What do stay at home moms do all day?

A couple of days ago I did a voice memo for every 15 minutes of my day. I often get to the end of the day and wonder what I accomplished but mostly just see what I did not get done. Mind you this was a Sunday, our "day of rest". Needless to say I am not trying to be intentional, thanks to the recommendation of a great friend, for "me days". They are not selfish, they are not indulgent, they are necessary on the job precautions. If your day looks anything like this please try to find a way to take time out to recharge, refresh and listen to the creator of your day. If you have people in your life that don't understand what you do with "ALL YOUR TIME" maybe you should do a job report of your day. This was also eye opening for me to see if I do really waste time or what I can cut out or add in. Just a little bit of accountability for everyone. Hope you feel seen and encouraged by reading a little bit of my crazy. 



645 wake up to #2 asking for juice and #3 wanting to nurse
let the dog out get juice and milk for the girls make coffee

715 asked the girls to feed the dog end up feeding him myself ask them to get ready for church they tell me they don't want to go make breakfast for the girls change the clocks because I'm confused

730 make breakfast for the baby pour cream of wheat instead of baby cereal start over feed the baby drink my coffee watch curious George Halloween for the hundredth time

745 check Facebook change from Halloween to Thanksgiving flag eat my breakfast

8 o'clock scratch eating breakfast change a major blowout realize baby needs a bath instead get #3 ready for church

815 trying decide whether I want to choose a healthy breakfast or something fast settle on whole wheat bagel with peanut butter banana hemp hearts coconut and honey sit down to eat baby cries nurse baby while eating breakfast 

830 share breakfast with all of your 

children get #2 ready for church

845 talk to husband on phone nurse baby to sleep check Facebook

9 o'clock to try to get yourself ready with 1000 interruptions baby crying Fiona has to poop wipe but partially do your make up let dog out put dog away get everyone in car frantically pack bag to make sure you have enough of everything for everyone

930 time to go can't finish everything you need to
house is a mess didn't get to clean up from breakfast headed to church

talk to a friend about children's church on the ride to church

10 to 12 o'clock refreshing church service all kids in care (I forced Fiona and heard her crying down the hall but I just needed a break)

1230 lunch at Wendy's thanks to Papa Fiona pooped in the potty in the car (collect poop with a doggy bag wipe butt find a trashcan)

1 o'clock drive to MacArthur mall return lip stain at Sephora (try to explain problem to associate while kids touch everything and ask for lipstick 456 times)
visit CeCe at her grand opening at Garden Gazebo get a drink to share at Bon Pan
let kids play at the play place

Take all the kids to the bathroom (Fiona is doing a great job potty training)

4 o'clock we are back home #2 and #3are sleeping Simone will have quiet time

415 bathroom break for me (just kidding baby is crying awake)

430 watch how to get away with murder on nursing a baby

530 make dinner for everyone

630 baby is asleep i'm having a cuppa coffee

645 Fiona has an accident cleanup bathroom floor fold two loads of laundry

715 Rock baby back to sleep daddy is home

I stopped at this point but my parenting continues through the rest of the night with wake ups from all 3 which means I never get good sleep and this starts all over the next  day. Anyone working this schedule for any length of time would be run ragged. While I love being a mom and the blessing my family is is not lost on me. I am starting to recognize that I also need to be taken care of and that is only going to happen if I am intentional.

Let me know if you have any suggestions or tried and true methods to get recharged and feel human. 

Finding Yourself Right Where You Are

I have three beautiful daughters a lovely home a devoted husband and a lot of my angst and philosophical questioning has given way to practicalities. Still, in the midst of seeming endless dirty dishes and poopy diapers, I sometimes find myself still very unsettled. The days where all I can do is lock my two oldest outside to "play" and put the baby in the crib to "sleep" and go cry in my room so I can't hear anyone else cry, I ask myself and God many questions. Questions of purpose, questions or worth and of whether I am failing miserably or if He is still even listening. I indulge myself a few minutes to collect myself so the old man doesn't rear his ugly head. But lately I have been finding those moments happen far more often and the indulgent few moments not being enough.


I had been praying for provision and purpose putting far too many irons in the fire to help ends meet and my heart fill, mostly in vain. Then through a series of seemingly unassuming events, I discovered a hidden talent, passion and additional income all in one.

It started with a set of cheap face paints a dear friend gave to me and two very eager little girls that wanted to become a new character EVERY DAY. At first I was doing it to appease them, then I found myself getting frustrated that my canvas wouldn't sit still for long and I couldn't add as much detail as I wanted to perfect the rainbow butterfly princess fairy.

Then my mother was nice enough to let me raid her huge barn full of junk (umm I mean treasure) and list it on Craigslist to get some extra money. I started with the big furniture pieces to get them out of the way to look through the more collectible pieces. I had an idea to spruce up a few pieces with some spray paint and I quickly made a few extra hundred dollars. Then I discovered a huge lot of old beautiful windows and thought I could paint family signs or something of the sort for the holidays or as presents.  I had some dollar store paintbrushes and five colors of acrylic paint leftover from a Father's Day project and thought, "anyone can paint letters right?" So I put some feelers out on social media and nobody really bit. I laid in bed one night counting the bills that were unpaid and the lack of opportunity and started to tumble down that rabbit hole of self pity. And I am not sure exactly  the timeline of things but I got a harebrained idea that I wanted to paint a mermaid for my sister for her birthday on a window. I spent hours into the night searching for inspiration as the rest of my house slept and the next morning I awoke and neglected most of my responsibilities to get this idea out of my head and onto the window. The process was so pleasurable and the finished product wasn't half bad. I had a second window and a little more paint left and my second mermaid came to life.

I was amazed at the nearness of God as I painted and the hushed conversation in my mind of creation and detail and personality.  It is incredibly difficult to replicate the human figure, far more complicated to think of something so creative and beautiful out of nothing. I watched this creation come to life and I felt a pride and a wonder about her. I thought of my children and even myself and the creative detailed process that went into making my inmost being. The Father was teaching me his heart and sharing his creative genius.

Soon I was getting such positive feedback on my art. Next thing you know people are commissioning me to do specific pieces. Isn't God hilarious? Here I am, a stay at home mom, with no degree, no art training and a yearning in my heart. He took the junk laying around my house and the little bits of time in my life and made an artist out of me and provided for my family.

Make your requests known to God, open the box of possibilities, and be diligent with what you already have and watch some magic happen. Who knows what hidden talents we all have waiting to be ignited by the creator of the Universe. Watch Him make room for the gifts He has given you. God sees you right where you are, let Him redefine your understanding of yourself and your circumstances.

What Romance Looks Like Three Kids, a Mortgage, and a Minivan Later

When I was single I had grandiose ideas of what marriage and parenting should look like. Since I wasn't demonstrated these things at home well, I decided I would just do the complete opposite and add a dash of a Hollywood romcom or two. Turns out real life doesn't work that way and despite your best efforts, being a grown up is way tougher than anyone can prepare you for.

Now that I am in a new decade I am starting to TRY to appreciate what is right in front of me and not what I don't have. Most of life hinges on perspective. So here is a list of what romance might look like after you say I do, the honeymoon is over and nobody is sending anymore gifts for growing up.

