Balancing Life as Mama

Oh y'all.  I can talk a good talk on this one.  But the reality is this is still my greatest daily struggle.

Just about every mama I talked to warned me that the adjustment from one child to two is the hardest adjustment to make.  They told me it was harder than going from no babies to one, and they told me going from two kids to three or more was infinitely easier.  I heard them, but I really had no way of understanding what they were saying until I got thrown into the deep end with two kids.

I had lots of ideas for 2013; lots of ambitions.  But what needed to come first was my family.  And while I acknowledged this with my head, my feet kept trying to take me in a different direction.  I knew that my top priority was my little brood who needed their mama, but I had dreams of doing things for myself.

I was going to blog the way I'd always wanted to.  I was going to open my Etsy shop full of vintage goodies and have fun sharing my love of old things.  I was even going to tip my toe back into the waters of interior design.  All good things, yes.  But not exactly what needed to be my top priority last year.  And when these things didn't pan out the way I wanted them to, I felt like a failure.

I struggled against my desire to do more, to be more.  It felt like I was smacking my head into a brick wall on a daily basis.  The more I tried to cram what I wanted to do into my days, the more I began to grow impatient with my daily life as a mama.  I began to view simple things like building yet another train track or reading the same book for the 84 millionth time as interruptions - which they aren't.  When we were in the throws of potty training, I felt over my head and was frustrated with the extra 2 loads of laundry I did every day for months on end.  And over time I began to resent the life I was living.

I've done a lot of soul searching on this one in the last couple of months.  I've come to a breaking point more than once, and here are some of the things I've learned:

1. It might sound like a no-brainer, but I have to get out of the house every day.  If it's only to go to the grocery store, so be it.  But if I can get out of the house and go for a nice long walk every day, so much the better.  I don't have to change outfits or worry about workout gear if I'm going for a walk, and I can take my babies with me if need be.
2. If I'm feeling particularly overwhelmed and feel like I'm going to snap and yell at my son, then I need to walk away.  If he's not in imminent danger or putting his sister in imminent danger (like running into the street or smacking her on the head) then I need to walk away until I can address the situation calmly.  
3. I need to not care as much how my life looks to outsiders.  I don't live an idyllic life and staying home with my children is hard work.  Period.  Sometimes I hear comments about "what do you do all day?" and I want to poke myself in the eye.  The more I hear these types of comments, the more I feel like I'm not measuring up to some standard of super-mom.  Instead of letting these things roll off my back, I feel the need to apologize for my choice to stay home as a mom.  But I don't need to apologize.  Don't I feel like my education is being wasted?  No.  If anything I feel like my education is benefitting my children.  Reading this last week was freeing, if for no other reason to know that I'm not alone.
4. If I'm having a crazy day and my list of to-do items is starting to choke me, it's okay to leave some of those to-dos undone.  I really started to see the value of this the closer we got to Christmas.  I didn't want to spend the holidays stressed out, yet the closer we got, the more stressed I was.  I built up such a list of things I wanted us to do, there just weren't enough hours in the day for us to do everything.  By Christmas Eve morning I was in a sour mood trying to figure out logistics for getting everything done.  I realized I could either get everything done or I could take a couple things off that list and we could enjoy our day.  I lightened our load for the day and it ended up being one of my favorite Christmases of all time. Now, when my to-do list seems to be a bit much, I try to whittle down to what absolutely HAS to get done, and let everything else go.  It's easier said than done, but I'm learning.
5. When I've gone too long without a break, I need to be honest about it with my husband.  If he can't watch the kids for a short while, then I need to call in reinforcements from somewhere.  It's okay to admit that I need a break.

I know I will spend the rest of my life trying to get this mothering thing down.  It's a process and I'm not sure we're ever "done".  Do you struggle in balancing your life as a parent?  What bits of wisdom have you discovered?

What Humility Looks Like

I don't know about you, but I have a hard time with hospitality.  Not on the giving end - I adore being on the giving end.  I enjoy opening my home to friends - new and old.  To make a comfortable home and share it with those I love, to fill the stomachs of those I love with good food, and to serve my friends copious amounts of coffee and iced tea - I love this part of hospitality.

