The Heart of This Boy

Rather abruptly at lunch yesterday, Lucas announced that he really wants a sister. But not a baby sister "from my tummy." He wants us to adopt a sister that is closer to his age so he has someone to play with. He said he had been "really thinking about this." I could see it on his face. He was very serious and thoughtful. It was not a whim discussion. And although his comments caught me off guard, they did not catch me by surprise.

He has said before that he would like a sister, but has never been so specific about adoption and wanting an older girl to join our family. I know that part of this adoption idea being sparked in his head comes from asking about a book I just finished that tells the story of a family's adoption journey. But it wasn't like he was borrowing an idea. It was more that one had been uncovered and he now had words for it.

His words were both tender and funny. He has figured out where "our girl" would sleep and sit in the car and at our table. He has an idea of what her name should be but he's not ready to share that yet. The longer we talked about it, the more he wanted to say. It was as if he could picture it more and more and couldn't contain how much he would love if it all actually came to be. I kept asking why he thought he wanted a sister, specifically one his age. After saying "I just do" about a dozen times, he finally got quiet.

"Sometimes, I just feel like I don't want to be the oldest. Like if my brother were here, I would have someone to be with me." My heart stopped for a moment. There it is. The root of this is a longing that I totally get. I feel it with him, I just didn't know he felt it like this. He misses his brother.

When asked why missing Micah makes him want to have a sister and not an older brother, his reply brought some much needed tension release to the moment. Pointing at Caden he says, "Well, I have already seen how that goes and I think I want to try a sister this time." LOL! (disclaimer: These boys LOVE being together and LOVE playing together. Caden is just a bit intense for Lucas sometimes and a bit frustrating at this stage.)

I relayed this conversation to Hubby later in the afternoon, but more in a "hear the cute things our son said" kind of tone. When really, his words have touched a deep place in my soul. I don't know if we would ever adopt another child or not. Reading this book has certainly revived a desire I have had since high school to share our family's love with a child who may be in need of some. But parenting these boys is hard and makes me wonder if I have what it would take to parent through an adoption and be the right kind of mother to a girl of any age. But Lucas' words still ring in my ears. Is God using my 5yr old to water a seed?

I certainly don't know yet. I told Lucas that as a family we could talk more about this and pray about it. I told him he should ask God if this is right for our family and see what God says. But no matter what, if any, concrete action comes from this lunch conversation, I at the very least got a glimpse into the soul of my son and it was precious. So very precious. He has such a tender, little heart that longs for a brother he has never met. This visceral longing that has forever changed me resides also deep in this boy that, in many ways, rescued my soul from darkness. He also longs for a sister and I just can't dismiss that. I think I might long for that too. But the thought of bringing a little girl into our family, no matter the route, is daunting and a bit terrifying to me.
I am grateful for the heart of this little boy. I am touched by his words and thoughts and fully aware of God working in his soul. And mine.




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The Heart of What Is True

We brought out our Jesus Tree this morning, since it is Ash Wednesday and all- the beginning of Lent. I fed my boys breakfast and then the three of us sat together and read the first passage (Luke 2:22-38) and put the birds on our tree. We talked about what Lent means and how it is an important season of preparation just like Advent. How it is a time to reflect and fix our eyes and heart on Jesus. We had a really nice moment, me and my boys, and then we went about our day.
I would love to tell you that our day was perfect after having such a nice moment at breakfast. It wasn't a horrible day, but a pretty typical one. There was school and music class and lunch and an outing with some friends. Throw in some tantrums and whining and mommy losing her cool and it was your average day for us.

I wish I was a perfect mom. Well, at least a better one. I wish I was more patient and less prideful. I wish I was that mom who could smile 'til it hurt, even through constant whining and fits about toys and TV. I am not that mom. I get so frustrated, I feel manipulated, and I don't always deal with that well. I have big expectations for myself and most people in my path (including my two little guys). I SO wanted (and planned) to think of some new Lenten crafts to start today or plan some big family devotional or something. Instead, I yelled at Caden when he was over-tired and refused to get in the car seat (aka: kicking and screaming and whole nine yards).
I fall. Everyday. I wake up with the ambition that today I will be the mom of my expectations. And without fail, I fall. Sometimes later in the day than others (depending on how much sleep I got). And each evening, I sit by their sleeping beds and pray God's protection over their little hearts from my own faults and weakness. And today was no different. It started well and became average with a few shameful moments thrown in too. So tonight, this first night of Lent, I again sat close as they drifted to sleep, praying for God's help in teaching them and loving them and shaping them into the men they are meant to be. It is too easy to get down on myself for all the ways I am not who I should be or where I should be.

But in the quiet of their dark room tonight, God reached in to quiet my parade of guilt and replace it with what is True: I am not perfect. I am not meant to be perfect. I love those boys more than I can fathom and would give them the world. What I do is enough. I have endless worth in His eyes. When I fail them, He is there. Covering what I lack. And the places I fall, He covers those too.
Yes, I have things to repent of and areas to work on. But I am not at this alone.

My flesh is incapable, depraved and in need of my Savior. His grace covers my sin and theirs and yours. In my heart is what is true: I am loved by my God, despite my faults. My deep love for my boys is not changed by my shortcomings. I desire to give all of me to my Lord and let Him shape me. I know those things to be true even though I regularly fall short.
I only pray that as God continues to teach me the heart of what is true and show me grace for all the ways I let Him down, my boys will see Him at work.

I may not be truly prepared for Lent. I don't have any new crafts to do or exciting activities planned. I am positive that I will wake up tomorrow, hoping it will be the day I meet my own expectations for myself and yet I know I will fall. But He will be even there. Whispering again to me the truth that is in my heart. And helping me live and teach that truth to my precious boys a little more everyday. So that is what Lent will be for me this year: trying to reflect on what I know is True and fix my heart on Him so that my boys will hopefully learn to do the same.

(well... maybe one or two crafts! :) )


These ladies say it way better than I ever could:

Lenten Preparations

Why do Lent?

Lent {for the newcomer}



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Rooting Out the Weeds

Hubby and I recently dived head first into Dave Ramsey's philosophies of budget and debt management. In one of his books, he says "If you are apathetic because everything seems 'just fine,' then you will be unwilling to make the huge changes needed to get huge results. ... The enemy of 'the best' is not 'the worst.' The enemy of 'the best' is 'just fine.' "

I both 100% agree with this and yet kinda disagree. When it comes to strict budgeting to eliminate debt and build wealth, he is totally right. But I am not sure this phrase applies universally. When I try to apply this philosophy to my marriage and my parenting and my relationships with my family, I start to see how it leads me down a dangerous road. Let me explain. (To be fair, Dave Ramsey is NOT applying this phrase to my marriage and mothering abilities... that is all me... and I am preaching only to myself here.)

