When Anxiety is Debilitating

The feeling begins in my chest. Its a tightness that doesn't go away. Its an over-analyzing of every word, look, action, post, etc. Its a feeling of "I am not enough" or "I am too much". Its a feeling of "I'll never be..." or "I should have never..." or "I never could.." Its as big as "I will never make them happy like someone else could" or as small as "This house will always be a mess."

However big or small you've experienced this battle, its awful when the fight is on. The past few days I've felt it intensely. Whether its hormones, stress, or just anxiety of the upcoming holiday's that always seems to set it: Its been real. From, not feeling like a good mom/wife/friend/daughter/sister to wanting to cry thinking of all the household projects needing to be done, I woke up at 430 am wide awake and could not keep my thoughts straight. I've been trying so hard to be what God wants me to be as a mom/wife/sister/friend/daughter that I was frustrated and felt not enough. I was even struggling with how I don't love my dogs enough. The dogs, people. The dogs who are completely happy with me throwing a disgusting bone for two seconds everyday.

Instead of lying there miserable, I got up, prayed, and got in the Word. I, then, began reading a book on my POSITIVE reading list. I began filling myself with things that brought  peace as opposed to fueled that fear flame inside. And, eventually a light began to shine. I became intentional about not going down this rabbit hole.

I also, decided to be transparent. God doesn't make waste and even (especially) our struggles can be made into something GOOD. I think we like to paint this picture of peace and harmony. We even paint our struggles into neat pictures. When in reality they're messy and they don't get fixed right away and neither do our hearts. My anxiety is still there. Yes, His perfect peace surpasses understanding, but that peace doesn't always look nice and neat. I've struggled with anxiety my whole life, but I have grown because of it.

Instead of obsessive worrying I've been given truths to lean on. Here's two quotes from my 430 am devotional time:

John 6: 37 ^"All those the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never drive away."

I can come to him with any worry, fear, need and he will listen. He will hear my heart and will guide me. Whether its through his correction or encouragement, he will lead me. I know he will never turn me away and I will never be too much or not enough for him.

"I do not fear opinion, gossip, or the idle chatter of  monkeys, for they are the same to me," Andy Andrews

Yes. I needed to hear this. It should not matter to me one bit how others view my life, my choices, or my family.

 

A slow revival has been happening in my soul for the past few years. When I was younger I always thought I would travel the world, have an exciting job, and lead a life of freedom and adventure. I would have thought I would have been free of tethers and responsibilities beyond what country to visit next. Yet, here I am a stay at home mom, within 30 miles from where I was born, contemplating and praying for child number two.

Oddly, being a mother has been more of an adventure to me than traveling the world. It is something I never thought I truly wanted or would ever have. A family, little people with my genes, these were things I thought unobtainable for me growing up. So the reality of this life in my lap is more astounding than hiking the Swiss alps or walking the busy streets of Hong Kong.

My heart sometimes pangs for the life of freedom and occasionally I wonder what life outside of marriage and motherhood would have looked like for me. But, mostly I'm in awe of the face that looks back at mine when I go into the nursery to pick up my son from his crib. I see beautiful, almond-shaped eyes looking deep into mine. I am in awe that I created those eyes within my body and they hold pieces of me speckled in the deep blue. Adventure is seen within the way he bravely tackles all of life. He has such an intense sense of curiosity and exploration that I wonder if all of my wanderlust was transferred into his tiny frame as he was knit in my womb.

Needing to see and do the next, exciting thing has been replaced with the need to create more life for my family. What will his sibling be like? Will he or she have the same intensity or will they be a calm, cool water next to my little storm? Is it possible that I would be allowed to have more than one miracle that is a child?

God hasn't changed my adventurer's heart. He has merely changed its course and focus. He has created me to be a nurturer to an adventurer and what better person to do so than someone who knows and understands the pull and tug that will dictate my son's steps? What better heart to guide Grayson's wild spirit than one with an equally unrestrained nature? Who better to know how to be the calm to his chaos than someone who navigates her own turbulent seas?

I have, at times, felt "less than" compared to the cookie cutter women who've always wanted to be mothers and stay at home moms. I have been told "You have my dream life," as if this life I've fallen into couldn't be something my heart could also desire. As if they will be better mothers because their hearts have always wanted it. I am working on letting these people go. I'm learning to not let it bother me the knowing they think they will do it better and different because of who they are and who they think I am not.

