2 years and 2 months: 2 updates

I can't believe I have a two month old and a two YEAR old! It is just absolutely crazy! I have a lovey sappy birthday post I'm working on for Owen that I plan to post next week along with pictures from our celebration this weekend, but I thought I'd do some stats and photos for both boys in one post this month since we're pretty busy around here these days!

I'm taking both boys to the doc for their check-ups on 8/5 - so I'll update with percentiles and exact measurements then inside the parentheses, but for now my attempts at home:

 
Noah at 2mo:
Weight: 13.6lbs (13lb 8oz - 90th %ile)    
Length: 24" (22 3/4" - 50th %ile)

If I'm at all close, he's gained almost 2 pounds this month and grown 3" - but we were a pound high and an inch off on our measurements at home last month - so we'll see!


Owen at 2yo:
Weight: 32.6lbs (32lb 3oz - 95th %ile)    
Height: 36-37" (35 1/2" - 80th %ile)

They say that by the time you are 2 that you are 1/2 of your adult height - so if that's true we're looking at this guy being between 6' and 6'2" - crazy to think that my "baby" could get so big!


There are about 1/2 as many pictures of Owen as there are of Noah - simply because Noah can't escape me! Owen was done with picture taking in about 1.2 seconds! I managed to get one good smile once I told him he was done! Err! Toddlers! So, with that said, we'll start with Owen.

What mom?! I'm watching my show!

At two years old, you: 

- speak in sentences almost all the time - at least 3 words, but sometimes more
- are sort of TV obsessed and love Mickey Mouse, Cars 1 & 2, Despicable Me, Toy Story 1-3
- are super compassionate and caring - you worry so much about the characters in your shows and about your friends - you hate to see anyone sad or upset
- still take one nap a day ranging from 1-3 hours
- only use your binky in bed and in the car - we transitioned you about a month ago and you are doing really well with it
- go to bed between 8:30-9:30 and sleep until about 8 each morning
- wake up and come to my bed to cuddle and watch cartoons for an hour or so before we get up and go downstairs
- love naming all your (and everyone else's) body parts and naming everyone and everything you see around you
- are CRAZY about fruit snacks - which you call "gummies"
- love your baby brother soo much and always want to make sure that he is with us - unless you are hungry/thirsty, then you want me to put him away and help you instead
- have started RUNNING away as fast as you can in stores and in public - we have had to use a little bumblebee backpack leash that my friend, L, gave us - you are starting to listen when I tell you to freeze, etc.
- have had a lot of timeouts lately, but unlike most kids your age, when I tell you to go to timeout - you listen (90% of the time) and go right to time out! You also immediately start saying you are sorry over and over!
- love construction vehicles, emergency vehicles, motorcycles - pretty much anything that goes "zoom, fast!"
- would rather drink a million cups of chocolate milk and juice than actually eat food - although you do still eat a lot
- say please, thank you, sorry, you're welcome, bless you, and I love you - without prompting - you are super polite and considerate!
- still love to be worn in the Ergo, mei tei, or the wrap
- still love to sing This Little Light of Mine, but now also love singing Old McDonald Had a Farm
- repeat the letters to spell your name but it almost always goes: 
    M: O O: O  
    M: W O: W
    M: E O: E   
    M: N O: Owen!
- started putting yourself to bed, I tell you to go to sleep and you walk upstairs and lay down - I come check on you and tuck you in, kiss, and leave - and you go to sleep
- LOVE sitting in the crack in the middle of the couch - you've decided it's your spot and tell us "sit here" pointing to the sides and will push anyone out of the middle
- call Grandma F "Grampa" and call my mom "Jessi" so you ask all the time for  Grampa and Grampa far away and Poppy and Jessi in car!
 
Owen, overall, you may be developing your own opinions and testing every boundary that you reach, but you are an amazing kid! I love you soo much and I am so proud to be your mommy! I can't wait to start you TERRIFIC TWOS! Love you, Mama

Fine, I kissed him...are we done here?

 Noah - my newest baby - oh how I love you! Owen made me a mommy, but you get to enjoy a pre-broken-in Mom - it's so much easier to enjoy everything you do this time, because I'm not so worried I'll break you like I was with your brother - and I don't have to go back to work and leave you both! It still amazes me every day that you are here and that you are mine - and I marvel at all the ways that you are so different from and so similar to your brother! I can't wait to see how those similarities and differences change as you grow! Love you - Mama

At two months old, you:

- seem to be even stronger than your brother was at this age, you roll over all the time and do super awesome pushups during tummy time
- are a happy-go-lucky guy most of the time, but when you get mad/hungry/sad/etc - you go from 0 to 60 (more like 120) in no time flat!
- love to be held and cuddled all the time and seem to dislike naps this week unless mommy is holding you, but you...
- sleep like a champ at night, you vary with when you decide night begins (somewhere between 10pm-2am) but you sleep for a solid 5 hours, nurse and go right back to sleep, followed by another 4 hours of sleep before you wake to nurse again - then you sleep for another 2-3 before you are up for the day
- have totally figured out nursing and nurse like a champ now! It seems like our overactive letdown issues have settled out and you latch right on and chow - I stopped worrying about charting when you eat, because you are growing so well and let me know what you need
- nurse every 1-3 hours, except at night - this early on it seems like every time you settle into a feeding schedule, you have another growth spurt and eat every hour again - so we'll wait a little longer to see where you settle with that
- have been more and more awake and aware during the day, you love watching us and looking all around and actually don't hate tummy time nearly as much as your brother did
- have started losing your hair - sorry buddy, probably not the last time
- LOVE Mommy most of all - makes Daddy a little sad, but I think it's just because I supply the food
- LOVE being held or carried, so I'm very glad we have all the various carriers to wear you, since I have to take care of your brother too (as I write this, you are asleep on my back in one of the woven wraps! I love that I can wear you on my back with a woven, while you are still little - it is so much easier to get things done!)
- are starting to figure out the binky but still prefer Mom - you only seem to like the NUK ones, and not the little baby ones - those are too small for you - only the big baby size for you!
- still sleep in the Rock-n-Play next to our bed (we'll probably keep you there until you stop with your middle of the night nursing session - since you'll share a room with your brother and we don't want you both awake in the middle of the night!)
- still have dark gray eyes, but they are getting bluer - a really bright vibrant blue
- seem to grow and change each and every day! It seems like as soon as I think I have you figured out, you can do something else or change things up on me! It is so exciting knowing that I won't miss out on all the little day to day things you do like I did with Owen while I was at work!

Mom, I am DONE with tummy time!

Boys,
I love you both SO, SO much! I was absolutely made to be your Mommy and it is my honor to raise you up to be men of God and to do great things for His glory! May you both always know how incredibly precious you are to us (Mom, Dad, and the Lord)!

Love you forever and for always - 

Momma

Traveling Alone

This was our first/second trip without J - last time he left early - this time the whole first leg of the trip was without him. Because...well, because daddy was on call - which are words that Owen will have to understand far sooner than I'd like. J also had his written boards on Thursday and if we're being completely honest O and I kinda cramp his studying style.

