This is what Mom's do....

I wouldn't call myself a helicopter parent.

In fact, I err more on the side of not wanting to upset the team, the school, the professionals, vs. raising cane on behalf of my sons.

I don't need my children to be the all star athlete (thank goodness, because they can't run without tripping), I don't need them to be straight A students (please don't be smarter than me!) & I don't need them to be the most popular (Actually, please don't be. That's too much unhealthy pressure!)

What do I want for my children then? 

I want to figure out who they are & give them every damn opportunity to be bold, confident and brave in those areas! (And perhaps I want to infuse their lives with a bit of my own selfish passions like love of adventure & a heart for Jesus.)

In the past month my inner mama-bear has been tested.

We walked into a new school system with two months to go in the school year. It was quickly brought to my attention that my son is "behind his peers" and "it's on [me] to catch him up." I was less quickly given options, assistance, & direction. It really was ON me. 

At eight years old, my second grader is scholastically passionate and seemingly statistically average. What do I say to that? BE passionate, son! I don't care what grade you get; I care that you try your hardest, I care that your eyes light up when you imagine seeing the Statue of Liberty in person, I light up when you spew facts you learned in class or ask questions we have to look up answers for together. THAT is success to this mom. 

I have NO problem with my son having a deficit or area of improvement. I don't expect, need, or anticipate perfection, but if there IS an issue, I will do whatever I can to give my children a leg up, to bring their head to the surface, to throw them a life raft, and/or to provide them with opportunity. When my son's teacher told me he was behind I asked: what can I do, where can I go & how can I help? But instead of answers I got: google it.

I started to feel crazy! How far behind is he? How much help does he need? What kind of help does he need?

I've been conflicted. I excused the teacher's distance with "it's the end of the school year....it must be frustrating to get a new student from a different state..." and I began to own what was "on me" to help him with. I began chasing down avenues for myself. I would not raise cane, it's my fault we are the inconvenience...

This is what Mom's do, right? We worry. We love so big our hearts explode and our brains are never off. How can we BE everything our children need while still being our selves and honoring our marriages as the priority?

To make a long story short, I had NO idea where to turn, I had my son assessed at Lindamood-Bell Learning Processes. As a mom, I needed to know how behind was my son? Was the teacher not teaching or was my child drowning (in her one week time with him). What I got was peace of mind. My son wasn't behind at all! He was ahead of his current grade level in his ability to comprehend and every piece that is involved with that. I cried. And then I got angry. I was furious I had spent weeks worried and wondering if I had missed something these last few years of his schooling. I was livid his teacher hadn't given me resources, hadn't offered to teach him what her classrooms processes are, I was angry at her.

When the kids were in bed & my husband was asleep, I sobbed until 2am. I mourned the work of our cross state move, the frustration with the school system, the exhaustion I felt emotionally. I praised God that I had answers, I had gotten help from friends, that I now knew what to do. I unloaded all of my feelings and questions and doubts and thanks that had been stuffed so tightly in but I now had permission to move past.

This is what Mom's do, right? We worry. We love so big our hearts explode and our brains are never off. This is what we do. We lay our hearts down at each morning drop off, pick them back up at each afternoon pick up, question our sanity, practice-practice-practice patience, strive to balance scholastic expectation with normal childhood needs along with sharing our faith, answering their questions, and providing them with a healthy family. This is what we do. And the job never ends, but if we're lucky, we know we aren't alone. I know I'm not alone. I've got a merciful God who reminds me to show that teacher mercy, to forgive, a God who asks me to lay my burdens at His feet even when I think they're mine to cling to, and a God who lets me weep & in the weeping shows me He loves ME just like I love my boys.

This is what Mom's do. 

my sister's gift of grace to me on her wedding day

I am the oldest of three children and while I have siblings,  I was raised like an only child. For many reasons, I grew up alone. 

People always told me that some day my siblings would be friends. I never once had reason to believe them. It always felt like it was me and then them. 

I got married when I was 23. I was a baby. There were wedding choices I made because at 23 I didn't see any other way. I eloped & to this day, I wouldn't change it. 