They are right in some ways: I don't deserve this life. But, neither do they. You see the life we are given is a gift from God. And it is not for anyone to say "I deserve this or that." That type of self-righteousness will land you in a pile of bitterness and lose you many friends.

So, this tattooed, reformed rebel doesn't deserve the stay at home mom life. But neither does the crafty, Susie homemaker. And I am, for the first time, stepping fully into the role of mom and not being hindered by who I thought I would be or who others think I am not.

There's a new life of adventure ahead of me and I am neither tethered or held down by my family. No, for the first time I am free.

I am free because of them.

I've posted before about how breastfeeding is a hot topic. I have both ends of the spectrum in my life and I would like to think I fall somewhere in the middle. I've had equal amount of people appalled that I supplemented and those that cannot believe I am still feeding with no real intention of stopping right at a year.

I guess my stance is this: Do what is best for you and your family.

When I was pregnant, our family made the choice for me to stay at home. We are blessed but losing my salary hit us hard and breastfeeding was free. There was no deep, idealized picture in my head. Simply something I hoped I could do to help my family financially.

For the first 3-4 mos I suffered clogged ducts, infections, and mastitis. My only goal was to make it six months. This seemed less possible when I had to supplement after a particularly nasty bout of mastitis. I was one of the unlucky few who have a decrease in milk supply as a result. My husband and I made a choice to supplement. This choice was made after days and days of a hungry, screaming child, a crying, helpless mama and a frustrated Daddy. I went to the store and cried as I grabbed the formula, and felt ashamed as I checked out.

*Let me pause here. If I could go back in time, I would grab that tired, weary mama's face and tell her the following: "You have braved sickness and pain to feed your baby. You are doing the right thing right now. Hold your head high and never, ever feel guilty or ashamed for doing what's best for your child." If you have ever shamed a mama for buying formula to supplement or a mama who chose to formula feed, or simply introduced a bottle soon so that Daddy could feed baby,: you should be ashamed of yourself. Ashamed. *

From 6 mos- the present I have still battled clogged ducts here and there, but feeding has become second nature to me. We still have the formula for overnight stays with auntie or grandparents, but very rarely use it at home. We have a beautiful rhythm that has ebbs and flows just as anything else in life. However, as the year approaches I find myself receiving the question more and more: Aren't you going to wean soon? And, so another round of shaming and judgement ensues.

*Let me pause here. Since I am not the girl in the aisle, cowering because she feels like a failure having to buy formula, I can say with confidence: I will wean when I damn well feel it is best for my child. Yes, it's emotional comfort for both baby and me. However, it's also still beneficial health wise (http://www.lalecheleague.org/llleaderweb/lv/lvdec00jan01p112.html......if you don't believe me). And for my child and me it's what is right. Now, my baby may or may not need to go much past a year. Your family may have stopped for ANY of MANY reasons: AND THATS OKAY.

My son won't care how long he was breastfeed (he'd probably rather not think of his mom's boobs for any reason) and I really don't want him to care. However, I want to give him the example that I confidently and bravely did what was best for him and for my family. That's what you should want to teach your children.

So, pregnant mamas, do what's best for you. You will know in your gut. And, if anyone tries to guilt you, scare you, or shame you, they are self-conscious about their own choices of how they are raising or raised their kids and need to validate themselves by controlling you.

Buy that formula, confidently.
Nurse that babe, confidently.
Wean at 3, 6, 10 mos or 2 years, confidently.

Be a fierce Mama-bear who does what's right for her family no matter what.

PS: To all the shamers out there  (on either end of the spectrum) :🖕🏻

I had a wonderful conversation with a friend. She's an expert in hardships, unfortunately. She made the statement to me that I may never be as I was before my trials as of late...and that's okay.

It got my mind thinking. After my hard times, a period of healing has happened and during that period I have thought I will never be whole. But what if I am confusing "wholeness" to just a new version of me that's been shaped by difficulty?

For instance, a piece of my struggle-bus pie would be physical difficulties in the past two years. From mini-stroke, pregnancy, to postpartum recovery sometimes I feel I'm different than I used to be. Of course I am! But, if I look at my performance in the gym, ability to carry a 20+ lbs baby and groceries, and function on little to no sleep and function well...I wouldn't say it's a bad different! In many ways I'm able to push through what I used to think I never could. And, in many ways I've become okay with shortcomings that I used to be embarrassed by.

