6.11.2014

an open letter to my husband on father's day

To the man I love,

Our world doesn't give men like you very much credit. We live in a world of articles and blogs celebrating mothers, mothers as nurturers, mothers as birthers, swaddlers, up all nighters. Mothers who stay home, mothers who work, mothers who run, mothers who cook, mothers who... mother.  

We glorify mothers, praise mothers, tell mothers they can have it all, that it's ok if they can't do it all.  We are sure to remind them that they are enough just as they are.

We often fail to recognize the amazing partners helping us mothers not completely fall apart as we work, we run, we cook, we seek to live a life that feels like we do indeed "have it all."  

We celebrate (debate) mothers' choices for feeding.

I've never thanked you for those times you knew just what to say and just how to help during those early days of feeding, when the nights were long, and my body felt like it couldn't give any more.

We constantly remind mothers of the importance of self-care.

I never remind you, the man who comes home after 8+ hours of work, immediately falls to his knees to play blocks or trains with our little boy, wrestles him into the bathtub, then rounds out the evening elbow deep in a sink full of food splattered dishes, to remember to take care of yourself.

We write helpful mommy blogs with tips such as "how to clean your home in less than 30 minutes a day" (as though that's my biggest daily worry).

I take for granted the (many) days the laundry gets done, the garbage gets emptied, the dishwasher gets loaded (and run), the checks get written, the toys get put back in their organized places.

And yet...

Without you:

Colin would miss out on pony rides to his bedroom,

a stalwart set of shoulders giving him the best view at the zoo,

slam dunks on the basketball goal,

foot races down the hallway.

Without you:

I wouldn't be able to mother 

without completely falling apart.

Thank you for fathering alongside me, being a true partner in this journey of love, committing to Colin and me each and every day.

Thank you for being the father that I hope Colin someday gets to be.

Thank you.

Just.  Thank you.

Love always.














4.17.2014

right now

right now

I still watch my kid like a hawk when we go to the playground (secretly longing and yet already lamenting the day he can do it with me more on the sidelines)

right now

My workouts are 
chasing my toddler
dancing in the living room
holding his hands as he tentatively crosses the wobbly bridge (saving up those precious hours after bed time for a hot shower and a spot on the couch)

right now

My bedtime sometimes starts curled up next to his crib as I listen to his deep, slow breaths (his lullabies lulling me, to do lists dancing around my tired brain, longing to get up and leave, saddened knowing someday he won't need this anymore)

right now 

my own time feels like no time
to do lists feel like a joke
dust feels like a protective coating that should not be tampered with

right now

is a season
a precious, remarkable, humbling
season


12.30.2013

a time to celebrate



As I enter my birthday month and the beginning of the new year, I am reflecting on all the goodness in my life. All the sadness. All the uglyness. All the awesomeness. All the laughter. All the tears. All the "stuff" that mixes together to make this one brutiful life.

In this reflection, I have decided I have plenty of stuff. I want to celebrate in a different way this year. To my friends and family, I ask that you consider making a donation to one of the following organizations to help me celebrate my 33rd year!

The Intercollegiate YMCA of Indianapolis

I love how this organization seeks to create and empower cause driven leaders through a campus presence. Students at each of the Indy campus YMCAs are doing amazing things from implementing an after school program for children in a local section 8 housing community to setting up a homework tutoring club at a local library to traveling domestically and abroad on service-based trips to meet community need during Fall and Spring breaks.  I loved my opportunities to serve in college, and those opportunities led me to choose a career devoted to helping and service as well as instilled in me a desire to continue to serve in my community upon graduation.

Learn more about the mission and programs of the Intercollegiate YMCA: http://www.indymca.org/centers/intercollegiate/center-news/

Support the Intercollegiate YMCA: https://indymca.thankyou4caring.org/annualcampaign.  **Be sure to choose the Intercollegiate YMCA as the center where you want your funds designated.