My baby sister got married this past weekend and for some reason, she chose me as her maid of honor.

There are things her wedding taught me that I had no idea I would learn, grace I received that I had no idea to anticipate. 

To quote my MoH speech, my sister & I are as different as night & day. 

She is Nordstrom while I am Marshall's.

She is fresh fruit while I am a snickers bar. 

She is a bull dog and I am cat. 

But, regardless of who we are, we are sisters. 

No one as been where I have been more than she has. 

No one gets our broken, healing story like she does. 

No one has survived the wreckage with me like she has. 

When I was first married, people loved to indirectly (& directly) give credit to my husband for saving me. He was the good people saw in me. Those who had watched my life from a close distance weren't able to see how far I had had to come to choose him. The courage and strength it took me is also my sister's.  She chose someone who loves her. Ultimately, that comes down to her; she saw her own worth first.  You can't choose what's best for you, what's healthiest, without knowing you yourself are worth it & deserving. For that I am so proud of her. 

My sister had every freedom, every reason, not to choose me to be her maid of honor; nothing except blood obligated her, yet she picked me. 

Post wedding I can't help but wonder, was she afraid I wouldn't come through on my duties? Did she have any doubts with her choice?  If she had freedom, would she have picked me all over again?

Here's what I learned from watching her navigate HER beautiful wedding day, she picked me on purpose & it was her choice. 

Like I said, my sister is a bulldog in the most loyal and strong of ways. You can't tell her to do something, she does it because she wants to. Why it didn't dawn on me that picking me wasn't excluded from that is beyond me. 

My sister showed strength and determination over her wedding day that I ran from. I have a persistent inability to honor my dreams & worry about others, cater to others, self sacrifice. That all meant that MY wedding day meant I had to run. My sister? She honored her dreams, her husband's wishes, included respect of all of her parents & stayed the course. She stayed. She dealt with whining, fits, expectations, immaturity, generosity, ALL of it. It wasn't easy, and she stayed the course. 

So there came her wedding day after months of planning & navigating problems. My sister stood in the face of anxiety when expectations didn't meet reality and while she asked for space from everyone else, she invited me in.  I was the one with her in the moments leading up to her vows, standing to gather her bouquet, and scooping up her dress for bathroom runs & helping her change for her honeymoon getaway. What right did I have to experience that with my sister? Honestly? None. What my baby sister did was show me grace. She trusted me to love her, serve her, and know how to be the calm she needed. 

I've been her sister for 30 years. I can shamefully assure you May 7th was the first day I had ever served her selflessly & whole heartedly. May 7th was the first time I loved on her the way I love on those nearest & dearest to me in their times of need. 

So, Sister, thank you for showing me grace. Thank you for choosing me, trusting me, inviting me in to your moment to let me love you the way I've always wanted to, to serve you in the way you deserve a sister to serve you, to intimately witness your courage & strength, and above all, to truly be your sister.  I am so deeply proud of you. 

Oh, & just so you know, "I could never love anyone as I love my sister." -Jo March. 

Competitive (Grand)Parenting

When my husband and I were first married, we tried to please everyone:

my two sets of parents and his one set.
For all of you who have been there, you know, it's impossible for two people to please 4 parents let alone six or more nowadays.
Each set of parents comes with their own way of doing things, their own priorities, & perhaps worst of all, their own expectations.Attempts at making all 6 parents happy in our young relationship lead to total craziness and discontent on our hearts.
We attempted Christmases that hit three houses all hours apart from each other (this meant a three ring circus!)
I begged to elope because I couldn't handle the idea of my four parents competitive say in what I wore, who walked me down the aisle, and how the wedding was done.
We ultimately went crazy...
then we had our son.

At the birth of our son we had two of my parents who didn't make it and then a hospital waiting room with my mom & his mom.
Not only was my son born but so was a new form of competitive parenting and the birth of competitive grandparenting.