Another piece of the pie would be mental and emotional differences. The combination of life events have made me face issues that I never thought I would be able to do. I found my ability to forgive, my ability to push forward and change in spite of heartache. But, they've also taught me sometimes you have to put your own heart on the back burner. Your own desires and dreams may change: whether it's your choice or not. You have to learn to be okay with it. And, in this putting aside feelings and emotions (that generally can't be trusted) sometimes you see goals and dreams that are far more fulfilling that what you initially thought. I'm learning life doesn't stop because you're hurting. And, the best way to heal that hurt is to move along with the flow of life. Staying stuck only makes the hurt bigger.

So....emotionally I'm actually more stable and "better" than before (minus the hormones that children create in mamas).

I read this verse in a devotional I get via email:

2 Corinthians 4:8-9 We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed—

It's a fairly common verse, but one that was always seemed trite to me. However, there's nothing trite about the Bible. God is very purposeful in every Word He brings us. The verse was affirmation of what I was thinking about being different post-trial. We will not be completely "the old us" and we shouldn't want to. If we simply became what we used to be, the hard time would be useless. Nothing makes difficulties even more heartbreaking than knowing they are pointless.

My whole, rambling point: We are different and may never be the same after hardships. But, that's not necessarily a bad thing and sometimes is exactly what we need.

In the past few nights that we've really allowed Grayson to put himself to sleep....I've suffered from sleeplessness. I am wide awake after I hear Grayson moving. And, after he puts himself back to sleep in 10 minutes or less, I lay there for two or three hours. I toss and turn and become angry. The I-can't-sleep-irrational-anger that occasionally can bring you to tears.

I racked my brain for things I was eating or drinking or doing that could cause this and came up empty. Then, with a wave of tears, it hit me at 4 am this morning: I miss Grayson. Almost every morning (I use the word "morning" loosely) since he entered the world he has come to our bed.
Right or wrong, judge that if you will, I've snuggled with a little boy for almost 10 mos now.

I miss him. I miss his little head nuzzling against me or his little feet kicking Daddy. I miss his tiny fingers, kneading my arm as he snores. I miss kissing his sweet cheeks as I roll over. I miss him. As I said it out loud, in a whisper, in our dark house, I cried. I sobbed.

I didn't realize I missed it. I thought I wanted my own space. I needed to not have someone on top of me 24/7. My husband and I needed our own space. But, now the mama needs sleep-training. Now she needs to learn how to self-soothe. The babe is better at this than she.

I wish when people told me over and over "you'll miss this," I would have listened. When I complained my body hurt from sleeping in the bizarre positions you do with a babe next to you, I never thought I would miss it. When I complained that I couldn't sleep good enough with babe in the bed, I never thought I would be completely sleepless without him. I hope that in moments when it seems hard and awful, I think "Savor the hard. That's where moments worth remembering are made."

Sleep tight, little man. You are already braver and more independent than your mama.

One-upper

One-uppers.

Some of us are them. Some of us know them. We have all done it at least once in our lives. I've been asking God to help me sort out things about myself that are not conducive to having people enjoy being around you. This popped up as I was having a conversation. I thought to myself: "NO! I'm a one upper!!!!" You see, no one wants to be a one-upper. We love to call them out and expose them for  what they are.....but we never want to be one.

Needless to say I was wrought with confusion of how I could have allowed this to happen. Immediately self-conscious in every conversation I had, I decided to pick apart the anatomy of a one-upper. Why I one-up comes down to two reasons: I think you're a know-it-all and so I must show you that you don't....in turn becoming a know-it-all (generally this is a trait that comes hand in hand with a one-upper OR I am genuinely trying to make conversation and not trying to one-up at all only trying to find common ground "oh you kayak? I kayak!" but because of my one-upping tendencies it comes across as, you-guessed it, one upping.

There's also a third reason that most one-uppers share. We all want to be accepted and liked. Sometimes it's just a plain old, schoolyard, I-need-to-be-liked-let-me-share-my-story.

