more of an introvert. This will come as a shock, mostly to my parents. :) I was the girl in high school and college who was never home. I loved home, I loved my family, but hey, there were things to do, places to go, and people to see! And that part of me is still there, but I think it's taking a back seat for now. I'm strangely alright with that. I still love to travel, and have a running list (shocking - a list) of places I want to go in the near future (NYC again SOON please), and some long-term goals (Ireland: 10th anniversary??). There are days, days where I want to just run free and go explore. But right now, I'm pretty content most days with our small-ish life. I'm realizing that God can use a 'small' season of life to have big impact and invest more in specific people. 

4. My style. I was one that has always gravitated toward more classic things, but would try out the latest trends now and then. My closet was pretty full of random stuff, some that fit together, some that didn't. Lots of work wear. When I have precious little minutes to ready myself for the day, I want those minutes to be productive and end in a good result (read: comfortable, yet cute outfit), and not staring at my closet for those minutes then realizing, crap. It's ___time, so forget looking presentable today. I do enjoy getting dressed up, but I've realized that I no longer long to be 'dressed up' everyday. Spit up and poop will do that to you. It forces you to really analyze everything in your closet, and how it fits into your life, and kind of forces a style on you. I haven't totally figured out 'my style' but it's getting there (hair, you are another story...you will forever be my daily struggle of "What the hell is happening with this?!")

5. Career isn't everything. I think that's how we as a society tend to define ourselves: by what we do. We had a training at work yesterday, for assistive technology in the workplace, and the trainer was discussing this very thing. Usually, when you meet someone it's: Hi! Introduce yourself, then the question "And what do you do?"

For me personally, I love my career field, and was pretty excited about future endeavors. I get a little high from corporate meetings or serving on state budget subcommittees. I've been blessed to know a lot of great people working in this field, many of which are in higher-level positions. I was in the midst of getting my Master's (which I want to finish) and developing a pilot study for a state department, serving on a state committee, networking all the time...then I had a baby. And my priorities, my views, my world - they changed. Do I still enjoy those things? Yes. Do I still hope to be more involved, especially in the political world of disability rights and such? Yes. But not right now. Right now I want to focus on my family, doing my daily, regular job duties well, and if I miss a big meeting because I have a sick baby, well, good. Because corporate ladders and politics and whatnot can wait. And they may wait forever. My baby won't.

6. I'm learning (and this is a big L learning) how to truly find joy and thankfulness for even the most mundane things. Before having a baby, if I had a day off I would do things like deep-clean my house and turn on Pride and Prejudice, maybe go grab a coffee and then do some gardening. But that was also when I could go out whenever I wanted, hang out with friends, go see a movie any night of the week...so those home-y things were still a little like playing house.

Now, when most of my days are either spent working or taking care of a toddler, and my home life seems to revolve around things like cleaning, and laundry, and meals, all of a sudden those things weren't as 'fun' anymore, or as relaxing as they used to be. Now I struggle with contentment in those things, in remembering that they are indeed privileges. Those are things little 5-year-old me dreamed of when I would play house, take care of my dolls and say "I want to be a mommy when I grow up!" I think little 5 year old me had a better handle on what 'meaningful' really is than 27 year old me does some days. :)

7. Who AM I? One goes through stages in life: middle/high school awkward years of figuring yourself out (ish); college pressure of "which direction will you go?!", marriage and learning to live with and do life with another person. But then baby. Oh, baby. How you have forced me to take everything I've thought, everything I've known, and flip it around and upside down and inside out. I've realized how much of my identity has relied in others' opinions, in career, in 'natural' living, etc.

And even now, how much of it can get tied up in 'mommyhood': being a 'good' mom, playing with my child enough, or being friends with the 'cool' moms (they're there, you know they are - I always feel like the awkward kid with braces: Hey guysth! (with a lisp) Can I play with you too?). All of these contribute to who I am, sure, but all of these things, including Graham, could be stripped away from me. And if that were to happen, and those were all taken away, who would I be? Because that's really me. That's been a hard, scary thing to sort through, and I'm not even close to being there. But one thing I do know, is that unless I rest secure in Christ - that He has called me, He has given me grace undeserved and I am a great sinner undeserving of any of these good gifts - until I rest in daily gratefulness and joy in those good gifts - I'll never know the real me.

And I think I'll end there, because that's where I am right now, still figuring out 'me'. Goodness little one, you've barely been here a year and have already taught me so much! I can only imagine the growing yet to come.

Time

Time. It’s such an interesting little thing, that time; such a fluid concept. People always say it goes by more quickly the older you get, and it really does seem like that is true. But we haven’t lost any hours in the day, so what happens? 

