What a Day!

Ryan took today off, a rare, meaning nearly extinct, occasion.  We wanted to take the girls to the Pittsburgh Zoo as we are zoo members and want to make sure we get our worth out of our pass.  And, so this is what went on today, sort of in order as I can recall at this point in the evening:

1.  Emery was up lots last night with those darn two front teeth coming in (which, let me tell you, has made nursing real fun).  Her up = me tired.  Really, I must look like hell.  I am saying that because it is how it really must be.  I haven't slept a full night in 10 months people.  The skin and looking dull, the eyes not so bright...oh, this is for another post.  Back to today.

2.  Avery wakes up at 6am because she is so excited.  She wakes Emery up, and now we are all up.  Two wild and excited kids; two tired and cranky parents.  You've been there.  Not a pretty picture.  I told Ryan on the way over that I wouldn't have wanted to go to the zoo with us if I were our kids.  Good thing they forgive quickly.  

3.  We, along with most elementary school kids in the tri-state area, made it to the zoo by 10.  Wow.  I am going on every field trip that I can.  What chaos!  I have no idea how they kept track of all of those kids, even if they were dressed alike and wearing silly name tags.  Who votes for mircochips in our kids?  Me! Me!

4.  Having much fun at the zoo.  Kids were so good.  We decided to skip the down under part of the animal trail and head to The Strip District for lunch.  Love this idea.  

5.  On the way out of the zoo, we got the dreaded phone call from the mechanic.  Ryan's Jetta is pretty much a goner.  Engine is dead.  THIRTY FIVE HUNDRED kind of dead.  Ouch.  And, it's in Morgantown.  That towing bill should be great!  So, we're ditching the Jetta.  Now what?  A new car really wasn't in the plan.  Huge bummer.  I guess that money we had saved for vacation is going towards a new ride.  

6.  The Strip - total success.  La Prima and Enrico nearly saved the day.  

7.  Girls napped in the car on the way home.  Ruined my idea of the afternoon.  I wanted to make spaghetti sauce while they slept.  More about this later.  

8.  Ryan was upset about the car = can't stay home and think about it = Cabela's trip for a fishing pole for Avery.  Live animals in the am; stuffed animals in the pm.

9.  FFW to 10pm when I started making the spaghetti sauce that would have been done by now if the car nap hadn't ruined it all.  All is ready to go for tomorrow, only needing a few hours to simmer.  

I am totally exhausted.  Lots of ups and downs today.  Bed in a few minutes, please.  Emery sleep all night, please.  

Just Thinking about God

I have just been thinking about God a lot today, about who he is to me, especially right now.  And, I feel like I am setting myself up for failure with the post, as I know I won't even touch the entirety of God, but that really isn't my purpose for this blog.  I just want to talk a minute about God and what I am really loving about him right now.  

He's mighty to save (click here to hear a song by this title).  What does that mean?  Save as in save me from my sins?  Save as in save my life?  Save as in save me from _________?  Yeah, I guess all of that.  He is so mighty to save.  He is my savior.  And, what a sweet joy that is!  There is no condemnation.  None.  He loves me that much.  Amazing.  But, just today, he saved me from sadness.  I believe that God knew that I was sad today, that I needed confirmation that my life matters.  So he confirmed it.  Nothing like what I expected or from someone who I would expect to be shown love, but it was kind love non-the-less.  

He answers my prayers.  Well, he always answers, but maybe not with what I specifically had in mind (see above paragraph).  Sometimes he changes my heart or my mind, so that I can see how his idea, his plan is better, bigger, just much, much better.  He knows my needs.  He sees my hurts.  He understands my fears.  My God cares for me.  Just this week I have seen him heal, protect, preserve, prosper people for whom I have prayed.  And, he hears my secret prayers.  The ones I utter when I am on the verge of tears and screams because my day just isn't going so great.  He knows I fear losing a child, literally and figuratively. He knows that I am frustrated, scared, annoyed, tired, sad.  He fills me with hope and trust and faith.  He reminds me of who he is, and that perspective makes things better.  He brings people into my life to show me, to teach me more about his character, his love.  