Girls on the Run of Hamilton County

I wrote about this organization when I first started this blog.  Though I am not involved at the same level I was three years ago, I still believe in the mission of empowering girls to walk/run/move forward and OUT of the "girl box" and lead healthy, joyful, confident lives. I love that running is integrated into the curriculum because running has become such a source of confidence for me over the past ten years.  I think this program is powerful and fun, and I think Molly Barker totally rocks.

Learn more about the mission and programs of Girls on the Run of Hamilton County: http://gotrhamiltoncounty.org/.

Support Girls on the Run of Hamilton County: http://gotrhamiltoncounty.org/donate/

Cheers to an amazing year, my friends!







12.04.2013

why am i so favored? reflections on waiting, wondering, and hoping this advent season


Below is a talk I shared at my church last advent season (December 2012)

Luke 1: 26-56 

Luke 2:17-20

Why am I so favored?

Elizabeth asks this question when Mary comes to her to share her news from the angel Gabriel. “Why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”

As a mother, I ask myself this question every day: Why am I so favored? I have always wanted to be a mother. As a little girl, dolls were my toys of choice- I carried “my baby” with me everywhere from the time I could walk. I rocked my babies and fed my babies and changed my babies. I looked forward to nothing more than becoming a mom and having a baby of my own someday. As soon as I was old enough I started babysitting. Pretty soon, I was padding my teenage piggy bank with money from regular babysitting jobs. I loved caring for children…even when Legos were tossed, feet were stomped, arms were crossed, and that nauseating purple dinosaur bleated a constant chorus in the background.

When I reached adulthood, met my love, and got married, becoming a mother became more of a reality. A couple of married years passed, and we decided to expand our family. And we planned. I read books… and blogs (probably too many blogs)…and took vitamins…and visited the doctor…and prayed. And I wondered…will I be so favored? Our journey into parenthood began on a Tuesday morning when two pink lines literally changed our lives forever. We were going to have a baby. I was going to become a mother.

Mary didn’t have two pink lines to tell her she was going to have a baby. She and Joseph didn’t wait anxiously for 3 full minutes to know what the future held. She didn’t call Elizabeth the morning she woke up feeling just a little bit sick, wondering, “could it be?” No…Mary’s life changed forever when an angel came to her and told her she would soon carry a baby boy who would grow up to become the Savior of our world. She had found favor with God, and He entrusted her to carry and give birth to “the Son of the Most High,” the Lord whose “kingdom will never end.” Why was she so favored?

Last Christmas I was carrying a baby boy. I didn’t know he was a boy, but I felt the kicks and turns and flutters of a baby growing inside me, and I felt like being pregnant at such a holy time was so special. I knew he wasn’t the savior of our world, but I knew he was someone special and would bring blessings to not only Chris and me but to so many around us. I could never have imagined or planned for the bouncing, joyful, wondrous gift that Colin is to us. Born just 3 days shy of Easter (due to be born on Good Friday), he is, in many ways, our own little savior- a wonderful reminder of the gift of new life, innocence, and love.

I wonder how Mary felt carrying Jesus in her belly. Did she have any idea of the gift she was bearing to the world? Did she worry? Was she afraid? Did she wonder how she was going to do it- mother our Lord and Savior? Did she have her doubts? Did she wonder about the future? Or was that too much for her to bear? Did she question whether or not this was truly a blessing? I don’t know Mary’s thoughts throughout her pregnancy, but I do know that upon reflecting on the news, she rejoiced: “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has been mindful of the humble state of his servant…holy is his name.”

The morning I learned of our news, I didn’t immediately rejoice. I was terrified. No book or blog had prepared me for that moment when I knew I would be bringing a child into this world- a child Chris and I would be responsible for raising to become an upstanding human being. At least Mary knew she was getting a pretty good kid- he was the savior after all. I, quite frankly, had no idea. Was I ready for this? No, I wasn’t ready. We weren’t ready. That is why 9 months separated us from the 2 pink lines and the incredible moment when the doctor lifted up our son and said “It’s a boy!” Like Mary, despite my initial fear, I did feel blessed to have been called to such a magnificent task as parenting. I may not have carried a Savior but I see parenting as magnificent gift and opportunity. Chris emailed me a poem from an on-line devotional one day called the Art of Parenting. The words of this poem reassured me that as parents, we were going to be ok. It even prompted me to write a letter to our unborn child. 