What is difficult is being on the receiving end of hospitality.

I'm not talking about going to a friend's home to enjoy dinner and conversation.  I'm talking about the part of hospitality when I am on the broken end and need others to minister to my body and soul.  Why is that part of hospitality so difficult?

I'd like to believe that it's because I'm such a strong woman, I don't need help ever.  But that's a lie.  The truth is I struggle with pride, and in moments of weakness pride rears her ugly head and makes herself known.

There is nothing like having a baby to put you and your pride in your place.

Let's forget the part where you go to the hospital and put yourself at the mercy of others to help you labor and birth your little one into the world.  Or in my case, willingly lay down on a table and be sliced open to bring your little one into the world.  The IV's and gaping open hospital gowns you rock in pre-op as they pump 3 bags of fluid in quick succession into your body in the hopes of staving off any signs of nausea and vomiting on the operating table.  Only the OR inevitably runs late and you're left running with your IV pole and gapping hospital gown to the bathroom 84,000 times before you even get to surgery.  Then post-op, having to rely on complete strangers to help you learn how to walk again and pee again...yes these things ruffle pride's feathers and make her uncomfortable, to say the least.

But it's really the after part that's the most difficult.  After you leave the hospital and are trying so desperately to return to some form of normal life...only there is no normal and you still need people to help.  This is the part I struggle with.

It has been more than 2 weeks since my sweet little Poppy entered this world.  Pain medication is long gone and I can drive a car again.  Theoretically I can return to my life as super mom {ha!}.  So when a very sweet woman from our church called to set up a time to come visit us and bring us a meal from the church and a little gift for our kids, I thought "Oh how fun!  I can't wait to introduce her to our baby girl and show off the nursery" and visions of my perfectly clean house and perfectly dressed children ran through my head.

Well friends, today was the day and let me tell you, there was nothing perfect about what went down.

It started yesterday with a quick day-trip across the great state of Texas to visit grandparents, which resulted in us getting home after 1am this morning.  We were already delirious from pushing our 30 year old bones to the extremes of travel with a newborn and a toddler, but our sweet little Poppy wasn't done.  Oh no...she wanted to have a party all. night. long.  I think we finally got to sleep at 4 or 5, woke up with Poppy again at 7 and then crashed again.

So at 10:30 this morning I was still in bed when our guest showed up at our door.  The only person in my house who was dressed was the Kiddo and he had breakfast smeared all over his face and his hair stood up on end like he had just been electrocuted.

I did the quick switching out of pajama pants for jeans, threw my hair into a ponytail, and ran to the door.  I didn't even look around the house to see what it looked like.  I did not see the chair our puppy ate yesterday, sitting sadly in the corner with stuffing pulled out at every seam.  I didn't even take a second to do a "pit check" to make sure I didn't smell.  And I most certainly did not realize that Poppy and I had gone our maximum number of hours since her last "snack".  So as I opened the door to cheerfully invite our guest in for a visit, and tried to discreetly wipe yesterdays mascara from underneath my eyes....as this sweet lady {who I have never before met in real life} is bringing in casseroles and gifts from the church for our kids...this is the moment my body decides to fail me and my pride takes a huge beating.  That "all of a sudden my shirt is wet and holy crap how do I hide this???" moment....yes friends, that was me this morning.  Welcoming a complete stranger into my home with my daughter's mid-morning snack running down one side of my shirt and sleeve.  There is no hiding that y'all.

I was mortified.  I still am.  Our visit was short and I would have loved to sit and chat with her for much longer, but honestly I'm not offended that she left quickly.  I imagine she couldn't wait to leave our chaotic mess of a house and the leaky lady with the wet shirt.

But the thing is...I know I really shouldn't be mortified.  What took place this morning is real life.  Real life isn't neat and tidy with a bow on top.  And it is pure pride that makes us put on our "happy" faces and "everything is perfect" attitudes when we walk into church...a place where we should be at our sincerest.