During this trip, we had a milestone that I never considered...our first Skype date with daddy. Owen has Skyped with Oma and some of J's other family up north, and he says "hi, dad" pretty much every time he sees a phone, but we've never been away from daddy long enough to need to Skype. This kid broke my heart. At first, he patted daddy's face and babbled at the screen, but soon he was grabbing at the iPad, turning it around, and screaming - he couldn't figure out why daddy was inside and wouldn't come out - Owen was visibly upset and I finally had to hang up and console him. The poor kid had already been stopping to ask for "da-da-da, da da?" every few hours over the last three days (one day without daddy made sense to him, but after about 1/2 of the second day, he started to ask for him) and he really doesn't get why daddy hadn't shown up yet - especially since he had always seen both of us at his Momma's house before. So, Skype was a major mommy fail and I definitely made things worse not better.

The first few days of the trip were a little rough since O had six shots and a blood draw at his 12 month appt. right before we left for the desert. Fevers and a fussy baby followed for about 48 hours, followed by teething pain (molars suck by the way). He barely ate - he barely slept - he clung to me like a magnet - he convinced the entire family that they were completely forgotten and unloved (so untrue)! By Monday, we seemed to be back on track, two good naps, went down easy for both naps and bedtime - and a cheerful and more independent baby - who enjoyed some time with both his Momma and his Poppy (my parents). Additionally, after months of refusing to kiss me and turning his head and crying every time I tried to kiss him (enough to break a mommy's heart) - on Tuesday my 'little bit' flipped a switch and decided he likes to give mommy (and the rest of the family) kisses and will reward you with a big, sloppy, wet, open mouth kiss whenever you ask (and a few spontaneous ones of his own!!!).

I am still in awe at times and completely amazed that this really is my life, that Owen and J really are mine and this life that I wanted for so long - it's harder than I could have ever imagined, but it's also even better than I could have ever dreamed! God is so good! I don't know about the rest of you, but do you ever worry that you will wake up back in junior high (or any other prior point in your life) and realize that this whole life you've been living was only a dream! No?! Me neither, because I'm not crazy or anything...

To start our desert trip out, we had lots of family time, Owen bowled for the first time, and I loaded up on chocolate birthday/happy anniversary of having baby to me cake - and some of my favorite desert treats - greasy pizza, chinese, hamburgers, and of course lots and lots of Mexican food - there is not a speck of decent Mexican food to be found anywhere in this Midwestern state we now call home! Yummy, but not so good for the waistline!

Later in the week, we had one year old pictures, time with friends, and more time with my family - who I've really missed the last month since we moved. I've really missed home!

settling

Usually, we think of settling as a bad thing...settling for less than you wanted or deserved...settling for something you didn't want or expect...yet it also has a whole other side. Its funny the difference a preposition can make. Settling for versus settling in. I have very comforting images in my head of grains of sand all settling in to place and I feel like we are finally getting there. Settling into our life here...our new routine (complete with my Bible study :) - although I'm not really doing it the way I'm supposed to, and settling into our new home. I'm starting to say the word home and actually mean here rather than back in the desert. It hasn't been easy of necessarily natural, but it's happening slowly but surely!

my Proverbs 31 goals

1. To have desires for/of my husband and son - rather than expectations. I've actually been told this more than once the last week. The problem is not my husband - it is my expectations. It is my goal to have NO expectations of my husband for the next 3 years - someone told me this last week and I thought it was ridiculous, but now I get it - I can either be disappointed that he can't meet them or be thrilled and appreciative when he is able to help. This is a goal I will surely fail at more than once, but it is one I am committed to continue working toward. My husband is human and there is only so much one man can do when he works somewhere between 80-120 hours in a week. The Lord WILL give me the desires of my heart - but expectations that require more of J than he can give will only disappoint me and discourage him. (This is genuinely an issue of hours in J's day to help during this season - not his willingness - and it is unfair to continue to make him feel like failure because I set unfair expectations - but this is going to be HARD)
2. To love with a servant's heart. I need to have a serious heart check and serve my husband and son with joy - rather than bitterness and complaining. I made/am making a Home Management Binder and after next week when I am home - I want to have dinner made for my husband and have the chores done - so he can relax in a peaceful home - rather than both of us running circles trying to keep up and take care of a baby at the same time. J already has to miss so much - he needs to be able to enjoy the time he has at home I'm asking the Lord to help me to do this with a joyful heart - to find fulfillment and success in caring for my boys. I know that as I make this transition I may struggle - but my goal is to do this with a happy heart so as not to make my husband feel guilty or think or feel like he should be doing more.
3. To maintain consistent time with the Lord. I have never been good at making this a permanent priority in my life, but I know it will help immensely with my other goals.

becoming a better me

Mother's Day has come and gone - a whole day to revel in the joy that is my little family. Where they celebrated me and loved on me and spoiled me. I am amazed by the love my husband has for me and the lengths he goes to show it. My heart hurts as I see the anguish he puts himself through trying to find and do the perfect thing to show me just how much he cares.

My heart hurts at all the times that he has done just that only to be met with my disappointment rather than my appreciation. It's time to work on being a better me...a better mom....a better wife. I'm starting up the Proverbs 31 Woman bible study with Kayse and her Facebook group, and hopefully also with my mom and sisters. I'm going to make sure J has the time he needs to take care of himself (i.e. work out and actually get more than 3 or 4 hours of sleep). I'm going to take care of my own body - so Owen can have the example of healthy parents - who both enjoy food and exercise and are able to care for him and themselves.

They need me to stop saying it's not my job - to get off my booty and start being that woman that God called me to be - as far from it as I may be starting - I know, with God's help, I'll get there!

Love you J and O!

surgeon's wife

I still love you mommy!
watermark for previous blog

These are the days that it's hard. The days I count on J to pick Owen up, because I have a million things to do, but he can't because he's on call and someone else needs him more than we do. The days when I feel like a horrible person, because I resent people for being sick...for him away from us...as if there were a single person out there thinking, "tonight I'd really love to have some emergency surgery!" Yet, I'm still mad that I had to take an hour to pick O up and now I have to wake him up in his carseat and make him play by himself while I finish working - I'm a bad person, that is all.

notes for the next

This will be a series of notes to myself to help me remember what this point in time was like, what I'd like to do differently, what I'd like to do the same, and anything else I'm just not sure I'll remember but think I'll need to know next time!

• Know that every moment is precious and fleeting
• Record all the milestones no matter how small (you forget things far too fast)
• Take more pregnancy photos...that belly is amazing - no matter how self-conscious you are...you'll regret not having more to look back on
• Cuddling your newborn is never bad - before you know it he'll be a busy baby then boy who never slows down!
• Admit that you need your baby as much as he needs you - embrace it
• Be on the same page with hubby - be clear and explicit - don't just assume you think the same things
• TAKE MORE PICTURES!
• Stop worrying all the time that you'll do something wrong - you WILL do lots of somethings wrong - be ready for that to happen, to pick up the pieces, fix it, and move on. 
•  STOP wishing your life away - the next moments come soon enough - embrace these moments - this time - because it will never come back 
• Listen to your heart - God gave you wisdom - use it, listen to others with a critical ear and pray about it - don't just get disheartened and assume you're wrong because you aren't doing what it typical
• Smile more - love more - be more
• Spend less time with technology and more with your family
• The world will not implode if you let go and let J do some things so you can take a shower, a nap, work out, etc. 

