Honestly

Do you see this picture? This crazy, fuzzy, motion-filled, imperfect picture? 

This depicts life in our home.

Someone recently said something to me about how I must only show the highlights of our life as a family of four. I can understand why she might think that. But it honestly irked me.

There are a few reasons for why it irked me and it's taken me some time to digest and navigate.

First, life in our house is far from perfect. Of course it can't be perfect! There are four personalities attempting to live under one roof. Four needs and wants that aren't always met. That makes for a lot of lowlights (the opposite of highlights) and shadows, and tears, and unpleasant moments.

Secondly, I find it disrespectful to post pictures of any of my children crying, screaming, or in any way unhappy. I'd be incredibly upset if someone posted a picture of me at my worst and mocked me for my emotions. They don't have access to social media now, but one day they will, and I want them to feel comfortable knowing that I haven't embarrassed them or shamed them for being human. I've done my best to embrace those emotions in our home, but it won't happen on social media. We have journals we are writing to each of the kids and I will write those things personally, if/when needed.

It's not that I want to paint the picture that life is only full of rainbows and sunshine. I'd love to tell you that's all I've experienced in this life, but it's just not true. Life is messy and dusty and new. Life can be full and empty. Life is hard and broken. Life is soft and fixed. Life is sharing, giving, and taking. Life is a daring adventure.

I once read a quote that said, "Behind every good kid is a mother who's sure she's screwed it all up." Or something like that.

I get to the end of every day and wonder, and pray, and hope that I've not ruined everything. Hoped that there would be grace where my edges were raw, where my emotions flipped for little reason, and that my children would know, first and foremost, how deeply they are loved.

My social media sites are full of what I want my children to know and remember and hear. It's full of what I want to savor. It's full of the goodness I want to seek, the moments I want to cherish, and the celebrations that should be lavishly enjoyed. I share my heart here, but it is certainly censored for our own privacy and to respect those I love so dearly, and myself.

I choose wonder, hope, and light in the midst of it all. If I didn't then I'm not sure how I'd get out of bed in the morning, or rest my head at night. These years won't last forever and I want to slow down, enjoy, and notice them.

Here Comes the Sun...

Here are a few cute photos from before sickness struck...

And then...

I noticed this little fellow was a bit droopy and dreary-eyed in the swing that evening.

 The next morning he threw up several times. I changed clothes and washed hands between caring for each boy. And Jim got us into the pediatricians office, because he wanted a strep test done on Ian. Sure enough, he was right. Strep it was.

As soon as Ian started feeling better, we thought we were in the clear. The next morning Jim and I were nauseous and by the afternoon we were both passed out and trying to recover, while caring for a newborn and a toddler.

Fortunately, Jim started feeling better as I got worse and worse. Two separate runs to the pharmacy for me. I ended up with Strep, too. Fun times. I thin we are finally on the upswing. The most any of us have been sick since becoming parents. Whew. What a week.

The biggest blessing? Owen has remained healthy the entire time! Hooray for breast milk and antibodies!!!

Now it's time to enjoy some sunshine and spring, eh?

It Won't Be Like This For Long

Owen whimpers. I pry my eyes open and wait to see if it's his real wake-up or just a whimper as he changes position. I give myself the okay to sleep just a little longer, seeing that he's already drifted off to sleep. My body moves in and out of sleep and rest, sleep and rest. Owen whimpers and grows continually restless and just as I go to lift him off of his comfy sheepskin in the cosleeper next to me, he lets out an audible cry.

Ian, who apparently has the ears of a Greater Wax Moth (just looked it up- apparently it has incredible hearing capabilities!), can detect an Owen cry from anywhere in the house. Immediately, my door clicks open and he asks, "Mama, are you awake?" At least it's not, "Mama, I have a poopy." That's a common wake-up call around here.