A Letter to Colin (written before he was born)

Parenting as Art by: Gordon Atkinson

you do your best you do what seems right in your gut

often maybe even mostly you dont know why you do what you do

and somehow in the delightful mix of your sin and your sorrow and your joy the two of you bringing your best and 

your worst to this

a unique and lovely human forms and comes into being

carrying your sins and your virtues often magnified and being broken and human and wonderful like you

Dear Little One,

Daddy sent me this yesterday while I spent another day on bed rest with you. I love the words of this poem. And I have been thinking a lot lately not just about parenting as an art but about parenting as a calling. Your dad and I are broken and so very human…and together in our love for one another, we chose to bring another broken, human, and yet so wonderful being into this world. We are not perfect. You are not perfect. But you were made perfectly. And we were made perfectly. God made us perfectly. Our very humanness, though, takes the perfectly created creations that we are and renders us imperfect beings.

What I like about this poem is that it reminds me that our best and our worst are coming together to make something so wonderful. You are already so wonderful. A mixture of what makes us as your parents both wonderful and not so wonderful at the same time. The mix of sin, sorrow and joy is described as a “delightful mix.” It takes all of that to create an amazing life together. It isn’t all perfect. We make our mistakes. There are traits we wish we didn’t posses, actions we wish we had never taken, words we wish we had never spoken. All of these things are part of the delightful mix that is our life.

Parenting is a calling because it pushes us outside of our limits, our self-created boxes and walls, and asks us to give of ourselves in a way that is bigger and heavier and more grace-filled than anything else we could give our lives to. Before we got pregnant with you, I knew that being a mother was a calling for me…or at least I wanted it to be my calling. I knew it was a calling because while it delighted me in my innermost being, it also terrified me to the core. I knew it was not something I could do, or that we could do, without God’s help and blessing. The only way two imperfect people can take on the monumental task of parenting is to rely on God’s infinite wisdom.

Our commitment to you, little one, is to continue to follow this calling as we would with any other. This is not a task we take lightly. We cannot promise we will be perfect in this endeavor. But we will commit to calling on God’s support and wisdom…which will itself come in so many forms through friends and family and experiences…to raise you in the best possible home with a palpable love that you will never have to question. 

Love, Momma

This letter was one way I prepared for our son’s birth- it was an opportunity for me to reflect on who I would be as a mother…who we would be as parents. I don’t know how Mary prepared for her son’s arrival. I don’t know if she talked Joseph’s ear off or spent time alone thinking about what the future would hold. I do imagine that she was a reflective individual. The Bible tells us that after Jesus’ birth, the shepherds spread the word of his coming and all “who heard it were amazed.” But Mary responded by “treasur[ing] up all these things and ponder[ing] them in her heart.”

As a working mother I have a hard time just “pondering” and treasuring up this special time- I forget to just breathe and be ok sitting amidst the unvaccumed carpets and the dust settling in the corners of my home. I want to constantly move and go and clean and organize. But I want to be more like Mary. And, I see Advent as the perfect time to do this. Advent is the time for us to remember that each of us here are favored. We are all favored- because we are loved beyond any human capacity by our God.

During this Advent season, let us reflect on this favor we have received despite our sinful natures. Let us open our hearts as Mary did during this time of preparation and waiting. In the midst of our own self-doubt; the mistakes we inevitably make as parents, caregivers, children, and friends; the chaos of our ambitious lives- Let us slow down and remember that none of us deserves the favor that has been afforded us through the gift of Jesus Christ and yet it has been gifted to each of us. Let us open our hearts to this favor and rejoice as Mary did- for the Mighty One has done great things for us… and Holy is his name.

8.30.2013

are we doing it right?

So, I have been thinking a lot lately about the life we are providing for Colin, the kind of parents we are, the kind of home in which we are raising him. It's a good life, an awesome life, an incredibly loving, warm, and nurturing life.  And yet, I just put down the first half of the book The Science of Parenting, and my goodness, I wonder if it's been warm and nurturing enough!  (I know, I know...calm down, you say).

