Thank You All!

Our sweet baby was born 4 weeks ago and I have yet to brag about how loving and generous my family and friends are, and how they’ve taken such amazing care of me and Mark and our girls. I’m so proud and blessed to call them mine!

While we were in the hospital my parents made sure my big girl was well cared for (so understated!!) and loved so we didn’t have to worry. They even made sure she had some fun times with friends to keep her distracted from worrying about me. They let her pick out balloons and flowers for me and made sure the house was so sweetly decorated for our homecoming. And through all that my mom made sure she was there for me too. Of course they continue to show their love and support, and offer any help we may need. I am so blessed!

All of my family (sisters, brother, all parents) has shown their excitement for our newest family member in all sorts of ways. The texts, phone calls, visits, support, prayers, and overall thoughtfulness mean so much! Two sisters sent maternity clothes, which I loved and got so much use out of! One sent beautiful baby clothes which will be a part of Kate’s wardrobe for a long time to come. One made sure Bella was busy while waiting for Kate, but made sure she was at the hospital when it was time for her to meet her new baby sister. My brother made a special trip down from North Carolina to meet his new niece, and my dad and stepmom will be here in 2 short weeks to meet their sweet granddaughter. Family is the best!

My friends are even more amazing than I ever knew! They helped out in any way they could with Bella, and they continue to do so still. Some came to visit, some made us delicious meals to make things a little (a lot!) easier when we came home, and some are helping with Bella’s school transportation since miss Kate despises the car line. Everyone has been so helpful and we feel so loved! All the phone calls, texts, emails, and visits were and are so appreciated! Who knew so many people cared so much?!

Finally, there’s my husband and his heart of gold. He is so loving and supportive, and he’s taken on so much. I overheard him telling someone that it’s been a bit of a challenge to juggle work and taking care of the household (cooking, cleaning, laundry, pet care, grocery shopping, etc.) and me and the two girls, and what an appreciation that renewed in him for all that I do for the family. It made my heart happy. He’s so protective of me and is making sure I’m resting and taking good care of myself and our sweet Kate.

In the hospital my husband was right there with me through the hardest thing I’ve ever been through in my life- 28 hours of intense labor followed by an unplanned c-section. He held my hand, fed me italian ice, tenderly wiped my face, and reminded me to breathe and focus on our sweet baby. He was the one to finally show me the face of our gorgeous girl. He was the one who so thoughtfully ordered me a Jimmy Johns sub since I hadn’t eaten for more than 24 hours, thinking I would finally be able to eat after delivery.

For the first two weeks home the only things my husband would let me do was feed and change Kate, sleep, and eat. He and Bella made sure I was comfortable and happy, and that I didn’t lift a finger. They figured out their routines, and though it wasn’t always easy, they did it for me.

Each day I’m getting better and more active, and I’m able to do more and  more around the house. Fortunately I do have Mark to keep me in check though. I am realizing that housework will wait, but our baby will only be this little once, and so I’m enjoying holding and snuggling her, and he and I tag team to keep a good balance. He will cook, clean up, change diapers, help with Bella’s homework, anything to make it easy for me. He helped Bella clean out and reorganize her bedroom. He loves just snuggling with Kate while I do things I want/ need to do, or while I spend time with Bella. He reminds me that I don’t have to do it all myself, and I don’t want to. I am so grateful to have a loving husband who is my partner in every aspect of our  life. I am so loved!

Thank You All!

Ready Or Not...

Excited, scared, happy, scared, sad…Tuesday, December 30, at 2:30pm I was an emotional roller coaster. I had my 40 week check up, and since my blood pressure was high the doctor sent us right over to the hospital for evaluation to decide if I needed to be induced.

I guess a big part of me was “ready”, as I had finished a couple errands that morning that I wanted to do before baby, I took a nice long shower, made myself all up, and even painted my toes! I had my hubby go to the doctor with me even, “just in case”.

On the way to the doctor’s office I was so nervous! Even if it wasn’t going to be that day, my baby would be coming soon! After all, my due date was only two days away. I was so nervous because I just didn’t know if I was ready yet, or truly ever would be. I know that sounds completely crazy. First of all, I was as ready as I was ever going to be! We had everything we would need for bringing baby home and the house was clean and organized. And like most women, a part of me was just ready to have this baby. I was feeling tired and big!

There was a part of me that wasn’t ready, though. That’s the part that wanted to hold on to this miraculous pregnancy forever. The part that wanted to carry our precious gift from God safe inside of me longer, to just have her with me. As much as my arms longed to hold her and all my senses were on high alert wanting to see her beauty, smell her sweet baby scent, and hear her little cries, my heart wanted to keep her tucked up in right next to it.

Pregnancy was one of the most beautiful, amazing experiences of my life. I was so blessed to have an easy and healthy pregnancy. Sure there was some sickness, and a few “typical” pregnancy things, but really I didn’t “suffer” at all. If I had believed everything I read I would have thought I’d be a pimple faced, sweaty, gigantic blimp always breathless, always tired, and always finding some new ache or pain or gripe. Heartburn, leg cramps, bad skin, exhaustion, crazy food cravings, swelling…pregnancy sounds like a thrill a minute according to the books. So I put the books away, put the negativity behind me, decided not to let all the “risks” and fears steal my joy, and instead focused on the beautiful miracle God had given us. God enabled my body to create a whole and healthy child. He enabled my body to bring forth a beautiful life to honor Him, and He entrusted one of His precious angels to us to parent. Those are the things that consumed me throughtout my amazing journey.

So when we arrived at the hospital and they told us we were staying I thanked God for my beautiful journey, asked His blessings on the road ahead, and began to look forward to finally having our little miracle in my arms, right where she belongs.

Ready Or Not...

Just a Few Short Weeks Ago

It’s 5am and I’ve been tossing and turning, thinking and praying since 4. Then my baby got the hiccups and thought it was acrobatics time, and my body was telling me it wasn’t going to sleep anymore without a little snack, so here I am eating oatmeal and writing. Isn’t this what everyone does when sleep has left them?

It’s probably not that weird that I’m up at such an inhumane hour. I mean, I think I was passed out on the couch around 10 (that seems to be my magic hour these days), so 6 hours might not be an ideal night of sleep for this overly tired pregnant lady, but it’s not all that terrible. In fact, in a few short months I’ll bet I would give anything for a straight 6 hours of sleep!

Tonight, this morning, (whatever!) my mind is racing with thoughts about my little girl and my husband, and am I doing ok with them through my pregnancy. Am I being a good enough wife? Am I an attentive enough mom? Am I enjoying this pregnancy to the fullest? So much pressure I put on myself! I’m a caretaker. I need to take care of my baby, my big girl, my husband…oh yeah, and me too.