I'm going to level with you...if it were one of my girlfriends or cousins at my door, we would have laughed at the timing and I would have gone to change my shirt.  But because it was someone I had never met before I desperately wanted to look like I had everything together, even though I clearly didn't in this moment.  Why am I more inclined to be less "real" with the Bride of Christ?  Why am I so quick to try to hide any trace of weakness when I am human and therefore completely fallible?

It's my pride that makes me worry that this sweet lady is going to head back to the church saying "Oh y'all...that family! The house was a mess, their dog ate the stuffing out of one of their chairs, and the mom's shirt was soaked through!"  Isn't the whole point of ministering to new moms and dads to help them in a moment when they desperately need help {even if we won't admit it}?  So why am I so afraid of {non-existent} disapproving looks and imperfection?  Am I really so vain that I'm only okay if I'm on the serving side of the equation?

The hard truth is apparently I am.

I have no pearls of wisdom on this one.  I have no answers or remedies.  All I have is a cup of coffee, good music, and this moment of realization that perfection is not required.  Today I choose to sit in this pocket of grace and not reflect too much on things I cannot control.

My 100th Post! {& my best laid schemes go awry}

Today I planned to do another Vintage in the Home feature.

What was it I said last week about best laid plans?

Dear friends...I am 30 1/2 weeks pregnant...and I officially have the shingles.

Pretty flower from our summer vacation...much prettier than the shingles.

It is not fun.  It's a virus and therefore it basically has to run its course.  It can last 2-4 weeks, and I only have 8 weeks left before this baby comes, and I've been pushing so hard to get everything "done" by the end of February.  I may or may not have had a massive melt-down earlier today.  Complete with mascara stinging and running into my eyes (time to bring back the waterproof).

I felt desperate and weak and like I couldn't do anything right.  (As if I chose to get the shingles.  As if I had any say over the timing of my immune system giving in to the chickenpox virus which has lain dormant in my body for the last 25 years.  As if I can do anything to stop it from running its course.)

In the midst of my tears and wallowing and asking "God...really?  Why me?  Hasn't this pregnancy dealt me enough obstacles?  Why this?" I grabbed my Granny's old Bible for comfort.  I love reading her Bible...the one from her later years in life.  Seeing the passages she chose to highlight and underline.  See what spoke to her as age and alzheimer's took their toll.

I fully intended on reading Psalm 91...I was seeking refuge and wanted to hide from all that seemed overwhelming...

My Refuge and My Fortress

91 He who dwells in athe shelter of the Most High

will abide in bthe shadow of the Almighty.

2 I will say1 to the Lord, “My crefuge and my dfortress,

my God, in whom I etrust.”

But when I opened to Psalms, the pages fell to Psalm 136...

His Steadfast Love Endures Forever

136 wGive thanks to the Lord, for he is good,

xfor his steadfast love endures forever.

2 Give thanks to ythe God of gods,

for his steadfast love endures forever.

3 Give thanks to ythe Lord of lords,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

4 to him who alone zdoes great wonders,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

5 to him who aby understanding bmade the heavens,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

6 to him who cspread out the earth dabove the waters,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

7 to him who emade the great lights,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

8 the sun to rule over the day,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

9 the moon and stars to rule over the night,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

10 to him who fstruck down the firstborn of Egypt,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

11 and gbrought Israel out from among them,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

12 with ha strong hand and an outstretched arm,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

13 to him who idivided the Red Sea in two,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

14 jand made Israel pass through the midst of it,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

15 but koverthrew1 Pharaoh and his host in the Red Sea,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

16 to him who lled his people through the wilderness,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

17 to him mwho struck down great kings,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

18 and killed mighty kings,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

19 Sihon, king of the Amorites,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

20 and Og, king of Bashan,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

21 and gave their land as a heritage,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

22 a heritage to Israel his nservant,

for his steadfast love endures forever.