So, now that my "why" has been addressed, how do I fix it? How do I become a better version of myself? God gave me this for a reason.
1) Listen. A one-upper is generally thinking about what they can say next. We are guilty. I need to HEAR what the person is saying, truly digest it, and then reply. My response needs to be based off of what I hear them say and not what I want them to hear me say. Listening isn't about being heard or liked.
2) Be encouraging. If I know I one-up because I want to be liked, then instead of trying to put down a fellow one-upper by outdoing them, I should love on them and encourage them. It's what they need, because I know it's what I need.

Bottom-line: if you feel I'm one-upping, it's either because I truly want to have a conversation with you and like you OR maybe you're a one-upper yourself and you also need to do some soul-searching. Either way, let me know. I'm trying to work on this.

1130 pm, 2 am, 3 am, 330 am, 415 am.....every parent has a night where you look at your clocks and think "How are you not exhausted, kid?" You try nursing, rocking, walking, bottles, gas drops and nothing works. Whether it's mama or daddy, it matters not.

So, you wake up....or just get up starting out tired. You walk into the kitchen and bump the bouncer that your child doesn't tolerate anymore and grab the coffee pot. You pour out day old coffee on top of day old dirty dishes. You hear baby trying to escape the UFC level cage set up in the family room. You grab him and as you think it will be a nice, quiet snuggle-nurse session...you feel poop on your leg.

However, as you walk down the hallway trying not to get your child's stools anymore on you than they already are, you smile. You smile because you're not the person you were before they were here. Your shallow need for perfection, success, and popularity go out the window. There's a liberation from expectations the world gives. Because it doesn't matter what heels you might wear with your new dress if there's poop on your leg.

You corral your human puppy and meander back to the once wonderfully decorated front room. You place your coffee cup next to yesterday's coffee cup on the side table and soak in your insanity. You soak it in because it's the hardest thing you have ever done but also the most awesome. Tears form in your eyes as you look at your beautiful child full of life and of you.

You don't care what others might think if they looked into your messy floors and dirty dishes. You don't care what others might think of your unwaxed eyebrows and  unkept hair (hey, someone wanted this fine body at least once....I got a baby out the deal).

You don't care because the awesomeness of family is far bigger than petty cares.

Yup. And now there's spit up on your foot. So you have to stop writing and get to the mop because some of its on the floor, right next to some dried, old spit up from 3 am......

There is a time in every woman's life when she has had enough. When she is tired of people always taking and hurting. This moment is amplified when she is a mother. In the past 2 1/2 years more people have tried to sabotage my family than I ever thought possible.

Not anymore. Try it. Go ahead I dare you.

I know for some this post may be uncomfortable because it's about boobs. And, not that I think I have a huge reader-base, but I do know some men visit this blog. I am not trying to alienate you and I would actually encourage you to read on to hear about the trials women go through when caring for the fruit of your loins.

We are going to talk about the way boobs give life and how it can be difficult for some.

When I was pregnant I had visions of breastfeeding my child in the sunshine with smiles and butterflies and happiness. I was not prepared for the two boulders that would be my boobs when my milk came in. I'm sure Luke wishes he was prepared for the urgency of which I shouted at him to put together the breast pump at 3 am and for the terrifying, unattractive sight of my engorged milk-taps.

I was also not prepared for clogged ducts, milk blisters and mastitis. For those that have never experienced any of those: they're awful.

1. Clogged ducts: the milk keeps making but there's a....wait for it....clog in the system and so it backs up and backs up and backs up.

2. Milk blisters: a blister on the tip of your nipple that must be popped in order for milk to come out.

3. Mastitis: a feverish infection of the boobs that makes you want to die.

Some experience one or two or three or none of these wonderful experiences. I've been lucky enough to get the trifecta. It's been hard and it's been painful. But sustaining life can't be for the faint of heart.

And, after its all said and done: it's been worth it. I would do it all again.

The tears, the awkward nursing places, the pain....it's all been worth it to me. Some of my reasons are superficial: breastfeeding helps you lose baby weight and it saves a lot of money. Some are medical: BF lowers your risk of bleeding after birth. Some are for the short term benefits for him (I'm not sold on the research that studies the impact 5-10 years out): better immune system.

And, yes, some are emotional. I thought I'd be super bothered by having something need only me and it was overwhelming on the beginning. But, the connection I have with my babe is something I've never felt before and the times when my infections brought me to the point of maybe giving it up I was devastated. I love spending that precious time with my little boy. Whether it's slowing down for an few minutes during a busy day or in the silence of a sleepless night those feedings I cherish. They rejuvenate the both of us.