To sum up, I just want to say a little prayer of thanks.  God, you are so good.  You know me.  You love me.  You care about all the facets of my life.  You are not far from me.  You are God.  You answer prayers.  And, you are mighty to save.  

So what do I do with this?  What is my response?  If God loves me in my current condition, if he cares about me, about my ENTIRE life, how does this change how I treat people?  Couldn't I be more sensitive, more caring, more concerned, more helpful, more encouraging, more supportive?  Couldn't I try to listen more attentively, be more patient, speak upliftingly, judge less, be more vulnerable.  Because to be honest, sometimes I feel like I am putting myself out there and no one really cares, no one is really responding.  Oh, pity party me.  Gosh, I bet God really feels this way.  He totally put himself out there, as in on the cross, and I am sure he was hoping for a bigger response.  I sure would be, wouldn't you?  

Love Bravely

There are many things that I hope to teach my children.  I want them to be polite, to speak for themselves, to follow dreams, to know how to cook, to be self sufficient, to appreciate family and the value of a dollar.  Adding to this list of practical knowledge is an attribute that I find a must - to be able to love bravely.  

We can't choose who we love.  It just happens.  You see a person, and they look different to you than all of the others.  You like the way they talk.  Both the sound of their voice and what they have to say is pleasing to you.  You want to spend your time, all of it really, with them.  You become willing to give up some of your own wants to please them.  It often feels as if there are magnets pulling the two of you together, as if forces your whole life have been working to make that connection.  We can't choose to not love them.  It just happens.  

And, sometimes, love doesn't happen in the easiest of circumstances.  Maybe you love someone who lives far away, who has different dreams, who comes from a difficult family, who doesn't have any money, who has made some choices that have lead to tricky consequences.  Maybe the person doesn't even love you back or just doesn't know how to.  It happens.  

Most likely my girls are going to fall in love, hard, many times, and get their sweet, little hearts broken.  And, I hope that I can teach them that being certain about how you feel towards a person is a really good thing, and that if they really love someone, then the risk is worth it.  

We all desire to be loved wildly, passionately, even, dare I say, senselessly.  But, do we love that way in return?  Does my love know undoubtedly that he is my dream?  Does he feel that my love is strong and thriving?  Do those magnets still pull us together?  Does the force still feel uncontrollable?  Does he feel that I love him bravely?  

Love is a risk.  And, what a story, what a life to lead, what a dream to make if I can still love that way.  Because I do have something to prove.  Because I do want to love.  And, I do want to be brave about it.  

Once a Mom

Once you become a mom, the whole world changes.  People become more human, stories become more personal, life becomes more complicated.  Every child you see, good or bad, beautiful or not, seems lovable.  And, every mother you see, well maybe not every mother,  is a potential friend.  Catty pasts, differing cultural or religious differences, parenting styles, marital status, economic ladder position, clothing store preference - none of these things matter much.  One mom looks another mother in the eyes and just knows -- she's held a sick baby, she's wiped tears, she's been up all night, she's had it and kept smiling and playing anyways, she's given up her idea of a fun day to appease a toddler, she's waited to hear the sweet sound of a baby crying after too long of silence in the crib, she's...she's... she's...The list just goes on and on.  Becoming a mom is like joining an amazing, exclusive club, and one of the major perks of membership is compassion.

And, when I heard about baby Silas (just click on his name to read his story), I found myself crying.  And, it took me a few days to figure out why I was hit so hard by this, why I was so emotionally involved, why I couldn't stop thinking about him and praying for him.  While I am sure that more will surface, I have come up with a few ideas.  

First of all, it brought up a lot of memories of Avery's birth.  While Avery didn't have anything nearly, nearly, nearly as serious as Silas, I could relate to the feeling of having your baby abruptly taken from you and rushed to the NICU.  I could relate to the waiting on and wondering when your baby would be returned to you.  I could relate to the scary and awful feeling of wondering if your new baby was going to be alright.  In fact, I think that this is the main reason why I can't stop thinking about Silas.  I was so busy, so trying to put on a good face, so hormonal, so tired, so scared those first few days with Avery, that I wasn't really present.  I suppose I allowed myself to emotionally respond hearing a similar story, even if it is nearly three years later.  