 And one with a pic to finish this first one off right:

Remember this time

Remember how worth it all this little guy is and has been since before you could even hold him - since he was only yours and the you literally were his whole world - his home, his life, his everything - know that his life is all about slowly widening that gap between his being and yours and that's ok - it's right - it's how it should be - but no matter what else happens - you are his MOMMY and always will be - it all comes back to this. (It's amazing the parallels that come to mind between being his mommy and God being my Daddy - but that's another post entirely. It's just so amazing to me that if my wicked, damaged, earthly being can love so much as a mother, how much deeper and fuller the love God has for us, his children, must be! Thank you, Lord, that I get to be your daughter and that my son gets to be your son!)

current loves

 Hey Stinky Pete,

Here a few things you currently love and hate (just a little).

Bathtime! You are a little splashing fiend! Lately, you've been having most of your baths at Momma (my mom) and Poppy's (my dad) house while Mommy and Daddy are at work! But we still do baths at home on the weekends and boy do you love it! You used to hate getting out of the bath because you were cold, but you've toughened up and now really enjoy the whole thing! At home you have a boat toy that you can pour the water out of and you really think that one is a lot of fun!

You aren't too sure about your new "big boy" carseat! Soon enough you'll love it, but for now you don't like change much. You have a different one in Mommy and Daddy's car and you keep looking out the sides - I think you miss the security and coziness of your infant carrier - but baby boy you barely fit in that thing anymore - especially if you were in some of your bulkier cloth diapers - premium prefolds! You are getting soo big - over 20 pounds and about 26 inches long (I think)! Mommy could barely carrier that big heavy carseat with you in it!

 "Baby Pools" (i.e.  dog dishes!) - You are loving finding the dog dish and splashing around in that water! (and maybe eating a few kernels of dog food if mommy doesn't catch you quickly enough!) I can't wait to see how you do in the pool this summer! It's supposed to hit 100 (it's mommy's rule to never go in the pool before the first 100 degree day) this week and we already found you a great new swimsuit - so we just need some new cloth swim diapers and we'll be ready to go! Last summer we weren't allowed in the pool after you were born until it was too cold to swim - so mommy is really excited!

Eating everything and anything! You are a little chowhound! You love fruits, veggies, meat, and pretty much anything that we eat. You are fast too! If we aren't looking for just a second - you swipe food right off our plates and steal big gulps out of our straws! One of your favorite foods is cauliflower and you plow through puffs and baby "cheetos" like it was going out of style - a handful at a time! We have to spread your food out on the table to make you pick up less of it at a time! You're doing pretty well with you pincer grasp but don't think it's fast enough so quickly revert to grabbing as much as you can in your palms! You're still nursing when we are together and drinking about one 6 oz bottle of breastmilk while I'm at work (you'd probably have more, but pumping isn't going as well as it used to)! And you can probably guess why I'm calling you "stinky pete" - cauliflower is not so nice coming out the other end!

You've also started "talking" up a storm! You consistently say "dada" now and think that's everyone's name - although you are starting to use it more on the guys - Daddy, Poppy, and your Uncle J. You are babbling about everything and you use such fabulous intonation that sometimes we swear you're really talking to us! But obviously, I don't have any pictures of that one! I'll try to remember to take some video soon!

Baby boy - you are soo loved! I can't get over how much fuller my life is now that you are in it! I'm so thrilled to be your mommy and I can't wait to see what's coming next!

-Mommy

sibling love

This week I've had the chance to drive my brother to my mom's each morning as I drop Owen off. It's actually been kind of fun to have some company on one leg of the commute. And it's got me thinking...about baby number two and when we want to start working on that endeavor. I always said that "when I grew up" I would have four kids. Three boys and a girl...is the way it always looked in my head.

Yet, as my friend A, has decided she wants a second baby she never considered before...just so baby G will grow up with a sibling - I've started down a different path that I never considered before.

Maybe Owen is enough. Maybe people who have one baby aren't crazy or lazy or anything else. Maybe they have a point. Owen wouldn't have to compete for attention and affection and praise. There wouldn't be parent-teacher conferences and performances and games that we would have to miss in order to try to balance our time between little O and others to come. He could have his full parents - all of us, all of our time and energy. J's time is so lacking as it is - he's hardly home and he misses so much working all the time. Is it fair to try to split that time even further?

Selfishly, I want more babies. I already miss the newborn days and how teeny tiny he once was. I already feel like I've missed so much and I want to experience it all over again. I already miss being pregnant and feeling a life growing inside me. Selfishly for Owen, I want him to have that built in playmate for endless games of Hide-n-Seek and for tag in the backyard and for any other adventures that they can come up with.

watermark from my previous blog

But I also remember how hard it was being the oldest, with a younger brother and sister who needed more support behaviorally and academically than I did. I remember the pressure - real or imagined - to be perfect and never cause any problem, so my parents wouldn't have to spread themselves too thin. J has similar memories of the pressure of being the oldest, we were both the oldest child of our entire generation on both sides of our families. There is both the innate desire to be a help and a support - to be a big kid/grown up and to just be treated like all the other kids. For someone to make you take a step back - to not let you be so grown up all the time - and to be the kid you really are. I'm scared that I won't be able to help Owen find that balance - since I never found it myself as a child.

If I'm perfectly honest...I'm scared of a lot. Being a mommy is harder than I thought...especially working full time. I'm scared that I won't be enough for them. That all the things I thought I knew are wrong and I'm just going to mess him and any others up. I'm well-qualified for this role, better than most, I know more, I've had more experience, more practice...yet I'm just as scared as that mommy who's never held a baby before in her life. Other people's kids where just that...theirs. I could help and supplement and support, but when it all came down to it, if something went wrong it was the parent's responsiblity...not mine...as the teacher/nanny/babysitter/friend/aunt. It's a lot more pressure on this end. It's all on me. Sure, it's on J too, but he pretty much looks to me to take the lead on all things kids and parenting, which is nice not to be questioned, but is also a lot of pressure. If Owen ends up miserable, it's all on me - the mean momma!

I guess this is why I am not in charge of the universe, even though I act like it's my job! It's up to God when and if Owen gets brothers and sisters - not me. I hope we have more - I want more - I'm just not as sure of the timing as I used to be. Before I got pregnant I thought this would be the point when we started trying for number two. Yet, I look at my sweet boy, and think it couldn't possibly be fair to make him a big brother yet! He needs his chance to be the baby - to be my sunshine and our little man - later he can be the big boy and the big brother, but for now - I want to soak in the love of our little family of three.

Then, later, we can do the family of four...or more. Because as much as they drove me crazy (and still do) I wouldn't wish my brother and sister away for anything! There is something so unique about the love of a sibling - - the person who knows you better than probably anyone else - which is both good and bad - the person who you've hurt and whose hurt you, but nevertheless, the person who will always be there - has always been there - and will always love you.