Caught red-handed, I am awake, with a crying baby in my hands and I am preparing to nurse. My body and eyes beg to stay in rest-mode, but my toddler is on to me. My eyes are, in fact, open and I am holding a baby that's interested in nursing and falling back to sleep. It happens every morning. Owen returns to sleep, but I have been caught and ensnared in the sleep-robber's trap ;)

We have a great routine in the mornings. Jim greets Ian in the morning, since he usually hasn't left for work yet. He gives him milk and an apple and turns on Pandora on our TV. Ian asks to listen to music. Jim gets ready to leave and says goodbye to Ian. Then he plays with toys until he hears sounds of life from within our bedroom, which leads us back to Owen's whimpers.

Normally we're into the seven o'clock hour before my door is opened, sometimes even eight. It's lovely. It hasn't always been like this, so I know how wonderful this is. When Owen first came home Ian's wake-up call was in the five o'clock hour. Yeesh. That was rough.

Groggy and ready for coffee, I lay Owen back down to slumber peacefully on his sheepskin while I rip myself out of bed to greet the day. Ian often has a book or two for me to read as soon as I admit that I am awake and we read those while snuggled in my bed.

Then it's time for coffee.

And, then it's time to make breakfast.

Breakfast is possibly my favorite meal of the day. As a pregnant or breastfeeding mom, eggs have become my staple breakfast in the morning. I love, love, love making scrambled eggs with added ingredients, delicious omelettes, or "Friday" eggs with bread or a slice of leftover pie. It's not a meal to skimp on, for me. It's the start of the day and it's to be savored.

Ian knows and expects that breakfast will take some time to make. Lately, it's been a really pleasant time of the day. He's content after reading books and snuggling with me for a bit, so he finds his animals and settles down to play independently. Owen's napping soundly for another thirty or forty-five minutes.

Pandora still plays in the background, with comforting music.

Once breakfast is ready, Ian washes his hands, gets us utensils, and comes to sit with me at the table. We chat and eat until Owen rustles and I fetch him to join us at the table.

It's the only time of the day that seems to have any consistency.

After breakfast or during it's time for me to nurse Owen and we move to the couch. Ian brings me books to read, shows me toys, or plays near us.

Depending on the day, I start to feel pressure to clean up for guests, or to get the ball moving to get us out the door. Not this day, though. No PMO today, as we have any other Monday. So we settled deeper into the couch and into just being.

Pandora shuffled through. I looked up just as a song was starting to see, "It Won't Be Like This For Long" start. I listened to each word as I watched my boys move and play. The next one was "You're Gonna Miss This."

Ian turned to me and said, "Mama, you wanna dance with me? You wanna hold my hands and dance with me?"

Umm.

You bet!!!
There's nothing I would rather do in this moment.

And so we did. We danced. We did circles around the living room, we tapped our feet, and we held hands. He gazed up at me with eyes full of love and joy like all of his dreams were coming true.

It won't be like this for long.
I'm really going to miss these days.

I could not help but smile.

No tears this time,
just smiles and beaming at my children who think it's the bees knees to be in our arms,
holding our hands,
and dancing with them.

Capturing Motherhood

One of the hardest things for me as a mama is experiencing the time flying by. I just want to seize time, give it a good talking to, and make it stop.

And then, as each day comes, I am in awe of the new and exciting changes in emotional, physical, and lingual developments. It's a dynamic life we live in these early years of fostering love, creativity, & problem-solving. I learn over and over again that tomorrow has its joys, too.

 But now that I have a newborn on my chest again, I am given a clear reminder of how fleeting each day and month of these first few years really are. Wasn't it just yesterday that Ian was on my chest drifting off to sleep after a solid nursing, and not waking up to every sound in the room?

Now he goes to sleep by himself, behind a closed door, listening to music, after we've completed his bedtime routine. He's much more independent, interactive, and calculated. And it's wonderful in its own way.

Holding a newborn, listening to the purrs on my chest, feeling the occasional jerk of his reflexes, and smelling that sweet newborn smell is its own kind of wonderful & lovely.

 Since I know that time stops for no one, I didn't want more time to pass without a few pictures of me with this darling boy. Time gets away from us during this harried season of life.