1. Husband in robe holding crying child cleaning dishes
2. Coming home from 12 hour shift to toast freezer waffles so you can get ten extra minutes of sleep
3. Remembering you like vinegar with your fries at Five Guys even though its been ages since you have been there or had any date at all
4. Wearing any child in any carrier
5. Still grabbing your jiggly bits even though they have gone quite a bit softer and farther south
6. Giving you the red and clear gummy bears out of the pack
7. Attending to your ugliest body malfunctions after childbirth
8. Remembering how you like your coffee and bringing it to you even if you will never drink the whole mug hot because of a zillion screaming children
9. Keeping the kids busy while you put on your make up alone for two and a half minutes
10. Taking the diaper genie out after you have overstuffed it because you are just too exhausted to take the extra steps to the trash can

I could do this all day folks. The fact is we are in a tough season with three little ones and never enough money to stretch or time to spend. The choice I'm faced with daily is to find the romance in this season in our real lives. The fact of the matter is the romance really is truer and sweeter because you have seen the worst of each other and you still choose to do the little selfless things to hint to the other that your vows still stand and you still find the other totally HOT!

How to Get 8 Men You've Never Met to Attend Your Birth

*Disclaimer: This birth story starts 2 weeks before the real action happens, so if you want to skip ahead I don't blame you.

*This story contains details of bodily functions pertaining to birth (it is nothing like T.V.) read at your own discretion

Feb 19: I went in for my routine 37 week check up. I was informed my blood pressure was elevate and there was protein in my urine. I was informed about the signs and symptoms of preeclampsia and the possibility they would need to induce if things worsened. My cervix was soft but high and closed.

Feb 20: Follow up with a 24 hour urine collection and labs. Blood pressure was down and there was only trace protein labs looked good.

Feb 22: Went to L&D for monitoring for decreased fetal movement. Baby was fine, blood pressure was slightly elevated, trace protein. I could feel mild wrapping contractions coming about every 10 minutes and spotted them on the monitor. Cervix was checked and nurse reported I was at a 1. I was sent home and that night was woken up by uncomfortable contractions that were about 5 minutes apart for an hour and then disappeared.

Feb 23: I was uncomfortable and had contractions at no regular interval for a good portion of the day. Nothing ever developed into a pattern.

The rest of the week it was a similar story, contractions at varying degrees of intensity, duration and frequency much to no avail. My glorious wonderful mother came over many times to let me rest and to be prepared if things transitioned into the real thing. The house stayed clean, the bags were packed and the question on everyone's mind was, is this real labor. It was exhausting and frustrating and confusing.

Feb 27: I go in for my 38 week check up to find all had not been in vain, I was 3cm dilated 60% effaced and baby was at -1 station. My doctor stripped my membranes and told me maybe should would see me this weekend but it could be a couple weeks. I left feeling hopeful and accomplished.

Feb 28: We took the girls to the mall to burn some energy and help get rid of cabin fever. I left them in the play area to go and "walk". I mostly just worked up a sweat and got many concerned glances at my huffing a puffing and giant bellied waddling self. After I thoroughly wore myself out and the girls were tired we went home to rest. I was pleasantly surprised to find I had walked my mucus plug right out and once again thought to myself maybe this is the night. I had contractions through the night but they were very manageable.

March 1: We postponed my baby shower in case things picked up. This day was pretty uneventful and I kind of regretted not having the distraction of the social event.

March 2: I slept through the night without any troubles. I woke up with energy and motivation. I did my hair put on makeup cleaned ran errands etc. I don't think I had any contractions at all that day.

March 3: My mom came over to take care of the girls. I scheduled a prenatal massage and was missing that gusto I had the day before. The massage therapist used accupressure to try to help get things going and just helped me get nice and relaxed. It was business as usual until a pretty strong contraction woke me up and were followed by decreasingly strong contractions every about 10-15 minutes. I got out of bed had a snack and a drink and timed them hoping this would be it since my mom had spent the night.

March 4: I woke up discouraged and tired. I was just so sick of wondering and waiting and guessing that I determined I wasn't going to care until I just couldn't handle the pain anymore and then I would know it was the real thing. I called the chiropractor to see if they had an opening thinking maybe the baby was having a hard time engaging. I was having some contractions that required a little more focus than usual but didn't seem terribly regular. I helped get Simone ready for school. Daniel packed up both girls and my mom and I traveled to Portsmouth to the chiropractor. I had a contraction when I was checking in and the receptionist asked if I was ok and if I was going to need the hospital. Retrospectively maybe I looked worse off than I was allowing myself to feel. The doctor was running behind and I casually glanced at the clock every time I had a contraction, they were about 15 minutes apart and I had to pee about as often. On her way out an apprenticing midwife said she overheard my situation and encouraged me to sit forward. I told her I had been avoiding it because it increased the pressure in my bottom significantly she agreed and encouraged me that was a good thing. I had my exam to assess what the plan would be and was told I would have to come back for my adjustment at 3pm. I agreed to go through the tunnel again at rush hour traffic time because I was desperate to get things going.

I went home had some lunch and discussed whether my mom should go home or not. We went back and forth back and forth because there really just seemed no way to tell. I was still having manageable contractions but my mom noticed they were getting stronger and ultimately decided to stay just in case.

Daniel took me back for my adjustment at 3 and I was beginning to not be able to talk through the contractions I was having on the way to the doctor. I thought it was because the car ride was bumpy because I had experienced them pick up every time I road in the car for the last few days. I had a great adjustment and felt some relief right away and it was a beautiful day so we decided to take a short walk near the water to see if we could pump it up a notch. I immediately noticed a strengthening intensity to my ever present contractions but still very manageable.

THIS IS WHERE THINGS START TO GET CRAZY!!!!!!!!!

I tired quickly of the walking and we needed to get home. We hit the 4 o'clock tunnel traffic and my contractions were quite uncomfortable at this point. I was moaning through them with my eyes closed and didn't want to be talked to. I pulled out my contraction timer 4:35 just to get a feel for how long they were lasting and how far apart because the pressure in my bottom was increasing. None of this alarmed me much because this was very familiar territory from when I had Fiona and I was no where near the end with these signs.

As I moaned and groaned and tried to escape the pain in the car, the contractions were consistently about a minute or so long and between 8 and 9 minutes apart. All I could think was I wanted to get home to my own space and get them to 5 minutes apart for an hour so I could go to the hospital.

When we got home I went straight to my room turned on some worship music in my headphones and began to search for positions that would make me more comfortable. I was all over the place. I was rocking and standing,  on the ball, on all fours, sitting on the toilet etc. I encouraged Daniel to make dinner because the girls would be hungry and if we had to go to the hospital we would all be super hungry later.

I closed my eyes and tried to participate with what my body was doing and let the worship wash over me. The tears began to flow not so much from the pain but just the emotional exhaustion and the song that was playing "How Can It Be". I was aware of God's presence and care of me in this unique time of my connection with creating life with Him.

Then something changed and got more serious because I had to turn off the music and really focus. I was trying to find a groove or a position to help the pain/pressure. Two contractions came close together and then went back to 8 minutes. I asked Daniel to run me a bath to help with the pressure and pain. As soon as my feet hit the water everything became heightened. I tried to sit down I couldn't, I had to get out. I sat on the toilet because of the tremendous pressure. Everything was just a blur I am not sure there was much conscious thought. I just became to yell/scream until I ran out of breath and I pushed as hard as I could, I guess to find relief, from what I don't know. Finally I felt a burst and my water exploded and I had a bowl movement and immediately felt a tremendous amount of burning and pressure.