23 It is he who oremembered us in our low estate,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

24 and prescued us from our foes,

for his steadfast love endures forever;

25 he who qgives food to all flesh,

for his steadfast love endures forever.

26 Give thanks to rthe God of heaven,

for his steadfast love endures forever.

There are a total of 4 commands to "give thanks" and 26 reminders that "his steadfast love endures forever" in this Psalm.   I don't think it's an accident that I read this first.

Choosing to be thankful and not frustrated...so not easy.  Acknowledging that all my sewing and painting projects and room makeovers might not get done....so, so not easy.  Admitting that I am sick and can't really "fix" it...so not easy.  But here I am.  In this moment where my body is clearly screaming at me to go easy.  To rest.  To allow myself a moment or two to heal.

I'm not saying it's easy, because it's not.  But I think it's important to give thanks.  Give thanks when things are going fabulously and especially when they are not.  Even when we're running for refuge, to give thanks.

So tonight I am thankful for this baby girl, who has her mama's chickenpox antibodies keeping her safe and sound.

I am thankful for a roof over my family's head and food in our bellies.

I am thankful I have insurance and doctors to help care for me and this little one growing inside.

I am thankful for modern medicine and the hope that this will not last as long as it would untreated.

I am thankful for a husband who understands that I'm not feeling 100% and is trying to make it better in the small ways he can.

I am thankful for the sweet little boy who gave me hugs all afternoon, sensing that something wasn't quite right.

I am thankful for the sweet new puppy we are bringing into our home tomorrow!  It may not be the best timing, but she is sure to bring smiles to all our faces.

I am thankful that I already had my 30 week doctor's appointment planned today and therefore we caught this early.

And I am praying for the fortitude to put one foot in front of the other and live in the moment, thankful for all our many blessings.

Time & Management

First off, I have to say this is not something I have mastered.  At all.

Time management is a constant battle for me.  Some days I feel like I have conquered and slain the dragon clock.  Truthfully, most days I get to the end and sigh, wishing I felt more productive.

Sometimes I think the biggest dragon I have to slay is that of my own expectations.

Almost exactly two years ago I made the very difficult decision to resign from my position as a marketing manager at a local firm.  Before that point, my life was very organized, my days were scheduled out and packed full, and I worked hard at a fast pace each and every day.

When my son was born I felt completely lost - like a fish out of water.  All of a sudden my days were unplanned.  The basic plan was, of course, feed my child, change my child's diapers, cuddle my child, watch him sleep, lather, rinse, and repeat.  It sounded easy.  But after the first month or so I realized it wasn't quite that simple.  I would go in circles trying to finish just one task.  Easy things like applying mascara...I very clearly remember the day I left to do an errand and realized I had mascara on one eye and not the other.  My brain felt like it couldn't think in a straight line anymore, and even though I would line up the day's tasks, the constant interruption of someone else needing me left me chasing my own tail.

And I felt overwhelmed.  At first it didn't bother me if I didn't get to shower until 3 or 4 in the afternoon.  But a couple of months later it really started to wear on me.

I wish I could say that I then figured out the secret to staying home with my baby, getting everything done, and staying sane all at the same time.  The truth is it took a LOT of time for things to work out and it's still not a perfect system.

That said, here is what I have figured out so far...

You have to order your priorities, and then stick to your guns.

When I resigned, it wasn't so that I could read all the books I wanted, or sew, crochet, and knit to my heart's content.  Or even to repaint and redecorate my house.  Or to keep an immaculately clean house.  Or to blog.  Or to start my own business.

I resigned so that I could be the primary care-giver of my child.  So my number one job every day is to take care of him.  To invest in him.  To read him countless Thomas & Friends books no matter how tired of them I am.  To teach him how to count and recite the alphabet.  To cook 3 meals a day for him and give him snacks and sippy cups.  To teach him how to use a big boy potty.  And failing that, to change his undies, again.  To teach him not to hit and throw tantrums.  To help him learn how to slide and not throw sand.