Then there's the question of why.  Why God would you let this happen?  What good is going to come from this?  Why does this baby have to struggle?  I wondered about Avery's birth.  Why was it so hard for her, for us?  What was really going on that we weren't being told by the doctors?  And, then there comes the questions like:  What will Avery think of her birth story?  What will she think of those marks that will be on her back for life from her delivery?  Would either of us be alive if we had lived in a previous time?  Parents must have these questions running through our minds constantly.  And, when we pray, when we beg of God for mercy and protection, and don't get the answer we were asking for, how do we then respond?  

I have to believe that even small struggles have meaning.  While I prayed for a smooth and easy delivery of Avery, I got just about the opposite.  The end result is still amazing, still wonderful, but not how I had imagined it would be.  And, I believe that something awesome is going to come from Avery's birth struggle.  Someday.  She has a special story and I am sure it will influence her life.  And, Silas, while we try to pray perfectly for you, we know that God has an amazing plan for your life.  Our words can't even touch the greatness that God has in mind for you.  Who knows how God is going to us this part of your life for His glory.  You are all probably already singing it, but I will go ahead and quote Sage Garth "some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers".  

Lastly, I have a bit of a confession.  I worry.  Alot.  Deep inside of me, I feel that I would like to have another child.  (Ryan, on the other hand, is totally fine with two and never wants to have to cater to a crying infant again.) However, I keep thinking that there's one more little girl inside of me.  And, I worry that odds are against me.  I worry that I already have two really healthy girls and that there's a big chance of something going wrong if there's a next time.  Ryan studies statistics, we talk about odds and percentages all of the time.  I hear stories like that of Silas and I am scared.  Could I handle that fear, that worry?  Would it break me, beat me?  The things that I can imagine going wrong are just awful.  How selfish of a response is this!  Why is it all about me?  About my worries?  There is a young, sweet family facing such hardship and I am nightmaring about my own life.  But, I needed to be honest with you.  After all, most of you are in my mom club and have these same kind of thoughts, and honesty keeps me sane. 

And, so Silas, I am sure that there are so many people who have already been touched by your story, and one of those is me.  You have made me reflect once again about being a mom, about being a mom of faith, of hope, and of love. I was able to face some fears and confront some emotions because of you.  I don't know why this has happened to you or your family, but I am sure that you are going to be told stories like mine for years to come.  

Silas is still fighting to be fully well.  Join me in praying for him and his family.  I pray especially for his mom, as she is part of my club.  We are forever forged by motherhood.

Lemon Lover

I have never been a citrus girl until now.  Suddenly, all things lemon, lime, and orange are just lovely.  It all started with a Yankee candle and since then I have found so many great citrus things to enjoy.  I love the freshness, crispness, and color that citrus supplies.  And, it is a great time of year for those attributes.

The Yankee candle is Sparkling Lemon.  My mother-in-law brought it for me a few months ago, really when it was still chilly outside.  While she and my father-in-law played with the kids, I whizzed around the house dusting, scrubbing, and vacuuming.  When I was finished, I put a match to the wick and fell in love.  It smells like every lemon should.  My whole house filled with that fresh and clean smell, even in the girls room, which can often smell of old sippy cups, diapers, and baby dolls.

Then, about a month ago, I was in line at Giant Eagle.  The woman behind me loaded two six packs of San Pellegrino Limonata onto the belt.  They were the faintest yellow in the sweetest blueish-green bottles.  Being that I am always thirsty at the grocery store, these looked especially appealing.  I just had to try it.  When I went back a week later, I picked up one six pack of the Limonata and one of the Aranciata.  I am in love.  First I tried the lemon, delish and cold.  Really liked it.  Then, the orange - wow!  You really must try them.  They are pricey, but I don't drink alcohol, so this is my adult beverage.  

And, since I like the smell of lemons and the taste of lemons, why wasn't I using fresh lemons in my cooking?  I have added those balls of sweet and sour yellowness to some pasta dishes, and they have worked wonderfully especially with chicken and artichokes.  But, the real kicker, came this past weekend.  I wanted to take two fruit pies - a peach and a strawberry rhubarb- to a party.  I added fresh lemon juice to each and the fruit flavors just popped.  I had known about this baking "trick" for years, but never had fresh lemons on hand.  Now, I think I am going to have to make lemons a regular on my grocery list.  