Photos are the only way I know to stop time. I look back at photos from our road trip out west, our wedding, Ian's short life, and memories flood back to me. I cannot wait for the day that we have all of these blog post printed in books on the shelf.

With Christine coming for a few days, I knew I'd have someone who would be patient and take a bunch of photos, and not judge me for asking for just a few more. She willingly took some of a nice afternoon with me outside to snap them. Thank you, Christine! I am forever grateful.

This go-around, I am trying to be much more loving in my thoughts toward my body. It took 9 months to make Owen, and it will take months to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight. And my body will never necessarily be the same again. And why should it be? It brought two miracles into this world. Shouldn't my heart and body be forever changed? My body made a human and now my body is capable of feeding that human from my own body for his first year of life. That's amazing. And that's worth celebrating.

I am forever changed for the better. These boys are daily teaching me lessons in love, forgiveness, weakness, and strength. Sacrifice and patience, grace and discipline. This life is challenging; it pushes me to my limits and then pushes me a little farther. I love this quote from Mother Teresa: "I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." Love just expands.

 Owen's been such a sweet and wonderful little lad. He's cuddly and content to spend the days on my chest or in my arms. Baby-wearing is a blessed gift for getting things done and loving Ian well, by having my hands free and able to play with him, while snuggling Owen close.

In the evenings Owen normally has some gas and can be upset, but normally he immediately calms down as soon as the gas is relieved or he soils his diaper. Who can blame him? Other than that short period of the day, he's a very happy chap.

My heart literally burns when he's on my chest. I love this photo of him lying there. There's a warmth that emanates from my body and into him when he's on me. The bond between a mama and her child is one amazing thing! He just feels right when he's on my chest. He was with me for nine months in the womb, so it only makes sense that the two of us would have a need to be together.

Getting to stay at home with my children in these early years is the greatest privilege and I know each interaction is shaping their understanding of emotions, of language, and of the world. I know I have taken some moments and days for granted, but I desperately want to be intentional and present in this season and every season of motherhood.

 I LOVE THIS ONE. That sweet yawn.

"I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love."- Mother Teresa

This quote really struck a chord with me recently. I have found this to be true in motherhood and in every other area of my life, but especially in mothering my young children. The more love I pour in, the more love there is. And sometimes it really does feel painful, but it always acts as a salve to my own wounds and calms the tears and tensions around me.

What a gift. What a miracle.

And what complete and utter joy.

This fellow certainly loves to be held, and especially by his mama. I am so happy to indulge him. These days won't last forever. You'll find me wearing, rocking, and loving my baby.

Thank you, Jim, for supporting and encouraging me so well in this gig called motherhood. 

And thank you for the two little ones we get to parent together. 

I am so grateful to have these moments of time captured. To freeze these moments. These stills show far more to me than what meets the eye. My senses engage and my heart skips a few beats. For when the beds are empty and the rooms are quiet, I'll be able to recall the long nights, the squeals of delight, the calls of my name in the wee hours, the cries for milk, the scattering thunder of blocks across the living room, and the pitter patter of bare feet across the wood floors. I want these pictures to dredge up every memory of this busy, harried, and weathering season.

In the end, I want to remember hugging more, kissing bumps & bruises, saying "yes" more than "no," building towers, eating "Friday" eggs (what Ian calls fried eggs) in the morning, spending all afternoon outside or at the playground instead of doing laundry. I want to remember building with blocks or assisting through puzzles rather than emptying the dishwasher. I want to have stains on my clothes rather than stress over my appearance and having it "all together." Motherhood's messy, tedious, & busy, but even more so, it's full, dynamic, and beautiful.

These posts and pictures are my attempt at capturing these years and our lives so that I can look back years from now. Years ahead, in the future, when I am quietly sitting and drinking coffee that's actually warm and eggs that are fresh out of the pan, after taking a shower whenever I want. Life will be full then, too, but not as every minute seems to be right now. 

Right now, as I literally wait for my chance to get a shower. Instead, I sit with a sleeping babe in the carrier on my chest. I sit listening to him breath and I can't help but kiss the cheek that sticks out invitingly from under the Boba. Regular/spontaneous showers and warm, even hot, coffee can wait. Time and this sweet baby will just keep moving. 