It seems basic, but it took a while for me to realize this.  Of course, logically I knew I was staying home for him. I just didn't realize how much my attention and focus would need to shift to him in order to achieve my purpose.  And I didn't realize how much that would feel like I was giving up little things I wanted to do in my daily life.

Until I really thought about my priorities and what I was there to accomplish, it felt like I was getting interrupted every time I started a naptime project only to have him wake up.  But of course he woke up! He was only napping.  And he was the real reason I was home, not me and my books and crafts.  Once I realized that he was top priority, it was easier to put aside what I wanted and focus primarily on him.  I  wasn't thinking in circles anymore.  Basic things like showers got moved up the list a bit, but I realized I already was accomplishing what I was there to accomplish every day.  Anything else that got done became a bonus.

The thing is, to the outside world this doesn't look like much.  And that is hard.  Good friends would ask me "so what do you do all day?".  My answer?  A lot.  And a lot that is hard to measure by our culture's standards of productivity.  But it doesn't diminish the fact that it is a lot.

Regardless of your situation, mom or not, once you decide what is top priority, you need to make that your top priority and not waver.  It will come under the scrutiny of others, and you need to be okay with that.  This is your life, not theirs.  These are your priorities, not theirs.  At the end of the day you need to be satisfied with the work you've accomplished, not them.  If others insinuate that they could do more...more power to them!  But they don't live in your shoes.  Remember that.

Once you have your priorities ordered, plan your day accordingly.

Again, it may sound simple, but it is so easy to get distracted with peripheral things.  For me, this meant that I needed to focus on what my child needed daily first.  Basic things stayed the same (eat, sleep, poop, repeat), but as my child got older his needs became more varied.  He needed play time, could interact more, and eventually moved to one nap a day.  In each stage of his life, I have adjusted my expectations for everything else.  For instance, when he took a morning and an afternoon nap I had more time to read, crochet, and write - things that left me feeling refreshed and productive.  As soon as he stopped taking his morning nap I lost two hours I previously had counted as "me time".  But the knowledge that I really only had 2 hours at naptime and anything after bedtime to do things for myself allowed me to schedule things lightly.  Did it still bother me that it took a really, really long time to get any one project done?  Yes.  But my expectations were set more appropriately to my daily life and I learned to celebrate my accomplishments more and to not focus on the things which went undone.

Are you over-scheduling yourself?  Do you need to pare back your project list in one area of your life in order to better focus on your primary goals?  It's so easy to be distracted and to try to jump in and do everything at once.  But it is so much better to accomplish one or two things well than to start five or six projects and not complete anything.

Work your plan.

Once you have a schedule that allows for top priorities to take center stage, do not back down.  Carefully consider any requests for your time and do not add anything to your weekly life that will take away from that top priority.

I think this is the hardest part.  At least, I know it is for me.  I like to say yes to people and I'm a somewhat reformed people-pleaser.  For me, my weakness is church activities.  I like to be involved and help, but with a toddler and a newborn on the way, and with the Hubster's work schedule, it's not feasible for me to be super involved.  Truthfully, it is huge that we are able to attend one worship service every week.  Huge!  Growing up I was at the church every time the doors were open.  And even when they were closed, I was most likely doing something church related.  So for me and my family to only attend once a week feels a lot like failure.  And yet, I know it's not.  To constantly be saying "no" when I'm asked to come to activities that coincide with my child's bedtime feels like failure.  But it's not.  I am serving my family.  And right now, that is what I'm supposed to be doing.

Do you find yourself adding in extra activities when you should be saying "no"?  This is such a struggle for me!  I have to guard my family's schedule so carefully.  When I don't, it results in an overtired toddler, a stressed out daddy who's trying to pick up the slack for me, and a frazzled me...who once again bit off more than I could chew.

Give yourself space and grace.