I am an all-or-nothing kind of gal. I always read the preface of a book because either I am reading the whole book or I feel like I have cheated. I am not good at skimming or "maybe" or "we'll see how things go." I like a plan, I like things to fit in the boxes I have made for them. Things and people.
Before I was a wife or a mother, I had pretty sure ideas of what both marriage and parenthood would be like. (*wink*) My husband would always passionately pursue me, we would talk about everything and usually agree, and sex would never be dull or routine. Then would come motherhood. And I was sure that would be filled with joyous moments of watching my children grow into respectable little humans who adored me and only occasionally tested their boundaries. I am exaggerating a bit, but you get the idea.
Reality is usually different than the world I envision in my mind. Relationships too. We all know that marriage and motherhood are hard and that no one is perfect at either one. But how much mediocrity do we say is part of the reality of life and how much should we be striving for things to be "the best" or at least "better?"

It is easy for me to look at my husband and see things that I would like to change. Little behaviors or personality traits or sometimes even bigger things. It is very easy for me keep a running tally of those things in my mind and gather more and more ammunition each time.
I have this habit of taking my less-than-stellar motherhood moments and harping on them in my mind until I am convinced my boys will need therapy before they reach puberty. I have gone to great lengths to preserve my days at home with the boys and have visions of how those days should go. Yet when the boys fight and I lose my cool and we didn't get to the Advent craft I had planned, I feel disappointed and a little like I have failed them.

What I am getting at is this: My marriage could be better. My mothering could be better. My relationship with my mom and my sister could be better. But I am afraid I am paralyzing my ability to enjoy and appreciate those relationships for what they truly are by always looking at the ways they could be "better." I am not saying I don't need to work on things. I certainly do. In fact, I met with a good friend this morning for coffee who lovingly challenged me to look at my own sin of finding fault with others and how that can be so detrimental. Especially to my marriage. I am just saying that always focusing on how things "ought" to be and the ways in which my Hubby or my boys or my family need to change in order to better fit into the boxes that I have created for them might actually be hurting my ability to be content. I tell myself "if only ... blah, blah, blah." Fill in the blank. If only Hubby took more initiative. If only the boys were less wild. Whatever.
My habit of finding fault is a weed. I have to root out this weed. When such a thought pops into my head, I have to get rid of it immediately. Root it out. Don't even let it grow.
Because when you really get down to it, even though it could always be "better," my marriage is "just fine." My relationship with my boys is "just fine." My Hubby loves me and I would never doubt his loyalty. My boys are sweet and forgiving of my out-bursts and truly do adore me. We have some great times together.
This is one instance where saying things are "just fine" is not an indicator of apathy. It is an acknowledgment that we are a work in progress and might never reach "the best." But as long as we stop constantly finding fault but are still willing to see areas where we need to improve, it is better to be content and find joy in the 'just fine."



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Soft Place to Fall

I took the boys to the Arboretum last week, determined to get outdoors and enjoy one of the last warm days of the season. We had a fabulous, fancy-free time of running around and exploring. While in the Children's Garden, Lucas wanted to climb through this big spider-web thing (ropes put together to resemble a web, meant for kids to play on). Of course seeing his older brother do it, Caden had to get on and climb too even though he was a bit too small and uncoordinated to do it well. Caden quickly tired of it but Lucas stuck it out. He got to the highest point, somewhere near the middle, and suddenly got a bit nervous. I knew he could get down himself but he wasn't so sure. He started to get visibly afraid and asked me to come get him. Well, that was WAY easier said than done. I couldn't really reach him without climbing up myself or going under the whole structure to lift him out. I tried to talk him into climbing just a step or two further (which he could have totally done) and then he would have seen he could just climb the rest of the way down. But seeing that he was getting all worked up, I got on my hands and knees and crawled under the ropes to lift his feet up and help him take the next step over. Once he saw he could do it, he crawled all the way down and then did the whole thing, start to finish, several times more. But had I not been there to help him over the hurdle, I'm not sure how long he would have stayed at that point that he thought he couldn't cross.

I stood there watching him and was reminded of a poignant phrase a friend had recently shared with me. We were talking about motherhood and she was sharing with me the things that she prays for when she asks God to help in her interactions with her children. She continually prays that she would be a "soft place for them to fall." A soft place for them to fall. This phrase has been floating around my head ever since.

I am still very much trying to figure out what this means for me as a mother, how I can become this for my boys. But as I think about it, two things are jumping out at me. First, that they will fall. And I need to be OK with that. They need to fall. It is a healthy part of growing, both physically and emotionally and spiritually, etc... I can't stop them from having moments when gravity or the world or their first crush or their parents disappoint them. They will fall off their bikes and they will have moments of disillusionment with school and life and people they love. But my job as mother is not to prevent those moments. It is simply to be a soft place for them to fall when they do occur.
And what does it mean to be a soft place for them? This is such a visual image for me that I am having trouble putting it into words. But I think it means being open and available for them. It means creating a relationship with my sons in which they know if they are ever in need that I am here. It means holding them and letting them be mad or upset- letting them feel what they are feeling and not just smooth over that part. It means giving them tools to deal with the "fall" and the strength to get back up. Being a soft place for my boys is being that place of unconditional love where they can be exactly who they are and feel safe and cherished no matter what else is going on around them.

More practically (and most pertinent to the present), to be a soft place for them I need to put aside my own frustrations with their behavior and learn to deal in private and not in front of them. The whining of my very sensory-sensitive 4yr old drives me insane. He gets very upset when his yogurt drips on his hands or the table among lots of other things. He is a very smart boy with very specific ideas of how things should go. If we deter from that, he sometimes has a hard time. And admittedly, these quirky things about him get to me at times. But in my quest to be a "soft place" for him, I need to accommodate him as much as I can and gracefully teach him to "chill out" when I simply can't (or shouldn't) bend to all his requests.

Like I said, I am still asking God to show me the ways I can be a "soft place" for my boys. I keep trying to picture myself as a cloud that comes up around them and protects them from harm or eases their load. And so far, keeping mindful of this phrase, this prayer, is helping me be more aware of my interactions with them and the ways I am not living this way yet. My prayer is that God would help me see the times when they need me to crawl under them and give them that little boost they need to get over whatever hurdle is in their path. And that God would give me the grace and wisdom I need to be their "soft place" when they need one.

Lord, make me a soft place for them to fall.




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Push-Pull

I am in a stage of life where things could be leveling out a bit. Could.