I'll let you in on a little secret. Many times when Luke takes my milk from the freezer or sees me pump he says "I still can't believe your body creates this for Little Man. It's unreal and awesome."

Damn right it is.

So, even if it's hard try it. It's worth pushing through.

And, if you can't or decide you don't want to, that's fine. Upon my study of human beings in general, intelligence is predetermined by raising and personality. I'm pretty sure breastmilk is not a factor. I myself was formula fed and feel quite certain I'm smarter than some breastfed people. But, I will ask you formula feeders not to judge us just as you ask us not to judge you.

The past week has not been an easy one in the sleep department. Babies with snotty noses are not good sleepers. Poor G has been on top of Luke or me every night. I could complain, but I won't.

When I heard his cries and sniffles, I walked into his nursery and softened when his pudgy hands reached for me and his cries silenced as he put his head on my shoulder. My wild man very rarely snuggles so I enjoyed the affection from nursery to bedroom. As I laid with my boy finally sleeping next to me (one, tiny foot pressed against my leg just so he was sure I wouldn't leave him) I cried. I sobbed thinking of the beauty we miss because it's cloaked in sleeplessness and difficulties. I thought of how that exact instant where father and son were sleeping with snores in unison, the house was silent and I was allowed to just soak in the beauty will one day be a precious memory and not a burden. Yes, we all sleep better when little man is in his own bed snoozing without phlegm getting in the way, but good nights get lost in our memory-banks.

I'm not saying that every hard moment is easy to enjoy. There's plenty of nights when I've begged God to let the babe sleep or I've out and out cried out of frustration. Exhaustion is no joke. But I do know that for every difficult moment there's a person that would love to have that "burden". There's a mama who would love to hold her baby boy one more time. She longs to be cried out for in the night. There's a woman who just wants the chance to be someone's mama and would give anything to have someone need her in the night.

My cousin and her husband lost their little boy a month ago. Perhaps it's this tragedy that makes me give thanks, even in the dirty parts of momhood. I can't imagine their loss. But, I am so proud of them for making good out of darkness and for allowing their bright light of a child to have a legacy of good. Sweet Riley will be remembered for his foundation and not his tragedy. Visit their Facebook page and join the cause: /RileysRainbows/

The word "success" has been thrown around in my world the past few weeks. I've decided it's one of the most relative terms in the English language.

Success can be measured in different ways within your own life. Some day success is as big as giving birth to a baby and others as small as brushing your teeth before noon. Maybe graduating with your masters is a success but getting to graduation on time is also a victory. Perhaps quitting your job is viewed a success on one day and a failure on others.

Bottom line: we can't base our worth on whether or not others or we think we are successful because it's as changing as my kids diapers.

On my first Mother's Day I have a new appreciation for my own mother. I know why those teenage fights were so heated. I can only imagine that when the same babe you sacrificed so much for rebels it creates hurt and anger that can only come from intense love. I also know that the power struggles were never her not wanting me to leave the nest, but her wanting me not to fly into the wrong direction.

As I look at my baby I realize my mama held me with the same love. I finally understand that when she says I'm her baby girl how much passion and heart are behind those words. I understand how hard it is to love a child because of that passion. I understand how hard it is to walk in this ugly world and know you have to prepare your child for what it has to offer.

Mama taught me to take care of myself. She prepared me for this world in all the best ways she knew how. When I thought other kids were spoiled and I wasn't, I see I was the one truly being showered with love. Whether it was having to choose an extracurricular activity or a job with no option to loaf around, requiring me to cook dinner every once in awhile, or having actual chores that extended beyond making a bed, she prepared me to be on my own. She knew that life was hard and she knew shielding me from it would only result in it eating me alive.

She taught me I was entitled to nothing. That the only life I deserved was one God gifted me and I worked for. She gave me a distaste for spoiled children and I have no desire to ruin Grayson as a result.

She taught me to not whine and complain when I didn't get something I thought I deserved. Life isn't fair. All you can do is deal with it gracefully and move on.

The most important thing she taught me is your children come first. I watched her weather storms of her own heart alone and in the quiet of post-bedtime routines. I heard the muffled sobs at night, but only saw the smiles at breakfast. She healed while guarding her kids from her own hurt.

I love her most for that.