8 months (6 mo. photos)

My Dear Baby Owen,

You are eight months old today. 8 whole months that you have been here. It seems like only a handful of days and it seems like you've been part of our family forever. You and your daddy are exactly what I always wanted. I thank God for you every second of every day. You mean more to me than you will ever understand (you might get it a little when you have your first baby - but I still think it's different for mommies and daddies). Being your mommy is the best thing that I've ever done and I hope that I'll be able to be the mom you need me to be - I know I won't always be your everything because you, boy, are crazy loved...by everyone you meet. My students all agree that you are the best baby that there is and they love seeing pictures and videos of you, but they always call you "baby Owen" and never just Owen - first name baby last name Owen - just like they think Mommy's first name is Mrs.

You are full of tricks. You've been officially crawling (hands and knees) for about 3 weeks now. You've been standing and trying to walk holding on to our fingers for months, but you just figured out how to pull up on things and stand up all by yourself (always holding on to something). You constantly jump in our laps and you desperately want to climb. I'm sure you'll be walking in no time. Then, just this week after all this motor development you started babbling up a storm. The thing you say most consistently is "dadadadada" so it's only a matter of time before we get an official "dada" as your first word, but you're really starting to use intonation with you babbling like you're really talking to us. Mommy is so excited to be hearing your voice!

You're a big boy - 95% for height at your 6 month checkup and I'm sure it will be about the same next month when we go for your next doctor's appointment. You weigh 20 pounds and 6 ounces. At Momma's house (my mom) you were a size three diaper, but at home you are in cloth diapers all the time - size two Thirsties with the rise all the way unsnapped and one size Bumkins with the rise undone as well - but you still have lots of room to grow in the waist. Long and lean - definitely not skinny - but all muscle, although those little thighs are growing. You are wearing some 9 months clothes and a few 12 months - guess Momma was right and I shouldn't have bought you a 12 month Halloween costume for next year - oops!

You eat like a champ. You usually have about 4 oz. of fruits/vegetables plus a serving of baby oatmeal at each meal plus you've started to eat some puffs for snacks in between. You're also still nursing in the morning before I go to work and 2-3 times in the evening and I pump twice/day at work for your bottles while I'm gone. With all that eating, we've had some zany poop adventures recently, but I'll save them for another post. You love our dogs and are really starting to learn to pet them softly instead of pulling on their fur. You think you're Aunts are beautiful and love to stare and you think Daddy and Uncle Johnny are hilarious! You never laugh at Mommy like you laugh at them. You're also starting to get a little possessive of me and never seem to want anyone else to hold you, but I miss you too after working all day/week and we need our snuggle time (I hope you stop dissing Daddy though - it really makes him sad).

I love you soo much, little boy, and I can't wait until the end of this school year when I will get to be with you full time. We have so many wonderful adventures ahead. I'm sorry I didn't start keeping track of things better before now, but I hope to do more of this. I feel like I've already forgotten so much - but even so, I have cherished every second I've spent with you so far and I can't wait to see what God has in store for our family!

Love you, Owen, more than you know!

Mommy

 ________________________________________________________________

My little boy is growing up way too fast! I can't even begin to express how amazing this is. It seems like just yesterday he was rolling around inside of me and now he's been an outside baby for almost 3/4 of a year. Here are a few of my favorite 6 mo. pics from our friend and amazing photographer Amy. She has taken pictures of Owen for us every three months and it's been amazing to see him grow through her lens. I love photography, but I have a long way to go before I can figure out how to make the image in my head actually translate to "pictures"  that other people can see too.

Click here to view these pictures larger

too fast

I cannot even begin to process and understand how quickly this has all happened. Like some others I know and/or read out there I spent years wishing my life away. I couldn't wait for this or that next step to start, so I could get on with it and "start my life already." I wish somewhere along the way I would have realized that this is my life. I didn't need to rush my way through high school and college and my grad degree. I didn't need to be in such a rush with past relationships - I ended up exactly where I needed to be and with exactly who I needed in God's timing - definitely not my own.

Now, I still struggle with wishing for the next step to just be here already my life away (if I'm really honest) - I still find myself wishing this school year would be over - wishing we would be through with making all these life-altering decisions - wishing that we would know where we were going to live and to have just moved there already and be settled (somewhere, anywhere, oh to be settled!). These have been years of change which has been very difficult for this controlling girl who loves her structure and routine. God has shown me over and over that I am not in control - yet it's still a struggle to let go even placing things in His hands, which I know are far more competent than my own.

At the same time, Owen makes me wish I could stop time in it's tracks. He makes me want to press pause/rewind even and do it all over and over again. I can't even begin to express how much I love this kid. I couldn't wait to be a mommy. I spent my whole life pushing through everything else - wanting to just get through it so that I could get RIGHT here, yet now that I'm here it's going too fast! Motherhood, I'm learning, is learning to swim in a sea of contradictions. I'm not letting him cry enough...or too much. I'm feeding him too much...or too little. I'm holding him too much...or too little. I just can't seem to find the right balance between what I thought I would do and what others think I should do and what my baby is telling me he wants/needs. It seems for every voice saying that something I am doing or thinking is right there are three others telling me how harmful it is. I suppose this is how it will always be - there is no perfect equation - no right answer - only everyone doing everything that they know to figure it out and do it right. I hate how as much as I worry about doing things wrong and the judgement of others, but the reason I worry so much about being judged it that I am so darn judgmental.  I read blogs about all kinds of parents and I judge that they are too attachment or not attachment enough. I struggle so deeply with my own perfectionism that I project it onto others - as if because I don't know that none of us are perfect. I've always thought of my expectations in levels. I expect perfection from myself and in an act of "generosity" I expect slightly less than perfection out of everyone else. I allow them mistakes more than myself, but I still feel like others should feel that same self-imposed pressure that I do to perform.

It took me a long time to realize that as much as I don't think of myself as a proud person - in fact, I'm quite self-conscious - that perfectionism is a manifestation of pride. Really, I think I am soo great that I can do what only God can do...I am so amazing that I'm the only creation capable of achieving perfection...I am so much better than others that I couldn't possibly hold them to the same standards as myself. No wonder, I don't have any friends. Who wants to be under all that pressure all the time? Who wants to be friends with someone who expects the best from herself but a sub-par performance from others? How genuine can my encouragement or praise feel when I was beating myself up for a similar (possibly better) performance when it was my turn? Lord, help me to have Your standards and to leave the judgement to You. Help me to strive to bring You glory and to do my best - whatever my best is. Help me to appreciate others who do the same. Help me to be a genuine encouragement and source of strength and support to others; rather than a set of impossibly high expectations and pressure to perform.