The boys are just great. I mean, really great. Parenting is hard but I get lots of hugs and "I love yous" and that covers a multitude of frustrations. I love being with them but also watching them from afar. I have moments of sheer bliss and then others when I feel like I am totally failing them as their mother. My head is filled with thoughts of "how should I ..." and "what is the best way to ..." I want to raise them right and love them well and have them be joyful, respectful, balanced men who grow up to love others well and serve God. How do I get there?.... still figuring that one out.

This Lupus thing is a strange beast. Just when I thought I knew what was going in, yet another curve ball seems to be thrown my way. New symptoms, recurrence of some old ones. Hearing the words 'chronic-illness' come off my tongue of anyone's around me makes me want to vomit. I am so-very-far from having this whole thing figured out and that is frustrating. But I am keeping perspective (most of the time) and trying to make good decisions.

You see... it all boils down to this: There are a few things in my life that are really important to me. My boys top that list... my faith, my husband, my friends and family. Add to that list being respected by others, doing something meaningful with my life, trying to live the best life possible. I want to be a good friend, a great wife and mom. A good daughter and sister and daughter-in-law and sister-in-law. I want to be a success, to be fit, a good cook.

So here I am, in a place where life could be leveling out, and yet I am here still very much trying to figure out what that may look like. I want to sign the boys up for enriching things but yet I want to be at home with them just playing cars and reading books. I want to take them to the zoo and every children's museum within a 2hour radius but my body won't always cooperate. I want to fill our days and yet I am a better mom when I am not rushed or pressed. I want to have coffee and dinners out with friends, to go to women's bible studies, romantic dates with the Hubby. But more often than not, all I really want to do is lay on the couch and rest. Push-Pull.

I am an introvert who loves (and tries to nurture) community. I am a purposely busy mom who cherishes the slow days/nights. I am a couch-potato, diet-pepsi drinker at heart who desperately wants to be fit and healthy. I have Lupus but that doesn't define (all of) me.

I am a woman, child of God, busy mom. Trying to figure out how to be what I can for everyone who needs or desires a piece of myself. Filtering out things that clutter our life and prioritizing things that enrich it and not letting unhealthy thoughts or influences make those decisions for me. Deciding when to go out and when to stay in and not feel guilty for either one. Asking God to show me what His definition of meaningful is for my life. For my family.

Push-Pull.



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An Anxious Beginning

I start my new job tomorrow. Yes, I decided to do it. Take the plunge, take a risk, walk in faith. I have prayed and worried so much about this decision. Is it right for me? Is it right for my boys? For our family? Should I wait 'til they are older or not let this opportunity pass me by?
I worked hard to arrange the logistics for the boys and get everything set for tomorrow, my first day. And yet here I sit having MAJOR cold feet. I am excited for the job itself and I know the boys will be fine. They will be with Hubby most of the day. I am just really nervous about leaving Caden and I am nervous about Lucas feeling comfortable with someone else picking him up and being dropped off at a new house. But, I mostly feel all those things will turn out fine. Logistically.

Truthfully, my nerves are one part logistics and nine parts emotions. I was fighting off tears tonight as I explained tomorrow's day to Lucas. It started to hit me that I won't be there to pick him up or hear about his day. I won't be there. My life is shifting. I am delegating the care of my children to other people so that I can go to work and focus on my career and make more money to pay off debt and get us back on a little more solid ground. I know that Caden will cry when I leave him and I will have to just walk away and get in my car. That is going to break my heart. I am sure he will settle down. But will I? As I cooked dinner tonight and Caden just wanted me to hold him, I felt my heart breaking a little just thinking about leaving him.

I know it will all take some time to get used to. Transitions are always like that. I am not giving up before I start just because I am feeling nervous and anxious and a bit guilty. But I am feeling a bit sad, a bit anxious, and maybe a tinge guilty. This new job is not being forced on me. I could have said no and still can at any time. I DO still think this is a good thing for me and for our family right now. We will benefit from the extra money and it is a good move for my career. It even might be a good thing for the boys to get comfortable with other people taking care of them. Just not too comfortable. I am struggling a bit with giving up my role as primary care giver for these boys who are my world. But, it is only a part-time job. I am only working 2-3 days a week but am just feeling the weight of this transition pretty heavy tonight.

These boys are my world. And I want them to grow up knowing that they are my world, not that I left them to the care of others. And if I am being totally vulnerable here, I will admit that part of these nerves are that I feel like I am stepping deeper in that hole of not being 100% anything. Not stay at home mom, not a career girl, not a sold-out blogger, not a persistent business woman....... just a poser trying to be in all those worlds. You know?

I could use your prayers as I take this leap of faith tomorrow and start this new job with a bit of an anxious heart. I trust that God will make it work for all of us or make it clear that it is not going to. I am at least gonna give it a shot and see if my heart will follow my feet. I'll let you know how it goes.


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These Still Moments

I sit in this chair, my baby sweetly nursing to sleep. I know he is not so much a baby anymore but we both still treasure these moments when he is cradled in my arms, being lulled off to sleep by a little warm milk. I love that moment when I can see him slipping into slumber. His eyes start to close, then quickly dart open with one last effort to hold onto the day. But then, he cannot fight it anymore and his eyes close completely. He is not asleep though, but sleep is coming. In this most precious of moments, my baby is deeply connected to me and I to him. So much so, that he is not content to simply be latched on. To be completely relaxed and soothed, he must also wrap his soft, gentle fist around my finger. He squeezes tightly as if he doesn't ever want to let go. Come closer, mama. Don't go anywhere.
I can't hold my phone to text or change the channel on the remote while he is nursing at night. But I wouldn't want to. I might miss this moment and that would just not do. I love this moment. I need this moment. The rest of the day he is a bundle of energy, climbing everything in sight and emptying drawers and cabinets faster than I can run behind him. He doesn't have many words yet but the ones he does have are said with a scream and nothing less. MAMA!!! BABA!!! (his word for his brother) This kid moves non-stop. Except right now. Right now, he is still. I need this still moment. My mommy-heart thrives on it.

He sits in the backseat, tired and quiet. This boy, unlike his younger brother, is so verbose. He just doesn't stop talking! Mommy, what animal is the predator of the eagle? Did you know that dinosaurs that eat only meat are carnivores? I think I am a carnivore. I love to eat meat. I asked Santa for an eagle toy. One that flies and says 'caw, caw'.... You get the point. The cool thing is, his brain moves even faster than his tongue. I love that about him. So even though it is at times tough to get a word in with this kid, in this moment he is quiet. He is still recovering a bit from illness and we have had a busy day. Church and lunch and a fun little mommy-and-me stamping party. I turn my head to see if he has fallen asleep. He is awake, just calm. He sees me looking at him and our eyes meet and he smiles. I say, "I love you Lucas." His grin gets bigger. I love you too, Mommy.
Last night, after his brother was in bed, Lucas sat with me on the couch to read our Advent books. Actually, he started in a different chair watching his latest obsession, Wonder Pets. When he saw me sit, he turned off the TV and came over to snuggle with me. I love this moment. I need this moment. The rest of the day he is a busy little chatterbox who frequently pushes/kicks/squeezes/lays on top of his brother and doesn't ever want to stop what he is doing to pee or eat or obey. He is your typical boundary-pushing, exasperating preschooler. Except right now. Right now, he is still. He is quiet, except for that sweet unsolicited "I love you!" which makes any moment other than this seem to fade into the background. I need this still moment with him sitting in my lap listening to me read. My mommy-heart thrives on it.