She taught me to be brash and fierce but also to be humble and to make decisions that are best for the family and not just for yourself. She taught me to be a mama bear who stands for her kids and dares anyone to harm them while teaching them to defend themselves. She taught me to fight my own battles while knowing she was a step away from joining the fight.

Happy Mother's Day, Mama. I know now what a wonderful, impossibly hard job it is. Thank you. I'm glad God gave me to you and no one else.

I find myself bombarded with opinions and viewpoints and beliefs. Whether it's about Beyoncé's "Lemonade", the article about women needing a "MEternity", or the election someone has something to say.

Now you may expect me to say: we need to put aside our beliefs and just move on. But, I'm not.

I've got too many opinions to keep them
to myself and Google gives me access to a place where I can voice them FO FREE.

Move on or read on. The choice is yours.

1. Beyoncé's lemonade
I like that the ol girl is mad/strong/independent, yet forgiving. And, she is clearly still married to and making millions with her husband. People can be idiots and sometimes moving on (or crushing them) is the answer, but sometimes keeping your family together is more important. Plus, she's Bey and she can do whatever she wants. I wish I could smash things and threaten people without being arrested. Oh and also have an on point outfit and look hot while doing it.

2. MEternity
Stop it. MAternity is 6 weeks of literal physical healing from a major medical event. It's a magical time, but it also sucks.  Getting to know little man was awesome but walking around with ice packs in my underwear and on my engorged chest was only the tip of the discomfort iceberg. Now, granted, I was unaware of the magnitude of healing came after childbirth until after going through it. HOWEVER, were I to write a book about something I had never experienced....I would have done extensive research.

3. The election.
Maybe the end of times really is sooner than anticipated........

I've got a sleeping baby on my lap, a list of law schools and my LSAT score on my lap top, bible verses sticky noted to my coffee table and a goal for my next tattoo. I am realizing I don't fit into a mold. I am not just a stay at home mom and housewife. I am not just a career-driven woman. I am a Christian and God has changed me, but He still created me to be me.

This is what I want for Grayson. I want him to know that you don't have to,probably won't and shouldn't fit perfectly into an already created mold. People's perceptions of who you ought to be are not what I want him to base his value. What if he wants to be a doctor who uses his money to fund orphanages and live in poverty? So be it. What if he wants to be a pastor who also owns a sky diving company? Go for it. If he wants to be an elementary school teacher and play in a rock band, then I'll be in the front row every show. If he wants to be a full time dad while his wife works, then I'd be happy to do coffee dates with him and my grandkids.

I just want Grayson to know that because you are BLANK doesn't meant you can or cannot BLANK.

I truly want to live this out for him. The transition from teacher to full time mama hasn't been easy. The transition from wild-child to Christ-follower hasn't been a walk in the park either. Some days I stare in the mirror and I don't quite know who I am. Before Grayson has memories that go beyond "Boob means milk" I want him to see a confidence in me that's not based on my job (or lack of one), him, his dad, hobbies, or even my own strength. I want him to see a woman who knows who she is in Christ and is not bound by any social expectation to be a certain way.

I want Grayson to be completely the Grayson God designed him to be and not someone the world has molded.

Following God and accepting His ways and plans is difficult. And when I say "difficult" I would be making a great understatement.

Sometimes it feels downright impossible.

My extended family recently had a tragedy hit that brought us all to our knees, made us hug our little ones tighter, and turn an eye to God with a big question of "Why?" One of my sweet cousins lost her 10 year yesterday. He was fine and then gone.

I know we are to trust God in all things, but I can see how people can stay mad at God for a lifetime. I've watched people ruin their own lives, try to ruin others, and live without care of others or themselves. Why do those people get to wake up everyday and suck while sweet Riley didn't get a chance to even make mistakes?

The Bible answer of "no one deserves this life" and words like "grace and mercy" seem to fall short in answering these questions. Because sometimes it seems some give all while others sacrifice none.

And it's always the good ones that are required to give the most.

So, to those life-wasters and ruiners (who I know snoop this blog) get your act together and be glad I'm not God.

To those who've been asked to give it all and you're on your knees without the energy to even ask why: God does have a plan. It's bigger than our why's and our anger towards Him. But it hurts. I know it hurts. I've been on your side of "why?" and "it's not fair". Hold on sister or brother. Hold on.