Ah, summer, sun, and citrus.  Doesn't sound too bad to me.

You may have noticed that I haven't blogged this week.  I am a little swamped.  Emery is having some rough nights because of her top teeth coming in, making for noisy nights and parents with sleep deprivation.  I almost was in an accident yesterday because my mind is so dull from this.  I couldn't even really hold a conversation a dinner last night.  I went to be early and was sleeping so hard that I didn't even hear Emery screaming 5 feet away from me.  Ryan had to wake me as he heard her from the basement.  I guess I was really tired.  And, then there are those chores that I mentioned earlier.  I have started all of them and progress is being made, but what used to take me a day now takes me a week.  This is really frustrating for me, but I realize it is just how things are now.  On top of this, I am planning Avery's birthday party, working on the garden, and trying to keep my house from looking like a toddler bomb has exploded.  So, here are some random mentionings:

1.  I highly recommend Eating Well magazine.  I have so much fun making the recipes out of there and they are all geared towards eating in a healthy way.  After reading it cover to cover, I can't wait to cook.  

2.  I am in the mood to remove.  I took a load of old items to the Mission this week, gave some things to family members, and am trying to use up things hanging out in our cabinets.   We went to a party at the home of one of Ryan's professors last week.  Their home was so clean and minimal.  They had pictures and other items (everything matched a theme, mostly all based on the color blue) but no clutter.  I just loved how calming it was.  The kids didn't have TONS of stuff to get in to, and there was lots of room for them to play.  I was inspired by this, and am doing some work on my own home because of them.  

3.  No poo is about done.  We are nearing week four and I think I am done.  Here is why:  My face is broken out.  This never happens.  I am not a pimple person, really ever.  Thank, God!  So, when my face started feeling bumpy near the forehead and my chin grew some hills, I started to worry.  I like the idea of no poo; it makes total, logical sense.  But, I am a girl and I like to look pretty.  This phase may be over in total.  The vinegar rinse may be a weekly thing.  I will continue to use organic shampoo, but need to find better organic styling products.

I can't think of anything else that will work for just a list.  Maybe another day I will have time to elaborate on Vivian's beauty, June Belle's arrival, my love for all things citrus, etc.  Don't give up on me.  How about you offer me some sleep and sanity?  I don't have much to give today...

Mommy Front

Motherhood can seem a lonely road.  There are many long days of giving and receiving only a sticky handed hug of a toddler or an open mouthed kiss of a 10 month old as reward.  Good thing those tiny offerings of love are pure and sweet and make the endless sacrifice somehow worth it.  I often picture myself with words like "two is a zoo" written on my head, but I am trying to erase those and replace them with something more along the lines of the work is hard but the love is easy.  There is a slight shift in positivity in the latter, incase you missed it.

And while it can seem like an eternity before daddy comes home to offer a hand, I have found another army of comrades to aid in my daily duties.  Moms, gals, sisters, friends are all offering their support and love to me while I raise my girls.  Phone calls, play group conversations, emails filled with cheers, advice, warnings, ideas.  I am surrounded by women encouraging me to be the best mom that I can be.  

And, this concept of many uniting to work together isn't  a new idea by any means but one that I am finally utilizing in my own life.  I would not really say, looking back on my life, that I have ever really been a girls girl.  I have had a few "select" friends that I allowed to be involved in my true life, but most people I held at arms length.  I suppose I always assumed the worst - that I would be let down, that I would discover a gossip, a liar, a fake.  And, this I regret.  I have missed out on many wonderful friendships because of this fear.  I don't want to live an isolated life any longer, nor do I want my daughters grow up thinking this way.  So, since becoming a mother, this is one of the major changes that I have made in my life.  I need women to make a positive mark, to help me understand what is happening, to help me cope, to laugh with me, to teach me about motherhood, to help me work out all of the crazy emotions that I face on a daily, if not hourly, basis.  I need friends.  I need you.  

What a wonderful vision to see mothers joining together in love to raise this generation of children.  I feel more able to do what is right for my family knowing that all of you are with me. And while we band together, not only are we helping one another, but we are teaching our children the power of friendship.  