I am the mother of 3 boys. One of them I never heard utter a sound. But our eyes met and he squeezed my hand. These other two make nothing but noise all day. And I admit to having my fill of it sometimes. Add in the barking dog and I just may lose my mind somedays. But these moments, these quiet moments, are what keep me. These boys are my heart, my soul. They are no less a part of me and vital to my existence than my own lungs or brain. And when our eyes meet and they sit close and squeeze my hand, I am whole. And I am still.


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Eye, Eye Matey!!

I seem to have this unfortunate inclination towards eye injuries.

When Lucas was just a little older than Caden is now (September '07), he was playing with blocks on the floor and pitched one at me. The block hit me just under my right eye and left me with a pretty serious shiner and a fractured cheek bone. I had a black-eye for just about a month. It hurt like crazy, took forever to heal. But just one of those things right...

Well, this week I experienced eye injury round two. I can't really blame this one on the kiddos, although it was in the evening and both boys were in full toddler-meltdown mode which significantly contributed to my frazzled state-of-mind. I leaned over to pick up a piece of trash off the kitchen floor. I misjudged a box sitting nearby and the corner of the box went right into the corner of my left eye. OUCH!! It immediately started to throb in pain and was totally swollen shut within an hour or so of the injury. I didn't go to the doctor until the next day when my vision was totally blurry in that eye. The opthamologist said it was a one inch long scratch on my cornea and another scratch on the underside of my eyelid. No wonder it felt like sand-paper was in my eye every time I blinked. He put this little "patch strip" in my eye and then a patch bandage over my eye as well (no pics this time... but trust me, I looked ridiculous!). I had to go back the next day to get another internal patch and I have to go back two times this week for the same thing. Eye injuries are NO FUN. Let me repeat, NO FUN! When I had the eye bandage on, I though Lucas would think it was SO COOL seeing how he is so into pirates these days. However, when he saw me, I asked him if I looked like a pirate. His response... "No mommy, you don't have a sword." Oh, well.
It is starting to feel much better, although my eyelid is bruised and I still have blurry vision in that eye (mostly now due to the ointment and drops I have to put in). What is it with me and eye injuries! Raising boys is a contact sport, I suppose. :)



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Mother who works or Working Mother?

Let me start by saying, I miss blogging. I miss feeling like a regularly could process my thoughts and life here and get feedback from my fellow moms. I miss reading blogs and commenting and being part of your lives too. I really hope to get back into my blogging groove soon. Don't give up on me yet. I value you, my blogging (and RL) friends.

Thank you to all of you who chimed in with some great advice and encouragement on my last dilemma. It was so helpful to read your comments as I tried to decide if I should let my little getaway be the time for weaning Caden or try to hold on to nursing for a bit longer. As it turned out, I did pump twice a day while I was gone. Caden did great with no nursing (and no bottles either, the stubborn little fool) for the almost 5 days we were gone. Then when he saw me, he picked it right up as if we had never been apart. In fact, he wanted to make up for lost time. I do think that my milk supply and hormones were affected by the break. I have some further evidence to that end that I won't share here. TMI. But, Caden is still nursing and I am glad he is. But I didn't let the pumping get in the way of our fun. We had a fabulous time celebrating a big Gators win and our 10yr. anniversary.

With that dilemma behind me, I move on to the next.

I am a nurse part-time in a cardiac interventional lab (angioplasty, etc..) . I love my job, I love what I do. I worked really hard to get here and so I feel good that I am keeping my foot in the door and keeping my skills and knowledge current and using my hard-earned degree. Not to mention that the extra $$ helps our budget tremendously. We would have to live MUCH tighter without my income. And although I only work one day a week, I have always thought that once the boys got a little older and in school, I would probably increase my hours a bit.
In an unexpected turn of events, I am now faced with a work-decision that I didn't expect to have to make for several years still. I am being asked by some of the MDs that I work with to join a fairly prestigious sub-specialty team within my department. It would be a great move for my career and I am very honored that they want me. It would also mean more $$ and a few other perks too. No brainer, eh? Not so fast.
The rub of this new job is that I would have to work Tuesdays and Thursdays- Lucas' preschool days. I currently work Tuesdays and my mother-in-law drops off and picks up Lucas from preschool on those days. To take this job, I would have to give up MY day of being involved in his preschool life AND I would have to find someone I trust to pick him up and watch Caden while he is in school. I would be able to take Lucas to preschool. This new team is so determined to have me jump on board that they are willing to let my work day start after I take Lucas to preschool. And Hubby gets home from work around 1pm so the boys would be with Daddy in the afternoons (which is awesome!). But still...
I chose this preschool for Lucas because of how caring in involved the teachers are. The pick up process is very experiential with the parents having to come and stand next to their child and the teachers coming to each mom to tell them something their child did that day. It is great and I would miss it.
Beyond the added stress of finding childcare that day and not being involved in Lucas' preschool life, I feel like this is a mental shift that I was not prepared for. I feel like I am going from a "stay-at-home mom who works one day a week" to a "part-time working mother" which feels WAY different.
I can tell myself I would be doing it for them, for the family. More money to pay off all our debt and be able to do more things as a family. But truthfully, it is really about me. It is MY career and wanting to do this for ME. Which isn't a bad thing. Not at all. But I am really feeling the tug. I am torn. I do want to take this job. I would have a hard time turning it down. And yet, I want to be there for Lucas and be a part of his preschool experience and not miss a minute of his life. He won't be 3 much longer and I have the rest of my life to work.

AHHHHH!!! What should I do?

Honestly, I am leaning towards taking the job. If. If I can find a childcare/preschool pick up solution I am comfortable with. If I don't chicken out. It would mean some stressful weeks for me as I am trained and learning this new specialty. I would have to spend a fair amount of time outside work studying to be at the top of my game. But that's not bad either, right. Some priorities would have to shift. Things would change a little around here if mommy works 2days a week and needs to study when I am home. The good news is, my days/hours are only fixed until the end of the spring. After I am trained, I have been told I can work whatever days and hours I want. I just have to figure out a way to make it work in the meantime.