But, gee, this entire "text" book written on baby and toddler brain development has me wondering if we have been as responsive to all of his cries has possible; have we picked him up enough? (I think so; I wore him a lot has a baby and even wear him some now...); has daycare scarred him?; was he held enough while he was there as an infant?; are his emotional needs being met each time I leave him there and trot off to work as though that is more important than time spent with him? (again, I know, calm down).

He is a bright, happy, inquisitive, active, funny little guy.  I know that we are doing WONDERFULLY as his parents, and I feel that some of our parenting has honestly just come naturally to us. I know that when we see him upset or in distress, we run to him and hold him, not taking the time to think: "Are we spoiling him?" I know that despite what we have "heard" or even been told by his pediatrician that most nights of poor sleep and a crying baby, we have gone right to him, picked him up, held and rocked him, and even put him in our own bed to feel close to us while he slept (following all rules of sleep safety here...).  I have had nights, though, now that he is older, where I have probably let him cry a little longer or even put him down before he is fully asleep just because the messages firing off in my brain are: "He'll never learn to sleep if you always coddle him this way..."

I am learning as a parent that I need to be more in tune with the intuitive side of me, to listen to how I feel rather than what the "books" or (blogs) or doctors say (disregard the fact that I am partially writing this in response to a book).  As parents, we know our child. We know his temperament. We know screaming awake in the middle of the night is not normal. We know that a rock and cuddle before bed is what will calm him down and make him feel safe. We know that he likes being held, prefers it to sitting in the cart at the grocery store, and that's ok.  We know that he likes to feel close to us, touching us, running his fingers through our hair. We know these things, so we respond accordingly. It doesn't matter that the "sleep trainers" tell us that rocking him to sleep will only make him dependent on motion to ever go to sleep for the rest of his life. Who cares if carrying him through a store rather than making him ride in a cart is "spoiling" him? Right now, as his parents, it is our responsibility to respond to the child we know, the emotions he emotes, and his very be-ing.

Throwing out the "rules" and responding to my child based on how it feels to respond to him feels a bit rebellious. I am a rules girl after all.  But as I read that book last night, I was affirmed in our approach, in how we are responding, and even re-thinking those times in which I have leaned towards the "rules" rather than my own feelings as a mother.

Our baby needs us to respond, to hold him, to make him feel safe. This will not create a spoiled or coddled child. This will create a well-adjusted, trusting, and happy child.


6.29.2013

the Brutiful life


Before I get to this entry's title, can I just say that I LOVE being a mom?!  I never realized how much I would love this part of life so much. For sure it is exhausting and frustrating and even annoying at times...but even after a morning of thrown food and sippy cups, crying because he wants to go outside but can't, and a meltdown because we put the puffs ON HIS TRAY when he would rather get them out of the container himself...I still LOVE being a mom!

Colin continues to fill our lives with such wonder, and I am amazed each day at what he is learning and developing. We were showing him a picture of a polar bear in his new Noisy Zoo book. I swear he immediately starting saying "br."  You can ask him "where's the monkey?" when he has one on this shirt, and he'll point right to it. Of course, you can ask him that same question and now he just points to his shirt, even if it has a crab on it :)  He points at everything and sometimes just says "dis?" which sounds to me like he may honestly be asking "what is this?"  So, we tell him. At the lake this past week, he picked up his own version of the words "boat" "bird" and "duck" as we saw ALOT of those during the week.

Ah, life as a mom is so brutiful...("brutiful"- brutal and yet beautiful all at the same time).

When we are at the lake, one of my favorite things to do is take the jet ski out on the water. I prefer to do this in the early, early morning when the water is smooth as glass (and I mean this nearly literally...it is that smooth). It is so fun to pick up speed and just glide across the water. I usually avoid the late morning/afternoon rides because more boats are out and the water is choppier, which adds a level of anxiety for me as the jet ski bounces up and down making me feel like at any moment I could fly off.