Between a Portuguese man and a Norwegian girl, we all expected a little brown haired, brown eyed baby, but what we got was a beautiful strawberry blonde, blue eyed boy.
Enter: CRAZY.
All of a sudden we had parents saying things like,
"His upper lip looks just like [his paternal grandpa's]."
I'm SERIOUS.
This was ACTUALLY said.
Everyone wanted a piece of this little boy.

Well, this little boy got older and most recently, especially with the onset of our upcoming addition, there's NEW crazy.
Crazy like:
if one grandparent gets our son a toy, the other grandparent has to.
if i refer to my son by his first & middle name, one grandparent force feeds him his first and last name.
if one grandparent hears our son say he loves another grandparent, the grandparent says, "what about me?"

Annnnd this is officially NOT Okay and where I coined the term "Competitive Grandparenting."

Each of our parents carries their own insecurities.
Two parents are insecure about another set's love language of gifts.
Another set of grandparents are insecure about another set's love language of time.
and so on...
Each set of parents is vying for the central focused love of our son & this is where I say
"HAIL NO!"

Growing up in a divorced and severely dysfunctional set of parental relationships,
I KNOW what it's like to walk on eggshells and feel like you can't love one parent in front of another.
This will NOT be tolerated for our kids.
We will soon have 2 precious babes that have EVERY RIGHT to
love
honor
respect
cherish
value
each one of their grandparents inside and outside of their relationship to each one.
The insecurities of these adults will NOT be placed on our kids to
cater to
bandaid
or fear
Our kids deserve to
talk about how they love x, y, z in front of whoever they want
to be excited about a gift received by x, y, or z
to be a kid who is loved by x, y, & z.

It's one thing to competitive Parent a married set of adults--
that's something each married couple has to go through and establish individual relationships with.
It's quite another to competitive Grandparent and as a protective mama bird, completely unacceptable.
It's true, I have a heightened sensitivity to it as a product of my 4 parents,
but I think it has made me a more aware parent.

Oh, how in need of love and how broken we all are in one area or another...

Walk the Talk

It sure is easy to talk the talk. Walking the Walk is something different.

In face of challenges and the unknown, I have just one question before me:
Will I Walk My Talk?
Today is the last day we have two paychecks.
It is the last day with known numbers and our previously existing budget.
We pay our mortgage, feed our mouths, clothe our bodies, and insure our health on these numbers.
The most important thing we do with those numbers is live as stewards.

I thought a lot about the tithe we would send to our home church today.
I asked myself a few questions.
Heart, Is it harder to give today?
I answered, No.
Soul, Are you scared to give today?
I answered, No.
Mind, Do you think you'll need that money you give away?
I answered, We don't need money. We need His provision.

I talk about trusting God with everything I have.
I talk about knowing that He is my provider.
I talk about my faith.
Can I walk it?
Will I walk it?It's a choice and I choose YES.

To each fear that tries to creep in, I'll turn the truth dial up to MAX!
To each doubt that tries to seek, kill, and destroy, I'll get on my knees and PRAISE!
For each tear that comes through my humanity, I'll learn MORE about who my GOD is.
It is HIS time.

Today I wrote the BEST check I've ever written.
Today I gave 10% of our last solid income on numbers we depend on and chose to say, "Father, you are 100% better than numbers and all I want to rely on. We're Yours."

In Malachi 3:10 (NLT), God says this: "Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this," says the LORD Almighty, "and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it." (from Saddleback.com)

We choose to sow into our eternity.
My God is BIGGER than this Mountain!

15 weeks & Counting

Who knew that being pregnant with another lil' one could be so different from the first time!
Aside from the physical symptoms, the biggest difference is how little time there is to sit, refuel, or even think about a nursery, a name, or the little hopes.
When I'm not tied to my desk, I'm struggling just to find time to love on the two men in my life let alone figure out how to call a friend, stay up late enough to watch a show, or grocery shop. UNREAL how exhausted I am.

Um--also, incredibly unreal how much faster I have shown this time around!
At 15 weeks now, I am definitely all belly'd up!
If the Dr. hadn't told me I've gained the same amount of weight I had at the same time my last pregnancy, I'd be thinking I was in serious trouble!
It hasn't stopped me from wanting to post a sign on my shirt that says, "KNOCKED UP" buuut oh well!