We grow up. When I was a kid, I didn’t have to worry about whether I remembered to send this month’s electric bill, or take care of a budget, or provide food for my family, and cook it, and clean up after it, and go to work, and. and. and.  you get the point. Sure, I had school, and chores, but the majority of my time was spent doing what I wanted to do – like play Barbie’s and roller skate, you know, the important things. Even in college, while I had the added responsibility of part-time jobs, and more intense classwork, most of my time was still me-focused. I could choose when and where and how I wanted to spend it, and I’m realizing, that makes time seem so much longer.

I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately because it hits me at random times. I see someone out running at 11:00 am on a weekday, and wonder “Why don’t I run then? That looks like a gorgeous time of day!” Then I realize, if I leave for a run at 11, my son will want to eat lunch within the next 20 minutes, and will then be ready for a nap shortly thereafter. And if I tried to say "Oh well, I want to run now, so that's what I'm going to do!" I would face the consequences. Consequences that equal the equivalent of Armageddon in baby-world. Oh. THAT’s why I don’t run then. All fo that to say...these random epiphanies have caused me to start thinking about my concept of time, and why it seems that time does indeed move much more swiftly than it used to. And this is my conclusion:

I no longer wake up generally planning out my day, fluidly moving through it as I choose, rather, I think in: breakfast time; play time; lunch time; nap time; snack time; dinner time; bed time.

While there is a lot that happens in between those times, as soon as one is done, I mentally calculate how long til the next one so we can plan accordingly. A morning out? That requires enough planning for at least 2 snack times, a possible early lunch, 2 possible diaper changes, a sippy cup, etc. etc. (my child is a bottomless pit, I tell you!) Evening plans out? That involves: can we do dinner early enough to be home in time for a usual bedtime? If not, how far are we willing to push back bedtime before a meltdown occurs? Do we have plans tomorrow? If so, late bedtime=possible crap night of sleep=possible looong day tomorrow. Is it worth it?

Marriage gives you a little glimmer into the world of 'my time is not my own', but nothing quite so much as parenthood. Your 'me' time is often very small, and can be a mental battle of doing the responsible thing like possibly cleaning that bathtub that you know hasn't been touched in months (we use soap to wash, it gets clean from that, right?), or just relaxing, reading a book, and having a little wine. Rarely are there totally 'carefree' moments anymore. And nothing hurries your time along like realizing you don't own it.

I was talking to a single friend the other day, who let me know of the crazy spontaneous New Years' Eve they were able to have, that involved a last-minute road trip and celebrating the New Year in another state with a bunch of friends. Time? It was all theirs. My New Year involved having 2 lovely couples over to our house (after bedtime), eating appetizers and mixing drinks, a baby that joined the party around 9 pm because, hey, it's rude to party without him, and us barely making it til midnight awake. The funny thing was, as we exchanged stories and laughed at how totally different they were, I realized something. I was completely, utterly content with the New Year we had, and wasn't jealous of theirs. At all. 

Maybe that means I'm old. Maybe it means I'm boring. Or maybe it just means that this new concept of time - this trying to slow down the ever-speeding train and just enjoy the every day - isn't such a bad thing after all.

The Art of Distraction

I'm sitting down to write a blog post on distraction, and so far I've checked two other blogs, Facebook, and am trying to find the right music on Pandora. Yep, pretty sure I've got this 'art' down to a science.

It's funny how we (or I, at least) like to call this 'multi-tasking'. I can do 10 things all at once, look at me go! But then I have this strange desire to live more simply - to slow down, enjoy each moment, be thankful for everything. It's hard to do that when 'everything' means not actually stopping to focus on any one thing for more than a few short seconds.

I'm not sure when life started to get like this; I definitely think the social-media age has a lot to do with it. We can tell the world what we're thinking, feeling, seeing, doing, at any hour of the day in an instant. And we can find out the same from others. Email provides us with a way to communicate quickly and efficiently from our computers, phones, tablets, etc. without having to actually talk to people, and - God forbid - engage in conversation. Don't get me wrong, these technological advances can be blessings, but goodness knows they are easily abused.

I like being able to be so connected. It's such a cool thing to be able to see what's happening in my friends' lives that live thousands of miles away, or to see that other people get how I'm feeling, via the validation of a 'liked' status - you don't feel alone.

But back to that craving of simplicity. I'm not the only one. It's everywhere. Look on Pinterest, (since we're all on there right now anyway): 'Stop the glorification of busy' and quotes by Mary Oliver: 'What are you going to do with your one wild and precious life?' are re-pinned countless times a day, I'd wager. Ironically, I'm pretty sure Ms. Oliver wouldn't have answered her question with: "I'm going to pin things!"