But little mouse, you are not alone,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often awry,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!
-"To a Mouse, On Turning Up in Her Nest with the Plough" by Robert Burns, 1785 (Standard English Translation)

As I said at the beginning, this is not something I have mastered.  I am not perfect and (so sorry to point it out, but) neither are you.  Failure is inevitable at some point.  Falling short of our goals is inevitable at some point.  It's a fact of life.  This is one of those things that we all know, but at times it seems magnified.  Nothing in my life has magnified my short-comings and daily failures the way that being a stay-home mom has.  Even if I manage to do everything on my list, I struggle with doing everything on my list and doing it cheerfully.  Or with patience.  Often times, both.

I know what my daily "must-get-dones" are, and I try to add only one or two "extras" with a couple of "bonus tasks" thrown in just in case I'm able to get to them.

But there are always going to be the days when not. one. single. thing. gets. done.

On those days I encourage you (and myself!!) to slow down.  Take a deep breath.  Give yourself the space to think "what can get done?", the fortitude to do it, and the grace to accept that you've done what you could do.  And that is enough.

I'm linking up today with Edie @ Life In Grace.  If you have the chance, please click over to read lots more thoughts on using time intentionally.

Confession :: I Cut My Own Hair.

Chalk it up to boredom.  Or to the inevitable mama-comes-last syndrome.  But I have not had my hair professionally cut or trimmed in almost one full year.

Aaaand....I have taken to cutting it myself.

There.  I've said it.

Before you think I've lost my marbles {let's face it...you do think that don't you?} let me 'splain.

{Me & the Kiddo at Christmas...my hair 3 weeks ago}

See, I have long hair.  And I'm a true, picky long-haired girl.  Meaning, I can't just go get my hair cut anywhere or by anyone.  It's hard to find someone to cut hair well...period.  But when you have long hair you have the extra problem of someone cutting off too much.  Or layering it poorly.  Or razoring it after failed attempts at point cutting, thus giving you horrible split ends in 2 days flat.

I have found someone who cuts my hair beautifully....and she's not super expensive...but she's across town.

And I have a little one.

So a $45 hair cut every 8-12 weeks now also includes finding/paying someone to babysit.  During the day.  Which limits options.  Which means I went from February to August last year without getting even a teeny tiny trim.  And my hair grows fast naturally.  And since I'm still on prenatal vitamins....well you get the picture.  My hair grows l.o.n.g. and f.a.s.t.

So I got curious.  How did people cut their hair way back when?  You know, before the hair salon was invented?  I started googling and found some seriously scary self-trim methods on YouTube by some very bold ladies.  No, no, no...cut my own hair??  I can't do this.

Then I found this and this.  And one night after I put Kiddo to bed I got really brave and tried it.

I have to tell you, my hair was so ridiculously long at that point that I really couldn't see the harm.  If it looked horrible, I would just call up my fabulous hair lady and tell her I'd had a bad run in with a YouTube video and a pair of scissors and all could be mended.  I had about 10 inches to lose at that point....plenty of hair to mess up on.

Only I didn't mess up my hair.  And my ends, which were scaggy and split, had that lovely freshly-cut thickness.

I haven't looked back.

{My hair after cutting this morning}

If you are crazy like me, and think you might want to wage war with your locks, here are some things I've learned::

- It's best to cut your hair dry.  It causes less damage to your hair and if you have weird cowlicks you won't accidentally cut your hair unevenly.

- Don't freak out after you make the first cut.  It looks bad before it looks better.

- Go slow and take your time.  Double check and triple check.  You will get more confidence as you go.

- Point cut your ends so that your cut doesn't look so blunt and choppy.

- Wash and style your hair when your finished.  Then you can see if anything stands out as needing to be trimmed up further.

- Start small.  If you're cutting a lot off, go inch by inch instead of cutting 3-4 inches at once.  You can always take off more, but you can't put it back on.

I have to say there is something seriously addictive about cutting your own hair.  I've done this 7 or 8 times since August and it doesn't get old!  I still get nervous right before the first cut, my arms get tired about 2/3 of the way through, and when I'm finished I have this pride of accomplishment {and the knowledge that I can go spend my $45 on anything I want}.  ;)

What about you?  Have you ever taken drastic measures with you hair?  Did it turn out well?