Last night was Halloween and we had a wonderful evening! It was a fabulous week, really. We carved pumpkins with family, Bella had an exciting week of accomplishment and fun at school, I had a great doctor visit (hearing that strong little heartbeat makes every visit good!), we had a blast at a friend’s family Halloween party and trick or treat night, and wrapped it up trick or treating a little at my parents. Yep, it really was a great week and a “spooktacular” Halloween, but of course I have to question myself and second guess. Could I have done better? Well of course I could have! I’m not artsy craftsy Pinterest mom. I didn’t buy Bella a festive shirt for her school party, I didn’t take a picture of her in her costume with her pumpkin. Yes, I did take a picture of her with her pumpkin, and one in her costume, but not the costume and pumpkin combined; and probably not nearly enough pictures. I didn’t get my hubby anything festive to wear for our fun night out, and I didn’t get my cute pumpkin belly shirt I wanted to dress up my Katie belly. In fact I didn’t get too festive at all. We didn’t break out any of our festive fall decorations, and Bella didn’t even have a real trick or treat bag! Yikes! What kind of mom am I? What kind of wife am I? My husband really enjoys Halloween too, and in his previous marriage this festive event was almost as big as Christmas. So what kind of failure am I? And how will it make Bella feel next year when I know I’ll be all excited and into it because I will dress up our baby and pull her around in a wagon, and it will be new and exciting through her eyes, and we’ll be excited to share everything with her. You know how it will make Bella feel? Excited and happy! Just like she was this year, and every year that I beat myself up wondering if I did enough. And my husband? Well I’m pretty sure he’s just fine too. We had a fun time together, we laughed with friends and family, we enjoyed the beautiful weather and loved watching our little girl enjoy herself. That’s good enough for both of us, I’m sure!

As I’m nearing the end of this pregnancy I’ve kind of been slowing down (reluctantly, sort of) and questioning if I’ve done “good enough” through this pregnancy. I mean I have just less than nine weeks left! Have I appreciated every moment? Have I enjoyed being pregnant to the fullest? Have I taken a single moment for granted? Because I’ve been so busy. I’m always busy, and running and doing. I have not sat on the couch watching TV, eating Bonbons and waiting to be served and waited on (though my sweet husband would wait on me if that’s what I wanted/ needed!). I’ve tried to keep up with some kind of workout regiment so getting my body back to “normal” will hopefully be a little easier transition. But have I worried too much about that and not just done whatever I want because I can because I’m pregnant and can get away with it? Will I regret that later? Have I neglected Mark’s needs, or Bella’s needs because of Kate? Or have I neglected to give Kate the very best of care because I’m busy taking care of and doing for my family? See, I really do question myself so much! I guess it’s that perfectionist thing in me.

However, in all my thinking and overanalyzing and praying and wondering I did have an aha moment! I realized that of course I can always do better, and I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s doing it all just right. But I do feel like for me I’m doing ok. I am who I am, and worrying that it’s not good enough (though that seems to be a part of who I am too!) is just not ok. I’m not neglectful of any of my family members, myself included. I am constantly busy, running and going, and I like it that way. It’s who I am and what I do. I may not do up every event and festive occasion grand and elaborate, but I do it, and I try to make it fun, and we do it as a family. I may be a little too frugal for my own (and my family’s) good, but we have everything we need and a lot of what we just want. We do not go without food, shelter, clothing, family, friends, and love. Most importantly love! And have I enjoyed my pregnancy to the fullest? You bet I have! Yes, I could have and still should rest a little more. I do wish I had done more writing throughout, though I do have a little mini series I’m excited to be working on. Oh, and the time has sort of flown by in some ways. I am so thrilled and grateful that I’m healthy, that I’ve had an easy pregnancy, that I’ve been able to maintain my active lifestyle and feel great pregnant.

Just a Few Short Weeks Ago

AMA, BPPs, NSTs...What?!

Recently my monthly visits to my baby doctor became bi-monthly visits, which is normal for every expectant mom at 28 weeks. Great! Then I was told because I was AMA I would have monthly growth check ultrasounds. Ok, not sure what that means, but monthly ultrasounds to see my sweet girl sounds wonderful! So last week I was told that because I’m AMA (which I learned means “advanced maternal age”…over 35) I will need to continue visits every other week until 36 weeks, at which time I will be seen weekly, I will continue monthly growth check ultrasounds (yay), I will have weekly BPPs (what?!) and weekly NSTs (again, what?!). What on earth is all this testing? Has obstetrical medicine become like our education system so we have more testing than we can handle and no time to just be pregnant? Don’t get me wrong though, I’m thrilled they’re on constant baby watch to make sure our little one is safe and healthy, but what do all these letters  mean?

I found out this week. Yesterday was our second monthly growth ultrasound where we saw our beautiful girl on the big (well small really) screen just sleeping peacefully. We saw her strong heartbeat and watched as the ultrasound tech measured all her pertinent parts to make sure she’s growing and developing just right. And she is! She gained almost 1 1/2 pounds in the last month, though they say she’s going to be little. Fine by me! I’m kind of little myself so I’m just fine with my baby girl following my lead, as long as she’s healthy and strong. Ok, so I’m versed and knowledgeable in growth ultrasounds, now what do I do for this BPP thing? Oh nothing different? Ok. I can do that! Turns out a BPP is a biophysical profile in which the same ultrasound tech watches our baby for up to 30 minutes to make sure she practices breathing at least 3 times and that she moves at least 3 times. Well if we’d been doing this test at 10:00 at night that tech would have been stunned by my daughter’s amazing acrobatic skills, I’m certain. However, since we started the test between breakfast and lunch it happened to be nap time, and I think this munchkin might not be much of a morning person, if you know what I mean. She was enjoying her nap and didn’t have a lot of interest in being roused from dreamland. She succumbed to the prodding and did show us her moves though, and passed her test beautifully. Whew!

Ok, now I know what a BPP is, and for me it’s quite enjoyable! I love seeing what our little girl is up to! Now, on to the NST. The what? The non stress test. Non stress? Not for me! I was stressed! Apparently the non stress part has nothing to do with my anxiety level. The NST ended up being a pretty amazing test too, mainly because our little Kate did it all just right. All I had to do was kick back in the big comfy recliner with two monitors strapped to my belly, and all the baby had to do was her normal thing. Fortunately we did not catch her at nap time for this test this morning so she put on a fabulous show. The NST monitors the baby’s heart rate when she’s active and resting and during my contractions. They look for her heart rate to speed up during activity and contractions and to slow back down at rest. So to me it was so awesome listening to that beautiful strong heart beat doing just what it’s supposed to do, and hearing her movement as I felt it.

I do realize that the point of these tests is because there are risks, and some people are not able to enjoy the tests so much because they’re having them due to complications or other scary factors. I do not take my daughter’s well being for granted in the least, and I’m so thankful that all these tests are available to ensure she continues to thrive. I thank God each and every day for entrusting this little angel to us, and for enabling my body and hers to do and have everything necessary to bring forth life to honor Him. I have been so blessed with a healthy and easy pregnancy, and I’m thankful that I don’t feel like I’m “advanced maternal age”. And now that I know that these BPPs and NSTs are nothing scary, but are amazing and easy tools to monitor and ensure our baby’s continuous healthy growth I would like to tell all AMA moms not to be afraid, not to stress over the frequency of the visits, and to just be thankful that these tools are available for us!

 

AMA, BPPs, NSTs...What?!