Well, this was all over the place, but as it's been said many times and ways if you want to be a writer...write. Someday, I want to be good at this. To say what I really mean and think and feel. To be understood without repeated repetition and adaptation that goes on until I, myself, am unsure of what I intended to say. So, I'm going to write. I want to be more outgoing and share myself with others so I will. I just can't promise perfection (or even to be good at it) - I've always quit things I didn't excel at immediately and I don't want that for Owen - so it's time to make the changes instead of just talking about them. It's time to do this instead of talking about it, or trying to be secretive and hope people I know won't find it. It's time to be real and honor God's creation in me instead of allowing fear (read: the devil) to scare me into hiding my light.

missing out/not enough

When does this guilt stop? When do I stop feeling like I could have should have done just about everything a little bit better than I did. I should be devoting more time and energy to my baby boy! He is growing and changing soo fast. I should be devoting more time and energy to my husband - the poor guy is amazing and works his butt off - he deserves some attention and appreciation. I should be devoting more time and energy to my class. They deserve a teacher who isn't struggling to stay awake in the afternoon counting the minutes until she get to go home and be with her baby. I should be devoting more time and attention to myself. I can't remember the last time I wasn't doing three things at once with a to-do list a mile long trailing behind me. Even when J takes on some of the burden, I still have an unending list of things only I can do (i.e. breastfeeding...lesson plans...organizing...cooking anything that doesn't have directions). I should be devoting more time and energy to myself. A girl should get to shower more than once every three days. A girl should get to put on makeup and actually do her hair more than twice a month. Errr! Why can't the day just be a few hours longer?!

the rest

Other roles that define me: sister, daughter, friend.

Each of these roles have shaped me. They have made me who I am today, yet I struggle to define them. To put these parts of myself into words. I can't. They are too real, too deep, too raw with emotion (both good and bad). They combine with so many other memories and experiences and so much life - they are the me that makes me who I have become as a teacher and mother and Christian and anything else that I have become or will become. These experiences parts of my psyche influence all other parts. My past as a friend influences my future as one. My fear, my hesitance, the questions, my love, my strength, my determination, my faith - me, myself, I. This is where the rubber meets the road. This is where...I just don't know, this is where my tongue gets tied. There are all of the best and worst parts of me. This is part I have to rise above and overcome, and the foundation that gave me the strength and determination to do just that and be the best version of myself that I could be.

That sounds bad, and ungrateful, all the things I don't want to be - the things I keep hidden. My family is and was amazing - but there are rivalries and jealousies, questions without answers. No neglect or abuse, no meanness, no real problems. Just me being a baby - me whining and complaining about attention and not getting things I was never brave enough to ask for - me being the sensitive girl who was told over and over to stop crying all the time until I learned to just keep things to myself. I've had many friends over the years and the quality of those friendships has varied, but friendship has always been a struggle for me, from changing schools in the second grade to the kids teasing me and not telling me things because I would tell my mom everything to the pain of moving away from family and towards friends who were never there for me the way family was to friendships that seemed deep and real and strong only to fade with the changes of life. (I *hope* now that I am at a more stable stage of life, I will be able to make some strong and genuine friendships with like-minded women who have the same sorts of priorities and interests). 

 Somehow, I still can't seem to grasp how it is that others form bonds and make friendships so easily. I try and fail to connect with people, to listen, to share just enough, but each little sprout of a friendship somehow withers with time or simply is stunted at some point short of blooming. I questioned this to my mother who replied that women have never seemed to like me for some reason. I rack my brain with each new budding friendship as to what it is that I'm doing wrong, am I trying too hard - not hard enough, sharing too much or too little, what would make this friendship grow. It seems each time a friendship begins to become something more -- some outside force gets in the way out-of-state moves come to mind in multiple instances. I suppose just like other areas of my life, it's time to give my friendships to God. It's time to let him work in me and make me the friend that others will need. It's time to have faith that he is working in others to be the friends that I need and it's time to have faith that He will orchestrate the timing of that lasting friendships and He will provide the opportunities for them to grow and develop to be a healthy, strong relationships - in which I don't have to question what I need to do to make things happen. Things will just be right and be of Him and will honor Him.

I need to remember how phenomenally blessed I am. I have an amazing family who loves me and would do anything and everything for me. A mom who watches my son all day everyday while I work - regardless of the stress, inconvenience, and other difficulties that this causes her. Whether or not our styles align, she loves and cares for my son in a way that no one else does. She does for him something that I can't. She teaches him different lessons. She loves him in a different way and trains him up in a different way. Some times this is hard for me and for her. Sometimes it's difficult for each of us to not see the other as wrong - as challenging the other's parenting choices, because that is what she is. Owen's third parent - her ideas and plans and care have a significant impact on his everyday life and development. There is no one right way. It has been hard navigating the change in our relationship. I've always questioned and done things on my own, tried my own way, not out of rebellion or desire to hurt her or even to say that I know better than her, simply because I can't do it any other way. I have to do and try and be, yet it's hurt my heart knowing that this isn't what she wanted from me - this isn't who she wants me to be. Like I've disappointed her somehow, like I've hurt her when that was the last thing I wanted. It scares me to put this struggle into words - like acknowledging this somehow makes it worse. That I'll upset her by letting her know that I'm upset for having upset her - but this is the cycle we've maintained. Each worried about hurting the other and hurting each other through/because of that worry. I've always been too analytical, too introspective, too sensitive - because of that I try to be strong and brave and independent - I try to act rather than get caught up inside of my self in the never ending cycle of thought and self-doubt. I try to do it on my own, to never let anyone see me sweat. To be easygoing, to not be a whiner, to be the easy kid - but that made her feel like a didn't need her or want her - and then it was the self-fulfilling prophecy. I had to be the strong, independent, easy kid - even when I didn't want to be or didn't know how to be.

I'm sorry that I did this, but I'm also not sorry. I'm sorry that we've both struggled with this more than we needed to. I'm sorry that I didn't always see the love and the support and all the other things my mom was always standing back waiting for me to ask for. I'm sorry that because some mean little girls told me to stop being so sensitive in 2nd grade and told me to stop telling my mom everything - that I withdrew into myself and harmed our relationship for the benefit of relationships that didn't last beyond elementary school. I'm sorry that it took me from the age of 7 to 25 for me to put into words that I don't want our relationship to be this way anymore - that I don't want this strain and pressure to be between us. To always question things. I'm sorry that I'm still not saying this to your face and I'm just putting it out here in the world where you may or may not ever see it. BUT whether or not you do, from today on I'm going to do my part to change things. I'm going to try not to be scared of disappointing you. I'm going to share myself with you. I'm going to be sure of myself whether or not you agree. I'm going to upset you if I have to, and I'm going to give you the chance to love me as I am instead of only showing what I deem worthy of love. I'm sure sometime you will disappoint me and I you - but it will be real and we can try to start from there. I won't be the perfect daughter - but I haven't been for all these years that I've been trying to be either.

This is the rest of me ... the me you don't see ... the me that I keep hidden .... this is where I am - today - this day - this year - this hour - and I want to remember. I want to make a change - I want to know that this was when I stopped living in fear and embraced the beauty of God's creation in me.

the mom

At Disneyland - June 2010 - stamp from previous blog

It's funny, but when you say mom I still think of mine, not myself - I'm not sure when that will change. Maybe when Owen starts to talk and calls me his mama on his own, instead of me just calling myself one, he'll be claiming me as his. I can't quite believe that it's really me. I'm really his mom. I cannot even beginning to articulate just how blessed that I am. I still have days that I have to go to his crib while he's sleeping and touch him to confirm that all of this is real - he's really mine and this isn't some amazing (yet cruel) dream.