Thank goodness for pictures.

The Darndest Things

The best things about parenting are the front-row seats we get to the life of our child. At this age, at least, we get to experience the full-throttled joys of his accomplishments and two year-old excitements, but we also are there to soothe the heartaches of social struggles, and the bumps and bruises of a toddler who doesn't slow down. Our kisses solve every problem and our smiles show him that we are there, we saw what he engineered, and we couldn't be more proud. Our corrections hurt more than anyones, but he knows that we will always scoop him up to comfort, listen, and begin again. We have the best seats in the house. And there's no way we're giving them up.

That's why it's hard to be apart! We want to see everything and hear every word. 

But this kid handles separation like a champ, we've learned. He's secure and confident, knowing that we'll always return. Going to the hospital was no different. We'd prepared, explained, and discussed the plan daily for weeks. 

In the end, our friend Barb came over for the night and brought Ian back to her house before her husband needed to go to work. Barb said that Ian wasn't phased by her presence and knew that we were at the hospital, almost as soon as he saw her. He knew. He understood. And he was strong. We'd be back.

Mom arrived that morning and brought him straight to the hospital. When she wasn't sure where exactly to go when they pulled up to the hospital, Ian told her. He knew where to go, since he'd come with me on the tour. We'd discussed how Äma would bring him to see us. He knew. He even knew the location and what the building looked like. That boy. My heart bursts. We are so proud.

So, here's a post all about him. A post about what he's saying lately. He says the cutest and darndest things. 

He's learning our language and so there are a few phrases that he says that just make us smile... I won't remember all of them, but I'll at least get some of them written down before they evaporate out of this mom's brain.

When he's hurt or has something to show you he says, "Look, I have..." He doesn't finish the sentence, he just wants to point out that he has something. "Look, look, look... I have..."

 When you have something that he would like to have he says, "Can you please just not have that?" Haha!

 Many sentences start with "You just..." For example, "You just need a drink, Mama?" Or, "Oh, Owen's just upset!" Or, "Leif just caught the ball, Mama!"

Another phrase he says is "We probly _______." For example, "We probly go home and have some lunch." Or, "Those monkeys probly climb the tree to rest."

One morning, while eating breakfast, he was trying to tell me something and I wasn't quite sure what he was talking about. After listening for a while I finally figured it out and said, "Oh, ________ is what you were saying?" He responded with, "Yes, that's what I'm talking about!!" He was so exuberant and excited in his response. To be understood & acknowledged is a lifelong desire, isn't it? I just loved the way he had his own phrase with the same meaning to match my response. It surprised me, really.

One of my favorite things he's said came this morning when he noticed that Jim has some stubble under his beard on his neck. He said something like, "Look, look, you have..." and rubbed Jim's neck.  And then he said, "You have a beard so you can play rugby, Papa?" 

Hmm, interesting logic. And oh so funny!

Another wonderful thing about parenting is having someone to share the joys, the sayings, the challenges, laughs, and tears with you. Daily we debrief the day, sharing stories in front of Ian if he's still awake when Jim gets home, or showing videos and photos long after he's gone to bed. The darndest things happen in parenting, too. We need all the support we can get from each other.

39 Weeks

39 weeks, folks. It's getting real...

We're soaking up all of the cuddles we can. Attempting to listen in, lean in, and love well during some pretty difficult tantrums. Partly because he's sick, partly because he's 2 and four months, and partly because we all know that life is soon about to change a WHOLE lot.

 This guy is getting under-foot even more than usual. Christine told me that's a sign that labor is nigh...

 Until he/she decides to make their appearance, we are trying to prepare as best we can and keep things as normal as possible.

We're almost a family of four!

"Good Night, Sweet Dreams, I Love You"

My family always said the words above before going to bed. In that order. It's a tradition.

I've been saying it to Ian each night, too. Tonight I added one more sentence while hugging him. See the exchange below.