Pedicures...a Treat, a Luxury, a Necessity

I love getting pedicures as much as the next girl, though I rarely treat myself to such a delightful, small luxury. I don’t know why that is, other than my umm..frugalness. Or perhaps it’s my lack of willingness to pamper myself. Do I think I don’t deserve it? I don’t know. But that’s a whole other psycho analyzing post. This post is about why I will be pampering myself with this magnificent little treasure soon.

At 32 weeks pregnant my “bump” is feeling a little more like a mountain. A beautiful mountain that I am so in love with, but a mountain none the less. Thus my comment on pedicures. See, I now have a renewed appreciation for the ability to pamper my own little tootsies whenever I like. Of course I’d been told I wouldn’t be able to bend and reach my own feet, but still it just feels a little strange to me. I used to just put my foot up on the counter, rub my lotion on, and paint my toes. No big deal! Now it’s so difficult just to put on pants, or socks, or to do anything that requires bending at the waist, let alone painting my toes! So in the spirit of feeling good about myself in a time I hardly recognize my own body I will get a pedicure soon! My baby shower is this weekend and I believe it’s important to feel pretty; and for me part of feeling pretty is pretty toes (keep in mind, it Florida, it’s warm, and I will be wearing open toes shoes!). A pedicure, a wonderful party surrounded by amazing friends and family, and a new outfit for the occasion will make for one joyful and confident pregnant girl!

Pedicures...a Treat, a Luxury, a Necessity

My Personal Pregnancy Stages...up to now

 

I’ve dreamed of being pregnant, I’ve read up so much on it over the years. I just knew I would recognize all the signs and symptoms, and the stages and trimesters would be familiar to me, if it ever happened. In fact, I thought I may have ruined any potential magic and surprise by researching so much. Because really, what else is an overly hopeful mom-to-be supposed to do over the course of many, many years of yearning and praying. I was ready, I was doubtful, I was hopeful. That makes no sense, I know, but it’s how I felt. So now that I’m pregnant I should be an old pro, right? Wrong! This is so exciting and new and different and I feel like I’ve never felt before, emotionally and physically.

 

I’ve sort of been experiencing phases of acceptance, if you will. I didn’t know that would happen! When I first found out I was pregnant it really kind of was “all about me”. I was pregnant. I was sick. I was tired. I was feeling and seeing changes in my body that no one else would know about. It was more about a pregnancy and less about a baby. Oh it was exciting and miraculous and I was overjoyed. But still at first it was mostly “I’m pregnant”.

After the sickness part was gone (oh thank God, thank Heaven, thank all things holy!) all of a sudden it became a reality that this pregnancy was about new life. Pregnancy means a new baby. Of course I knew that! Even though my mom pulled me from that part of health class in 8th grade I still know how these things work. I knew that that little plus sign on the pregnancy test, those 3 months of starvation alternating with nausea accompanied by constant fatigue meant my body was working hard to develop a little human. Logically, intellectually of course I know this. And even emotionally I was accepting, no thrilled, that God was doing miraculous work through me to bring forth a new life to honor and serve Him. I know this and I have prayed daily thanking Him for this. The only way I know to describe the feeling at that point is to say that my pregnancy was about us having “a” baby.

Now that I’m at the halfway point of 20 weeks and so excited beyond words to see “a” baby on an ultrasound picture (tomorrow!!) and find out if we’re having a boy or a girl my reality is changing once again. I’m still pregnant, of course, and absolutely loving it. I still have “a” baby growing inside of me, of course. But now it’s not “a” baby. It’s our baby! Oh my gosh! It’s our baby! This is a little person who is a part of me and my husband, but who will be unique and special. This is a tiny person that may have my nose and his sweet smile. It may be a little girl with my blond hair and his bright blue eyes. Or a little boy with his courage and my stubbornness. But it’s our little person. Another family member. I can feel our baby move, I can see major changes in my body, and I feel my heart expanding every day and overflowing with love and gratitude for this baby, for my family, for miracles, and for life. 

 

My Personal Pregnancy Stages...up to now

All Kinds of Mom

Yes, it’s official. I have changed my name. I found something that just suited me better, so I’m going with that. I know, I know, it’s been a while since I’ve written, and obviously a lot has happened! My name change is a reflection of a little of that. I’m not changing my personal, legal name of course. That name is who I was always meant to be. No, it’s my blog name that has changed! Andrea Ceely- Writer was just sort of a description, a word, but not really me.                                                                                   So now I’ve become All Kinds of Mom. Much better!  After all, that really describes me to a tee!

My first mom role came about 81/2 years ago with the birth/adoption of my baby girl.                                                             I became (technically speaking) an “adoptive mom”, though really I’m just mom. With the adoptive mom title also came “stay at home mom”, a role which I embraced, enjoyed, and cherished! About a year later my role switched to “part-time working mom” as my marriage was becoming even more shaky and finances became strained. Then another year plus a few months later I became a full-time working mom. The marriage was mostly over and I was preparing to change roles once again to single working mom. And I did.

My “single working mom” role was challenging, but so rewarding- maybe empowering is the better word choice there. Really I had basically lived as though I was single for the last few years while my ex-husband was busy with his girlfriend and her children, but to have the official title and the independence, and to really be making it on my own was still a big, welcome change. While I wasn’t doing it entirely on my own since I never would have survived without the support of amazing family and friends, I realized I could do it without depending on someone who was so absent, so wrong for me and for my child. So  my single mom role was an eye opening, self-esteem building, learning experience. And then I moved on to another role.

Over the next three years I met the man that God intended just for me,                                                                               became a stay at home mom again, a part time working mom, a work from home mom, and finally a step mom! In 2012 my mom heart expanded even bigger to make room for two sweet, fun, crazy boys who now call me mom, and who gave me a new mom role I never imagined I’d have, but that I cherish. While this mom role has it’s own challenges, it comes with so many rewards. I’m so blessed!

Over the last almost two years I have again become a stay at home, PTA, cheer, soccer, kid focused mom and step mom, and I love it! These kids make me crazy, make me laugh, and make my heart burst with love and pride. I couldn’t imagine anything better. Until a few months ago when we found out God is blessing me with yet another mom role. I get to start all over in the mom process. Come January 1st (or whenever he or she decides to make their grand entrance) I’ll be mom to a sweet newborn baby Ceely. My already big mom heart will expand even more to make room for our family’s fourth child, my second child, my first by birth, and my first with my soul mate and love, my amazing husband.

When I stopped to think of all the ways God has blessed me with this amazing mom                                                              role, this tremendous mom love, I realized that I have received His miracles beyond what my mind could have ever imagined. As a kid I always knew I wanted to be a mom. I always felt it was just who I was, who God made me to be. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine all the ways I would be blessed with that role. And never could I have imagined God’s plan or timing, though I now recognize just how perfect it is. When I struggled to conceive many years ago, I could not have known how beautifully and perfectly adoption would change my life. When I was at my lowest point in life, struggling through a divorce and financial disaster, I had no idea that God would send me a wonderful man and two little boys to bring me a whole new life and love. And now I’m just in awe of God’s grace and mercy as He is growing our family and letting me be a mom yet again with an amazing and miraculous new life to round out our beautiful, crazy family. Thank you God for trusting me to be all kinds of mom to four of your precious angels.