I reached down and felt something I couldn't imagine what. I remember thinking there is no way that could be her head. I yelled for Daniel to call the hospital that something was wrong and for my mom to come and look what was going on. She couldn't see anything at first and so she put a towel down in the hall and I got on all fours and she thought she saw a cord because it was pale and blue. Daniel meanwhile is on the phone with 911 and the girls are standing by freaking out because mom is in pain.

It was total chaos from here and I was in a bit of a panic because I was afraid the cord had prolapsed and I would need to hold it in until they could rush me to the hospital. Well at this point in labor your don't tell your body what to do, the urge to push was uncontrollable. Finally my mom could tell it was the head and once I knew that it was seconds before her head was fully out and body shortly to follow into my moms arms. It was such sweet relief and for a few seconds I didn't hear anything just enjoyed the relief. Then I began to hear questions passed from dispatcher to Daniel to mom about Vivienne. Sweep her mouth, is she crying, she is kind of blue and I felt the tension building. Then I just asked my mom to hand her to me through my legs and I cuddled her up to me and I knew she was ok. She was calm and peaceful and looking around. She wasn't crying but she didn't look in distress.

Then the sirens got closer and closer and one after one a bunch of men dressed in navy blue loaded into my house. It was like the clown car at the circus. I just kept looking up to see new faces I think there were 8 of them. They were asking me questions and I could feel myself leveling out because I began to joke around. They draped me with a sheet as I was stark naked because I had been trying to get in the bath. I delivered the placenta they cut the cord and gave the baby to Daniel and a team began to work with them to make sure she was ok. They collected the placenta in a bag and loaded me on the gurney placed my placenta in between my legs handed me the baby and wheeled us out to take a fancy ambulance ride to the hospital.

We only live about ten minutes away from the hospital and the rest was business as usual. They checked me out checked her out and everyone seemed fine. I just kept realizing I had had my baby at home without drugs and basically had no idea what was going on until I had a baby in my arms. She was born at roughly 6 pm and only minutes from when the contractions began to get a little closer together.

I am so grateful to God for our health and our story and that my mom did not decide to go home for the night.

P.S. They told me to wait to call the hospital when my contractions were one minute long and five minutes apart for an hour. That was my goal and that never came. Now I am one of those ladies who has an accidental home birth and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Shades of Grey

This was written Thursday March 01, 2007 long before there were 50 shades of them. There is no correlation. I was unmarried and without children.

Shades of Grey

Shades of grey make me stay
wandering wanting waiting
Circle spinning puzzle fitting
keeping my ends tattered and frayed
I pontificate and sputter
spinning gossamer safety nets
with every word I utter
Hoping with my meager efforts
I can break the fall
The peaks of faith seem far to steep
but you have gone and saved us all
Still I busy my hands and worry my head
You sit down aside me and offer me bread
to ease my soul a cup of wine
you say these
these are the ties that bind
So close your eyes
and lay your head upon my breast
For tomorrow comes another day
with all its own shades of grey

How to Shepherd a Sensitive Heart

Since I have transitioned to staying at home full time I have found an increased awareness of the importance of my role as mother. God made it pretty clear to me not too long ago that no matter what way a child is wired it is the job and the privilege of the parent to help to shepherd that into something beneficial: i.e. strong willed either equals stubborn and inflexible or a strong leader with tenacity.

My eldest is super intelligent and has a propensity towards dramatics. Her language skills are off the chart and she feels things very deeply. She is four and a half. Some of the theatrics I attribute to her age but I also recognize pieces of myself in her that I desperately want to help her navigate better than I have been able to. As I battle my own imperfections especially in the department of patience, I find myself praying for wisdom and strategies to help shepherd her unique wiring. I have recently had a small, dare I say, break through and wanted to share it for others charged with the magnificent role of raising an emotionally intense child.

It is amazing how children serve as little mirrors into your soul. As I have watched my daughter melt into tears over the tiniest offense and segregate herself from love and completely shut down, I see a reflection of myself and broken nature of a fallen world. Because I am a deep feeler, some might say I am making too much out of this, but I would rather err on the side of caution then see the problem compound and spiral out of control in the hormonally charged teen years.

It is an ongoing battle to keep up with all the demands of mundane life with patience and grace while keeping your pulse on the ever changing growth of your children. I often have to stop myself and remember that talking my preschooler through challenging emotions and thoughts is more important than crossing off the rest of my to do list. So here are a few things I have learned when interacting with an emotionally sensitive child.

Hugs go a long way. Sometimes when things have gotten particularly heated and I can feel my own patience running out and my girl spiraling out of control, I stop and say, "do you need a hug?" She generally says yes and it usually takes the threat level down a few notches. I find that when the love is plugged back in she is more receptive to my instruction and I am more open to hearing her words instead of her whining. For more on this I highly suggest reading Loving Your Kid on Purpose, it has changed some of my perspectives on the order of importance when navigating tough parenting terrain.

Schedules help to keep the number of meltdowns to a minimum. Don't read this as I let my kids run my life. I think it is important to raise flexible go with the flow kids. I also know that when I don't eat or sleep or have too much going on I am grumpy and I am a grown up. I want to set my kids up for success. So if a melt down begins to occur I often ask myself have I set my kids and myself up for failure by packing our schedule too tight, forgetting a meal (don't judge) skipping a nap time, or just been a grumpy mom because I didn't manage my own time well. My kids thrive on schedule and I get the feeling that most do. It is comforting to know what to expect and what is expected of you.

Tone of voice is key. I tell my husband all the time, there are many ways to say one thing, each will be received differently. This is so much more true, I find, with children. They are so tuned into your body language, your tone, your words, they are learning how to be human from you. Think about it they didn't even exist a few short years ago and now they are walking talking humans after a few thousand hours of observing YOU day and night. Don't let the pressure get to you.

Lastly, and this was my little breakthrough this week, be creative with the tools you give your children to navigate their growing hearts and minds. After all one day they will be doing this on their own.

My girl loves to write and draw and got a fuzzy Frozen notebook for Christmas with a pen. I was sure it would end up another forgotten toy that I would eventually throw away as a waste of money but this thing has become a priceless tool. A few nights ago as we were having the usual night time battle and tears ensued and talking wasn't working, I suggested she write down how she was feeling. I am and have always been big on journaling, so I thought, if it helps me maybe it will help her. At first she protested saying she couldn't write fancy like me and I suggested drawing pictures and then she asked me to transcribe her thoughts. At first she was at a loss. I asked her how are you feeling? She said sad and then we began to write a prayer that turned into thanksgiving and a beautiful portrait of our family and God watching over us. She then asked me to write a prayer of my own and I realized this was exactly the way it should be. As my daughter opened her heart to me I was now called to use my strength and wisdom to pray on her behalf. I spoke the words over her as I began to write them down and I felt a shift. I felt empowered and cradled by the Father all at the same time while holding my own child. We both were able to turn our worries to God together and we both felt better afterwards. I wasn't sure if this would be a one off thing or not but the next day she asked if we could do it again. Then today when she began to feel upset she said she was going to go and get her journal.

This takes a fair amount of intentionality and I do have to stop what I am doing sometimes to help her. I hope though that she will harness the power of turning her emotions over to God and it will become a habit that helps her to manager her thoughts as she grows into a young woman. I want to send her into adulthood with an arsenal full of how to extinguish the enemies arrows and glorify God despite her circumstances. I am sure there are many trials to come and tools I have yet to discover but I am glad that the Holy Spirit can inspire us, as terribly flawed parents, to hone the incredible raw treasure that comes in the form of an infant.