This has been on my mind a lot lately because I find myself consistently gravitating towards distraction. Graham is having a clingy day and finally goes down for a nap? Yes, quietness, and I'm just going to sit here and look online for a bit...an hour...oh crap, he's up. Or, I've had a long, busy day at work, made dinner, played with, bathed and put Graham to bed, I just want to relax. And by relax I mean drink a glass of wine and watch Downton Abbey. These things aren't bad, when done in moderation (as with most things in life) but when they start to become habit, well, I feel like I'm wasting parts of my 'one wild and precious life'.

We do it with our kids too - let's just put on this TV show so I can get 'x' done, or, during the lovely curious stage our son is in - 'Where is your...fill in the blank?" Again, sometimes needed (I would like to get dressed, you know) but what am I teaching him if this becomes a normal thing? I'm teaching things like 'If you're upset, it's best to just divert your attention than take time to deal with what you're feeling and learn how to deal with it". Deep, maybe, but he's smart, I promise you. He'll catch on quickly, and when he's 15 years old and not 15 months old, the habits I'm displaying and modeling now are going to show up on full display.

So how do I, how do we, as a culture, deal with this? I could just go offline, sure, and force myself to 'live simply' in that way, but that's like saying 'I'll avoid alcohol because I might drink too much'. It's putting rules up where, really, discipline is what's needed, not abstaining. And that's it, I think. Discipline. Training my mind, my habits, my actions to be intentional, purposeful, 'weighing down the moment' as Ann Voskamp so beautifully has said. Learning that, while some things are better left in the past (like acid-washed jeans...see this post), some things weren't so bad. Things like having to be at home if you wanted to use the phone to make plans, or physically see people to learn what happened in their day/week/month. Things like community.

And some things - like blogs, or forums, or groups, can be a way to purposefully act that out; I know I've met some wonderful people I wouldn't have met were it not for the online community! But, on the flip side of those wonderful things, if we were meant to know what a ton of people we kind of know, or used to know, or do actually hang out with, are doing, and thinking, and planning, etc. at any second of our day, I feel as though God would have created an avenue for that at the beginning. But He didn't. He created everything - He created US - with purpose. To have families, to take care of the world we live in, to work hard, to enjoy creation, to take care of our homes, to grow food, to live in community - real community. And I know when I take time to do those things - even if they seem tiresome, or take effort, or require actual focus - I feel more like a person, like the part of me that God created to be alive and to know Him and to reflect Him that was lost in the garden is back, and flourishing, and I'm energized!

I made a list tonight of things that I honestly love doing - things like like fire pits and gardening and antiquing and family Saturdays and dancing (and OK, wine made the list, it did.) Every single thing on that list was purposeful, focused, and involved personal interaction or purposeful solitude. What didn't make the list? Things like TV, spending time online, pinning. It helped to put into perspective that while those things are enjoyable to a certain degree, they don't even compare to what truly brings out the life God has intended for me to live. A life full, vibrant, tiring-yes, but in the best way possible. So what am I going to do with this one wild and precious life?? I'm kind of excited to find out!

Revelation

The title of this post sounds deep. In actuality, it has only to do with blogging. (so, in some way I guess it has to do with every post I write...ooo. That is deep) My revelation was that I don't have to wait until I have some deep revelation to actually write a blog post. I have this sneaking suspicion that some, possibly a lot, of bloggers actually start writing multiple posts whenever they have time/thoughts come to them, and save them to finish later. Genius! Genius, I tell you. I, in my always-make-things-10x harder-before-figuring-out-there's-a-better-way-to-do-it ways, have trouble keeping up with blogging because I think I have to wait until I have the time, energy and mental capacity to come up with some deep, thought-provoking post. I have ideas for posts all the time, but then fail to write them because I don't have an hour to just sit and blog at that moment. Well, I just figured out, I don't have to. I can take 5 minutes and get out what's in my head, then come back to it later. What?! Craziness. This may just change my life.

A perfect example of my former thinking ways is that I had planned to blog every day for a week leading up to Graham's birthday. Epic.Fail. I got 3 out. 3 out of 7...not even a 50%. Had I had my revelation prior to that week, it could have turned out a whole lot differently. What really happened was that I had about 10 zillion things going on, between my family coming to town, working a totally different schedule than normal, personal commitments and planning a birthday party that I was too tired to think at night and then writing became a chore. And frankly, my last post took a lot out of me and I needed some days to decompress.

But now, now the party is done, my baby is 1, my parents have left and I have a new-found approach to blogging. Turning over a new leaf, I dare say. It's kind of like the blogging New Year for me; maybe I'll don a little black hat and drink some champagne to celebrate. Except I don't have any...I'll have to work on that. But for now, I'm going to go jot down some ideas I have, then save them for later. See? Genius.

The Post I Really Don't Want to Write

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.

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.)