I don't know about you, but I can get overwhelmed fairly quickly.

   Sometimes it just feels too hard to be good.  A good wife, a good mom, a good daughter, a good sister, a good in-law, a good aunt, a good friend, a good neighbor, a good Christian....we fill SO many roles and we want to be good at ALL of them!  We want to be GREAT.

    But we're human and so of course we fail, and fall, and stumble all over ourselves and make a mess of things more often than we don't.  We try to do it on our strength and so we pull up our bootstraps and we read more inspiring articles, and we feel like we maybe are getting this whole "excellence" thing down...and then we fail again.  And it can just get so overwhelming.

   It doesn't help that every which way you turn, there are a multitude of "solutions" for you, and they're all a little bit different.   Some are simple, some are complex, some are short, some are long, but they all start to stack up on top of each other and pile around me until I begin to feel as if I'll NEVER get it all right.

Those little numbered, bulleted lists just make me want to scratch my eyes out. Lists like:

10 Steps Toward Raising a faith-sharing Child
12 Ways to Pray for your Child's Future Mate
15 Ways to Make Prayer a natural part of your everyday Family Life
15 Ways to Please Your Husband
33 Ways to Spark True Womanhood
50 Promises to Live By

   In full disclosure, those are titles of actual articles on the Revive our Hearts website, and I am actually really interested in checking some of them out.  Ha.  And I'm sure they have great content! It's just with my personality, those numbers start to pile up in my brain and I feel completely overwhelmed after a while.   I get lost in the fog of, "What are the 7 things I should be doing every day, again?  What are those 18 steps to an obedient child?  How do I improve my marriage in 33 days or less?  What are the 4 keys to living a live of peace and joy???"  And I just want to throw up my hands in despair.

   And so when I heard that there is ONE THING to do to be the best parent you can be, my ears perked RIGHT up.  In an earlier post I referenced a podcast I've been listening to lately but I don't think I mentioned what one it was....you can find it over here at the Revive our Hearts website but I just downloaded the app on my phone and listen to it that way.

   Anyway, a few episodes are from an interview by Nancy Leigh DeMoss with Bill & Holly Elliff, and man oh man do I wish I could meet that couple.  He is pastor of the Summit Church in Arkansas, and together they are parents to eight children, and you could just soak in their experience and wisdom all day.  I could listen to them talk about parenting for hours.  At times he was choked up with emotion just talking about his wife and children and the joy in their home.  I hadn't listened to them much longer than a few minutes before it was quite clear to me how much they loved their family, and valued each other.

   But even with their treasure trove of practical tips and parenting advice, for Bill it all came down to one thing, and one thing only, and I cannot tell you how refreshing that was to me to hear.  And here it is, the ONE THING YOU NEED TO DO, TO BE A GREAT MOM:

   "Do everything that is necessary to maintain intimacy with Christ, because everything flows from His presence.  You have Him? You have everything you need." 

   I don't know about you, but hearing that just lifted the heaviest burden off of my shoulders.  It's not about some magical 3-step formula, or the Top Ten list of whatever, it's as simple as intimacy with Christ.  Now do I feel like I've arrived? Like I've achieved that as much as I'd like?  Certainly not.  But recently I have felt my focus shifting from all of the ways I can improve my marriage or my mothering or my whatever, to how I can become more intimate with Christ.  And it's such a relief....to stop focusing on bettering myself and always feeling like a failure, to turning my eyes upon Jesus.

   And I do not have all the answers!  But I realize now that good parenting is not something that I can accomplish by getting all of my ducks in a row.  It isn't a formula, or a recipe.  It is something that flows from the presence of Christ.  What sweet relief. And Bill wasn't the only one with good things to say, his wife Holly had so many, many good points as well.
 
