Meet Paul

When I was 5, there was a man at my church named Paul. There was something about Paul that I immediately noticed was different. The way he talked to people, how he helped the older ladies up and down the stairs, greeted all of the kids with a smile and a handshake or a high five, (and some of the ladies with a kiss on the hand). He was just...joyful - in the literal sense of the word: full of joy. And in my wise 5 year old brain (which I think can sometimes be much more wise than adults) I knew that Paul was the type of person I wanted to be around.

Paul also happened to have Down Syndrome. He couldn't talk very easily, had a significant stutter, and wasn't able to live on his own. I saw him struggle to say his name, and get frustrated when people were too impatient to stand and listen to him try to talk. Time and again people would finish his sentences for him, guessing at what he had to say, but never really listening.

It was then that I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to help people like Paul. Not because he needed my pity, or to feel some sense of validation, or because he 'needed help.' No, in reality, I guess I wanted to help everyone else through helping people like Paul. I wanted to help everyone else see what I could see at the time: a man who, in spite of whatever was his destined lot in life, for better or for worse, chose joy. I wanted to help people see just how valuable Paul truly was, and how much he could teach others. I wanted to show people just how backward they had it, and just how right Paul had it.

And that's why I do what I do, and why I am going to miss it so very much. I know I'll come back to it eventually, in some way shape or form, as that is definitely the call God has placed on my life. But for now, I'll miss it. I'll miss the day in and day out, the annoying things and the frustrations, the little victories and the milestones. But I can't wait to teach Graham all I've learned through those I've worked with over the years - they have truly been my teachers, and I couldn't be more grateful.

This is Paul. He passed away 3 years ago, at the age of 69.

A Letter to my Husband

It's late. I just finished cleaning the kitchen, there are piles of laundry dotting our room that haven't seemed to find their home in a week, and you're sitting in the other room trying to finish up some work. This has been a pretty common scene in our house these days - both of us running here and there, stopping briefly to say 'Oh, hey you. Nice to see you!' We've had a lot of change happening in our lives this summer, and some days I'm surprised we're all still standing!

Tomorrow we celebrate 7 years of marriage. Seven.years. That seems impossible. I remember as a child, when I heard someone had been married for ten years thinking 'Wow! They've been married for so long.' We're closing in on that, and we're not even 30! Ah, young love. Really young love. We were barely 21 and 22 respectively, and had no clue who we were or what we were doing when we got married. But, we did know that for whatever reason, we were supposed to be together.

It hasn't been easy. Years 3 and 5 were particularly rough; there were a few times we both seriously doubted if we'd make it. There have been times of hardship: financial; medical; job uncertainties; threats to the very vows we made; trying (and trying) to get pregnant; that crazy time we actually had a kid and our worlds turned upside down.

But there have been joys! Learning together, growing together, buying our first home, traveling and making so many memories, graduations, promotions, that crazy time we had a kid and our world turned upside down. :) So.many.joys.

I have loved watching you grow - as a person; emotionally, spiritually, coming into yourself and being confident in that man. Things that used to bother me about you I have learned to now love. I know that if we ever are in a spot where we need a shelter built, a blanket knitted and a cake to survive on, you sir, are the man for all three. And watching you as a daddy? Don't even get me started. You and Graham have something that is pure magic to watch.

Lord-willing, we have many more years in front of us, and they will include a lot more bumps and bruises, but also lots of new joys, and just a lot of plain living. I know we've got a few big challenges coming very soon - new adventures that will stretch and grow us even more.

But, as I sit here, I remember our very first date. 10 pm coffee (Miltons, actually) at the Drowsy Poet (who were we?! Coffee at 10 pm?? Pure.Crazy.) They let us stay past close and we talked til almost midnight (had to get back for curfew). As I walked up the steps to my dorm room, I remember very clearly thinking that in spite of everything that was different about us, and maybe because of those very things, that I was going to marry you. I'm so glad I was right.

Whatever God has in store for us, whatever new roads, new places, new struggles, new memories - I am so very grateful that God chose you for me to spend this life with. I know our future is only beautiful, whatever it holds.

Happy Anniversary my Love!!

Out with the Old

In with the 'everything is new what the heck is happening with my life?!'

OK, so maybe that's an exaggeration. But it does explain a wee bit why I've been MIA on this thing forever and a day. For some reason, when I'm trying to process things, I can't blog. I can write in a journal maybe, but mostly, I just think. I think of lots of things that I want to blog about, or journal about, or talk about...but then I just think some more. Finally, one day, it all comes spilling out. Or, rather, in a few days, and in spurts.

It's pretty much public knowledge where we live, but for the sake of my husband's job, we haven't said anything too specific out on the internet (read: Facebook) and still aren't. We'd like him to still have a job til we move. Oh, what was that, you say? Move? Yes. We're moving, Lord willing. To Iowa. The fact that I just typed that is possibly one of the strangest things I've ever done.

Honestly, I think it started around here. I didn't realize it then, but looking back, something was brewing. When we visited my family last August, we started talking 'what ifs'. I was really more 'what if' for a long time. Jim was a lot more serious a lot more quickly. It took a lot of thought, a lot of prayer, and a lot of breaking on my part. I couldn't imagine leaving our life here: our friends, our church, my job. That last one was honestly the hardest to let go of. I've moved a lot in my life, so am used to maintaining long distance friendships and resettling. But my job is something I am oddly attached to, and leaving it would mean not only leaving a company I love, but possibly a career, and for a lot of unknowns. I'll have a whole different post about that one.