I wish I would have been better about writing all of this out at the time to capture the details and emotion that I feel get lost writing this now, but I know if I don't write it now - I'll only lose more of that over time. Here it is:

Getting Owen (known in vitro as "Nacho") here was quite the endeavor and I felt a little like my little baby and his birth experience were being attacked from all sides. I originally wanted a home birth with a midwife (like my mom), but based on how everything went down, I'm glad J vetoed that early on.

Overall my pregnancy went pretty well, complicated only by a mild case of gestational diabetes (diet controlled), but I probably should have switched doctors when I was diagnosed and my doctor told me I was turning my baby into foie gras, but I didn't. Instead just felt guilty that my body was sabotaging my baby and read about all the risks for him both during my pregnancy and his life because I "did" this to him. I spent the rest of my pregnancy on very structured diet and watched my blood sugar levels religiously, felt just a little a lot jealous of the mommies out there with "regular" pregnancies, who didn't have to worry like I did. I'm sure it was hard on J too with his 'Dr.' mind reeling with all the things he knows can go wrong with babies - let's face it he was pretty much a nervous wreck from the day we saw those two pink lines to the day he held Owen and could confirm for himself that all was well, but I digress.

The last few weeks of my pregnancy (in July in the desert) were pretty miserable and my feet and hands started to swell a lot and I had to put them up every night, but I attributed it to the heat and went along my merry little way. I headed to the doctor twice a week for non-stress tests and blood pressure checks - which no one ever commented on one way or another. Due to the GD and O measuring big, my doctor didn't want me to go all the way to or past my due date, so he scheduled me to be induced at 39 weeks and 2 days (conveniently the day he returned from a vacation he failed to mention until I was about 37 weeks pregnant. He checked at my 38 week appt. (Thursday, July 28) and I was dilated 3 cm but he assured me that I wouldn't go in labor while he was gone and that as a first time mom, this would take a while...

J was on call that weekend and it was a pretty busy one with him gone a lot, but we thought we had another week before things got started and possibly another day after that before Nacho/Owen would make his appearance - just in case he had some people ready to cover him over the last month of my pregnancy. Sunday (July 31), I was uncomfortable most of the day and was having some irregular contractions that I just thought were braxton hicks, and they were not nearly as bad as as the every growing feeling that I had to go to the bathroom, yet every time I tried I couldn't go (surprise - that was Owen trying to push his way out). Sunday at 3am, I hoisted myself out of bed for one of my usual mid-night pee breaks and felt that tell-tale gush - Oh no, did I pee myself..or is this it? I called J at work and went to pee - not yet sure of what was beginning. I called my OB's office hoping I was both right and wrong - the panic of not being ready, the readiness to hold my baby in my arms, and all the other conflicting thoughts and feelings that were rushing through my mind. Plus the fear of the embarrassment I would be in for if I called the doctor, my family, and drug everyone out of bed in the middle of the night only to find that my water hadn't broken and it was all a false alarm.

The on-call doctor called me back and I explained what was going on. She told me to head in to the hospital to get checked out. I called up my mom and about half an hour later she picked me up and we headed in to the hospital - telling J to stay at work until we were more sure of things. On the way to the hospital my contractions began to get much closer together and much more intense. I remember telling my mom that if this wasn't the real thing, then I didn't know if I could do it when it really was (thankfully it was). Once I got to the hospital, I walked into triage and swoosh there went the rest of my waters all over the floor - the nurses sprang into action cleaning up, getting me things to change into, and getting me situated in a triage bed. I let them know that I had tested Group B Strep positive and that I would need antibiotics once things got started - the nurse took note and proceeded with all of her checks.

This is where things took a turn. Things changed from what I planned - to reality - funny how "plans" work out for us. This is also where it got scary and stressful and where my memory gets blotchy. The nurse took my blood pressure and exclaimed, "wow, let's try that again." Which she did, and it was still crazy high, she began asking me questions about my blood pressure throughout my pregnancy, which I thought was normal, and calling my doctor's office (who said I had one high reading and the others were all normal). They decided to put me on magnesium and pitocin (in addition to my antibiotics and fluids) to prevent seizures and all sorts of horrible things, and to speed things up and get this baby out faster. By this point, we had called J and he was on his way from his hospital to "mine" and he was scared, because he had a much better idea of what all the numbers they kept telling me meant. My labor had already been progressing quickly, but once I was on the pitocin and the magnesium - things got much worse. Contractions were painful excruciating, and I started to feel sick from it all. I threw up twice before I consented to the Zofran being offered. This was already so far from the laid-back no interventions home birth I had wanted.

Things continued to progress quickly - with the nurse telling me to focus on my baby through the contractions - but that was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to focus outside of myself, I found myself staring with intent-laser-beam eyes at the paper towel dispenser across the room, or the frame on the wall, anything but what was going on inside my body. I felt an intense desire to push, but the nurse said I couldn't yet (I think now that she was really stalling for the Dr.) and it was all I could do to hold him in for the last half hour or so. The plan had been for it to be just J and me in the room when the time came, but in the end I kicked out my dad, but I needed my mom in a way that I still can't explain. As I focused on not ripping apart at the seams, I was vaguely aware that I hadn't seen a doctor and that they were all talking back and forth about which resident was supposed to be here and how he was in a c-section. They eventually called another resident in and just as I was about to start my first push the on-call doctor from my OB's office (who I'd met once) came in.

Owen's first picture - again the watermark is from my
 previous blog

The last part is even blurrier than all the rest. He crowned rather quickly, then I remember pushing with all my might and feeling like everyone was mad at me and that I wasn't doing a good enough job. J and my mom were holding my legs and the OB kicked my mom off to the side and had a nurse take over. Each contraction, the OB would tell me to to push to the count of ten and not to stop and she kept telling me not to yell and to push harder. I kept saying in my head, "hey you b*, I'm pushing as hard as I can here...it's not like I'm trying to yell...it's just coming out because I'm pushing so hard!" Finally after what I'm told was 15 minutes,out came Owen's head, and I heard the resident say "nuchal cord...reduced." That was the first indication that I had that anything was any different than normal and maybe they weren't just being mean to me. While I had been in labor the nurse had told me that once he was born they would pass him up to me and then take him over to the table in the room to do the tests/etc. that they needed to do with him, but that wasn't what they did. As soon as he was born and the cord was cut, he was off to that little table. I heard them call an apgar of 6, and a few minutes later an 8, as I birthed the placenta and sewed up some tearing.

The watermark is from my previous blog

Eventually, after what felt like forever, but was really only a few minutes they brought my baby to me. Apparently, (as I was told about a month later by J - yea, everyone just assumed I knew what was going on and never told me) during the last part of my labor, Owen was in distress and they needed to get him out urgently (hmm no one thought it might be important to explain this to me - that it might have helped me...evidently they thought it would just upset me and make things worse...still a little bitter about that). The resident finished stitching me up and we hung out in the room until we were moved to another wing to our recovery room - where we ended up staying for the next three days as they hoped my blood pressure would stabalize and eventually put me on medication to be released. J's first "vacation" in almost a year and he spent it in another hospital - eating hospital food and sleeping on a cot - but all for the best reason. I was miserable for those three days, wishing desperately for them to let me out, and to start our lives together as a family - little did I know how unbelievably fast "our lives" would go - how quickly my maternity leave would end and how soon I'd feel like I was missing out on his life. I hope to never wish our time away again. I hope to savor each moment in time because he will never be that newborn again, sure, he'll have siblings, but it will never be my Owen and me that way again.