What do you have to offer to a mom today?  Did you really tell your mom that you loved her last Sunday?  Did you help that mom in the Walmart line when her baby was screaming or did you give her a dirty look?  Have you told that mom of teenagers that she is going a great job?  Moms need encouragement and support shown to them more than just on one Sunday a year.  What do you have to offer?  

Mother's Day

Mother's Day wasn't always a happy day for me. When I heard my doctor warn of possible infertility, a whole new silence entered my world. To me, it was unfathomable. I had always wanted to be a mother, people always commented on how I would make a good mom, my heart knew I was a natural mommy. This couldn't be right. This isn't what my life looks like. This isn't what I had planned.
The following months of trying, while not as difficult as some have, were trying for me. The medicine, the diet, the timing and scheduling. The bloodwork, waiting for results, the failures, the trying again. The tears, the hope, the anger, the frustration, the shame. I still could not fathome it. I still would not accept it.
Those months were times of uncertainity for me to become certain of one thing: that God would be enough. Period. That while my heart was broken, I could praise him. That while I could not believe what was happening, that I could accept it. That while I felt hopeless, I would persue hope. I wrote in my journal, I made cds, I wrote prayers, I made up songs, I laid hands on my belly. I waited and trusted; I spoke firmly and loudly while accepting silence.
Months passed. It was devestating to even see children. Pregnant women brought me to tears. I mourned. We kept trying. And, somehow, God made a miracle in my womb. A baby for us. That is the Mother's Day that I celebrate, the day when I became a mother.
I don't know why I faced infertility for that phase in my life. I don't know why it was hard for us and so easy for others. But, I know that it matters. That those months were character shaping. That those times of longing make me appreciative everyday for my babies.
I know some of you reading this are struggling now with a loss of hope. To you, I just want to hug you and cry with you. And, I know some of you have been in my shoes and are now mothers to children born of other parents. And, to you I just want to cheer. What an honor to be friends with you and your children. The adoption process seems so painstaking, like a treat is being dangled before you, making you jump and do tricks for your reward. I cheer you on. I hug you for the triumph that is yours and your childs.
I know that being a mom is not easy. And, I know we would all like a little pampering and appreciation on our speical Mother's Day, but tomorrow I am going to celebrate my girls. They make me a mom.
God, you answered my prayer to become a mother. You did this for me in such a big way. I know that my struggle is worth something to you. Let me be used for this in some way. This is my offering...

Mean Girls

At the grocery store yesterday, Avery was bullied for the first time.  

We pulled our cart up to the meat counter.  There a man and a 4 year old girl waited in front of us.  I smiled at the girl.  She looked right at Avery, bugged out her eyes, and made a nasty tongue-sticking-out-face.  I looked her dead in the eyes, she lowered her head.  I put Avery's face in my hands and whispered to her that she need not worry about the girl being rude.  And, that her response should be to smile and just look away.  You would think that since I caught the nasty brat, and I will call her this because she was being mean to my baby and I don't know her name, that she would stop.  No!  She went around her father to try to get around my back to make the faces at Avery again.  I moved my back to protect Avery and tried to distract my girls from the bully.  Luckily, the girl left with her father before the mean teacher in me had to come out.  

I told Avery I was proud of her for not making the faces back at the girl and for being kind.  I really couldn't be proud of myself.  I wanted to put that nasty brat in her place.  And, here I am the adult.  The mother in me was ready to protect not turn the other cheek!

That night Avery brought the girl up at dinner and we explained the situation to Ryan.  I told Avery that I wasn't going to let anyone treat her that way.  Ryan chimed in, in all his wisdom and reality, and told her that no matter how much we protect her, she is going to get picked on at some point.  He's right, once again.  This makes me sad.  I want to be able to protect her from all kinds of hurt, especially mean girls.

I was bullied by mean girls in middle school and even a little in high school.  I recall days of dreading school, of dreading life.  I have no idea why they picked on me, why they chose me to emotionally beat up.  I do know that who I am today would have said something to them about it instead of just taking it.  And, I have to wonder if there are girls out there who feel like I bullied them at some point.  This makes me really sad to think about.  How foolish of us to tear one another down just so we can feel better about ourselves. 