 

All Kinds of Mom

Remember It's MEMORIAL DAY!

Repost: I wrote this last year at this time, and I think it’s a reminder that needs to be stated again.

What is Memorial Day really all about? Sure we enjoy a nice long weekend cooking out, playing in the water, and celebrating the start of our summer. And hopefully most of us stop for at least a moment to think about what Memorial Day means. But do we really know?

Memorial Day, previously called Decoration Day, originated after the American Civil War to commemorate the fallen Union soldiers. By the 20th century Memorial Day had been extended to honor all American soldiers who have died in all wars. Memorial Day is a day to remember fellow Americans who have lost their lives serving our country in the United States Armed Forces.

Over the years, the long holiday weekend has come to signify the beginning of summer, family gatherings, fireworks, trips to the beach, and of course, the Indianapolis 500. We should all enjoy the American traditions, and enjoy our family time; but we should also teach our children what this important day means to us. Please be sure to take a moment to just think of those who lost their lives fighting for the freedoms that we live to enjoy every day. Flags should be flown at half staff until noon in honor of those who gave their lives in service to our country. At noon the flag is raised to signify the memory of those lost being raised by the living who resolve to not let their sacrifice be in vain, but to continue to fight for liberty and justice.

Remember It’s MEMORIAL DAY!

Remember It's MEMORIAL DAY!

Rising From the Depths of Despair

Today I had a break through, thanks to a much needed visit with a very dear friend. Earlier I was trying to write, but I was just so darned depressed that it wasn’t working for me. I mean, I was literally curled up on the couch with my blanket, TV on, iPad open, and tears rolling down my face intermittently throughout the morning. (Then my husband sent me the sweetest text that made happy tears roll with the sad ones!) I didn’t want to write something that would bring anyone down, or invoke pity or even sympathy. I just needed to write to get it all out there. Then my big epiphany led me to exactly what I want to say.

My pity party this morning, though perhaps a little self-indulgent, was not completely undue. In all fairness, it has been an extraordinarily challenging 5-6 months for my family, and well, this morning it was just weighing on me. We’re talking the stuff of depression and self pity. The stuff that can destroy a precarious relationship or strengthen the infallible one. Things like a miscarriage, a health scare, a cancer diagnosis, an unexpected and untimely death, a job loss, a temporary new job 200 miles away, just to name a few of the major things. It’s been tough, to say the least, but there has been so much good mixed in there too! And I know I am not going this road alone, my family is not doing it alone, and there are so many great things headed our way. So this morning, as blue as I was feeling and as much as it felt good to sit and wallow a while, I really was trying to keep myself from free-falling the whole way down to the bottom of the oh poor me pits. So I kicked my lazy butt into gear, got a shower and made myself presentable, spent a few moments thanking God for all of His amazing blessings in my life and lifting up those I know who need lots of prayers right now, and moved forward with my day with a bit of a better attitude.

Then my friend asked if my daughter and I wanted to come over to hang out after school, and I thought that was just what the doctor ordered. So I happily (maybe even exuberantly) accepted. As the kids played my friend and I talked. And talked. And talked. And in the midst of all the talking I stated, without even thinking about it, that the reason I felt so depressed today is because my mind, my heart has taken a gigantic leap back in time to about 5 years ago and earlier. Bing! There it was, my big epiphany! Even though I know in my logical mind that my husband is just out of town temporarily for a job to support our family and provide for us, my apparently still tender spirit has started to put up it’s defenses. I’m feeling like a single mom again, and I’m panicking. My subconscious seems to be nagging me to step up to the plate. To be mom and dad to my daughter. To keep the household running smooth. To watch every penny carefully to ensure that we’re ok. My cruel subconscious was trying to make me believe I was all alone!

So why is this such a fabulous epiphany? Because really, it sounds kind of bad, and sad, and not too great at all. Well, what’s so great about it is that now that I recognize what is going on I’m able to talk myself through it, to pray my way through it. Yes, I am human and I believe it’s ok to cry sometimes. But I was getting frustrated because I just wasn’t understanding what I was feeling. I know my faith in God is strong, and that He will get my family through all of this. I’m really not worried. My husband and I work together everyday to keep our eyes on God and His plan for us, and we remain faithful.  So why couldn’t I shake this sadness? Why was I not feeling at peace? Because even though my conscious mind knew it wasn’t true, I was feeling like I was back to being just me and God and Bella against the world. But I’m not!

This realization has already lifted my spirits tremendously. While I miss my husband like crazy, I know he’s only a phone call, a face time call away. He is still very much on this journey with me. It’s not my journey, not my life, but ours. Yes, our road has been so tough but we’re making it, together. He and I are strong together, we belong together, and we will get through it all, as a family, with God- together!

Jeremiah 29:11  “ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Rising From the Depths of Despair

Eight Years Ago I Was Shopping!

Eight years ago today I was doing some shopping. A lot of shopping. Major shopping! I was shopping for, yep, you guessed it, baby stuff! Eight years ago yesterday I received the call that changed my life, my world, and who I was and would become. I got the call telling me I was going to be a mommy! And soon! Little did I know just how soon, but I knew I’d better start preparing.

Of course I had been “preparing” for a long time, sort of. I was hoping and dreaming about becoming a mom, and I started letting myself believe just a little that it might really happen, and so I bought a few soft blankets and some sweet little onesies and I called myself prepared. I refused to open up my heart to the possibility of even more hurt and disappointment after so many years of pain, so I didn’t really buy everything one might need for a newborn, even though I knew when we signed on with our adoption agency that there was a very real, very great chance that motherhood was in my near future. Sure, there was a bedroom, and there were dreams, but there was no car seat, stroller, diapers, or baby furniture. Because buying those things would really expose my dreams to the world. Harder yet, buying those things would open up my heart and soul to possible devastation yet again, and I just couldn’t face that.

But when that call came making my dreams of motherhood a reality, I lost all control of my emotion. I was so thrilled, and I wanted this so much that I gave all of myself to the dream. And so I shopped. I spent that weekend eight short years ago shopping for baby necessities. I picked out just the perfect things for my perfect little girl- a pink and gray travel system, colorful butterfly and flower bedding and room decorations, cold weather necessities for a couple weeks in Kentucky, and just baby stuff. It was fun and thrilling and scary and beautiful all at the same time.  It’s funny how I can remember those moments like they were yesterday. I look at my sweet, beautiful crazy little seven almost eight year old and I marvel at God’s grace and His blessings in my life. Simply amazing!

 

 

 

Eight Years Ago I Was Shopping!

I Can't Fix It For the Broken Kids

I recently read an article about a 24 year old mother who was arrested for child endangerment after police found her unresponsive in the shower, and her two small children were left unattended, and it just turns my stomach. Apparently there had been two other adults in the home, but after they put the mother in the shower in a futile attempt to arouse her, they left. When police arrived, they found the older child crying for help to wake up his mom, and they found an uncapped syringe with clear liquid and a burnt spoon in the bathroom with her. The children were placed in the custody of their grandmother, and the older child was interviewed by Child Protective Services.  He told them that “his mom gives herself shots all the time in the bathroom but he isn’t allowed to go in when she is giving the shots.”