Me: I love you so much, Ian.
Ian: I lob (love) you too much, Mama.

Swoon.

This whole parenthood thing is pretty amazing.

Follow Your Gut

I have to share the latest development that has me SO VERY THRILLED!!

Much of my parenting journey has been a struggle between following my mama's instinct and wanting to know and do what's best for my child, based on research. Ugh! It was a battle to find the balance. In the second year, I was much better about only following my gut rather than asking for advice and searching for articles every time I wanted guidance.

I can already tell that I will be much more relaxed for the second child. I truly believe that you have to do what works best for YOUR child and YOUR family. That's all that matters.

Well, we certainly took the route of survival when it came to nursing and sleeping and raising Ian. During his pregnancy we were determined not to co-sleep and then immediately chose to co-sleep on the night we brought him home from the hospital. We never turned back. We had to in order to survive. That's what Ian wanted and needed. And, in the end, it's been a really beautiful journey.

We nursed until he started really slowing down and it became a bit too painful and much during this pregnancy. The last time he nursed was during his 22nd month. That was much longer than I ever expected we would.

Co-sleeping and breastfeeding have been truly incredible adventures.

Due to the fact that we co-sleep, I had been lying down with Ian until he fell asleep for both naptimes and bedtimes. We'd read books, sing songs, and then lie next to each other until he fell asleep and I would leave the room.

In the last two weeks, I found a new pattern and routine that's worked for us. He loves to say, "I'll be right back, Mama" and then leaves and returns.  Or, he doesn't mind it if I say it and come back. He even repeated it the whole time I was at the beach... "Mama be right back." He feels secure in that we will always return for him and that's a wonderful thing. A fantastic bond that's been built.

Well, I have started telling him that I will be back to check on him after he falls asleep. We read books, sing songs, and then hug and kiss before I leave the room. He has fallen to sleep for naps and nights for a week now, comfortable and secure in the fact that he is safe in his own bed and without his mama.

This has given me so much extra time in the evenings and more freedom in the afternoons. It's given him independence and an ability to fall asleep, securely loved, but on his own. I am so glad that we waited and did this at his own speed, even though it was certainly challenging and exhausting at times. He's able to come to us if he needs to, but he doesn't choose to.

This weekend we were at my parents' house and he needed me to return to the room once or twice more each night, but this was only for extra hugs and kisses. Extra reassurance in a place other than our home. It was a need and it was met. He then felt secure and fell asleep.

Every child is different. This is what Ian needed. He is a truly active and busy child by day, sits very still for book after book, loves hugs and kisses, and by night, he loves cuddling.

Our next step will be trying to move him back into his own bed at night. He moved back into our bed during the first trimester of this pregnancy because he would wake once in the night, and that was too much for me. Now he sleeps through the night in our bed, but soon there will be another baby waking often. It will be best for all of us if he's in his own bed and rested (we think!). But the most recent accomplishment of falling asleep on his own, happily and contently, is huge and wonderful.

My fervent prayer is that I will be able to show our next child the same love and security, but in the strategies that work best for him/her. It will be a whole new ball game and I am trying to go into it with an open mind. We may or may not co-sleep and who knows how long our breastfeeding journey will be, but one thing's for sure... I'm going to cut myself more slack and know that eventually he or she will reach the same security that Ian has (even though sometimes it seemed like it would never come!).

New Mamas,

Follow your gut, 

lose the guilt, 

and love your child and yourself the best you can. 

Do what's best for your family.

The end.

One of the VERY few occasions Ian fell asleep on his own  (and not in the carseat/stroller) before this past week.
He was sick and obviously needed some rest.

Nine In & Nine Out

Somehow we've made it through nine months of pregnancy and nine months of infancy before I've even been able to bat my eyes. Ian has taught me what true, unconditional love can look like. He's taught me the unbelievable passion and profound depth of a parents' love.  I've felt this within myself and observed it in my husband. We are so utterly infatuated with his every giggle, whimper, and development.