I know this is a spoiled problem. In this economy, there are people who need work worse than I do. And I know that my children are well-loved and nurtured and cared for- even if I had to put them in daycare or something one day a week. But spoiled or not, this is weighing heavy on my heart. I just want to make the right decision for myself and my boys.

I know God will help me make the right decision. And as we try to put the pieces in place, I am hoping it will become clear whether or not this is the right thing for our family. Your prayers are, as always appreciated. :)



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Am I unintentionally weaning?

As I write this, Hubby and I are driving to Jacksonville from my parents' house in Ft. Walton Beach to go to the Gator game. Hooray!! This is one of the biggest games of the year and I have ALWAYS wanted to go. This is the beginning of our 10th wedding anniversary celebration. After the game we are driving to a house on the beach for a couple days before we head back to my parents' to pick up the boys. 4 kid-free days, a Gator game, time on the beach, sleeping in, lots of quality time with Hubby... It is gonna be awesome!

There is just one thing I am a bit concerned about. And, truthfully, I am not sure there is anyone left reading this blog as I have been so unfaithful to post lately. But if there is anyone reading this, I could use your input.
I have never left Caden overnight before. And while he has been doing great at sleeping through the night lately, I feel a little nervous about it. I know he'll be fine. He adores my parents and they'll keep him occupied and soothed. I am not really worried about that. I am worried about the nursing. I left my pump at home so I went and bought a cheapie hand pump so I could attempt to pump while I am gone. But, will 4 days of no nursing be the end of nursing for Caden and I? Will he be done or will he pick it back up as soon as he sees me?
And even if he wants to, will there be anything there for him after no baby stimulating milk production for 4 days?
He is almost 15 months so it wouldn't be the end of the world for him to be weaned. But I am not ready and he still nurses several times a day. At least he used to. Lucas nursed until almost 2 so I thought Caden and I had more time.
I am trying to mentally prepare myself that this may be the end of nursies. And it would REALLY be the end since Caden is most likely my last baby. Should I let this be the weaning process for Caden or be diligent to pump several times a day with this little hand pump and try to hold on?
I can't save any milk pumped 'cuz I have no way to get it home. It would be pumping just to try to keep the milk flowing. And if you know me, you know that I HATE pumping and I'm not super good at it.
Thoughts? Anyone? I could use your advice and/or encouragement. If anyone is still there, I mean. :)
Thanks for sticking with me if you are here.
And Go Gators!! Beat Georgia!!



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Making all time Quality Time

I should be in bed, but I got a good nap today and I can't turn away from the endless documentaries on TLC about overweight people and mystery illnesses.
My mind is racing through lists of things that need to happen this week. Errands to run, blog posts to write, activities to plan.
But there is more than that going through my mind.

It has been awhile since I have shared with y'all about what is really going on with me. As with almost every mother I know, life right now is complicated. I have a lot on my plate and am trying to do everything well. That is a task in itself. But what is really going on with me?

I am trying to get my priorities straight. I feel like I have been saying that for a long time. But at this point, I feel like I am putting things in place and taking some necessary steps to really do it this time. In an attempt to not just survive but actually to thrive in this over-scheduled/over-committed life of mine, I am adding a few more things to the schedule. Yes, adding. I am adding in scheduled time for myself. Non-to-do list, non-children, non-housework time. And similar time for Hubby too. And on top of that, we are scheduling date nights (*GASP*). At least one a month but two this month because it is our 10th wedding anniversary next weekend (Hooray!!). And I am going to bed at more reasonable hours (usually!). I am healthier and more productive when I am rested and have had a little time to myself. Isn't that true for almost everyone? Is it true for you?

I am focusing on being present in the moment, whatever that moment is. It is so easy for me to get caught up in the list of things to-do that I am never fully doing any one thing at a time. When sewing my slings, I am thinking of the million other things that I need to do and not enjoying the sewing. When playing with my boys, I am thinking about blogging or checking e-mail or doing things for my business. So, I have started keeping master lists and charting out my days. This may seem incredibly tedious to you, but I had to find someway to order the whirlwind that is my brain sometimes. If I have a list of things I have to do, I can glance at it a couple times a day and see what I can check off and I can add to it as things come across my mind. That way, I can sit and play trucks with Lucas and not worry that I am going to miss something or screw something up.

I have also started asking myself a very important question: Why? Why am I a blogger? Why do I make and sell slings? What are the benefits and reasons for the things that I choose to spend my time on? Ultimately, most things come down to my boys and my own personal enjoyment. I started sewing slings because I truly love to sew (and love babywearing) and I need it to get back to that. I blog because I love the outlet that it is and the community that it provides. I need that to remain true and not get caught up in "having to blog." When tasks become too "tasky," I enjoy them less and the stress becomes too much. So, I am working at getting life back to a manageable place of enjoying the things I do and not feeling obligated. And if I say I am doing something (ie: business or blogging related things) because they contribute to my ability to stay home and be a mom to my boys but they are actually taking too much time away from that, then I am trying to reassess the structure and commitment level of those things. Does that make any sense?

Overall, I am trying to get a handle on life. Life that has felt like a storm for the past 5years. Life that started to feel under control before I got pregnant with Caden and it took another twist on this emotional roller coaster. Life that is once again getting back to that place of level ground. I am figuring out what I want to be included and how best to manage it all. I am making quality time my priority. Or better yet, I am making it my priority to make all time quality time. Whether it be alone or with my boys or checking things off the to-do list, I am trying to learn how to make the most of every moment. Don't let me fool you that I have this figured out yet. Quite the opposite. But I am trying and for the first time in a long time I feel like I am getting somewhere.

It becomes more and more clear to me everyday that I am a work in progress. That God is shaping me and teaching me and using my challenges to force me to drop the "I am so capable" act and rely on Him like He asks me too. So much easier said than done. But God is helping me live life not as a victim of my circumstances but as one who chooses joy.

Maybe this is all just the nap talking. Man, I need to go to bed!



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Raising my Tender Bully (aka: My need for God's Grace)

Today has been one of those days where I feel like I have no idea what I am doing in regards to motherhood. Lucas woke up at 5 and was up for good. Which meant all of us were up. I have been fighting a sinus infection and ear infection and one of the most horrible headaches of my life. Caden took a decent morning nap which gave Lucas and I some good time to play together. But, by 10:30 I was out of steam and the day was just getting going.