So we talk to the midge about him becoming a big brother and ask for his opinion on the little things like, "What do you want to name the baby?" (to which we get no real answer) & the hus' favorite question is, "Do you want a white baby like mommy or a brown baby like daddy?" (to which he always says, "white baby!" and we laugh)
{*I should probably mention for any new readers that I'm a blond (usually) & blue eyed Norwegian while my husband is straight up Portuguese and our first babe was a total shock of bright blond, blue eyes, and fair skin just like Mama.}And life just keeps moving forward
(despite the fact that I feel like this pregnancy is surprisingly taking forever after spending 2 weeks at 14 weeks when my due date was bumped up---lame!!--but I truly think they're wrong. Guess I do have to keep on their time line however.)

So, all is just movin' along over here.
How are YOU doing?!

What would you do if....

your husband said he wanted to buy this?


I suppose some wives would say, "eww, really?!"
(I've totally done it!)
I suppose there is definitely a part of me that is thinking, "ewww, really?!"
HOWEVER
there is this other side of me...
This other side that looks at my husband and what he does to provide for our little family,
the dreams he chases in the name of giving me and our son the best of what this world has to offer,
the man who every.single.road trip we go on says, "I miss my Malibu."
(most certainly not a modern Chevy Malibu!! Heavens no!)
He rebuilt a 1965 Chevy Malibu when he was 18.
His family & friends laughed at him when he brought the rust bucket home
(sadly, I probably would have too)
But he is the man that the more you laugh at him, the more you tell him something isn't possible the more determined he is to find a way to make it work.
He's not out to prove you wrong, he's out to prove that there is a way
because that is who he is-
impossible doesn't exist.
"Impossible" made this happen:
So for a few years I've laughed when he's shown me what he would want to rebuild.
Or I've said, "Would you STOP talking about the Malibu?!"
but I get it now
and the man deserves something impossible to prove possibility
he deserves something to call his own
something to show for his work.
And while life may not be about material things
it IS about dreaming
it IS about achieving
it IS about fulfilling who God made you to be
and God made men to take pride in themselves through their work
and God made my man to shatter the belief that some things cannot be done.

What would I do if my husband wanted to buy that thing above?
I'd tell him I love him & I believe in him.

"This life is light"

Who knew that this was just what I needed....It's not a sob story by any means, but having a job outside of my home means it's one more place where I divide.
There are days when I think being home would be a dream--
then the weekends come and I think,
"HOW do women DO this 24/7?!"
Something I have not had though is uninterrupted, hormonally balanced time to be my son's mom.

I was afraid to be in a car for a 5 hour drive not knowing what I'd do if he cried.
I was thisclose to NOT going at all.
Fear driven...
the "What if I SUCK and CAN'T DO THIS?!"

But, as the amazing Rosi Golan sings,
"I felt it in my heart, that it was time, a change of scenery
To get a little lost, to feel alive, and reach beyond me"

And I did it.
We did it.
With nothing to do but walk the meadows, run in the leaves, and throw rocks into the vineyards
we played like never before.
I watched my son without self-focus.
I loved him without interruption.
I left realizing...
It's harder than hell to do it on my own
(and thankfully I don't have to)
but I know, I am a damn good mom when I put my mind where my heart is.

Dear Baby Boy-
You won't remember this trip the way I do.
You won't tear up when you remember how I held you and we giggled between the vines.
You won't look back when you are eighteen and wonder where that little boy went like I will
and that's ok.
Because selfishly, this trip was all about me and my love for you.

It was about knowing who I can be for you.
Realizing there's a balance between building me and encouraging you-
Respecting time and it's brevity.

So when you ask,
"What was I like when I was a baby?"
I will tell you because I truly know:
You loved to smile.
You could stand in the dirt or in front of water and throw rocks for hours.
You were frightened by new noises and looked to those you trust to protect you.
You love trains because Great Grandpa got your hooked and chocolate because Great Grandma kept m&m's around the house for you to find.