There was a time when we could only dream of his hair color, his resemblance to us, and his personality. A time when we could sleep without waking fretfully to check if he is okay; a time when we didn't keep track of poopy diapers. But that time was not as full and certainly not as rich as it is now. Sleep can wait, though it truly pains me to say it sometimes. As Jim says, "We'll sleep when he's eighteen." Even then, we'll be constantly aware of his presence and his well-being. Our heart is forever moving outside of our bodies.

Here I am at four weeks, soon after we learned we were pregnant...

And I believe I was around 39-40 weeks during this picture. Our bodies are incredible, incredible vessels. Ian came right on time at 40 weeks, so this was one of the last pictures we have of our pregnancy.

Before we moved, we decided that it was FINALLY time to DO something with the belly cast. It has sat on the shelf in the nursery for the last nine months. I always wanted a comparison picture and the time was NOW.

While people had said I didn't look like I'd had a baby earlier, which was very kind, I didn't feel like I was getting back to my pre-pregnancy body until right about the time he was nine months out or 40 weeks. It's often said that this is true, but I didn't want to believe it. This past week at the beach I didn't wear a bikini, but I might have considered it had I not purchased a one-piece breastfeeding suit about a month before.

I have to admit that I have had a bit of a struggle with the process of my body changing back to "normal." I loved being pregnant and the changing of my body then. I really did. Afterward was much harder. I hope and pray that I won't be as hard on myself the next go-around, if there is another go-around.

After all, a woman's body basically climbs a mountain daily during pregnancy. A woman's body basically runs a marathon during labor. And then a woman's body has the ability to provide sustenance to an infant for the first year of their life or more. WOW. Just wow.

And I go and knock my body for how it looks. Hmmm. Something's wrong with that.

Jim's sister recently sent me this link to women who got pictures taken after labor, celebrating their bodies. It's beautiful. And they're glowing.

So, today I am celebrating nine months in and nine months out. I'm celebrating motherhood. I'm celebrating my body. I'm amazed by how much can happen and change in 80 weeks. I'm wishing I had more pictures of my changing body during those early months and of breastfeeding, if only for myself. And I'm tearily looking through old pictures of Ian and then sitting back and savoring my baby as he crawls all of the way under the bed, giggles, then finds his next tunnel to crawl under. I'm savoring that my body is still his favorite jungle gym, even when he's not nestled in my womb.

What a journey it is to be a parent.

I'm humbled

&

thankful.

Thanks for walking this road with me so far. For those struggling with this right now, you're not alone. 

Song for a *First* Child

Song For a Fith Child, by Ruth Hamilton. 1958

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth

empty the dustpan, poison the moth,

hang out the washing and butter the bread,

sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?

She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue

(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

Dishes are waiting and bills are past due

(pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).

The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew

and out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo

but I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.

Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?

(lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
for children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

So true. So teary-eyed.

You can find us rocking our baby.

For we were once roos, too.

Nailed It.

This is an awesome article on the first year of being a mother/parent. I am going to be reading this often throughout this year. Thank you, Mary, for passing this along!

Papa & Ian

I read and read and read books before he was born and they soothed and comforted me at the time, but I have had to trust my intuition VERY MUCH now that he's in my arms. Some tips have been helpful, I've returned to some books for specific information I knew I'd read/seen, and I've thrown some stuff out the window. This article has been my favorite since he was born.

Ten True Things About the First Year of Parenthood

"Here’s the truth: you don’t know much of anything.  A year from now,  after your fantastic kid turns one, you won’t know much of anything still.  Gather wisdom around you.  Learn from your mistakes.  Stay humble.  Stay open.  When you know better, do better.  Be a better parent tomorrow than you were today, always, everyday, as often as you can.  Try things out and leave them behind shamelessly if they don’t work out.  Life isn’t a contest or a game – it’s simply only beautifully life. Live the minutes instead of scoring them.  Love that incredible baby."

Breastfeeding at the pumpkin patch.
#7 "Start stretching because it's time to get flexible."

Please take a minute to check out this article if you're in your first year, a parent, or not! It should at least give you a couple chuckles ;)