I'm sure it goes with the territory of having 2boys, or maybe just 2kids, but Lucas is just so rough with Caden. I seriously hear myself a hundred times a day telling Lucas "Be Gentle!" or "Don't throw things!" or "Do NOT kick your brother" or "Why did you just knock him over?" Sometimes it is overzealous affection. He loves to lay on top of him or hug him a little too vigorously. Other times, it is because Caden was simply looking at his cars or "in the way."
On days like today, I just can't deal. I get SO TIRED of correcting him. I do try to let them "be boys" and be a little rough and tumble. I can't police every moment and I know that is part of being brothers and being boys. I want them to be close and have fun together and I know that sometimes Lucas is really just trying to engage with Caden and he just doesn't know his own strength. But, that is not really the problem.
The real problem is me.

I have derailed this mommy-train somewhere along the line. I know that when I get frustrated with Lucas and even with Caden, I am not good at controlling my emotional outbursts. Caden is SO clingy. He wants to be physically touching me, climbing on me, held by me ALL the time. And sometimes even this babywearing, co-sleeping mama just reaches my limit. Lucas is SO whiny. He doesn't want to stop playing long enough to get dressed or go potty or come to a meal. So when I ask him, he whines and cries as if I am pulling out his toenails or something. And on days when I am overtired and not feeling 100%, my tolerance for these things is almost nill.
I see Lucas playing with his trains and he is so rough. Crashing and smashing them together with his voice raised and using words like "dominate" and other aggressive language. Part of that is being a little boy. I get that. But that can't be the whole story. He is rough with his toys, rough with his brother, with the dog, with his friends. He is just a rough little boy at times. And I don't know how we got here.

During this self-indulgent pitty-party, I start feeling frustrated that I am not able to keep it together. Lucas' whining and rough behavior just sends me to the edge of insanity. However, it is becoming more and more clear that much of this current issue is due to my own "roughness" and not so much his. I know that my lack of self-control when my children frustrate me or are naughty has rubbed off on my 3yr. old and I don't know how to un-do that.

The irony of this is, this bully is not my Lucas. He is a sweet, very tender kid who loves to be cuddled and read to. He chooses me over everyone. He talks about missing me when I am away, and missing his brother Micah whom he has never met. Last weekend Hubby told him that one of the gorillas at the zoo went to Heaven. Lucas got really sad and said through tears that he just wanted to go see that gorilla one more time. He had no idea what gorilla we were talking about he just knows the concept of missing someone/something and he gets very emotional about it. His heart is as big as they come and we have some of the tenderest moments together that a mother could ever hope for.
Days like today feel so out of control, like I am doing all I can to keep my head afloat. I am simply responding to life and not in any way able to direct it. I am putting out little fires instead of being able to focus on fire prevention. You know what I mean? I just sometimes feel like I have failed him.
I tell him constantly that I love him. That he gives the best bear hugs. That I cherish having him close to me. I kiss his head and comb his hair with my fingers. We talk about everything and I love to hear his stories that come out of his imagination-driven mind. I love the moments when he is being a little boy and not so under constraint. But yet, I yell WAY too much and am not always good at keeping him stimulated. Also, he's never slept well (neither really do), is resisting potty-training and gets so rowdy when bored. He is stubborn, oh-so stubborn. But most of these things seem to directly indicate some sort of mothering-insufficiency. We are very slowly making progress with potty training and have been cooped up in this house all winter. So maybe I am over-dramatizing this in my mind. I tend to do that too. The moments when it is just he and I or when he can be outside running free seem to be without this drama.

Hubby graciously took the boys out for an hour this afternoon so I could have a quiet house to hopefully quiet my soul and my headache a bit. Our day ended with Lucas and I laying on the floor together reading books before bed, his head resting sweetly on my chest. As I prayed for him and sang his "Jesus songs," he innocently turned to say "I love you Mommy."
I just pray that the moments I tell him I love him or that I am sorry for getting frustrated with him ring more loudly in his ears than my over-emotional behavior corrections. I hope that he will see my imperfections, my rough edges, and then see our need for God. I can't smooth out my own edges, much less my son's, without God's grace. I may fail him in other ways, but I hope that I can at least be a living example to him in that way.

Any advice on how to raise my tender bully without breaking his spirit, or mine?


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Progress, I think.

After I wrote this last night, I sat on the couch - thinking, praying, regretting just a bit that I had dumped all my insecurities and issues out for all to see and judge. Feeling a little guilty for sounding so dreary and making it seem like I am never happy. I really can be a fun girl, I swear.
Then I read this from one of my dearest friends. Yes, that is me too. Weary, tired, sometimes unable to see things for how they truly are. That post reminded me of this one by another dear friend. Also me- so grateful for those special moments when your heart can hardly contain the pride and joy and blessing and depths of love for these boys.
So I sat on my couch, thinking and watching Caden sleep nearby. His precious little baby head covered in fuzzy hair except those few long strands on top that never fell out. The sweet sound of his lips smacking in his sleep (must be dreaming of nursies)and the occasional little groan as he adjusts and gets comfortable. Oh that face! I could stare at it forever. The day will come when he is 1, 2,... 10. And maybe life will be more smooth or maybe just differently bumpy. And I will miss looking at and kissing this baby.
[Note to self: Drink this in- cherish these moments, bumps and all. ]

I picked up my sleeping baby and headed upstairs for bed. This is what I found:

I don't know when Lucas went into my bed, but there he was all snuggled under my covers sleeping with daddy (who had NO IDEA he was there!). I gently woke him and led him back to his own bed. "I came to look for you, Mommy. I was missing you in my sleep," he said as we walked the short hall back to his room.
I sat next to his toddler bed supporting Caden as he nursed with one hand and rubbing Lucas' legs with the other. My weariness may cause me to miss some things, but this moment was not lost on me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath- you know, one of those breaths where you can feel the air expanding your lungs and the stress just melting away. A cleansing breath, and with it comes renewal and awareness and peace. Before I know it, Lucas will be 3,4,5...15. And I will miss his sweet expressions of love for me and his sincere desire to just be with his mama.

Motherhood is hard. So very hard. And days like yesterday simply reinforce the truth that I cannot do it on my own. None of us can. I am fortunate to have some very sweet friends who left encouraging words for me, came over to watch my boys for an hour so I could go for a walk, and have always tried to walk beside me no matter what. Friends like that are good for my soul. And we have just entered the season of Lent, the time of the church year when we are preparing for Easter and acknowledging our need for God. My need for God feels very real right now. More real than it has in a long time. And I think that too is good for my soul. I am a work in progress with pretty regular set backs. But progress none the less. And God's hand on me is never as evident as when the final moments of a really rough day are spent cradling my sleeping angels and drinking in the beauty of the moment.
[Note to self: spend more moments taking deep breaths and letting the beauty sink in and less time worrying about all that may or may not happen in the next moment.]