Does anyone else have sensitive children? What have you found that works with your soft hearted ones?

Things NOT To Say To Your Wife (or any female in your life for that matter)

Inspired by real life situations in my house:

(an on going compilation)

If you happen to be a little more on the black and white side or just lack a verbal filter, I implore you to take a few of these tips and put them in your back pocket for a happier life.  Successfully talking to any female in your life depends heavily upon your choice of words and your tone of voice. When in doubt, sandwich your statement in compliments and use a happy tone, raising your intonation towards the end of the question. If you are still receiving adverse reactions, practice saying less. 

1. Is that what you're wearing?

2. Is your make up supposed to look like that?

3. Why is the house always a mess?

4. What is for dinner? Is it something unconventional?

5. What is that smell? (sniffs in your direction)

6. Who keeps doing "insert annoying act" (when you are the only two adults in the house)

7. Why do you like terrible shows? 

8. Why do you like terrible music? (or any variation thereof)

9. Your family is crazy.

10. You look crazy and homeless right now. 

This is not an exhaustive list and should only be used as a reference. Every female is different and will have different expectations.  

*Note to women: These comments typically do not come from a place of malice but from sheer ignorance. 

Also I love my man!

How a Stomach Bug Saved me from a C-Section (or the day Fiona Corinne was born)

WARNING - No details spared. Not for the faint of heart. This is a real birth story.

It will be a week tomorrow that my second daughter was born so I want to get this down before the details get too hazy.

This birth story really starts with the birth of my first daughter who was stubbornly breech and gave me no option but to have a c-section. While I am incredibly grateful for a healthy child and a healthy me, it was not the natural water birth I had dreamed of or planned for. I knew when I got pregnant again I would do everything in my power to have a VBAC.

Fast forward to July 2012 and a niggling feeling in the wee hours of the morning, I found out I was expecting unexpectedly...again. We were living with Daniel's parents and I had just taken the position as Children's Ministry Director at Big House Church and we were trying to build a house and just decided to wait to have more kids.

This pregnancy was different from the start. Most of all we were just much busier and with a toddler and the mystery of motherhood revealed you just don't have time to sit and ponder much. The months passed far more quickly this go round. I desperately wanted to have a home birth as I knew I would be pegged "high risk" as a VBAC. Unfortunately the home birth didn't work out for our particular circumstances or set of risk factors and truth be told my husband wasn't super comfortable with the idea.

So my next best choice was the midwives at the Woman Care Center where I was previously. Everything was going well and as expected until somewhere around the 35 week I started to feel a general feeling of unwell. My blood pressure was on the cusp and I had trace proteins in my urine. Labs showed elevated uric acid and slightly lowered platelets. For all the medical novices such as myself this was a sign of possible developing preeclampsia.

Arrow to the heart I had made it through so well. No swollen ankles, a slight scare with the first failed glucose test but in the end no gestational diabetes and I was still working and mobile and handling it. Of course as soon as they suspect preeclampsia you are on high alert. I had to start going in for two a week visits and weekly ultrasounds lots of labs etc. Not my idea of a natural time. Each time it seemed like there was something else to talk about. "Your placenta is enlarged oh wait no its not" "You don't have protein in your urine oh wait yes you do". The whole ordeal was a bit frustrating. I saw a different person every week and nobody gave me a straight answer as to what was going on with me. As the weeks passed and I took some good natural advice from a midwife friend to eat an entire rotisserie chicken by myself and chug water, I began to feel better. The baby looked beautiful on all the tests they did and the weeks rolled right into my due date.

I had been having painless contractions for a couple of weeks before my appointment on April 1st and was hoping it was doing something at least. As I was very gingerly examined and deflatingly told absolutely nothing was going on in that department, I had my heart set on just waiting the process out. It was when I was brought into the midwife's office and conferenced in with the OB and told that a repeat c-section was the wisest choice and that it should be two days later that I had a hard time holding back the tears. This is not at all what I expected.

I felt God whisper to me again, "Do you trust me?" I just knew I was made to birth my own baby. So my courage rallied and I began to stand my ground ask lots of questions and tell them I needed time to discuss the decision with my husband. As soon as I left the office they began to call me to convince me this was the best decision. After prayer and a talk with a few important people I convinced them to let me wait until the end of the week and that I wanted to try and induction first. So they scheduled me for an induction on April 7th. I would still need to go in for checks twice that week.

***OK THIS IS WHERE THE LABOR PART STARTS SORRY***

On April 2nd I went in for an ultrasound (baby still looked great) and a non stress test and she seemed to be a little sleepy which of course they make out to be a bit scary. Then I saw Dr. Dixon for an exam and was told I was 1cm and 65% effaced. She assured me I had more than enough room to birth the baby and that she didn't feel a c-section was as urgent as previously thought. She said an induction would be long and hard but she was willing to try it if I wanted to. Thank you Dr. Dixon for your factual advice and respect for my instincts to make my own decision.

The rest of that day I went home and had uncomfortable contractions that were irregular. Daniel was starting night shift that night and that made me a little nervous. I sent him off to work and then put Simone to bed watched a little TV on the ball while drinking red raspberry leaf tea. I was still having uncomfortable contractions so I decided to go to bed. At around 3:30 am I awoke very uncomfortable and my belly felt very tight. I was passing what seemed to be my mucus plug (sorry if TMI) and the tightening seemed to be coming quite close together. I was so tired and tried to drift off in between but the pain was waking me up. Having never experienced a contraction with Simone I wasn't sure if this was labor or Braxton Hicks. I called Daniel and told him I thought he should come home not necessarily because I thought I was going to have the baby anytime soon but the thought of laboring with an almost 3 year old while my husband slept away the day was terrifying. He came home and I called my mom just to give her the heads up and she decided to come as well to help with Simone.

Everyone got there as I continued having contraction around 4 and half minutes apart with a fair amount of discomfort. They kept asking if they could do anything but I realized I just had to do it myself there was no really "helping" any of this. Thoughts kept going through my head of, "this better be real labor because if this is just the beginning I am not sure I can do this". Around 7:30 am they started to ease up and get further apart and deepen my fear that I was not in real labor and that real labor must be really really terrible. I fell asleep for a bit and then got up to start my day as normal and try not to over think things.

The day was pretty uneventful, I thought about the looming induction on Sunday and decided to do some walking to see if that would get things started again though I welcomed the break because I was exhausted and a little scared of the pain to come. I had some back pain and lots of pressure most of the day but nothing to regular or serious. I ate quite a bit which made me a little worried for  impending labor but I was starving. We had dinner all together and I ate a ton of homemade kale chips which I had been craving for days. Then towards the end of dinner I couldn't sit still in my chair as the contractions came back hard and fast. I decided to start timing them at around 8pm and in around an hour they went from being 7 and a half minutes to 4 and half minutes apart again. Once the contractions started bringing me to tears my confidence began to waiver especially because I wasn't convinced I was really in labor. I couldn't get comfortable and I could not use any of those visualizations I had read about this was way more painful and in a different kind of way then I had anticipated. For all the moms to be wondering like I was what it feels like the best way I can describe it is the worst menstrual cramps, constipation and some sense of bone pain. Sorry just keeping it real. Labor is not for the faint of heart and it is terribly real and raw. Amazing in retrospect but I am sure that is thanks to the nice hormones that you get after birth. Anyway, I digress.