   "Be purposeful in prayer.  Sometimes we not only don't have the answer, we can't even identify the problem.  Sometimes, we just need to be grateful that God has given us access to His endless wisdom. Don't stop short of praying for your children.  How tragic it would be if they have the right kind of tennis shoes, but not a praying mom! Treat your children as though you won't have them next year.  Train your children as though they won't have you next year."  

   I'll leave you with that.  And now I'd love to hear from you!  What are some ways that you maintain intimacy in your relationship with Christ?

 
Baby's first visit to the Oregon coast on Sunday was quite the success.

   We had thought it would be nice to head out there to escape the heat wave we'd been experiencing in the Valley, and so of course on the day we decided to go, it cooled down considerably and was cloudy and overcast and quite pleasant at home.  Oh well.  Any trip to the coast is a good use of time, no matter what the weather, if you ask me.

   We went with friends and it was so fun to catch up on some adult conversation while the dads played in the sand and the waves with the children.  I am so thankful that my little ones have a father who gets down on his hands and knees in the sand with them.  I hope they realize what a privilege that is.
   Although at one point the children had lost all interest and were just off doing their own thing and the dads were so intent on finishing this tunnel that they just continued digging on their own.  See that look of intense concentration on Randy's face?  Having kids along was just sort of an excuse to get all dirty and be kids again themselves, I think.

   William was a trooper.  We left straight from church in the morning and me, being the super organized and prepared-at-all-times-for-any-situation-mom that I am, didn't pack extra clothes for him.  My mom would've suffered a mini heart attack seeing him out on the beach on that cloudy, cool day in a romper and no socks.  But I put on his jacket and snuggled him all up in a sling and wore him close to me, and he slept peacefully for hours.  No bare piggies sticking out, Mom, I promise.


  It was so fun to catch up with my friend that day.  I didn't ask if I could blog about her, so we'll just leave her unnamed.  She is a reader, a writer, a deep thinker, and a working mom, so she is always a lot of fun to talk to, listen to, and get a different perspective from.   I love how honest she is about her strengths, weaknesses, and things that frustrate her.  I think life would be so much easier if we would all just agree to be a little more honest with each other.  Just think of the time and energy and effort it would save that we usually waste on applying that slick, shiny veneer coating over everything on the surface of our lives.

   We talked about many things.....writing, books that don't really help much and books that do, motherhood, responsibilities that a domestic woman's life entails, and other things, like Instagram.  One thing she mentioned that stuck with me and I haven't quite been able to shake was something to the extent of, "Have you noticed how on Instagram, you're only worthwhile if you're really good at certain things?  Things like decorating your home, arranging pretty food, or personal fashion/style?  If those aren't your strengths, than you're not really noticed."

And I'm sure I'm butchering her quote, but it was something to that extent.
All three slept on the way out AND the way back, and the angels sang glory.

   And so we got coffees and talked and had a "driving date" which totally isn't a thing but I'm thinking we should make it a thing?  Because dates are hard to come by these days with busy seasons of work and tiny babies and such.  And so maybe once a week we should just tire the kids out by running laps around the house or something and then load them all up in the car and drive around town.

It's worth a try.

 
Welcome to our world, sweet William.

   Birth stories are always a little bit hard for me to write about....there is something so real and raw and brutal and beautiful about them.  It is the intersection of agony and joy, pain and relief, sorrow and celebration.   There is never a moment in your life more intense, vulnerable, and transforming as the moment when your child is born from your body, and I can't believe I have been blessed enough to experience it three times.

   And so I find it hard to write about my births, because it is difficult to assign mere words to something so profoundly....sacred.  But I also really enjoy capturing them on paper, because memories fade, and I want to remember as much of these moments as I can for the rest of my life.

The other reason it is hard for me to write about my birth stories is because I feel like in our culture today they have become so defining for some reason.  A long time ago, women just gave birth.  In different ways, in different settings, but we just gave birth.

   Today, you fall into all sorts of different categories according to how/where/in what way you give birth.  Natural birth, C-section, home birth, hospital birth...labels are handed out and placed on women when really, we all still just give birth.  No matter how or in what manner or way a new life comes to this earth, the fact still remains....a child is born.  And that is powerful and miraculous and special and deserves to be celebrated!