P.S.~I have said all along that this blog is my journey, both good and bad. It is where I share my passions, my joys, my tears and frustrations - my life. It is where I vent my bad days and share my good ones. I am honored that anyone would want to read it. So, thank you if you do. It is therapy for me and maybe, just maybe, it can be helpful to someone else. If you are reading, I would love to follow your journey too. Thanks for joining me on mine, even if the road is a bit bumpy sometimes.

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

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Bump after Bump

Today has truly been one of the suckiest days I have had in awhile. Although I am beginning to believe that something about me or my choices or the way I live my life makes me more prone to days like today. Could that be true? Am I imagining it? Does trouble find me more than it finds others? It sure seems that way.
Before I sum up the suck-fest that was today, let me first say that yesterday was better. It was Wednesday, thus a BibleStudy day. I made it to BibleStudy (on time, with all 3 of us clean and dressed) but the house looked like a tornado went through and the BibleStudy homework was only half done. But I decided that it was worth it to try to go anyway, and I did (I am patting myself on the back as I speak). And I am glad I did. I had a good time and Lucas came home spouting knowledge about Elijah and Elisha and how they were prophets of God and..... I felt like I had done the right thing and that felt good. And the funny thing is, the kitchen got cleaned eventually and I tidied during nap time and we even made it to an Ash Wednesday service. Progress, right?

Maybe not. That just brings us to today. Here is how it went: 5am wake up call from Lucas, speeding ticket on the way to the pediatrician, Caden gets shots, Hubby gets home and we have a huge fight about finances, Lucas won't nap, pediatrician calls- the nurse made a mistake and gave Caden the WRONG SHOTS (not a huge deal- mostly just have to watch and make sure he doesn't get measles or mumps or rubella in the next few weeks due to over exposure to the pathogens- just not what I needed today), did I mention Lucas won't nap, rush to a preschool open house in a torrential downpour,...
AHHHH... I can't take anymore. It has been "one of those days." But I feel like I have them WAY too often.
Something is not right. Life shouldn't be this complicated. Or should it? Is this just what life is- a series of challenging days, one after another with some good ones thrown in to keep us going? OR is this just my life? My life with young kids and juggling 50 million other things. My life with precious little sleep and a hubby who has an insane work schedule and little time to be with the fam. My life with high expectations that I set for myself but very rarely reach.

The last five years have not really gone the way I would ever have anticipated. Six years ago I was working full time as a nurse manager, the youngest one that hospital had ever had. I had a great career, I was good at my job and I loved it. I loved my husband, my job, my church, my life. It was at the point when we decided to go off birth control and try to start our family that life began to take a very different path. Feb '03-Feb '09: I had surgery to remove some very large ovarian tumors, I got pregnant with Micah, Micah went to be with Jesus, we bought a new house and I had to change jobs 'cuz the commute got too brutal, started looking into adoption due to our potential genetic issues, we got a dog 'cuz I needed something to nurture, we got pregnant with Lucas, transitioned to parenthood, thought we were done having kids, got pregnant with Caden, .... blah, blah, blah! Now here I am- working part-time and trying to run a very small business and trying desperately to be a good mom and wife and friend and household manager and housechurch member- and not feeling like I do ANY of it well.
Is it possible that losing Micah sent me into a tail-spin from which I have yet to recover? It feels to me that I have lost my ability to handle sucky days with any amount of grace. I get in this "poor me" mindset. "Why me?" Or more accurately "Of course this would happen to me!"

(Wow. I am depressing myself. I have probably lost all of you. Where am I going with this? )

You will probably tell me I am normal, that this happens to everyone. I'm not sure I believe you. It seems to happen more often to me, but that may be the tail-spin talking. It feels like too much, not normal, in need of SOMETHING to change. But what? Is there something about me, the life choices I have made, that makes me more susceptible to life's bumps?

If I am honest with myself, I would love nothing more than to stay home all the time and have enriching, nurturing moments with my family with the occasional time away for myself and the occasional outing with friends. I would love to not worry about our finances (which I do) or worry if I am doing what I should. I would love to make enough selling slings and working one day a week to help provide for my family so we can feel free. I would love to feel like I live life well, that I spend enough time with my boys and with Hubby and with God and by myself. I would love for days like today to not take me down to zero but that I would be able to take them in stride and say "there's always tomorrow." I would love to be able to live in the moment, cherishing the richness and adventure of life with my boys. I want to sit and enjoy a story or a puzzle with Lucas and watch Caden learn to crawl and cuddle with Hubby on the couch. I want life to feel mostly smooth with the occasional bump. I want things to feel, to BE, manageable.

I think I do have days like that. I think. Today was not one of them, but there are days when I feel like I have done life well. And then there are days that feel like bump after bump. Maybe the smooth life comes with time.

Lord, please help me live in the moment, whether bumpy or smooth, and deal gracefully with my days either way.


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This Girl

It is 10:22am and things are already out of whack. I am sitting on the futon in the basement with Caden sleeping in the carseat, Lucas playing on his train table, the pup quietly chewing his bone next to me, and the Merry Maids upstairs cleaning my bathrooms. What could be wrong with this picture, you ask? Sounds pretty serene. Well, the problem is it is Wednesday and I am supposed to be at bible study.

I thought I was doing well. I finished the bible study homework last night, I got up and got boys breakfast and got in the shower and actually fixed my hair (and put on an outfit that required a belt- a step up from my norm of yoga pants and tank top) and pre-cleaned the house for the Merry Maids (you know, dishes off the counter and clutter put away and all that so they can actually CLEAN). I nursed Caden, got the boys dressed, changed a last minute poopy diaper and got everyone in the car. I drove to church and realized I forgot the stroller so I had to carry a heavy, sleeping Caden in the carseat to keep him asleep. So I then lugged Lucas and the carseat and the diaper bag through the parking lot and into the church, down to the tunnel that leads to the childcare. At this point, Lucas is already saying he is sad for me to leave him and begging me to stay with him in his class. Oh, and did I fail to mention that I am 20min late already. I almost just drove right past. What is the point?, I thought. But I was just this weekend telling a friend that I am really trying to stick it out this time and not be a chronic bible study failure dropout. So I tried to press on. But standing there in the church walkwayI asked myself again... What am I doing? I am making a spectacle out of myself and my children. Why can I not get my act together?

At this point, to continue on would mean lugging the heavy carseat all the way back to L's class, coaxing him to stay in his class, then lugging the carseat back to my group meeting to walk in at least 25min late and sit there for 25min while trying to keep Caden asleep and maybe get something out of the bible study discussion. Then schlep myself up to the big group where Caden would probably wake up and want to nurse anyway. Then pack us all up to walk back and get Lucas and then walk back to the car. FORGET IT!!! I do not want to be "that girl" today. You know, that girl whom everyone is staring at saying to themselves how glad they are not to be me... whispering to their friends, "Man, that girl needs to get it together." Or maybe they are saying, "that poor girl... she is a HOT MESS!" Even if they aren't saying it, I am.