I began to say with just about every contraction, "I don't want to do this anymore" and I knew I was fantasizing a little about an epidural especially because I didn't know how long this was going to take. We called the midwife and she said, "you sound like you are in a fair amount of discomfort go ahead and come in."

I still had not packed a hospital bag and I couldn't think of what I needed in that moment. I didn't need much of anything but I did forget my wallet and had to have a friend run it up to me. Contractions in the car suck that is all I can say. We had to enter through the ER and that was embarrassing cause it was packed full of people and I just wanted to moan and cry but also felt I needed to hold myself together. So I closed my eyes and pretended nobody else was around on the entire wheel chair ride up to labor and delivery.

They checked me I was at 3-4cm which told me I had a long way to go. They tried to get and IV going which is always terribly painful and unsuccessful. Nobody wants their veins dug in whilst having contractions. Three separate nurses tried and finally they got a line. Every contraction would come and I would grip the sides of the bed and raise my bottom because of the intense pressure. The nurse kept telling me to welcome the pressure and open my hands. I just felt frustrated at that. I was on a monitor and all sorts of machines and had to go to the bathroom all the time but couldn't. Laboring on my back reclined seemed like the most unnatural thing to do and I quickly started doubting my decision to come and my resolve to go drug free was quickly deteriorating. They asked me my pain management plan and I didn't really have one and barely whispered I think I want an epidural and they had anesthesia paged. They had to check my platelets and get a full bag of fluids before I could get this magical drug and everything began to happen at warp speed. Around this time I also started to get extremely nauseous and proceeded to throw up my entire dinner. Finally Dr. Dave came in and gave me and epidural which was totally different and way better than the spinal block I had gotten with the c-section. I had no idea they were different. I could now feel no contractions and only a tiny bit of pressure. I was however shivering like crazy and steel feeling nauseous and dry heaving every once in a while.

The midwife checked me as soon as the epidural took and I was at 7cm and I remember thinking I progressed really fast but that the worst was yet to come. I wasn't sure if I regretted my decision but the relief was over riding the thought process and I started to dose off. The midwife broke my water without asking me which again was a fleeting disappointment  Then they insisted they put an internal monitor in the baby's scalp which I wasn't fond of but they made it sound like it was necessary and I wasn't in the mood to argue.

This is when the drama started. The internal monitor kept dropping the baby's heart rate and they couldn't decide if it was a faulty lead or if she wasn't tolerating labor well. Every time I threw up her heart rate would disappear or drop to the 90s the doctor was paged and the big "c" word was dropped. My heart sank. They said they didn't like the way the baby was looking the nurse was trying to tell them she wasn't sure if the lead was working. They kept switching back and forth to the external monitor re-positioning the internal monitor trying a different one etc. Each time a c-section looked like a definite her heart rate would stabilize and everyone would leave the room as they waited for me to get to complete. This song and dance happened a few times so  much so that Daniel was dressed in scrubs and I was prepped for surgery. Finally they checked me I was complete but they were going to wheel me into the OR just in case. The midwife asked me to give a practice push and informed us we were having this baby right here right now. They dropped the table and lifted my legs and I was told to hold my breath and push as hard and fast as I could. I pushed a couple of times. They told me I was a great pusher even with an epidural and then I started to throw up. The Dr. informed me he was sorry I was throwing up but that it was even more effective then pushing. As my last dry heave came and went her head was born and with one more push she was out and in my arms. A beautiful, healthy, pink, baby girl. Daniel cut the cord and got blood everywhere including his face. I had a small tear and got stitched up which hurt the worst out of the whole ordeal. Fiona scored a perfect APGAR and then latched on to nurse for a good 30 minutes only moments after she came into the world.

I am convinced the throwing up helped me avoid a looming c-section. Though it wasn't the all natural birth I was picturing I can say for sure that giving birth the way God intended is far better than being cut wide open. I feel awesome not even a week later and I have even had thoughts that maybe just maybe I could do this again. Which is nothing short of a miracle.

P.S. My next door neighbor had her son the very same day as me. What are the odds of that? But hers ended in the umbilical cord being birthed first in a knot and an emergency c-section and almost loss of her full term son. I am grateful for the Dr's and what they are able to do when necessary. The baby and momma are both now home and healthy.

Photo Book

Click here to view this photo book larger

Shutterfly offers exclusive photobook layouts so you can make your book just the way you want.

The Normal People's Movement

I often think of how if we could just figure out how to use what we have for the "common good" so many issues would be resolved. I understand that there are many levels to the working out of this thought but a few simple ideas.
-Instead of retiring to golf courses and shopping why not use what you have learned and earned to give an orphan a fresh start.
-Instead of having 2 guest rooms, 2 living rooms, and 3 bathrooms, why not give one to a foster child.
-Instead of throwing away endless leftovers every week, why not invite a less fortunate to your table and maybe learn something by listening to them.
-Instead of spending endless hours on facebook, twitter, pinterest, angry birds, etc. why not use your smart phone to call someone and encourage them.
- Instead of throwing away all the things you don't need, donate them or personally find a new home for them.
- Instead of going shopping every time you need a small thrill, save the money and buy a family a goat, some grain, some clean water.
- Instead of being in your own world and wearing a stern face, hand out smile freely and know they do make a difference whether you get to see it or not.
- Instead of throwing everything away, find a way to recycle, make it your challenge to see if you can recycle more than you toss.
- Plant something, be amazed as it grows. If you can eat what grows it will be even more awesome.
- Instead of wondering how and if you can change the world, start with your neighbors. Maybe we should start borrowing a cup of sugar or an egg again. Bake something and bring it over.

* Note: I feel very convicted as I write this and plan to check some of these things off my list. I am signing up in support of Kony 2012 for starters.
* Also, this is not a post of condemnation or guilt but of empowerment. We all have so much power and it is the biggest lie to believe otherwise. Use what is in your hand, change the world, and save lives. Live in the freedom and power that was bought for you on the cross. If you don't know what that means, I would be so thrilled to share it with you.

Teva

My body won't do what my mind dreams

I am a type A personality, a planner, a list maker, a perfectionist. All of this has been matched by my energy level up until a few years ago when I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I was personally devastated at the thought of having to take a pill every single day just to remain "normal". Years into the diagnosis and four increases in dosage I am more disappointed that despite my medicine and my best efforts to live healthfully, I feel like a 90 year old woman. I am sure being a mother and not getting solid sleep for over two years does not help in this department but I am just at the end of my rope.
I pray for God to heal it, I wonder if this is a lesson I must learn, I try with sheer will power to move through my coma like lethargy, and sometimes I just cry because I don't know what else to do. I am in the teary phase right now, thus the post, as I am sure not many will be interested in my health problems. This is more for my sanity.
I am terrible at accepting grace, not having a definitive answer, and being out of control. So I am leaning more towards thinking I am in the midst of a big lesson. My mind plans and dreams in the prison of a mocking body. My biggest challenge is to continue to encourage my soul to continue to dream, to do what I can, and to accept grace for the things I can't. I have to keep hope alive that I don't have to just lay down and accept that this is the way I will always feel. I believe in the Creator of cells, bones, muscles, and hormones, and the order He commands of them. Until that order comes I pray that my mind and soul will have the fortitude to glorify Him despite my body's complaining. I want to feel the strength and might of my Creator flowing through me fully knowing it is no effort of my own. I want just enough energy to do exactly His will and to share His love to my fullest capacity.