 

Our First Family Photo - - again the watermark is from my
previous blog

It saddens me how much I've already forgotten and how many details have been forever lost in the furthest reaches of my memory. I need to write, I need to document, I need to remember this time. These fleeting moments - my squishy newborn boy, with his poor squashed face has grown and changed so fast - to a giant long (95th percentile) little guy who seems less like a baby every day. I want need to remember this time better than I remember the times that have past.

the wife

The wife...his wife...his partner...his best friend. I dreamed for the time that I would be able to say those words - that I would be a wife. I was always in a hurry to grow up and since my grandma and mom had both been married and had babies/were pregnant by the time they were 21 - I was behind, way behind. So, I did something not many people know about - I signed up for eHarmony. Now almost 4 years later, it's a little more common and a little less stigmatized to be on a dating website - but I was ashamed and I was scared that people would look down on me and think I was lame or desperate. In fact, I think I thought those things a little about myself. I had boyfriends and I dated, but I couldn't seem to find the right guy or the right relationship (didn't occur to me that I wasn't the right girl yet) - so I decided to look for someone/something more serious online. I hoped to find someone smart, someone with my values and beliefs, and I wanted to find MY husband - the man God made especially for me and I just wasn't finding him on my own.

I remember praying in 2007: "God, I'm sick of this heartache - and these wrong relationships. Lord, give me my husband now, even if I'm not ready for him yet. Let me meet him now!" And, you know what, He did early in 2008. He let me meet him - and guess what - I wasn't ready. We "met" and talked and got along really well, I knew from his pictures that he wasn't quite my type (I was young and immature and just a little shallow) but he was nice and fun to talk to and everything about him was right - and I told myself that if I was smart I'd be with him, but like I already said I wasn't ready, and I hurt him. I will forever be sorry for that - and I know that was a very clear lesson to me that I want His will, not mine in my life. I told him I wanted to be friends (which he didn't want) and moved on with my life and he with his. He continued on with opportunities he might not have had if we'd been dating and I bumbled along dating the wrong guys, growing up, and getting ready for what God had for me. About a year later, I thought of J and looked him up online and emailed him, only to hear that he didn't want to talk to me - understandable. So, back to bumbling along. I was dating a man who wasn't a Christian and trying to justify that in my head (umm yea, doesn't work) when I prayed and gave my life over to God for him to control - instead of insisting on doing it myself - and my boyfriend broke up with me less than a week later (while I was moving - literally phone call while carrying boxes into my house).

I started trying to think of what I could do to move on and start the next relationship, but separately from my control - God was working. About a month later, I got an email from J. He apologized for not wanting to talk to me before and wanted to catch up. We emailed and exchanged phone numbers and before long we met for dinner in early December. The next day, I made/helped him cut his hair and I went to his work Christmas party where everyone told him I was a keeper. After that, I saw him every day, it was right, it fit, it worked, and I/we were ready! We were talking/joking about marriage in about a week and on January 1st, 2010, he proposed, ring and all. Talk about a whirlwind romance. We I planned our beautiful, out of state wedding fast and we were married on June 12, 2010.

Since then, we've continued to grow and some times have been harder than others (when your husband works 120hrs in one week it's a little rough on the relationship), but I'm still thrilled to call myself his wife and him my husband. I love you, J!

the teacher

 You know how in Kindergarten we all said, "when I grow up, I want to be a..." - well I wasn't too sure and went back and forth between a "baby nurse" and a teacher, but by the end of first grade I was sure - I was born to be a teacher. Some of my earliest memories of getting in trouble at school were for turning around to help the boy behind me with his work and I absolutely adored school.

Many family members tried to talk me out of becoming a teacher because I was "too smart" and the pay was bad, but I never changed my mind. As I grew, I taught Sunday School and babysat and did everything I could to work with children. I also worked while I was in college doing habilitation and respite for children with autism and other developmental disabilities and learned even more about the joy of helping a child to learn and grow. There is magic in seeing the light turn on and a child's world change and I am so blessed to be a part of that.

I went to UofA on a full scholarship and studied Elementary Education, I graduated in 3 1/2 years and was thrilled to join the workforce. I took over from a maternity leave where the teacher had decided not to return (which I definitely understand now...I miss my baby boy!) and off I went. I was thrilled and couldn't believe they were really going to let me do this! My dream became my reality faster than I even thought it would...but reality is never quite like the dream. That year was hard brutal, I was so ill-prepared for the reality of working in a struggling urban school district. I had little-to-no support (didn't know who to ask) and everyone assumed since it was mid-year that I already knew the things that they told all the newbies at the beginning of the year. I received some training, but that year I could barely tread water as the third teacher to a class of 5 year-olds who had learned almost nothing in the first half of the year and could barely sit still!

I'd like to say after that the job got easy, but in a Title 1 (high poverty) urban school district, it never gets easy. Procedures and expectations change faster than you can master and implement them, and I was often told that all the things I learned earning my bachelors (and later my master's) degree were wrong and "didn't apply" to this population. Many things have Practically everything has changed each year that I have been teaching since January of 2008 and I'm sure it will continue to do so each year into the future. Yet, in spite of the difficulties, I'm so glad that this is where God placed me. I have been able to be a light and sense of stability in the lives of many children who don't know God's love or who don't know what it is to have a stable adult in their lives or who don't even have the stability of knowing when their next meal will be. I know that this isn't every student I've had in my classes - many others have 2 loving/stable/Christian parents and many are probably better off financially than I am, but even if it's only for one kiddo - then it's all been worth it.

Last year, I had a challenging group of students (let's be honest - it was crazy and more than once I was kicked/hit/scratched/etc. all while pregnant) and I was at my wit's end almost daily, but with God's help I made it through and I have to believe that I made a positive difference for those kiddos in at least some way (although I was sure at times that it was all my fault and I was a horrible teacher). I learned a lot from that class about pride and doing it all myself. Prior to that I was so sure of myself and my skills and my classroom management and I had stopped giving the glory to God. I had forgotten that everything I know and am and do is thanks to Him.

Thankfully, this year my class is amazing - we had a few hiccups (I was on maternity leave from the first day of school until October) but God is good and He has blessed me with great kiddos - great parents - and a chance to love teaching again (and feel a little less like a failure as a teacher). I'm glad I'm here this year to experience that change. But (yes the teacher started a sentence with "but") with my new role as a mommy, I'm having a harder time with focusing as much time and as much of my identity as it takes to be a "good" teacher. It's hard to turn off mommy and be teacher, and I'm really struggling with the balance and feeling like I'm not "doing" enough in either role. I will just have to have faith that this is where I am supposed to be this year - as we always planned that I would be at home once we had our first baby, but God's plan was different - and I'd rather be confused following God than "know" where I'm going on my own. This will probably (?) be my last year teaching (at least for a while) and I'm not sure yet what God has for me as we move next year - should I try to teach while I'm there, can we afford for me to be a stay-at-home mom(?), or should I be looking at something in between tutoring or daycare/preschool where I could bring Owen with me? All I know is whatever He has for me - I will be successful as long as I acknowledge Him and rely on His guidance to do His will in my work, rather than relying on myself and my own strength weakness. No matter what, a "teacher" will always be part of who I am and my calling - in whatever form that takes.

the Christian

"I am a C-H....I am a C-H....I am a C-H-R-I-S-T-I-A-N."