I feel like moms with more do it better. And I just can't seem to GET MY SHIT TOGETHER!! What is wrong with me? I probably could have made it there on time it I didn't shower or didn't pre-clean the house or didn't take the 20min to feed my baby. But I couldn't leave the house without any of those things happening. So I did them all and it just didn't work. I couldn't get it all done and still show up at bible study with every hair in place and ready to say something deeply spiritual that all the women would "amen" to. I guess I am just not "that girl." You know, the one who no matter how many children or commitments, she has always seems to look put-together and be on-time and show up with fresh baked cookies and a beautifully wrapped present for the girl in the group that just had a baby. I want to think I am that girl. But I am more often the former, the hot mess.

Walking back to the car, Lucas said "what happened at Bible Study today, mommy?" "Mommy just couldn't get her act together today. I'm sorry, Buddy. I just tried to do too much this morning." His reply was, "Mommy I love going to bible study with you and then turning around to go back to our car so we can just be together. That makes me happy." I had to smile.

It does kinda put it all in perspective though. What is the point? The point is... well, I guess it is to do what is best for my boys and myself. And sometimes that may be making it to bible study but today was not one of those days. I was forcing it because I did not want to admit I couldn't get it all done or to be seen as a Bible study dropout (again!!) to the women in my group. But those aren't good reasons. My sanity, a quiet moment with my boys in the car, sitting and watching Lucas play and the pup happily cuddled next to me, Lucas happy to just be with me,... those are the good reasons.

It doesn't change the feeling of being a bible study dropout. It feels icky, like failing, like I am not the women that I am trying to convince myself I am. But here comes that word again.... MARGIN! I need it. And when I don't build it in, somehow it seems to push in and I just have to stop pushing back. I don't like that my bible study seems to be the thing that needs to get cut. I guess I need to find a different way to build some spiritual formation into my week. But this 9:15 bible study just isn't it. At least not today. There's always next week.

I do feel good that in all the rushing I didn't lose my patience with Lucas (which tends to happen). Maybe (hopefully) my calmness amidst chaos is due to some recent refreshment and downtime. It also feels right that in this moment I can see that sitting here is what is best. I have a clean house, clean hair, and happy boys. Not too bad. I am content to be this girl for now. We'll work on the rest another day.

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I Am My Baby's Best Friend

He fiercely grabs my face and gives me open-mouth baby kisses on my cheeks and chin. He holds onto my hair as if he is afraid I will try to get away. He smiles when he sees me and has the most adorable laugh when I kiss his belly. He has even started to say "ma" (I swear!!). I am my baby's best friend... and I love it!! There is only one problem. He doesn't seem to want to be friends with many others at this point. On my one workday every week, he hold out all day long, refusing to take a bottle or anything else until I get home and he can nurse. He screams until he gets tuckered out and then wakes from his nap hungry. So he starts to cry again. I can't take it. I am not there to hear the crying, but it is still torture for me to be at work knowing that he is with Grandma but wanting Mommy.

He cries when I leave his sight. He can be ok with other people. And he is sometimes. He just very obviously prefers mama. Which is fine with me, to a point. I love the nuzzles and kisses and baby-hugs with his arms flung around my neck. But, I do need him to be ok with daddy and even on his own now and then. He will grow out of it. He will. But, now that I think about it, Lucas still prefers to be with me over anyone else (most of the time). I love this about my boys. I probably wouldn't really have it any other way. I am banking on the hope that I am laying a solid foundation of love and trust and relationship with my boys so that when the day comes that they are ready to leave my nest, they will always want to come back and be with me.



I am my baby's best friend. And my toddler's too. It is exhausting, but priceless.

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Lessons in Margin

Almost weekly in college, I was given the assignment in one class or another to write a one-page reflection paper about a book or article or experience, etc... One page. No more, no less. Probably in part because the professor didn't want to read 5million pages of random thoughts. But there was also value in learning to condense and edit your thoughts into one, concise page. I am sure I was not the only one who wrote my paper and then played with the font and page settings until I made it all fit on one page. Most of the time to do that, I had to reduce the page margins to the very minimum allowed, defeating one of the main objectives of the exercise. I find myself doing the same thing lately, although this time it is not the margins of my paper I am cutting. It is the margin of my life.

I have alluded before that I am currently reading some very clarifying books, trying desperately to get life back to a manageable place. Before the holidays, our counselor introduced us to the concept of personal margin- the space you give yourself, build into your life, so that you are not constantly living on the verge of overload or, even worse, complete breakdown. That was me. Is me. I do live life constantly on the edge of insanity, keeping my head above water but sometimes just barely. I try hard to cram so much "life" into my days that I am missing life. Does that make sense to anyone? Metaphorically, I am typing out my paper, putting in all the thoughts and paragraphs I think make it a better piece. But in the end, my one page paper turns into three. Instead of cutting out the things that don't need to be said or could be said a better way, I reduce the margins.

I cut, and cut, and cut... until there is no margin to spare. "I can add this one more thing, this one playdate, this one extra commitment or project or...." You get the idea. It is the whole "camel's back" scenario.

Well, enough. I am taking back my margin, one cut at a time.

It usually takes things coming to a crisis moment for me to remember why I have to vigilantly protect my space. One such moment came today. I have to beginnings of a sinus infection, no food in my pantry, a messy house, a toddler that has resumed his habit of getting up a 2:30am.... all while planning a toddler valentine party, potty-training, managing my baby that won't nap, trying to pick a preschool, re-teach Caden to take a bottle, planning some upcoming travel, going on a playdate with a good friend, coffee with another... AHHHHHHH! All good and real parts of life. But all together, too much. At least for me. There may be some women who can manage all these things with a hand tied behind their back and do it with grace and time to spare. But not me. I need more margin than that.

I stood in the kitchen this afternoon and cried. Overwhelmed, tired, feeling sick,... My sweet sympathetic little man says, "mommy, don't cry. Jesus loves you. I love you, mommy." That makes me feel a little better (how could it not!).

Then Hubby made dinner, let me nap for 30min, and then gave Lucas a bath and did bedtime while I schlepped my exhausted (and self) to a local coffee shop to meet a friend and get out of the house. It was another thing to do, but actually did wonders for my sanity. So did coming home and cleaning the house a bit while Caden (thankfully) continued to sleep.

My life margins are still smaller than they need to be. But I am getting there. I am learning what things need to be cut and how to best manage the rest. And I know that there will always be extra things that pop-up or cannot be avoided. But the good thing about building in margin, is that when they do, I will be ready. I will be better equipped to handle it because I will have room instead of constantly living at the intersection of overloaded and overwhelmed.

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