After a wonderful week with family I've realized a few things:

1. Even though being a stay at home mom is extremely difficult for me and at times I think I can't handle it: I truly enjoy being with my boy all day long. I love our routine and our little life together. I love how we know each other. I saw that he would look for me when things were overwhelming with activity. He looked as if to say: "Mama, hold me and give me a taste of our quiet."
2. Grayson does awesome with other children. Though he is too young to truly "play" with other kids, he enjoys their movements and their activity. Watching him with other little ones makes me realize I need to find a group for him to be with consistently. I think babes learn from other babes more than they can learn from us in the first few years.
3. Being around other moms makes things easier. Chaos is hard, but chaos with another soldier in the trenches makes it much more bearable if not enjoyable. Having a cup of coffee and cleaning up spit up while laughing with someone is better than going at it alone.
4. Maybe Grayson needs a sibling........maybe. Im not sold on this one, yet.
5. I'm blessed. I couldn't have Grayson without my inlaws. My little boy is a perfect blend of me and them. I've always loved them but seeing them through that lens makes me love and appreciate them even more.

10 years:

We have seen each at our lowest. We have seen each other at our highest. We've loved each other when we were our most unloveable.

We tackled adulthood as two kids. We stumbled, we fell, we each thought about leaving the other behind. However, we didn't. The love that ties us together would only let us go but so far.

We both tried to erase the memory of the other. But we quickly found out that there was not enough whiskey, tequila, or beer to drown away our true loves. We found ourselves in the prodigal son's pigpen, but even there we couldn't shake our hearts' callings.

Those that have attempted to sabotage our lives have quickly seen that they would be a mere shadow compared to the shoes they would have to fill. They've seen that you can't tear apart what was destined to be while we were being knit in our mothers' wombs.

And now the wild-eyed, sideways grin of a boy is a Daddy. A man that is strong and true without the hindrance of vices because the God of Angel armies directs his steps. The wandering, wild heart of a girl is now a Mama. A woman that is wiser and loyal without the doubts and questions of her past because her Deliverer found her and gave her purpose. Two hurricanes collided and have a child who is such a perfect combination of their crazy that only two reformed rebels to reign him in and raise him. But God knew that. That's how he works. He knows the why and how's.

Lucas, our paths were destined to cross and then be intersected for life. You're tattooed on my skin and heart. Because of you I believe in love. I believe in true love. The real kind of true love. The love that is dirty, messy and dangerous. The love that is beautiful, but beautiful like shattered glass shining in the sun. The love that is beautiful because at times it was broken without breaking. True love is loving when it hurts and not just when it feels right. True love is not for the faint of heart. All want it, but not all are willing to go through it. We got it, babe.

The journey of ten years has been adventurous, though not the adventure I had intended upon finding. I hope that these ten years will feel like seconds compared to the decades we have in store for us.

Lately I've asked God in to show me exactly what is in my heart that doesn't belong. It was a loaded invitation but one well worth giving. So far the check list of things I need to fix:

1. My need to compete in a negative way (aka I want to be better than certain people) or take delight when someone I don't like fails.
Philippians 2:3 Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.

Proverbs 24:17-18 Do not gloat when your enemy falls;when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice, or the Lord will see and disapproveand turn his wrath away from them.

2. I am a bossy, know-it-all (if you've ever met anyone in my family you know I get this honestly)
1 Corinthians 8:1b-3 We know that “We all possess knowledge.” But knowledge puffs up while love builds up. Those who think they know something do not yet know as they ought to know. But whoever loves God is known by God.

3. I allow bitterness and unforgiveness to rule my heart.
Matthew 6:14-15 For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.

4. I allow discontent to steal the joy of my present.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

It's funny that He gives pretty cut and dry commands for each area I struggle with. He's good like that. And, the great thing about God is that He only gives us things to change that will help make our lives more fulfilled. He does all things for our good and even the hard things are good things.

Prayers for help in this journey.

What I'd wish I'd known about fitness before motherhood

Over the past week my brother n law visited with his wife and son. Little Casan was born three days before Grayson and it has been awesome to walk through the past year with them.

One thing my pregnancy/mama twin and I spoke about was how much pressure was taken off our shoulders at the gym. We talked about how working out was finally fun, again.

I had to ask myself: Why?

When I was pregnant my focus was just on being healthy and with no specific gain (I was making gainz by growing a human).  I wanted to be fit but safety was paramount. I did not want to injure myself or my child. As a result I worked out with consistency but at a slow and steady pace and no competitive edge.