Ryan's right.  I can't protect Avery from meanness.  But, I can create a relationship with her where she can come to me when she feels sad or angry.  I can be aware of how she is feeling about herself.  I can teach my girls not be "mean girls".  I can...

And, so my offering today is about being mean.  Are you still a mean girl?  Do you still bully? Is there someone out there that you need to befriend?  Just wondering...

This is for Me

Yesterday I struggled to come up with a blog topic.  And, once I did, I struggled to write it.  The post seemed too vague, then too personal, too preachy, too vindictive.  I couldn't say what I wanted because I was worried about how it was going to come across to you.  

Over the past few weeks I have run into a few of you and had some Woe moments.  Some of you mentioned a post, a funny thing that happened this week, or recognized my children without ever meeting them before.  In those moments, I was taken back.  Shocked a little.  Maybe the fact that you read my ramblings wasn't a reality to me until then.  And, it got me thinking.  Am I being careful about what I put on here?  Am I exposing my family?  Am I making safe choices (we've all seen those Lifetime movies that put fear into our everyday lives)?  Am I being sensitive to how what I say effects you, influences you, makes you feel about yourself?  And, those are just the scary, negative feelings that came.  To be honest, I was flattered as well.  You took time out of your day to see what I had to say, you felt a connection to me, you wanted me to know that you cared.  This is just wonderful.  

And, this leads me to the title of my post.  This blog is for me.  For me.  Not you.  This is a therapy of sorts to help me gather my thoughts, to consider my feelings, to express myself when no one is around to listen.  I write for me.  If along the way you get something good out of it, bonus.  But, I can't filter what I write because I am concerned about you and what you will think of it.  That's not a blog.  At least that's not a blog without advertising.

To end, keep reading.  Keep mentioning things when you see me.  Help me to understand my life.  Help me to find connections in my community.  Be my friend.  Blog with me.  Talk to me.  And, in return, I will keep writing, for myself, for the mother in me, the girl, the child, the wife, the scared, the excited, the creative, the bored, the stressed woman that I am.  I love that you read, but it's not why I write.  

Poo Movement

I have replaced my reading of celebrity gossip sites with the reading of blogs.  I love hearing about the daily lives of real people and their reactions to reality.  I have found that my mommy life - full of creating, cleaning, conserving, and consuming - is not so unique in its uniqueness.  This does not sadden me, but sort of adds comfort and higher aspirations.  

One thing we are working on in our home is being more green.  I know, so is the rest of the country.  And, good for all of us for jumping on this kind of bandwagon.  I was reading my friend Heather's blog and she recommended some great green cleaners.  I have tried a few of the Method products this week and have really liked the Pink Grapefruit All Purpose cleaner and the Eucalyptus Mint Bathroom cleaner.  

And, besides trying to use better cleaning products for my home, I have been thinking about those which I use for my body.  I have never been a shower every day kind of person.  Never.  It just isn't my style.  I probably wash my hair 3 times a week and only blow it dry two of those times.  I haven't worn deodorant (except when it is terribly hot and I am doing hard work) since middle school.  With my mom's breast cancer, I don't want anything toxic being rubbed into my breast tissue on a daily basis.  I haven't used hair conditioner in over a year because my hair just didn't seem to need it.  So, this week, I am attempting to join the no poo movement.  It makes total sense to me from a scientific and earthy friendly side, and I am trying to convince my I-like-to-look-nice side to join in.  I washed my hair with a baking soda solution and then rinsed with a vinegar and water mixture.  I didn't apply any styling products afterward, but simply dried it with a round brush.  It feels really soft and "looks a little poofy", as Ryan said.  I am going to give it a shot.  Some of you may gag, but to each his own.  I will let you know how it goes.  Here is a picture of me now (not impressive, I know, but it really doesn't look much different from my every day, filled with toxins look): 

If you want more details, check out an article or two.  Ryan's going to try it with me, too.  Isn't he a great guy?  Could I be offering up my desire to be as pretty as possible (in the eyes of the world) in order to be a healthier, more responsible to the Earth kind of person?  We'll see.