And so no matter what your story is, it is worth telling.

   I always hope for a natural, intervention-free birth, but I don't write a "birth plan" because I know that births can't really be "planned" as there are many things that are out of our control.  I was induced with Charlotte and although it wasn't my preference, I was OK with that, because it needed to happen for her safety.

   And this time around, it was looking like it would be the same story, with each day drawing me closer to the 42 week mark.  I had been feeling contractions on and off for a week and a half, but they never amounted to anything.  Being overdue wasn't even the hardest part....knowing that each day just took me closer to an induction WAS.

   After they got home from Bible school we planned to leave right away to take the girls to Grandma's for the night, so we would be able to leave straight for the hospital early the next morning for the induction.

AND THIS IS THE COOL PART.

   My sister's family came over around 10:00 pm to have a special time of prayer for us.  They prayed for a safe delivery and prayed specifically that I would be able to go into labor on my own, and avoid being induced.  I have to admit I was so touched by their thoughtfulness, but still felt doubtful. I mean, I only had what, like, 10 hours until the induction was scheduled.  What could possibly happen before then?


    The whole thing only lasted 2.5 hours.  All that time of being overdue and waiting, waiting, waiting was slowly but surely preparing my body for his arrival.  And he certainly entered the world on his own terms!  In a hurry and everything, all 8lbs, 11oz and 21 inches of him.

He was perfect.

 I couldn't stop sobbing once he was in my arms.  The pain, the toil, the agony was over, and only joy remained.  I wanted that moment to last forever.  No drug in the world holds a candle to that high!  It is the most euphoric feeling I have ever experienced.  Why can't we have 300 babies again?!?!

   I have longed for a son.  And he was here!  Really, truly, finally here.  With eyes like his daddy and hair like his mama, and a velvety head both softer and sweeter than dozens of roses.  I held him close and we stayed attached, cord and all, for as long as we could.







   Even weirder still is being able to remember when my parents were in this exact stage of life.  When my mom was 30, she had Shannon, me, and baby Shawn.  I will turn 30 in August and like mom, I have two little girls, and a baby boy.  My girls are younger at 4 and 3, while hers were 6 and 4 but it is still so strange to think of being exactly where my parents were at all those years ago.  My mom went on to have babies all throughout her 30s and into her 40s (her youngest was born at 43!) and I can hardly imagine what that must have been like.  But growing up I never felt like we were a burden to her, or something she just "endured".  She loved her children and raising her family and she did a great job.

 I only hope to do the same.



Sweet William we are so very, very glad you are here.  

   What a miracle you are.  I expected to be a little less in awe this time around, it being our 3rd child.  But it has been the opposite.  I feel more in awe and wonder at this whole indescribable gift of new life than ever before.  You were knit together in my womb by the Master's hand, and you are here now.  A brand-new person.  An arrow and a light to be raised up and sent forth into the darkness, and my heart bursts to think of the plans God has for you.  

You were a million times over, worth the wait.

Dear New Mom (Who Loves her Husband but Doesn't Want to Go out this Weekend),
  
I get it.

   It's that Valentine-y time of the year again, and you're feeling the pressure.  Whoever thought that only guys felt the pressure of Valentines Day obviously never took a survey of any new moms.

  You know you should be wanting to go on that date.  Wanting an excuse to dig those heels out of the closet and head out for a night on the town.  But all you really, truly want to do is throw on a pair of sweats and shoo all of the kids into bed so you can sit down on the couch with some chocolate and watch an overly-emotional Parenthood finale re-run.

I get it because I was there.  Not all that long ago.

   I was in the thick of nursing and newborns and getting-up-every-few-hours and diapers and laundry and messes that seemed to reproduce at night, and going on a fancy date seemed as appealing as scratching my eyeballs out with steel wool.