During my postpartum recovery period my focus has been regaining my strength so I can be an active, healthy mama. But, just like with pregnancy I do not push too hard. A hungry baby cares not about a pulled muscle. I also don't like to gas myself so I lack the energy to keep up with G-monstah the rest of the day.

I wish I had been like this all along. I wish I focused on how fitness can help me enjoy life and make me healthier as opposed to making fitness my life. I now workout so I can keep up with my family. I wish I had this same mentality before Little Man was here. I wish I had the same carefree attitude when trying for a one rep max or when competing in a competition a couple years ago. I would have been healthier and happier.

Crossfit is functional fitness. At its core it's to help you with life and not be your life. Unless you're making it to the games (which it then becomes your job) chill out, relax, and have fun. No one will remember your one rep max but they will remember how well you played ball with them or how you helped them move into their new house. Friends and family won't remember your Fran time but they will remember how fun it was to do the color run with you or how high you could thrown them when they were kids.

Oh, and if they do keep track of scores....they aren't true friends. Get rid of them. Challenge yourself because goals are healthy, but make it a challenge that has potential gains outside the box as well as in the mats.

When I was pregnant I thought by this point I would be an expert.....or at least proficient at motherhood. I'm not and I don't think any mom ever truly feels like a master at the art of mothering. What I have realized, however, is that every mama is different as is every child.

God gave me gifts that I was born with. These gifts were given for many reasons but one of them was to be a mama to Grayson. Which means that I do not need to change myself to be a good mom.

For the past few weeks I found myself unhappy with who I was and my life. It seems silly with all my blessings but I continuously felt as if I were doing it wrong. But, I think the root of my unhappiness as a mama was in that I allowed people to make me feel like the house has to be immaculate because that's my job now as a stay at home mom. That going and doing can only come after the house is perfect and you become a martyr for your child.

I needed to be okay with still not being a baby person even after having a baby. I have maternal instincts. I love my child. I would kill anyone who laid a finger of harm on him and when he hurts I feel like a part of me is being ripped in two. However, I still do not enjoy the baby stage of life. I enjoy my son's life and will reminisce on when he was a babe one day, but I will not wish to be in this stage again. I needed to be okay with still hating being stuck at home. I did not also birth a homebody nature or the urge to clean and organize. The independent, adventurer who hates to be at home is still in me.

And this is okay.

I was chosen as Grayson's mama because of who I am and not because of who I think I should be. What if my alert, active boy is an adventurer and needs to go and do? What if sitting at home drives him crazy, too? God gave me Grayson because of the strengths He had already put within me; not bc of new ones I needed to gain.

What if Grayson Wesley is wild at heart like his mama and daddy? Who better to raise and teach a wildman how to live in this world than two reformed rebels?

God makes no mistakes and when He honored me with the privilege of being Grayson's mother He knew who I was and who I wasn't. Grayson could not be placed with better parents.

And mama's if you are the opposite of me: THAT'S FINE. You are who you are for your children.

End.

As I sit here feeding my babe I realize that one day this little guy will be a man. I look at his tiny fingers kneading my shirt and his little toes curling and uncurling as he eats. I wonder where those feet will take him one day and what those hands will do. It's hard to imagine them as big enough to do man's work, but I know all too soon, when I grasp his palm, it will be bigger than mine. 

My prayer for him is not to be happy. I think too many men (and women) fall into a trap of thinking the world owes them happiness or another person's responsible for their happiness. And, so they search and search for this elusive creature breaking their own and other's hearts along the way. 

No, I pray for Grayson to be content with himself (ultimately finding God) and to know that being happy is an emotion and not a goal to bank your life on. I pray he focuses on loving others. I pray he knows that love is work and not to think when happiness is gone so is the responsibility to love a person. I pray in the hard times, which he will have, Luke and I gave him a strong enough foundation that he can always look to our lessons we taught him when his heart is unsure of what to do. I pray he can always find something to be thankful for even when he's at his darkest. 

I pray a FULL life for him. Not a life searching aimlessly for fleeting happiness. I pray for a life full of purposes that are bigger than an egocentric perspective can give. I pray he always has confidence but realizes life is more than about him and his feelings.

I love you Grayson Wesley. More than anything I pray you live the life God has planned for you as His child.