These are the stories that just rip your heart apart! Those innocent children deserve so much better, and they don’t even know it! And where was the grandmother before this happened? These are the situations where I just don’t understand how the so-called “parent” got to be a parent. Why did God let that happen when there are so many safe, loving homes lacking, but longing for, the warmth and love of sweet babies. What on earth led that woman to believe her home, her lifestyle, would provide a loving environment for impressionable children? Does the father of the children know what they are going through? Does he even care? And how can he not?

I don’t want to judge, and obviously I don’t know all the facts and all the history. But man, with the facts I do know I just can’t help but feel sad and hurt for these kids. And for their mom too, I suppose. I mean, what must she be going through or have gone through in her life to have such a need for drugs that they are more important than the safety and welfare of her children? I wonder if she feels guilty for scaring them like she did. I wonder if she is afraid of the control the substances have over her that she is willing to make any and all sacrifices for them.

Stories like this remind me just how naive and sheltered I am, that I just can’t fathom a mom behaving in such a way. I hate to think that there are so many other kids facing such sad, lonely, and scary childhoods. But the reality is there are, and I know it. It’s so hard to think about because I can’t fix it. And that’s what I want to do, as a mom, as a compassionate human, is to fix it for them.

But really, each of us has an opportunity to help kids like this. We  can be a mentor at our kids’ schools. Believe it or not there are kids there whose best time of the day is at school. That may be their only opportunity for close contact and interaction. That may be the only place they are getting fed.  And that may be the only place someone cares about them. We can get to know the kids at our churches and community activities and help them see that there are loving caring adults, and there is someone they can turn to if they need a helping hand. Also, there are so many kids in the foster care system who have lived in dire situations, who have seen more in their short little lives than most of us can even fathom. And I know that foster parenting and adoption are not the right fit for every family, but we can all spread the word and make it more widespread so that kids who have been removed from a less than ideal situation have loving arms waiting and wanting to protect them.

Thinking of kids hurting, especially at the hands of their own parents, is gut wrenching and sad. It is one of life’s biggest tragedies, and a depressing reality. Take your kids in your arms and hug them to pieces. Thank God for them and the joy they bring into your home. And then teach them compassion for others, and help them understand that a little kindness can go a long way in the life of one who sees little good in the world.

 

I Can't Fix It For the Broken Kids

Do Your Children Truly Get Veteran's Day? Do You?

“Veterans Day: A celebration to honor America’s veterans for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good.”

Happy Veteran’s Day! Or perhaps, Thankful For Our Veteran’s Day! However you want to say it, the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month has been a significant day in United States history since 1918, which marked the armistice ending the fighting in “the war to end all wars”, World War I. November 11, 1919 was the first Armistice Day, and in the words of President Woodrow Wilson, ”To us in America, the reflections of Armistice Day will be filled with solemn pride in the heroism of those who died in the country’s service and with gratitude for the victory, both because of the thing from which it has freed us and because of the opportunity it has given America to show her sympathy with peace and justice in the councils of the nations…”

Over the course of our history, after other treacherous wars were fought by so many service men and women to preserve and enhance our free nation, this day became known as Veteran’s Day. Legislation was passed on June 1, 1954 to make November 11th a day to honor American veterans of all wars, then on October 8th of that same year President Dwight D. Eisenhower issued the first Veteran’s Day proclamation which stated, “In order to insure proper and widespread observance of this anniversary, all veterans, all veterans’ organizations, and the entire citizenry will wish to join hands in the common purpose.” He then designated the offices and personnel that would coordinate and organize proper observance on a national level.

On June 28, 1968 the Uniform Holiday Bill was passed, and it was designed to ensure three day weekends for federal employees for four national holidays, Veteran’s Day being one of those. It was thought that these long weekends would encourage travel and spending, therefor boosting the nation’s economy. However, some states did not agree, and thus continued to celebrate those four holidays on their originally appointed date. So in 1978 it was decided that the observance of Veteran’s Day would be restored to November 11, preserving it’s historical significance, and reiterating it’s important purpose- to honor American veteran’s for their patriotism, love of country, and willingness to serve and sacrifice for the common good.

Today’s history lesson is brought to you by me, to serve as a reminder to all of how this holiday began, what it means, and why we should be honoring all men and women who have served and are currently serving our great nation. You see, whether our veterans served in battle, trained military personnel, or served in other capacities to enhance our military and provide for our country, they all signed up to serve and protect, no matter the cost. They were willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for their country, our country. In these trying times in the United States of America, during times of such division and turmoil, it is so important to remember that we as a nation have fought long and hard to enjoy the freedoms we enjoy. And it’s even more important to honor those who have volunteered to be on the front lines standing up for this country we love, and for the ideals we as a christian based nation were founded on.

So let me ask. Do your children truly understand the meaning and historical significance of Veteran’s Day? Can anyone explain to me why our children devote so much time to learning about a historical figure such as Martin Luther King but spend no time honoring our veterans? They actually have Martin Luther King Day off of school, but not President’s Day, or Veteran’s Day. Am I the only one who has an issue with that? Not that I want them to be off school another day, but how is it decided which federal holidays and which historical figures deserve observance with suspending learning entirely after a month long celebration and education, and which ones are briefly mentioned in passing? The original concept for Veteran’s Day was a day of parades and public meetings, and a brief suspension of business at 11:00am. In 1926 Congress passed a concurrent resolution with these words (just a partial clip) “…inviting the people of the United States to observe the day in schools and churches, or other suitable places, with appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.” Maybe I’m way off base here, but I just feel Veteran’s Day is of significant importance to the entire foundation of our nation, and should be honored as such.

Last year Bella’s school did a wonderful program honoring veteran’s in general, and encouraging the student’s pride in their families’ veterans. The kids gathered the names, branches, and ranks of family members who had served or are currently serving and were introduced with them, if possible, and some of the parent veteran’s stood up and spoke to the children about their service. It was a wonderful tribute. This year they eliminated the program all together. They did have the students turn in the names of veterans and active military personnel in their families so they could honor them on a wall dedicated to Veteran’s Day. But I suppose an hour of the “common core curriculum” learning time just couldn’t be afforded. After all, how will these 5-10 year old children ever be ready for the rigorous academics of the universities if they give up their math and reading time for such minutia as honoring fellow humans who have paved the way for their futures?

On that note, let me close with a heartfelt thank you to my husband, my grandfather, my cousin, and my other family members and friends who have shown their love of country and willingness to sacrifice by serving in the military of the United States of America!

Do Your Children Truly Get Veteran's Day? Do You?

Be Kind. That Is All

Ever have one of those moments where a life lesson your mom taught you from early on jumps right in your face to remind you of it’s importance? Yep, that’s what happened this morning. I was reminded that you never know what people have going on, and that their “transgression” against you (real or perceived) may have a huge story behind it that you don’t even know. I was reminded to be kind and smile, because that may be just what someone needs to brighten their day. Or at least to not make their day even more difficult.