But this year, early mornings were spent feeding and playing with an adorable 14 month old while the rest of the house slept. The only time I was able to go out, the choppiness had begun.  But this year, that did not stop me. This year, I took a chance. I headed out into the choppiness, increased my speed, and just reveled in the bounces and water splashing in my face.  And as I found myself purposely seeking out the choppier spots, just so I could rev up my speed and feel all the glorious bumps, I began to see a metaphor for life that I want to follow.

Bumping across the lake this particular late morning, I thought to myself: "Why do I always avoid this?  What is the worst that could happen?" Most likely, the "worst" is being bumped off and swallowing a whole bunch of nasty lake water. So, really, is it that bad?  So, I continued to seek out those bumps because it was invigorating and well worth the risk that came with it.

Those questions above are about more than just the bumps on the water. They are about the bumps and unknown of life in general. As one who has always avoided the bumps as much as possible, I am realizing that I may just have been missing out on some of the more invigorating bits of life. Those bumps can often lead to places of wonder and amazement that only come from those risks we are willing to take.

Out on the water that day, I thought about some of those things I have seen others do to which I often respond, "Oh, but I could never do that."  The impromptu 3 day road trip to see Niagra Falls with friends; the decision to move to NYC with no job and no connections to live in a city that speaks to me no matter what kind of job I may find; the decision to pick up and move to a foreign country so that my child can have a multi-cultural, multi-coastal experience.

Now, some of the above certainly have risks that far outweigh the wonder that may come out of it, but not all of them do. And while I am not suggesting that Chris and I just pick up and move our family to Costa Rica, I am suggesting that we sometimes stop analyzing and just "do" in life. 

So what does this all mean to me as a mother?  Well, as a mother, I want Colin to understand and be willing to take risks (calculated risks, risks that wouldn't lead him directly into a path of danger). I want him to try new things without the fear that he will be no good at them.  I want him to fall in love and be willing to express that that vulnerable love with his future life partner. I want him to reach out to the "new kid" at school when no one else will. I want him to try the choppy waters every once in a while rather than enjoying the safety net of the shore.  

As a woman, mother and partner, I am well aware that giving my heart to someone in marriage and together creating another little heart for this world is highly risky...because there are choppy waters (disagreements, toddler tantrums), but they are choppy waters worth navigating.  In my opinion, I would rather love too much than not all. I would rather feel frustrated and exhausted after an evening of toddler tantrums and thrown blocks than never parent at all.  Because those choppy waters are worth it. A life full of bumps and risks is so rewarding because those bumps only last a short while (and, yes, will continue to show up again and again), and life can feel that much more amazing when the smooth waters return. 

All of that to say, I love where life is taking us right now. I welcome the choppy waters and will revel in them when they come and then rejoice mightily when we find ourselves in between them. 

No one is perfect. No life is perfect. The bumps will come and they will go. But let me just say that I am so thankful for this brutiful life that God has chosen for us to lead.

4.06.2013

i never realized

I recently said I could write a novel about what this past year has meant to me. I am not ready to write that novel, but this blog is a good place to start. There is so much more to come.

Over this past year:

I never realized how strong I could be...or how weak. Childbirth is no joke. All pain aside, the sheer energy of waiting, pushing, waiting, pushing, waiting, pushing then ultimately having a c-section completely drained me.

I remember when the doctor came in to tell me she felt that at this point in my labor a c-section was best, I cried. I cried because I wasn't going to have the delivery I expected. I cried because I had not slept in 24 hours. I cried because I was exhausted.

I cried and yet all I could think was, finally, there is an "end" to all of this.

And then I heard my son's cry and I all I could think was, "this is just the beginning."

I never realized how much my body would endure after pregnancy, getting back into shape, nourishing my baby, waking around the clock, being at someone else's constant beck and call.

I have never felt so weak..and yet so strong (as a mother, a nourisher, a caretaker).

I never realized how much I could love my husband. How amazing he would be at loving me and loving our son. How much I need him.

I have never felt so weak or (with him) so strong.

I never realized how much I could love someone so new, so tiny, so needy, so loud, so tiring, so unpredictable.

I never realized how much I could love.

I have never felt so weak.

I have never felt so strong.