When you forget who you are,
I will remind you.
When you just need to know,
I will tell you...
I LOVE YOU.

Angels, be present!

There are a lot of things I do that could qualify me as crazy: I won't walk on our bathroom floor in bare feet, I won't build a sand castle because I hate getting my hands dirt-dirty, I won't use the utensils at work because they're washed with a sponge vs. a dishwasher...

There are other things that make me feel crazy but I have to acknowledge I'm not.
Spiritual sensitivity.

In this area that makes me feel crazy, I have to resist the urge to say, "I'm making this up," and to press forward in prayer and invitation toward others to pray with me.

When my son was about three months old I began having vivid visualizations and feelings of the presence of evil in our home. It scared me, it forced me out of my house, and it made me invite prayer warriors in. What I learned in a more real way than I ever had was that spiritual warfare was alive and active.

It has been a little over a year since I have felt anything like that in our home but recently it has returned. For the past two weeks, my son has awoken in the night around midnight routinely, crying. Every time I go to him, I walk in his room and feel scared. I feel something beyond my understanding.

I crawled into his bed with him last night as he screamed. I faced him and the wall and I had a very strong fear of keeping my back to the door. I eased myself out of his bed as he calmed down to lay on the floor but felt fear again. I did not want to lay myself down beside his bed, I felt there was something under it. I felt surrounded by a presence of evil in the most innocent room in our home.

I began to pray again as I do when I tuck him in, "Lord, put your angels in all four corners of his room, put your angels above all four corners of his bed..."

As I tried to fall asleep myself, I was struck with anxiety. My life felt like chaos. I felt like any decision I made or have been considering was wrong. My body was seized with a racing heart and the weight of my own bloodstream surging through my veins.

I am overwhelmed with a presence of something that seems crazy but is so real! If you have a moment today, would you say a prayer for our home? Specifically, would you pray that His presence come in, in abundance, that His truth be all that the walls of our home can hear, that our son's room be erased of all evil and surrounded in the sounds of angels breathing.

His love abounds!

Gorillas with Goodies

Is it silly that I can't wait for Halloween?

It's not about the dressing up (even though the Midge will make a good SOLID gorilla)
It's not about the candy (who am I kidding, it's 79% the candy!)
It's really about this chance to be with my family--the one I made with my husband.Last year I had a little Lobster who couldn't walk around and trick or treat.
This year, I have a little Gorilla who has no idea what Halloween or candy is but he sleeps with his giant, plastic pumpkin candy bucket.
This year, he'll walk around to houses, collect little treats (that I will eat, tell my Hus to restrict me, then get mad at him when he does what I asked), pull my babe around in a radio flyer wagon, and just BE with MY boys.
We've been invited to one adult Halloween party and one collection of adults + kids party to trick or treat. The truth is, they don't interest me this year. I want to be selfish.

For a very.long.time I have tried to be everywhere and to do everything.
I had a conversation with a dear friend yesterday where I realized I just want one thing to do, not two. For this upcoming day in particular, I want the one thing I do to be seeing my Midge walk with Daddy, smile when he gets a treat, sign "please" because he wants to try something, see him gobble a treat or too, and watching him fight the costume I'm forcing him to wear.
THAT sounds perfect.
I just accepted (little late, huh?) that there will always be something to miss out on, but I just have to choose which one will make me feel like I'm missing less.
I'm getting to this new phase of life where choosing my son and my family over the things that I thought DEFINED who I was, who I could be, all that I could juggle, is infinitely more peaceful.

For Halloween the choice that makes me miss less is saying I will only be in one place.
I will trick or treat in the early eve and tuck my tired baby into bed.
Right when the adult party starts, I will not leave to pretend I'm childless for a night.
I won't squeeze being a parent and having a social life into one night.
I want to be the one that tucks him in and then sits on my couch next to my husband just knowing our baby is sleeping and I'm right there if he cries.I'm just not interested in the juggling act right now.
I spent so much of his first year of life trying to be everywhere and do everything and I don't feel like I have to anymore.
It's not even that I can't do it, it's that I don't feel like it--I don't want to.