It just felt like I was never going to want to date again.

  But before the kids and the strollers and the nighttime feedings.....things were different.  Before we ever walked down that aisle on that beautiful April day, said our vows and began procreating, I loved dating.

   My husband was definitely "one of those guys".  Always coming up with the most creative, romantic, unique, fun, amazing dates.  We went on scavenger hunts, hikes, bike rides and walks along the beach.  We enjoyed plays and comedians and picnics by waterfalls.  We drank coffee and browsed bookstores and ate at lovely restaurants that made me feel much classier than I actually am.  He surprised me endlessly with flowers and chocolates and special little gifts and everything felt a little bit like a fairytale.

   And getting ready was one of the best parts.  The evening never seemed to arrive fast enough as I deliberated over outfits spread all over my room.  I fussed with my hair and makeup, spraying perfume and trying on shoes and hoping to get everything just right.  And then....that giddy little feeling when you see his car pull into the drive!  He was here! And you were going out! And all was right with the world.

   Don't get me wrong, it's not that after marrying him and bearing him children that I loved him any less.  In fact, I'm more and more certain with each passing year that I love him MORE.

   But there is still no way around the fact that when you have been wiping spit up off of your shoulder and vacuuming up Cheerios and stumbling around in your sleep-deprived, zombie-like state all day.....dating loses some of its appeal.

    Suddenly a "night-in" doesn't sound anything remotely like "giving up" like I used to think it meant.  It just sounds like a divine appointment with your over-sized sweat shirt and yoga pants and a sexy back massage.  Which to a postpartum woman is pretty much as fancy as you would ever want to get anyway.

And so I guess I say all this to say.......take it easy on yourself.

   If you choose to stay home?  You're not a failure.  Your marriage isn't doomed.  You're not becoming "one of those moms" you never said you would become.  It's OK.  It's a fleeting stage, and it will pass. I know because it changed for me.  And dates sound wonderful and delightful and enticing again, and I even like wearing heels!  So those days will come sooner than you think.  This time of newborns?  Of feeling like a milk machine and auto-pilot robot?  It won't last forever.  And so cut yourself some slack, and stay home if you have to.  You will look forward to dating again, I promise.

   And if you choose to go out?  Good for you! Bravo.  You've done yourself a favor, even if it doesn't feel like it.  It really is so important to carve out that "you-and-me time" with your man, even when a baby is sucking your every resource dry.  You might be checking your phone every 15 minutes to make sure that baby is OK, or worried about leaking through your brand-new dress, but everything is going to be fine.  No one is judging you if you try your best to relax and enjoy yourself but find yourself wanting to cry half of the time.  HORMONES ARE REAL.  

   So just take a deep breath and realize that fancy date or not, it's going to be OK.  You still love each other, you have a beautiful life, and life is too short to freak out over a different phase.  Each phase is fleeting, and beautiful in its own uniquely different, and sometimes difficult, ways.

We aren't all giddy, dating singles.
We aren't all glowing, blushing newlyweds.

   But we still LOVE.  Deeply, passionately, tenderly.  We balance budgets and pay mortgages and step on Legos and find fruit snacks in our purse, but we are still lovers.  We are best friends and companions and help-meets and spouses and MEANT FOR EACH OTHER.  And nothing changes that.  Even if date nights change.

Sincerely,
Me.


Inspiration for this post was found from a picture about date night by Angi Martin on Instagram. 

  I hope I never take for granted, even for a moment, family that will drop everything and help you.  We are blessed by wonderful family on both sides, and what a rich and precious gift that is.

   On one of the evenings my mom was here she let Randy and I go out for a date and we ended up at a coffee shop where I saw a couple with two little girls about our daughters' ages, and so I commented on them and the mom immediately asked me, "Where do you find babysitting?"