Things I want to do:
Bake the kids at the bus stop muffins and give them and ear to listen.
Host worship nights at my house.
Spend time with my husband after 8pm.
Make healthy meals for my family.
Wake up for prayer in the morning.
Sew- something/anything.
Take a class online.
Keep my housework caught up.
Do creative activities with my little sponge.
Sleep through the night.
Wake up refreshed and ready to go.
Volunteer at church.
Foster children.
Rock and snuggle orphans.
Smile more.
Get through a month without pain relievers.
Practice music (get a drum set).
Explore more.
Random acts of kindness.
Read more books.

Happy to You

The birthday weekend did not get started as I had anticipated. It took me an hour and a half to get off work, pick up the baby, and get home in traffic. Once arriving home I find my husband passed out in bed feeling awful and a hungry baby repeating over and over yummies. I quickly realize the kitchen is a disaster and there is no food to cook, not that I could manage any culinary skills in that war zone, I pack the little one back up in the car and make my way to the grocery store. Picking up many more items than I intended, I finally get my daughter dinner way too late for her liking. After a tearful dinner, we tried a hot bath to transition into night time. Only a few moments into Simone's relaxing bath, she is clamoring for me fearfully, trying desperately to get out of the bath. I looked over the edge to see the culprit was a turd that she perceived as "trying to get her". Oh the joys of motherhood!
I swept her out of the tub, pulled all the toys out, drained the tub, she peed on the floor, I gave her a second bath, and finally got her to sleep.
I did manage to escape to Life Group for some much needed fellowship and studying of the Word, after both my babies were tucked in bed.
Saturday began with cleaning most of the day, not my idea of a fun birthday. Then my MIL, the baby, and I decided to attempt shopping. Let's just say an 18 month old doesn't quite grasp the intrigue of looking in countless stores and getting dressed and undressed over and over again. At this point I conceded, in my mind, that this is just what grown-up birthdays look like.
ENTER GLORIOUS, MAGICAL, ACTUAL DAY OF BIRTH.
Simone and I woke up slowly singing "Happy to you", her verion of Happy Birthday to You. My first birthday gift was my big girl going pee pee on the potty. HOORAY. We called Daddy at work to tell him the good news and I was passed from post to post trying to contact him, not uncommon in the Norfolk City Jail, only to get back to the original person I talked to, they couldn't find him. Oh well, we called Nonna to let her know instead. Then we got ready to go to church to celebrate my birthday with Jesus.
Daniel called me shortly before we left from his cell phone, which is unusual because he can't take his cell phone in the jail, to tell me he had to transport an inmate to another jail and to wish me a Happy Birthday.

All things as normal until coffee break comes at church and as I sit alone sipping my morning brew, someone taps me, very close to my butt. I am thinking, who is getting fresh with me this morning, turn to find my most handsome husband with a fist full of flowers. It took me several moments to compute why he was there. I asked him if he was working, dumb question. He said he had been off all day and had gotten up at 4:30 a.m and left the house to convince me that he had gone to work all just to surprise me. I was elated and grinning from ear to ear. Spending the day together was just what I had wanted. We heard a fantastic sermon and got challenged by the word of God.

We went home for a quick lunch and a nap for the little one. My husband proceeds to give me a foot massage and then ask me if I want to go shopping for a birthday outfit, does he know me or what. We pack up and go to TJ Maxx my favorite one stop shop. I get a few birthday outfits.

We went home for Simone to catch a second nap to be well rested for my birthday dinner and I got to take a nice long shower and actually do my hair and make-up. My husband tells me I look lovely and he wishes we had planned something more fancy because I am all dressed up. We stopped at Barnes & Noble to get some books, my happy tank is already brimming. Then we head over to our dear friends house for the planned home made birthday dinner.

We are welcomed into the house as usual and as I turn the corner, the room is filled with people I have come to love shouting SURPRISE! My husband and friends had pulled together one of my life long dreams, a TRUE SURPRISE PARTY! I had no idea. These friends were committed to throwing me off the track. I had numerous people tell me they were sorry they were busy the weekend of my birthday and that maybe we could do something the following weekend. I was so excited to say the least.

As the party began and the beautiful dishes everyone brought to share were uncovered, someone asked if we could get a group photo before we got started. The girls all pile in together to strike a pose and Daniel says, "I think Teva should take the picture" and hands me the most beautiful Canon Rebel T3, the camera I have been dreaming of since 2004. Could this day get any better?

We feasted, we visited, we laughed, I had a cupcake, the babies helped me open presents I never expected to get, and my heart was more full then I think it may have ever been. I can't really begin to explain, beyond the obvious reasons, but it felt like one of the moments in life where you could just stop and live forever.

I account this story not to brag, though I do have some of the best friends and family around, and not only to remember but to encourage. I was never more aware than last night that God knows us intimately and has designed us to be in relationship with Him and with each other. My true hope and wish as I blew out my candle on my 28th birthday was that all people can feel the kind of love I felt last night as well as the love that continues to grow in the day in and day out of being a wife and a mother. On the flip side of that same coin, if your life doesn't facilitate these amazing circumstances, and I pray it will at least once or twice, God is sufficient. He can be the husband the father and the life of the party in the quiet of your very own heart.

My hearts waking prayer this morning that arose without my summoning was, "let it be according to Your will". My heart is more inclined to be at rest with God at the helm with each passing year. With that in mind I can't wait to be get older.

Thank you to all you who took time out of your lives to make this day such a special celebration. I look forward to watching how God will continue to use all of us to grow and love one another.

The Difference 6 Months makes

I am so in awe at the speed in which my daughter is learning. From June until now she has learned to walk, run, speak, follow directions, show compassion, laugh at something humorous, make her desires known, twist a cap, drink from a straw a cup a bottle, and she knows her colors (mostly). She is a sponge and a parrot.
When she arrived back from her 7 day "vacation" my eyes were opened afresh to her amazing abilities. She looked older to me after just a week and knew words that she hadn't left knowing. The newest thing she has learned is how to express gratitude, "shankchu". She is constantly telling me what color things are even if it isn't always quite right. Her heart is full of compassion; furrowing her brow and pursing her lips to say "awwww" when she hears a baby cry or if someone has a "boo-boo". She was carrying a figurine of a little boy the other day and accidentally dropped it and his head fell off. She was so concerned patting the headless body against her chest saying, "Awww baby". Even after I put it away for days she kept saying, "Aww baby". I had to super glue his head back on just to put her heart at ease.
I love seeing her personality emerge and know, in part she learns from us, but there is a divinely written script of her very own already written on her heart. She loves to give hugs and kisses. She squeezes me tight and gives me a little grunt to let me know she loves me. She still loves nay needs to be holding my finger and digging her little nail under mine any time she is relaxing, watching t.v., riding in the car, falling asleep. She loves physical touch.
It seems miraculous to me that only 18 short months ago she was still taking residence in my very own body. Even more so that 9 months before that we knew nothing of her existence. I am grateful for the honor of being a parent and the lessons I learn daily and the weaknesses it highlights in my own character and the deep desire it ignites in me to live a simpler life.

I love that the explosion of development in such a short time reminds me that life could be entirely different in only six short months. A hug and a smile can change the climate of an entire room. When you fail or don't get things quite right, you should still keep trying. Learning is critical to living a full life and keep moving forward.

I want to remember these times and remind myself of the childlike nature that is in me. I want to savor these sweet moments so if a tougher time comes, I can pull these memories out of my pocket and carry on with a secret grin despite of teenage angst. As life constantly changes and I remain unable to see the future,   I want to remember the vast difference only a short few months can make and be grateful that His mercies are new every morning.