But finally, I realized that it's what we're supposed to do. There are lots of reasons behind it - a need to slow down, a calling to focus more on our family right now, a desire to be near my extended family. But the overarching theme is really just that we truly feel it's where God is leading us. I have a feeling it's for a lot of reasons we don't even know about yet - more than just the Amish neighbors and chickens. :)

So, it's happening. Our house is for sale. My last day of work is September 12th. That's about all we really know right now. From there, it's a new adventure. Maybe this is our version of the '7 year itch' (our anniversary is next week). Who knows? What I do know, (and what gives me peace when I start silently freaking out) is that God goes before us, and that His plans for us are far greater than whatever we can imagine. I'm excited to discover them!

 (this is Iowa, FYI)

One of Those Days

I haven't blogged in 3 months. More on why later, when I can say a little more about that.

Have you ever had one of those days? Not the horrible day where everything goes wrong, but the day where everything's pretty normal, yet you just feel a little 'off'? I had one of those days today. Just anxious and stressed all day. I took a nap and read my Bible and that definitely helped, but I was still combating that feeling all day. Then, dinner. I'm stirring some pasta into this yummy sundried tomato and olive sauce, and a teeny tiny miniscule piece flies into the eye of my son. Cue horrible screams, crying (mommy and baby), rushing to the bathroom for cold water. We get it all figured out, he's good, just wants to eat pasta. Of course. So I make our plates, put his in the freezer to cool off for a minute, and I turn around and he's climbed onto my chair and is eating my pasta. Which happens to have cheese on top. Which he is severely allergic to. Thankfully, I think he just got the pasta, but just in case, I poured myself another glass of wine. A large one.

Yep - one of those days.

And now it's 11:00 pm, and I told Jim I was coming to bed an hour ago. Goodnight all, and hello again blogging world!

Being

I'm sitting here trying to write, but I just can't focus. Story of my life. Lately, at least. I feel spread thin, doing everything all at once, but nothing at the same time. I struggle to take ownership of my days. I let circumstances or distractions run my day and dictate my time. I have a hard time sitting and doing one thing through to completion. Anyone with me?

I've fallen prey to the 'constantly must be entertained/busy/productive' culture that I loathe so much. I envy my husband, because, while it at times frustrates me how one-track minded his male brain can be (love you honey!), it works to his advantage when doing a task. Example: clean the kitchen? OK. Done. That is all he is doing until it is done. Not stopping to throw in a load of laundry because he noticed the kitchen towel was dirty, or change the music because he doesn't like this song, or write down a reminder for something, or add to the grocery list, or water that plant sitting there. Nope. Just clean.the.kitchen. I could learn from this.

I think my problem partly stems from well-versed practice in the art of toddler-dom: what should take 5 minutes takes 25, with lots of interruptions. Somehow, I've let that become a life pattern and I'm really annoying myself with it, to be honest. I'll start this, then do this, then This, then oh! I forgot this. Then I'll take a quick break, read a blog...oh crap. What was I doing? I'm like a manic squirrel, seriously.

Honestly, I think it's a symptom of a deeper heart issue, one that is often thrown around but is harder to actually deal with when confronted with it - discontent. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, my son is the most amazing little person alive (I'm not biased at all), I have a great job, a warm home. It's not 'big life change' kind of discontent. It's the small, the daily, the sometimes mundane. But in reality, I think that is 'big life change' material. We're studying a book by Paul Tripp in our small group, called "What Did You Expect??"; the book is in relation to marriage (and very good - I'd recommend it thus far) but has a lot of relation to life in general. One of the things he talks about is how a marriage is a day to day thing, that the big things are a result of, and built on, the little things. The mundane things. The things we don't put a lot of thought into and do on autopilot, rather than with intentionality.

I can see this so practically in my own life. Like I'm almost scared to only do the laundry, because I should be doing x, y AND z as well. I am afraid of - yet at the same time crave - simplicity. Like if I actually admit to myself that I enjoy domestic things, and don't want to be hurried, then something is terribly wrong. I feel lazy, I feel 'less than'. So, I make myself crazy trying to do it all, to not miss out on anything, any experience. But by doing so I end my day feeling as thought I've done a lot, but not done a lot well, and that's not a great feeling. Then I think it's because I'm missing something: I'm not organized enough or disciplined enough, so I keep trying, and keep coming up with the same fruitless feeling. That feeling makes it hard to then want to put the effort in at all, because I never seem to see the result of doing something well.

So, I'm learning. I'm learning that a day of household chores and playing and even resting and refreshing myself, can actually be more gratifying than a day filled with rushing and appointments and the appearance of 'importance', which we sadly have interchanged with the word 'busy'. Important things aren't busy - they take time. time to plan, time to do well. And the thing about importance is that not.everything.can.be.important. So I have to decide what is, and if only that is done, I can rest knowing that it's done well.

Ann Voskamp talks about 'weighing down the moments', and it's so true. Time goes more slowly when I'm focused. When I try to cram in 100 things, all of a sudden my day is done, I'm dizzy and don't know where the time went. I live life by the clock rather than by the moment. This is necessary at times, yes, but when it's not, I don't want that to be my driving force. I also have to guard myself from those feelings of 'not doing enough', if I see others seemingly accomplish the world, while I'm thankful to have put on some makeup. God has called me to a season of slowing down, of focusing, and of resting in Him - of not doing so much, and just being. That is, after all, what we are: beings.

It's a long lesson to learn for this 'do it all' woman, but a much needed one.

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.