Walking dichotomy-
I always want to be invited.
I always wish I could say yes.
I have always hated saying no. I
am just now feeling unbelievably OK with being left behind because in other ways, I am moving ahead.

4th Anniversary Photo Shoot

"I’m still learning what love is
Everyday I wake up in your arms
I’m still trying to figure out what works
How to set off all your alarms

I’m still learning what love is
When I’m walking close to you
The best way to hold your hand in mine
The best way to comfort you

Guess it may
It may always be this way

I’m still learning what love is
Every time you look at me that way
I’m still trying to figure out just how
You can still look at me the same

Even though I may not get it right
All the time I will always try
And I will always stand right by your side

I’m still learning what love is
Everyday I wake up in your arms
I’m still trying to figure out what works"

~Rosie Thomas, Guess It May

Baby In A Bag

On Thursday my Husband and I will celebrate our 4th Wedding Anniversary.

I have been scheming as to how to celebrate our journey.
I finally arrived at a family photo shoot.
The great thing about the Hus being a pro photographer is that we have amazing photos of our son. The bad thing is that we have no photos of the three of us.
So, I called one of his good friends and fellow photographer and, because he rocks, he's shooting us for free.

To announce the surprise, I decided to go shopping for coordinating outfits.
So out to the GAP I went.
Of course I only managed to find outfits for the boys but the show must go on.
I decided that I should give the Hus the gift ahead of time
(If he didn't like his outfit, I wanted him to think I was giving him the opportunity to exchange it)
I wrapped the goodies up in their GAP boxes and tossed them into a GAP bag and had the Midge drag it into give to Daddy.

When I looked up, the Hus was frozen with a grilled cheese sandwich caught in mid air inches from his mouth.
"Are you pregnant?!" he asked me.
"NO! WHAT? NO!"
"Then why are you both giving me a Baby GAP bag?"
*%&$ %#!# !#*#($
"No, I'm not pregnant. Just open it."

Talk about a buzz kill.

The poor Hus was excited despite the appearance that he was going to self defecate and I went and handed him a now sub par substitute gift...
"Nope, I'm not pregnant but aren't you happy with the little boy you have and the pictures we'll have taken?!"

Hmph.

Some Happy Anniversary Gift!

I won't be looking like this for quite some time:
Perhaps I'll share more about our unique anniversary tomorrow :)

i'll do anything!!

I want to fix it.

I want to make it right.We are blessed with so much.
We are.
We have a home, we have running water, we have love.
We are the have's and NOT the have-not's.
There are moments though when what we have doesn't seem to be enough.
In those moments I pray for truth to invade and defeat the lies.

Christan and I share a common heartache: we are not the one's with our son every day.There are days-many-when I don't think I could be a stay at home mom.
That is a lie.
The truth is, I would be a wonderful stay at home mom but it isn't something I can fathom now because we have to work.

Some days we get caught up on our failures but the truth is we are fighting every day to make the dream work for our family. We DREAM of raising our son and only having a babysitter when we want to go out-- not because we NEED to work. Some days it's easy to see what others have and feel like we ARE the have-not's. It is easy to say, "It's not fair."

Today I feel consumed.
Tell me what to give up!
I'll give up anything not to know how much it hurts my husband to drop our little boy off.
I'll give up anything just to know that our little boy's smile doesn't break into hysterical cries because he knows he's being left again.

I'll give up anything!!!Lord,
help us find a way
fill us with truth
defeat the lies!
allow us to look to you!
close our eyes from looking out
keep us from wanting what others have
allow us to embrace our gifts
allow us to be filled with the joy of your love for us.
guide us
protect us
show us the way
give us the courage to obey
how can we live with less so we can embrace so much more?!
thank you for your goodness, Lord.
amen

A Momma's Vow

I remember the first three months of being a mom.

Wow.
Those were emotional and exhausting.
All I wanted was for my baby to grow up.
Now I look at him and all I want is for him to stay small.Perhaps it's true, the grass is always greener, but daily I work on sitting on the green hill that's been given to be and enjoying the view.