So a friend’s (maybe acquaintance’s) little girl’s heart was broken by the way an adult spoke to her (which is enough to make even the calmest of us go all momma bear on someone), she talked to her parents, and the mom had a bit of a meltdown telling me the story, and explaining to me some of what is going on in their family right now. Looking at this family from the outside you would have no idea they have anything going on at all. They are always put together, very social, always on time, and just really nice and easy going people. They never have a complaint, and their children are so well behaved and so well mannered. Though recently I’ve seen just a few little hints that there may be an excess of stress, but only tiny, seemingly unimportant signs.

So all morning at home I’ve been distracted thinking about this family, the mom who is carrying so much weight on her shoulders, and her sweet little girl whose tiny (and I mean minute!) innocent “mistake” has her feeling so bad, and her already stressed parents feeling more frustration. I’ve been so distracted in fact that I overcooked my hubby’s breakfast and I started a hundred things and have yet to finish one. I’ve been wishing I could see this sweet little girl and tell her it’s ok. I want to tell her I’m sorry her feelings were hurt, and I’m sorry that grown ups sometimes get a little carried away and say things they shouldn’t to kids. While I am not the one that hurt her, I want to be a grown up that shows her she deserves kindness and respect.

As my husband and I finished our walk (which is where we encountered this mom friend) I just kept replaying our conversation in my head, and it just stuck out in my mind that this is such an obvious example of how important it is to just be kind, to listen, and to not judge because you just don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors. When I heard the story, it made the little mistakes and forgotten things that were already so minor completely excusable. But what bothered me, what stuck out in my mind, is how quick we are to judge and get angry over little things that would be ok if we knew the story. But why do we need the story? What makes it our business (other than if they want to share to ask for help or just need someone to listen)? Why do we sometimes only have compassion when there is bad stuff, then we have pity and we excuse all?  I was reminded this morning to think before I speak, and to realize that I just might make a difference in someone’s day just by what I say.

Be Kind. That Is All

Adoption IS an Option

Did you know that in 2012, in the United States alone, 995,867 abortions were performed? That is nearly 1 million babies killed! Is that number alarming and overwhelming to anyone else but me? Does it hurt your heart like it does mine to hear such a startlingly high number? Perhaps I’m naive, or maybe even ignorant, but I had no idea that so many abortions happened here in our own back yard every year!

Infertility seems almost like an epidemic in our country, and so many couples are turning to adoption as the way to bring love, joy, and completion to their families. So I wonder, when a woman goes to a clinic for an abortion, how educated is she on her options? Does she truly realize the seriousness of what she is about to do? Does she realize she has another option? One that will take sacrifice on her part, for sure, but that will spare her child’s life, and even give it the full and abundant life it deserves?

I realize that there are exceptions to every rule. I understand people have their “justification” for their abortion, and I understand that adoption is not an easy choice, and it doesn’t always turn out perfect. I do get that. But overall adoption is a very loving alternative to abortion, and I would love to see more education and awareness about it.

I write about my own personal adoption experience in hopes of helping others realize how fulfilling and amazing adoption can be. But going forward I will be finding other ways to try to give a voice to those poor babies who are aborted instead of given the chance to fulfill their life’s destiny. I will try to be a voice for couples whom God has called to adopt the child He created for them through another birthmother. And I will be a supportive and educational voice to birthmothers facing the hardest choices they have ever made.

One small way I will get started is by spreading the word about a small adoption business, adoption.net, which inspired me to write this post, and which has become my motivation and my call to action. Adoption.net is (according to their website) passionate about changing the world through adoption, and they are working to spread the word about a third option that covers both pro life and pro choice options- adoption. Intuit is running a contest for a small business to win a superbowl commercial, and adoption.net has made it to the second round. Please help me spread the word about such an amazing cause by taking just a second of your time (literally) to vote for them to be recognized on one of the largest national commercial stages possible. The link is https://www.smallbusinessbiggame.com/CA/AdoptionNET/385565. Thank you so much!

Adoption IS an Option

Is Fertility an Issue For Those Who Choose Not to Parent?

My brother and sister in law have decided they will not have children. Period. They adore their nieces and nephews, and dote on the neighbors kids. But when it comes to raising their own, that is just not in their plans. And that’s ok. I may not understand not wanting to parent (and I know they would be fabulous parents!), but I certainly respect and possibly even admire their honesty and their consideration. Parenting is not for everyone! In fact, perhaps more people should decide parenting is not the best choice for their personal life. But I can’t help but wonder…

If people who decided they did not want to bring kids into their life knew they absolutely could not biologically have children, if they could never physically know the feeling of being a part of creating a new life, would they still not want to. Would they be joyous? Would they see it as an answer to their prayers? As an affirmation that they’ve made the right choice? Or would they experience the feeling of failure, of loss, that so many couples facing fertility issues feel?

As a woman who struggled for many years with trying to conceive, I know that I always felt my body was failing me, like it was letting me down. I would tell myself all the right things- that God had other plans for me (which he obviously did! Even better plans than I could have imagined!), and that it wasn’t the right time. But deep down I still beat myself up. I thought I did something wrong. I thought I didn’t deserve to know the love a mother feels for her children.

So I have to wonder if couples who choose to remain childless would still know that they didn’t want to bring children into the world anyway, or would they wonder what might have been? Would the man feel less of a man because he could not give his wife a child if she had wanted that? Would a woman feel like her body was broken, even though she never intended for it to carry a child?

If people are being brutally honest, these are the things they feel when they want to grow their family and it does not happen easily, or traditionally. But I just wonder if they feel that way when they are not intending to grow their family. These are the things I ponder!

Is Fertility an Issue For Those Who Choose Not to Parent?

When Doing the "Right Thing" is Completely Wrong

Epic Mom fail this morning! I sent my daughter to school in tears. Why? I wouldn’t let her wake up her dad to say good morning because then we would be running late. Seriously? I can’t let her say a quick good morning to Daddy before school because I can’t let her be a couple minutes late? Really not even late, necessarily, just skating in between the first and second bells.

And what makes this even worse? Let me just tell on myself even further. This is such an epic mom fail because my husband had been out of town for the last ten days and got home long after she was in bed asleep last night. She missed him and couldn’t wait to see him and give him “lots of hugs and kisses”, and I insist on doing the “right thing” and leaving right on time for school instead of allowing her those couple extra minutes to say hi. Talk about feeling bad all day. And to top it off, on the way to school I had to mention she didn’t put on any jewelry, which just made the tears fall faster and harder. Poor little girl was off to a rough start on a Monday morning. Oh, but I did the “right thing” by being right on time for school. Oh please!