Back to the Basics

I, like many, love the New Year. I love a fresh start. I like a spring clean. I secretly like Mondays.

This year as I rang in the new year by myself and baby free, I got some rare moments of complete silence and nothing to do. Before I could get too far in my list making and goal setting, I felt that still small voice whisper, get back to the basics. This past year felt like a bit of a holding pattern. Although there was much change with becoming parents, I feel like I was just winging it most of the time, and circling around the same mountain over and over. This year not being as much of a novice mom, I am ready to be more intentional. This year marking a decade of being a Christian, I am finally coming to the end of myself and beginning to understand, John 15:5 "I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing."
I am all too often tossed on the wind of doubt and indecision described in James 1:6, "But when he asks, he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind."   instead of residing in the place of peace beside sill waters.
I know I will not master this in a year nor a life time but I am resolved to begin by knowing the text I proclaim to believe and follow, and therefore the One who wrote it.
My tangible plan is to read the Bible in a year. Admittedly I have tried to do this many time before and therefore have read Genesis, Exodus, and Leviticus many many times. This year I pray my results are different and daily ask for help in not only the completion of the task but a joy in doing it.

Also in the spirit of discipline and getting back to the basics, I have decided to try and do something "physical" everyday. Even if it is only 10 push ups, a brisk walk, or a full on work out. With a complete understanding of my limited time and usual lack of motivation, I recognize something is better than nothing. Hopefully the little bit will turn into a little bit more and eventually a happy, healthy, habit. I want to be alive and mobile and healthy when I am a grand mother and a great grand mother, God willing.

In an effort to set myself up for success, I am fasting television for 30 days, to maximize my free time. I am also listening to only Christian music for 30 days to constantly remind my soul to worship and hunger for the Truth.

And if in 9 days I am already off track, I am grateful God gave me another new beginning unique to me. My 28th year surely will be a year of new beginnings.

A hole in my heart

My sweet Simone has gone to visit her paternal family in Florida for SEVEN days WITHOUT me. The visit fell shortly after Christmas and over the new year which is always a very sentimental and reflective time for me anyways. My little one leaving on her first plane ride has compounded that emotion.

I awoke on the 29th of December at 5am to stare at her and try to burn the memory of her little toes and pursed lips letting the slight breath in and out, in and out. I am keenly aware that becoming a parent has gouged a huge hole in my heart. A hole that only the tiny voice, the little giggle, the sweet cuddles can fill. I feel immediate terror and physical pain at the thought of losing her or failing her. All of this is magnified by the fact that her life will be out of my hands for an entire week.

As I lay in my bed the night before sobbing about the possibilities of things going wrong, I am sweetly reminded by God, that life is always really out of my hands. Though this reminder is really not all that comforting to a control freak. I know He hears my heart but I form words in my mind like, "That is one thing I can't handle, please don't test my threshold, I won't know how to live without her." As the fears reel in my mind I am also confronted with a sadness for my lack of faith and understanding of eternity. I had a good hard sob, and because this occurred while having a chest cold I also had a long coughing spell.

The morning came and I was distracted by lists of what to remember and trying to be to the airport on time. Then I played with my girl in the airport trying to create mental pictures to tide me over. Reminding myself it is only seven days, which is nothing in the big scheme of things. Then boarding time came and the hand off to Grandpa and CeCe. I was holding it all together until I saw my little girls brow furrow in confusion as to why we were waving her good bye. Then I turned away because I couldn't hold it in any longer, the tears came uninvited again.

I demanded to be taken to Waffletown to drown my sorrows in belgian waffles and syrup. I tried to think of all the things I could do while I was "free". I went to the mall, I got a manicure and pedicure, I went out to dinner with friends with no regard to time, I stayed up late and slept in, I took a nice long hot bath. Though all of this was pleasant, I am forever changed by the joy that being a mother brings. I would forego endless time to myself for the love of my daughter.

Then  New Years Eve came around with all its nostalgia and hope for a fresh start and I found myself alone. Again I felt the tears threatening to make an appearance and as in all times of deep need, I turned to God for comfort. I was deeply shaken by my need for my family. I know it is a good thing on one hand but I also know that God intends to be my foundation and my all.
"Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." (Matt. 10:37) I have deeply struggled with scripture of this nature. As I meditated on the heart of the text, I saw the word single-mindedness. God's commands come out of a place of love and a desire for our highest good. I cannot even begin to unveil the entire truth of the perfection of the good order of "seeking first the Kingdom of God". So, I searched my heart and cried out for a a new desperation for my Lord and the wisdom to hold my most precious gifts with an open hand. I prayed for the strength of heart to say in my darkest hour, "Though He slay me, yet I will praise Him."

I don't know what this life holds or how long it will last, but my resolution for this year, once again, is to know the Word that God has given. I want to tattoo His promises on my heart so that when all is stripped away, praise will still be my response. I am shoring up my heart this year with the wisdom of God to sleep more peacefully, give more freely, and love without restraint. I resolve to be found waiting on my master even in the third watch of the night. I am thankful that my determination will be met by the strength of the Holy Spirit to finish the good work that He has started in me.

To Conceive or not to Conceive? That is the question

We have always had a loose plan to start trying to Beasley baby #2 when Simone turned 2. That is 6 months away and I, being the planner that I am, broached the subject with my husband yesterday. I have been thinking about it on my own for a while now, oscillating between pure mommy gush

and utter terror at the thought of being pregnant again.

 I have made mental lists of the things we should accomplish before bringing another life into this world ...

• buy a house (with more than 2 rooms)
• lose 30 pounds
• get Simone potty trained
• find Daniel a job that pays enough that I can stay home
• take my prenatal vitamin

Then mentally scratched them all out saying, "There will never be a perfect time, or enough money, etc."

I have read accounts of the pros and cons of different age gaps, I have tried to map out our career goals, our financial status, factored in my biological clock, and I am still no closer to having peace about when the right time is. Then I have nights like last night when I am feeling sick and PMSing and my 18 month old wakes up 23 hundred times because she isn't feeling well either, in those moments I am sure I only want one child.

It really was beginning to get me flustered and I had to stop myself and remind my pacing heart that God knows. I found myself half heart-idly praying for God to surprise me with the next child as He did my first that way I don't have to worry about it (I am not sure if that is sound biblical praying but hey I am at my wits end).

I would appreciate your prayers because I don't want to make a decision in my own strength. I don't want to rush into pregnancy again just to meet some imaginary deadline and put my family in a tough spot. Neither do I want to miss the chance to have #2 because I fear there will never be enough time, money, energy, etc. I need the wisdom and provision of my Father in Heaven and the patience to wait until it comes.

I would like to hear other moms child bearing decision making tactics in the meantime, so give me so feedback. Did you plan, were you pleasantly surprised, are you wishing you were still single, are you sure you aren't going to make it through the next five years of diapers? Let me know.

Be still and know

I am growing older every day, every moment. I am reminded from the Word, that my best days are yet to come; a difficult concept to grasp. Milestones are passing at an alarming rate; firsts that I can never get back. I do know that I have gained more wisdom, perspective, and compassion with age. As my body continues to decline my mind is being refined, transformed even.  I can only imagine that my pride will continue to die with the passing days. Life has a way of knocking you down to size. I want to be careful to walk the line between defeat and humility. I am glad to know I know nothing. I hope never to say I can do nothing, for I have been justified by his grace, that I may become an heir having the hope of eternal life. I want to always walk toward my full potential imprinted on me by my Creator and live content with my present circumstances for this is the will of God. A delicate balance, I am sure of it.