I admit, it's 93% great.
The other 7% that is the good but not great really comes down to me.
The other 7% has to do with maintaining the "me" that I refuse to lose and believe that this refusal is Ok.
I really do love being my son's mom but I see what losing yourself in anything can do, let alone a child.
I refuse to let my son be 110% of who I am.
I refuse to lose the "me"-ness for eighteen years only to leave me empty when he leaves.
I refuse to leave him with the burden of fulfilling me so I aim to fulfill myself in the other things I love: the Lord, my husband, my hobbies, my friends...ME.I know there are Mom's out there who are laughing at me and thinking,
"Oh honey, it's unavoidable. They change your life forever!"
My son has more than changed my life.
He's changed how I love, how I learn, who I want to be, and exposes the worst of me--the things I want to make better. He IS a life change but I never want him to be what defines me.

I know that one day he'll get married--and I swear to be a wonderful Mother In Law!
I know one day he won't come home for Christmas--and I swear I'll be okay with it!
I know one day he will have his own traditions--and I swear I'll be happy for him!
I swear these things but I realize people change.
I should say I desperately WANT these things!

Oh me, oh my!
I think about these things ALL the time!
I talk about these things once a day with my husband.
We plan for his future in ways that are so FULL of hope and love and life.
We sacrifice now for his future benefit.
We build what we do in our present so later it will be his gift.

All of the things I desire for him come from a place I have never known before.
In my heart of hearts, I always knew that having a child would make me understand God's love for me in a whole new light.
I can only imagine what treasures and what dreams He has in store for me.
How amazing that it's even more than what I want for my own son!
How unfathomable that He loves my son even more than I could.

Selfishness & Sacrifice

How often have I complained of the moments I miss with my son because I work?

No need to answer--I know--too often to count.
Today I sacrificed tardiness to hold my boy.
Today I wanted to be his mom--to change him, dress him, feed him, hold him. I wanted to cure the tears and the purple face as he gasped for air at the thought I'd leave him alone in his crib again.
I folded him in my arms and I sat in his rocking chair not caring if I'd get in trouble or if I had to call in and say, "I'll be late." I have a job, I have responsibilities but in this moment, my son was my priority.
I want every day to be the day I wake him, dress him, hold him.
I wait to pack up the "old life" anxiously.Have I told you of my husband's sacrifice?
Relentlessly studying and searching for new ways to free us, he smiles through it.
He started a business--one we were partners in until I threw my hands up saying,
"It's too much!"We have prayed for success--prayed for photography to become full time.
Now, as his schedule thickens it's my turn to sacrifice and my selfishness stands in the way.
I sacrifice my time with him.
I sacrifice my sanity when Ashton and I want him home at night.
Selfish.
I am not sacrificing anything.
I tell him, "When you work 2 full time jobs, I am working two full time jobs."
Selfish.
I have said it before
We sacrifice now so we receive the pay off later.
Now is when those words are being tested.

In one breath, IPRAISE the Lord that Christan is now booked with only one free weekend in August--the only free weekend until mid-October. In the other breath, I wallow in self pity as I realize that I lose time.
Selfish.
This mission--this dedication my husband has is unreal.
His goal: One of us WILL be a full time parent!
One of us will be home full time.
I don't care which of us it is--I just want our little boy with us.
I am learning to develop encouragement vs. discouragement.
My sad words of, "I miss you. I want our time," will hurt him.
He wants those things as much as I do. It's WHY he's doing this!It makes me selfish with the free time we DO have.
NO-I don't want to spend that time with other obligations!
NO-"You" are not allowed to make us feel guilty because we can't be everywhere!
NO-NO-NO
This is about us.
Selfish?
Not to me.

Selfishness & Sacrifice
Freedom the ultimate goal.

Love,
You know I miss you when you are gone.
You know I want you here with me.
You NEED to know how much I THANK YOU for your selfless sacrifice.
You NEED to know that I promise to work on my selfishness.
I'm SO Proud of what you are accomplishing in the name of Our P Pod :)I wait for OUR days.
In love,
Me

{images from fabbrunette}