So after tattling on myself and putting my big failure out there for the world, please let me offer up my defense. So what happened is….Bella got up with her alarm (yes, she’s a big girl at 7 now and likes to wake up by herself) and came down and sat, no snuggled, on the couch. I came out of my room, offered up sweet good mornings and told her we couldn’t lay around, that she needed to get her bed made and get dressed while I got her breakfast. After some grumbling about not wanting to go to school and just wanting to stay home and play with Tater and see Daddy, she trudged her way upstairs to begin getting ready, or so I thought. Remembering it was PE day at school I went upstairs to remind her to wear shorts and a t shirt as opposed to some fancy, cutesy outfit since she would be outside in the heat of the day. When I open her door guess who is picking out an outfit…for her Build A Bear. Yep! Still not doing what she needs to get done (although to her credit, she had made her bed). So I gently reminded her that if she did not get dressed and get her hair brushed quickly she may not have time for breakfast before school, and really the only person she was hurting was herself, because I could come home and eat whatever I wanted (ok, a little unnecessary jab, perhaps, but she needed a reality check). And would I really let her go without breakfast? Of course not! But still.

I’ll spare you the rest of the details of the morning and get right to the point. She was dawdling, I was getting frustrated, it was 5 minutes after we normally leave the house, and she wants to wake up Daddy still. I was trying to make a point of doing what’s right and not being late, and because of her choice to dawdle the morning away, something had to give. The problem with my point was that it hurt her. She didn’t miss out on having the hair do she wanted, or having to settle for a less than desired breakfast or outfit. She didn’t miss out on stopping for a treat before school. No, she missed out on seeing her daddy, whom she was really missing and just wanted to say good morning to. This is the problem with being a mom, a woman, who stands firm on principle. Sometimes, this time, the “right thing”, the principle, was completely and utterly the wrong thing!

When Doing the "Right Thing" is Completely Wrong

A Letter to the Teacher

To my daughter’s teacher,

When I dropped my child off to you this morning you asked if there was anything else you should know about her, any special instructions or information that may be useful or necessary for you to successfully take her in your care for the day. I said no because I didn’t want to take your time and attention away from your students so deserving of your undivided attention, and I am confident it won’t take long for you to discover just how special my little girl is all on your own.  But in all actuality, my answer to you wasn’t completely honest. You see my precious baby does not have any “special” needs, no food allergies or physical or mental limitations. She does not have any social or emotional needs that require special attention, so I guess technically no, there isn’t “anything else” outside of our contact info and her going home info that is absolutely necessary for you to know immediately.

Really though, yes, this little beauty does come with her own set of special instructions. You see, she is not just another 7 year old smiling face all decked out in her brand new Justice outfit (fully accessorized, I might add) and shiny new shoes, with her carefully chosen backpack and lunchbox. No, she is MY precious 7 year old who is growing up too fast, who acts brave and tough, but who has a beautiful sweet heart. She is my little miraculous gift from God, and by leaving her in your care, I am inviting you into her life; therefor I have some special instructions that I need you to follow in order to help me fulfill my promises I made to my angel, and to God when He entrusted her to me.

Please be tough, but tender. Be firm and strong in your rules, but please be loving and kind.

Keep your expectations of her high, but please be forgiving of her mistakes, and celebrate her achievements whole-heartedly.

Please, I beg you, be a great example for her, be a positive role model. Because she is looking to you for guidance, and she puts all her trust in you. Whatever you do, please protect her love and respect for teachers.

Teach her to work hard, but to have fun too.

Foster her creativity, and nurture her inquisitive mind. She is a big thinker with big dreams and so much going on in that sweet little head. Please appreciate her individuality, and love her for all her spunk and silliness.

Please encourage and uplift her. By all means, teach her to accept and appreciate constructive criticism, but never compromise her sense of self-worth.

Encourage her to own her mistakes and make them right (whether it be with her friends or her school work), and to treat others as she would like them to treat her.

Always be honest! Please, please be honest. Honesty builds trust, and trust is the true foundation of strong relationships.

Thank you for taking the time to read my special instructions for my unique, free-spirited little girl. I know that she is going to grow and thrive in your class, and I sure hope you enjoy and appreciate all the sass and spirit and fun she will bring to your second grade class. Have a wonderful school year!

 

 

A Letter to the Teacher

They're Going to be Parents!!

Yesterday I saw that a couple I’ve been following on Facebook found out they’ve been matched with a birthmother and will soon be parents. Chills came over me, and the memories and emotions came flooding back…

You gave her life, and you are trusting me to teach her to live it. You grew this precious little being inside of you as you were wracked with fear, doubt, and uncertainty. I have searched for her my whole life. I know this has not been an easy road for you, and I can only imagine the pain you will continue to feel. I hope I can bring you an inkling of comfort, and a lifetime of peace with my story; and, more importantly, with the promises I make to you, and to this perfect innocent child.

You cannot believe the thrill I feel, the way my heart is beating out of my chest, the way I feel all warm inside, and the love and pride that is radiating from me and out to that sweet baby. You see you have instantly given me a beautiful new identity. One that most women have nine months to grow into (literally!); but one that was literally overnight for me! And one that seemed out of reach for me. As you know, motherhood was not a nine-month journey of carrying my baby in my womb; nourishing her and adjusting to having her depend on me for life. No, I instead faced years of disappointment month after month after month each time I realized that my body had failed me once again, that I had not been able to conceive a child. I had a failed pregnancy that was a tragic loss of my child and of my dreams.  I faced a nine-month journey of paperwork and background checks and letters and scrapbooks for potential birthmothers. I faced a seemingly endless wait for a miraculous young woman to find me and believe in me, to believe that I can be a great mom! That I have so much love to give. That I can be trusted to raise this little girl to be a beautiful soul, to love beyond measure, to be smart and assertive, and sweet and gentle.

Yesterday when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw a fragile, sometimes self-loathing, hard-working, loving daughter, sister, aunt, and wife. No, my appearance hasn’t changed. Well, not really. I mean, yes, my hair is stringy and my eyes are dark and sunk in from exhaustion, but overall my small framed, blond haired, hazel-eyed self looks about the same. But I see someone totally different. Today I see a beautiful, glowing, happy (though slightly terrified) Mommy looking back at me! I see a confident woman who is overflowing with love for her beautiful new daughter. Wow! I said it. My daughter! I see a woman filled with gratitude and admiration for a woman who is so strong that she can place her trust in another woman to do the job that she is just not physically or mentally able to do right now.

So I promise you I will be the best mom I can be for her! I know, I know, that sounds so simple. But I know it’s not. I know it’s the most important job I will ever have, and not one that I take lightly. I promise you I will love her unconditionally. I will build her up. I will encourage her. I will have high expectations of her, and always believe in her.  I will teach her faith, love, honesty, courage, and kindness.

And these are a few of my promises to her. I will always do my best to live my life as an example for her of God’s expectations of His children. I will always consider how my thoughts, decisions, and actions impact her, and what lesson they are teaching her.  I will raise her in a loving home surrounded by family.  I will only invite people into her life who will support her and uplift her. I will keep her near the beach so she grows up appreciating the beauty of God’s creation. I will teach her to work hard, but to have lots of fun. I will teach her to love fully and unashamedly. I will teach her to face her fears, and to not be held back by them.