I was raised in a very Christian home, where I was saved by 2, praying for healing with immediate results, and filled with the Holy Spirit by about 8. We listened to nothing by Country and Christian music and we (mom, dad, myself, younger brother, and younger sister - and generally my maternal grandma) went to church Sunday morning and night and Wednesday nights. I went to Christian school K-12, and I was a GOOD kid. Oft called a goody-goody and left out of parties and outings because I wasn't "cool" or I was going to tell my mom about the things they were doing. 2nd-6th grade my school/our church/and my mom's work were all one place. We spent more time there than we did at home. During that time, my parents also led the single's group so the time between services on Sunday was spent socializing with their group, as were many Saturdays.

Somewhere in there - it kind of turned into work and we got burned out...and we drifted. All of us...as a family. We didn't turn, we didn't rebel, but we lost our spark and our fire and we drifted. I can't pinpoint when it happened or why, but my "very Christian" family became a family who also happened to be Christians. We still went to church every week, but only Sunday morning and we were often late. We bounced from church to church for a period of about five years - never completely settling, never completely plugging in. It was a period of transition in my family - that to be honest I'm not sure is over. We went from praying before every meal to praying on holidays and occasional other meals. This spiritual valley affected my siblings and I differently based on the different points that we each were in our lives (and I won't speak for how they felt or reacted - over even if they felt the shift as I did).

For me - this was somewhere around my junior year of high school and it was hard. I didn't fit or have friends at church, and I began to stray into the wrong friendships and relationships. These led me down a less that righteous path for about 5 years, as I lived like I was "of the world" rather than just in it. I had to come to terms with the idea that being "good" was for my own good and it was for God/my Abba, not just for my parents here. I had to learn that following God was bigger than following the rules (and much bigger than just not getting caught not following them). I learned to make my faith my own - in an adult way.

Now it's my turn to be the mom - and to raise up a new generation of children to love and follow the Lord. I want my children to know Jesus like I do (or even more than I do), I want him to be real and personal to them,  I want them to have hearts after His, I want them to be lights to the world and salt on Earth, I want them to stand for what they know is right even in the face of adversity (because lets be honest - the world today isn't the friendliest place to be a "Bible-thumping, conservative, Jesus Freak." I want them to be all of that and more - I want them to exceed my wildest dreams, wishes, and imagination. I want them to be all that God called them and created them to be without limiting them to only what I can dream - because compared to God - I'm really not all that creative! :) This means that I need to do what I can to raise them with the same values that I was taught - protect them from things that could harm their faith - and make sure that I show them my faith and teach them to love God. Yet I also need to make sure I don't make God - or anything else I want them to love - a burden or an obligation.

Most of all I want my kids to know and show love to God and others...in all they do.

who I am/who am I? ...

...and why should anybody care, if I don't even know myself?

The last five years have been ones of rapid change (started teaching, master's degree, best friend moved away, married, baby) - mostly for the better, but it leaves me wondering "who am I?' - I'm not who I was, but I'm not yet the Christian/woman/wife/mother that I want to be. Hopefully, by doing this I and those who care to come along for the ride will be able to have greater insight into that journey.

 I have spent so many of years of my life being who I thought other people wanted me to be. To be the BEST teacher, girlfriend/wife, sister, daughter, mom, friend, and whatever else. Desperately trying to fit in, meet "expectations," and be good enough be perfect. Any guess how that's working? It's hard not to feel like a failure when your human and your goal is perfection - so it's time to try something a little more realistic. It's hard questioning whether people really know and love me or the image I worked so hard to build of myself. I know that God made me in his image and I have every reason to step out and embrace being who he made me to be - but up until now, I've been a coward. I've been a different person with different people, I've molded my thoughts and actions to mirror those around me rather than living by my (and God's) principles. I've been scared to be too Christian/not Christian enough, too silly/too serious, too private/too open, and so on. Always concerned that I was too much and not enough at the same time. I desperately want Owen to feel self-assured and comfortable being himself - so I better start trying now so that by the time he can remember me, I'll be a new better mommy! I'm going to do a series of posts to introduce myself through roles that most define who I am currently and my take on the world.

After that I hope to post on the ever-changing Owen, on a memories I'd like to share with him, on life and counting my blessings, and who knows what else!  I'm hoping I can do this regularly enough to help give all our far off friends and family (which will be many more come July) a window into our lives and help us to all keep up with each other - since I'm horrible at remembering to call/email regularly.

And Nacho Makes 3! An introduction to mommy guilt

Nacho has just started sleeping through the night - like for real STTN - he fell asleep at 11 and woke up at 10 - and instead of rejoicing like any sane momma would - I'm sad. I'm sad that I am missing that 5am feed we used to have before I packed him up to take him to my mom's and go to work (yes- I actually take him out of his crib, put him in the carseat, and travel across town and he doesn't get up - usually). I'm sad that now that I've been back at work a month I see him so little when he's actually awake and happy. Some days I only get one or two feedings and a cranky baby who's overtired from bad napping at Gma's all day. I told myself that "when we had kids, I'd stay at home" and that I'd do things right, but we just can't afford it. We are beyond blessed to have my mom to care for him, but it just doesn't feel right being back at work. I still love my job and my students, but there's a whole in my heart that only Nacho can fill. At work, I feel like a bad teacher who isn't focused or doing the best that I can for the kids - and at home, I feel like a bad mommy who isn't focused or doing the best that I can for MY kid. I blink and Nacho is another week or another month older. It seems like just yesterday we were leaving the hospital and he's really already 15 weeks old, only a few more weeks until he starts solids (which I plan to make myself - courtesy of my lovely Baby Brezza, which I'm so excited to try out!). 

It's time to start a quest - I've been lost in the mire of work and baby and life and I'm missing out on all of it. I think I'm starting to get work under control 5 weeks back from maternity leave, but it's time to get baby, life, and husband back on track! Goal 1: Make a real home-cooked dinner at least 3 times a week and sit down at the table and eat like a real family (NO TV). Goal 2: Exercise! Go on family walks at least 3 times a week and use the Wii Fit at least 3 times a week as well (We'll work on actually going to the gym later). Goal 3: Actually spend some quality time with the hubby (even just talking and focusing on each-other during our walks or dinner!) Goal 4: Take more pictures and keep better track of what's going on with Nacho! Nacho is growing soo fast and everything is always changing, I need to document that better for all of us! Goal 5: Mommy time - there never seems to be enough time in the day/week/month - but this needs to be done, J deserves a showered, made up, un-cranky wife and Nacho doesn't care, but when he does I want to be a mommy he's proud of. 

Day 1 - here we go!