   I replied that they were staying with my mom, and she went on to say how difficult it is to find any babysitting and even when they can find someone through an online company, the rates are quite high.  Not to mention you don't even really KNOW those people.  They don't have family around, and there aren't really any options at their church and so they were left with pretty much nothing.

   A young woman sitting on the other side of the fireplace knitting fingerless gloves chimed in our conversation with, "We don't really have family as an option either.   Well, they don't live far away, but they are just not....well.....healthy enough to leave our children with."

   And she said it in an embarrassed sort of way with eye rolling and deep sighs that made it seem as if "health" was more of an addiction, or other issue that they were not comfortable with that was present, prohibiting them from being active in their grandchildren's lives.

It was all so very, very sad.


I felt so convicted.

  I love all of my family, both by blood and by marriage, but oftentimes I find myself bemoaning the fact that we don't live closer, or that we aren't closer relationally, or that we don't get together nearly as much as some other families.  And then I hear these women sharing about how they have NO one in their life to count on, NO ONE to surround them and support them in the raising of their children and the building of their home and I shudder to think that I could ever be anything less than grateful.


   There is a lot of turmoil going on right now for my mom with church issues, raising teenagers, and her job as an Amish midwife's assistant.  And if you choked on that last sentence, TRUST ME, it is another story (or multiple stories) for another time.

   There is much we don't agree on, and much we can't ever seem to understand each other about.  But she is still my Mom.  And I love her.  And I am desperately grateful, that she cares enough about us to take time from her busy life, and come visit.

   She always comes swooping in with elbows flying, dusting and sweeping and cleaning and showing love as she best knows how, Gifts of Service.  She takes the time to rescue the parts of my home and life that are falling into chaos, even when she is stretched thin herself.

And I hope one day to be that lifeline for my girls as well.

Things have been a little quiet around here lately.

   And I would apologize, but I guess that gets a little old, so I won't.  I have a couple on-going projects that seem to be draining me mentally and emotionally, and I just don't have much left for my blog.  And so goes the ever-present struggle with blogging.  At times it feels like material is piled up all around me, begging to be posted and suffocating me in the process, and other times it feels like my creative well has gone empty and dry, and silence fills these pages.

Neither is that much fun, so why do I blog?  I don't really know.



   Jocelyn's favorite activity, ever, of all time, by far, is dressing up.  She dresses up every day, multiple times a day, and leaves a path strewn in her wake of scarves and tutus and hats and things.  It is totally cute and totally annoying.

   But more recently, she asked *begged* me to dress up, and I inwardly groaned.  But then I thought, hey, I have to get ready for church tonight anyway, so I just threw on a dress I was going to wear later and a hat and a scarf and some lipstick, and hoped that would pass the test.

And you know what?  She TOTALLY bought it.


So, that was easy.  I may have to do that again.

   The picture above will long be one of my favorites because it's composed of what so many of my daydreams were when I found out I was having our second little girl.  Bathroom counters strewn with fingernail polish and heels and hats and fancy scarves....I envision much more of this in the years to come.

   And one last one from today, when Randy got home from work (yes, he has to work Saturdays,   pity welcomed) and we were out on the swing set reading books and he snapped this one from inside the house without us even knowing he was back.

Sneaky, sneaky.

Pssst hey kids…...
   All the while you've been thinking about how much fun playdates are?  Turns out that moms have even more fun at them.  So the joke's on you.


   A small group of us has been meeting for regular play dates for over a year now, and yesterday it was my turn to host.  The group has been growing as we have been adding children to our families and inviting new people, and I always wish I could invite a whole lot more, but my poor little home can only hold so many.  When the weather gets nicer hopefully we can meet at the park a few times and then it will be easier to invite more people.  I always leave feeling so encouraged and refreshed and recharged.  I feel so blessed and privileged to be traveling this journey of motherhood with my friends and peers.  We're not meant to do it all alone!

  This last time I got my camera out, and not sure what is going on but almost every one seemed a little fuzzy to me??!  Arrrrrgh so annoying.  I'll work on that.