I want you to know that I am forever grateful to you for your enormous act of strength, and that you will always be in my thoughts and in my heart.  I have lived my entire life for this dream that you have made my reality, for this new name, Mom, which I will wear with pride. I will never take this gift, this precious baby girl for granted. I hope that you find comfort and peace in that promise.

 

They're Going to be Parents!!

Tell Me I'm Not the Only One!

I think it’s happening…I think we’re becoming those people. Those everyday ordinary regular people who are just busy. All the time, busy. I guess that’s what happens when you work, have 3 kids, an adoption, an appointment with the tax man…and in case things weren’t crazy enough we added a puppy to that mix! I’m looking for a little “down time” and instead we added another little one that needs lots of care and attention. We have lost our minds. I just know it! Well at least our new addition is sweet and cute, and kind of irresistible.

How Mommy Feels!!

Really, down time is not necessarily what I need anyway. I mean, I do have time to sit here and write (not that I can really always concentrate, but…) and I do get to take my kids to do various fun things, and we sleep in, or try to anyway.  And my husband is happy to do super hero training with the kids on the weekend while I shop or go walk along the Causeway. So yeah, I know. Your level of sympathy for me has just plummeted. Hit rock bottom in fact. But that’s ok. Sympathy isn’t really what I need. I mean I really have nothing to complain about. Not really. It’s just that I’m tired, and I miss my husband, and I think a little peace and quiet for just a few moments sounds heavenly. Have you been there, done that?

In trying to figure out why I’m so tired, I have concluded that the noise of bickering children is loud and stressful. Very stressful! And when we go from one child who only plays make believe games by herself so minimal arguing occurs, to three children who compete to be the best, fastest, smartest, silliest, cutest, whatever-est, the stressful sounds escalate, and the stress level increases three fold. Now my children are not necessarily always fighting. Not with each other in real life anyway. But if they aren’t battling it out as three normal siblings, they’re competing as super heroes, or sci-fi creatures, or video game crusaders, all of whom must battle. Loud. I mean really loud. And that can be enough to push this mom over the edge.

So as the saying “if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen” goes, I can’t take the noise so I get out of the house. We get out of the house. And then my children magically transform into conversationalists (sometimes!). We talk, they tell me stories, and we typically all get along. Seriously, I can take them most anywhere and they’re so easy to manage. They usually get along well, and they will listen well. And they’re typically polite and respectful. So why am I so stressed when we’re home? Because they are vying for my/ our attention (since Mark is often working, and I’m often trying to write). Hello, Blondie! That one just hit me. Of course they’re the best kids ever when it’s all about them. Of course they love when Mark plays outside with them, or I take them to the park then 7-11 for Slurpees. Of course they like swimming, bowling, and going to the movies with us. And they even love sitting together as a family to watch Cupcake Wars, or a movie. This is because it’s all about kids. And it usually is, until at least 10:00 every night. Thus the reason I say I miss my husband!

We work so hard to make summer special and fun for the kids, and why wouldn’t we? Summer vacation is supposed to be playtime. It’s supposed to be fun and silly and whimsical. And since our family time with all five of us is limited we really try to maximize and make the most of it. And for the most part I love it! We all love it! But I sure do have my moments of missing grown up time with my hubby, of craving a date night, of wanting to have an uninterrupted, un-listened to by little ears conversation. Hmm… I wonder if the kids sometimes crave the structure of going to school each day. Do they miss their early bedtimes and required daily study time? Do they miss playtime with friends at school, without their parents knowing every single thing they do? Maybe, just maybe they do!

Tell Me I'm Not the Only One!

Fabulous 40!

Forty is FABULOUS! It truly is. A few months back I was feeling a little down about hitting the big 4-0, a natural feeling it seems. It’s not that 40 seemed so old, necessarily, or that I didn’t want to hit 40, because Lord knows that’s much better than the alternative of not making it. It’s just that 40 sounds so grown up and mature. 40 didn’t really sound like me, it didn’t quite seem to fit me. Not that I’m immature (though I have been known to whine and even possibly pout on occasion, and I giggle when my husband says a “dirty” word), I just don’t want to be “settled” and “content”, and I’m not ready to sit back and let life just happen. So naturally the thought of turning forty was a little frightening.

Since 40 was going to come, I had decided I wanted to live it up. I wanted to make it fun! I wanted an adult night out with friends and family. I wanted to go to a comedy club, or cosmic bowling. Something a 30- something mom just doesn’t get too many opportunities to do. I guess I wanted to party like I was turning 21 (since that coming of age was not a big party at all!) Anyway, that’s what I thought I wanted.

Lucky for me my husband listens to me, knows me so well, and is very in tune to me. Because he planned a birthday for me like none other, filled with all the things I love most (mostly my family!). He and my daughter put their heads (and thoughtful ideas) together and decided I deserved 40 all about me surprises for my big 4-0. And all three kids and my dear sweet hubby came up with all the things they thought I would love. Fabulous!!

Forty days before “the” big day my husband presented me with a beautiful ceramic flip flop jewelry box hand painted by none other than the man himself. So personal and made with love. Perfection! Another day he presented me with a delicious box of chocolates and just announced “number 39!” Hmm..okay.

The eve of my departure from a decade of much, much change and growth in my life into a new frontier brought a buzz of excitement in our house. Mark was driving the boys down from North Carolina to spend the summer with us, and everyone had lots to do to make the next day a success. Well, everyone but me that is. I just had to sit and wait and wonder. And ponder what 40 is all about. I had lots of time to think about how I really felt about turning 40. And you know what I realized? I was pretty keyed up about it.

My 40th birthday did bring tons of love and fun surprises, and an adventure too! I was pampered (think new hair do, mani/ pedi, sweet tea, breakfast hosted by my sweet hubby and kids with my parents included, jewelry, shopping, movies) and surprised (my car windows were tinted for me, I got a star named after me, we had family photos with my parents once again included, a lovely surprise dinner and family party at home after). I get to do something I’ve never done before- sky surfing! And I enjoyed my surprise family day more than I could have ever liked  a comedy club or cosmic bowling. What was I thinking! But the other thing this decade change brought me was realization.

I realize that 40 is fabulous because I am content and settled. That doesn’t mean I’m boring or old. It doesn’t mean I have to sit back and let life pass me by. I don’t even have to start wearing  tent dresses or mom jeans! It does mean that I’m just me, and there’s no one I’d rather be. It means 40 is just the next number after 39. It is not a number that changes my identity. It is not an age that transforms me over night. I’m still just a young (at heart anyway) mom wearing my slightly ripped up jeans and flip flops with a fitted tee, and being the best mom I know how to be. I’m still a woman pursuing a dream of writing. I’m still a wife who adores my husband and giggles like a school girl at his jokes.  I’m still a friend who enjoys some girl time. I’m still just me. A little older, a little wiser, a lot more confident, and a lot more comfortable with who I am. Happy 40th to me!

*My 40th was back in June, but for some reason this post kept me stumped. I knew I wanted to write it, the words just weren’t coming out right. Could it be because we’ve barely been home since then? Or that I have three crazy kids keeping things hectic around the house? Anyway…better late than never! 

 

Fabulous 40!