For now, in this season, I am aiming to glorify God in the everyday; holding babies, cooking dinner, filing papers, changing diapers, loving my husband, cleaning the house, eating healthy, smiling at a stranger, praying for others, doing good, sharing, giving baths, folding laundry... do it all to the glory of God.

Help me with this Lord. In the season of no titles, little recognition, and not a ton of excitement, let my life be a sweet fragrance to you. As my days pass me by let my mind grasp my purpose is not to glorify myself but to glorify you. I still want to shine bright, but I want to shine bright with the beauty of my Lord. I desire your Spirit within me to be so strong and overwhelming it seeps out of my pores to change the climate of the room, the city, the nation, the world I live in. I want your banner of love over me to reach a thousand miles long and wide to envelope the surrounding people with an invitation to your banqueting table. I want deep wells of peace and love to share with a broken and violent world. Let the days that lie ahead, however few or many they may be, increase in the power of Love. Today in this moment I fall so short and need your help. I am willing. Use my hands and feet as your own. Sing through my lips the love songs of old, the One that you sang before the foundations of time. Never leave me empty for I do not draw on strength of my own but from living waters in the deep mystery of Your heart.

Be still and know.

International Husband Appreciation Day (so what if I made it up)

I love my husband so much that I had to write a post to get down all the things I am grateful for on a daily basis. I think there should be an international holiday celebrating great husbands. So, I am declaring today...

INTERNATION HUSBAND APPRECIATION DAY

Growing up in a single mother household, I don't have the experience to draw from of what a partnership in marriage really should look like. Because of this I am both equally amazed every day at how much I need my husband, and how my mother raised two children on her own without going crazy.



Daniel Allen Beasley is the answer to prayers of deep that never made it out of my heart to be formed on my lips. My husband is the daily tool God uses to love, bless, grow, and heal me. We have an unconventional love story (that I will save for another post) and I always have thought of him as my diamond in the rough. What I didn't, and still don't fully comprehend, is how big and shiny that diamond is. Every day I am discovering more deeply the mystery of marriage and the salve it is to my broken soul. He is patient and steady, loyal and trustworthy. I, for the first time in my life, know what it is to be myself completely, and be loved without restraint. I finally understand that when tough times come and bad things happen, I don't have to brace myself for the bottom to drop out. I have a committed husband who understands the solemn vowes we took on May 17, 2009 are for life and are before God. I have no problem trusting my complete heart in his capable hands. We make mistakes, we fight, we get on each others nerves but that is the complicated beauty of love. I know at the end of the day he will remain faithful.

As if the love between us wasn't enough, God gives us the ability to multiply our love with a child. Adding loving father to his resume, has made the love deeper and wider. There is the obvious reminder of a physical manifestation of the your love combined into one being but more importantly it is the partnership it takes to keep that being alive. If it weren't for Daniel, I don't know that I would ever eat a cooked meal. I think the house would remain a mess, and I would not be able to be the mother I am. He provides relief, strength, comfort, back rubs, ego boosts, unconditional love, a reflection of the Father in Heaven, and hot breakfasts. I am bursting at the seams of my heart at the love that not only I get to experience, but the inheritance my growing family will have because of my husband's Godly character. If I never had the chance to experience another physical blessing this side of Heaven, my cup would remain full and overflowing. Selfless love multiplies itself and is an ever burning flame to heat the home of your heart.   



I know the deep working magic of marriage is the distinct reflection it has of my coming husband in Heaven and the hope that it will be immeasurably better. I know "that we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face" 1 Corinthians 13:12. But I am so grateful that Jesus saw fit to give me a taste of what is to come. I am blessed to know He is using Daniel to prepare my heart to "know just as I am known" 1 Corinthians 13:13, by my eternal bridegroom. 



The best two affirmative decisions I ever made, was to say yes to Jesus and yes to my husband. 

Daniel, I wouldn't change a thing, you are my perfect gift from God. Thank you for loving me.  

Ladies, whilst this was a gushy post and mostly for the benefit of my husband, I encourage you to take time a look around at the love you have been gifted with. Also remember when you see a momma struggling on her own, lend a helping hand, an encouraging word, and a prayer. Single moms remember there is faithful husband always available to you in Jesus and He will demonstrate His love for you through His body. Isaiah 62:5 " as the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you."

Content

For as long as I can remember, I have been wishing and hoping for something else. Waiting for the next season, complaining about my current circumstances.

Today and for the last little while I have experienced a miraculous shift in perspective. I am at peace mostly. I am delighted with my little family, grateful for my job, reveling in simple pleasures, blessed with blossoming friendships and the ability to appreciate them. The amazing thing is that my circumstances havne't really changed all that much. It must be the wisdom that comes with age, and probably a lot to do with a faithful Father, but I am content for I think the first time in my life.

Don't get me wrong, I still lose my patience, wish for things that I don't have, and feel blue sometimes but none of these feelings send me into the depths or blind my vision to the blessings in front of me anymore. It is like I have a sweet little optimistic friend around all the time reminding me of how things could be worse, or how short life is, or how all the things I ever prayed for that mattered at all are all under one roof snuggled under covers available for me to love at a moments notice. I am living with a Holy Polyanna in my mind. It is a wonderful turn of events after a life of pessimism, melancholy, and skepticism.

God is faithful! All these years I justified my bad attitude and glass half empty perspective as just "how I am", accepting it as a part of my personality and therefore something I could not change. Even after having been a Christian for some years now, this is something I justified as, " how God made me". Not so, not anymore. A switch has gone off in my head, I am sure due to many friends and family praying over me for years, years of reading the same promises in the Word over and over, and ultimately the faithfulness of God.
Part of me wants to list all of the things I still struggle with and am afraid can't change but that is just the old man slowly dying in the corner of the room. Instead I will revel in this victory and use it as proof to my soul that all the things I presently struggle with are just on the same slow walk down death row.

To Love is To Be Vulnerable

I can't remember what it felt like to be pregnant. I do remember how different I felt, what a process it was, but I can't remember the sensation. I can't remember what Simone felt like as a newborn. They tell you you will forget. I guess I didn't think I would. I have.

Having a child makes me sharply aware of time. Each day is a milestone, each moment passes never to be remembered in the fullness it was experienced.
My girl is walking and talking, developing a personality, and a will. It was only 15 short months ago she was taking residence in my own body. I wonder, when I am close enough to see the snowflake shape in the center of her blue eyes, what she will look like when she is older and who she will become. I wonder what trials we will go through and if she will ever tell me she hates me. I pray and wonder if she will care to serve the God I serve.

 Parenthood is a strange and wonderful thing. I am so aware of the vulnerable condition having her has put my heart in. I have to quickly push away the tightness in my chest at the thought of ever losing her  figuratively or literally. I have to fight the tears at the reality that one day, she won't want me to hold her all the time or kiss her all over. I take pictures and write memories and try to burn the experience in my mind but I know time will pass and memories will fade. I am grateful for these thoughts, as painful as they can be, because they give me the pause I need to be more intentional. These realities get me on the floor to play more, postpone the house work a little longer, walk at a snails pace to watch my not yet two foot tall daughter discover the world from a different perspective.
I agree with C.S. Lewis when he said, "To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."
I am grateful for the vulnerability of love and the opposing depths that vulnerability provides.