Jack 15 Months

 

I honestly feel like this house hunt and now remodel has sucked the baby right out of my baby. I mean, look at him! He's such a big Bubba now. His favorite pastimes include rocking in his little rocker, playing the CDs in his big sister's CD player and taking baths. Truth be told, this picture was of his VERY FIRST bubble bath. The poor kid just hasn't lived. 

He's tended to be a pretty chill and laid back boy, for the most part. He has the most adorable triple love pat on the back that he gives when he hugs. 



He pretty much thinks the stroller is oh-so-last-year and would much rather be exploring "free range" style. He's a quick little dude now that he's figured out how to use his two lower extremities in an upright fashion.

With my history of being homeschooled, I have a pretty strong gag reflex when it comes to males and sweat pants. But this kid? I'm a sucker for him in a soft pair of cotton bottoms. Seriously. I would dress him in nothing else if I could.

 

Oh, on a random note, my son is scared of elevators. I know not the origination of this fear but he panics and points for the door and cries whenever we use one. 

He's growing great which is no surprise to anyone who has ever seen his naked belly. He might be growing too well actually. Daddy took him to has last appointment and no one really knows how much he ways but it's somewhere in the ballpark of 25 pounds we thick. We know for a fact his weight has climbed to the 75-90 %ile. Jack, I think 2% milk is in your near future! Also, big news this month: he now sports the badge of honor "youngest baby to ever test positive for strep throat," according to our doctor.

 

Oh, and though I'd prefer NEVER to talk about it again, I think it must be mentioned that this month was the month of the bad haircut. Haircuts plural actually. Let's just say I won't be attempting to cut his hair on my own again AND a lot of spiking gel is in his future. (For the record, it's not my fault he jolts backwards when the scissors come near! And that blond hair is so unforgiving).



 He LOVES bananas, muffins and YOGURT the best and you can't slip anything past him anymore. He knows it when you are eating something that is better than what you offered him.

He has been in that tortuous process of nap downsizing and pretty much exclusively only does one now. But for a while there this meant not napping at all or fighting it until we gave up and loaded into the car to run errands He'd proceed to falling asleep for about 5 minutes and then calling it good for the rest of the day. I would not call this good but no one asked me.

 

You know how us parents will sometimes get the delusional idea that it'd be so nice to snuggle our tired child in bed with us late into the night or in the wee hours of the morning? Yeah, this video basically sums up what ACTUALLY goes down when a sleep-deprived parent attempts such.  

And in case you didn't believe me, my kid is free range now! :)

Me, (mostly) unedited

I’m sitting at La Boulange in the heart of San Francisco sipping a latte out of this vessel that looks more bowl than cup. Graham is at a GI oncology conference, mixing with the big-wigs and I’m tagging along for some personal time to write. It’s a rough life, that’s for sure.

Over lunch yesterday, Graham called me out on the fact that I regret not going to medical school. I’m a little scared to say that out loud as putting it in ink makes it so out there, real and permanent. It’s hard to put words to. I’m not sure I really regret not going to medical school per se but I often regret the idea of it.  I’m slowly piecing together why being a doctor sounds so appealing. I love being needed, having a sense of purpose in helping people and if I’m going to be totally truthful, public affirmation is a big motivator for me too. I long to be on the “front lines,” a first responder, a critical and key component in emergent situations.

When I was younger, my dad told me he was confident I could do anything I set my mind to. (Of course, I think he made a silent exception for dancing as I’m a firm believer that you can’t teach a rhythm-less girl new tricks but other than that, all was fair game…) These were big words and have proven incredibly powerful in inspiring me and pushing me to do greater. In my heart of hearts, I know I could do it. Go to medical school, I mean. Graham and I both do (though he admits it would be weird if I were a doctor and he were a nurse practitioner). The jury is out on how healthy or happy I would be, but we know I could do it. When the codes are called at work, I fight the urge to run to the scene. I struggle in my supportive, advisory professional role.

Some might argue, heck even I sometimes argue (my dad thought I’d make a good lawyer…) that motherhood presents similar opportunities to medicine. A mother is needed and has a purpose, certainly, and oh yes are there ever emergent situations. Like when you find your three year old standing in the middle of her bedroom yelling and battling the immense weight of her stuffed-to-the-gills dresser drawer that she accidently pulled out all the way and is desperately trying not to drop. Or when you turn around to find your 15 month old toddling around the corner with a plastic bag over his head, lovingly placed there by an older sibling. Or when you discover your ring-leading five year old has rallied a plethora of children to join her in walking down the hardwood stairs all the while situated inside of her kids play tent.  Emergencies, People. They abound.

Yet somehow, though motherhood meets many of the criterion that I’ve identified make me tick, I still come away on most days feeling unfulfilled. Friends, let me assure you, this is not a good feeling. In fact, it is rather guilt-inducing. Please, please, please don’t mishear me though. I absolutely adore my kids and love them to pieces! And I do really love being a mom. What I don't always love is all the ways it has changed my life and I spend a lot of my days feeling lost, wondering who I am now, or who or what I should be becoming.

Sometimes I wonder if I might be going through my mid-life crisis, though arguably it is early. It feels as though I’ve spent many of the last 5, nearly 6 years spinning in circles, trying to find my footing and figure out what I want to be “when I grow up.” Thankfully, I am surrounded by some cherished friends who, like myself, have been and continue to be just as rocked by motherhood as I am. Though I’m sure what we will end up being “when we are grown up” will vary significantly, there is incredible comradery in knowing that we are not alone. That this motherhood curve ball, that most of us planned for, longed for, desired with all of our might could end up being so baffling.

My husband and I were discussing this topic over lunch and I was in the middle of spewing an oversized load of thoughts, what I like to refer to as “verbal vomit.” Graham cut me off and said “You need to write about this.”

This? I thought. But it’s ugly and unedited. There is no frosting for the cake, to cover up it’s screwed up and crumbling insides. I don’t even know if there is a message here! But still he urged me to make this jumble public, to confess that I’m still figuring this out, still processing. So here I am. I am fighting the desire with every ounce of my being to type out these honest words and then frost them with some sort of sugary message that basically says “But it’s no biggie. We’re all good here.” 

But instead, I’m going to let it all out and be REAL, in continued pursuit of creating a space where truth can be spoken when there is wrestling to be done. Our culture is one that makes mommyhood so hard. Much is expected of us and the weight of it sometimes feels unbearable. The messages, intentional or not, from the generations that have gone before tell us “I did it. So can you.” They communicate there is something wrong with us for thinking this is hard. And so we struggle in silence, afraid to say aloud that this job isn't always what we imagined. How is it that one job, one very important role can be so joy-filled and discouraging and rewarding and excruciatingly painful and wonderful all in the very same span of five minutes?

I don’t think anyone will argue with me when I say motherhood is virtually a thank-less job. At least in the critical phases when it takes everything in you just to keep the children breathing and alive, not to mention yourself. And your marriage. And your other relationships. That little piece I mentioned earlier about the importance of public affirmation? I’m not going to lie, it’s a bit lacking for us down here in the trenches. Though I would love to dig down deep and say something really saintly like “I don’t need affirmation. It’s just so fulfilling to be a mom and know I’m investing in my kids’ futures,” that sort of fluff just doesn’t cut it for me.

And yet. AND YET, the older I get (and maybe, possibly, hopefully the wiser?), the more I am realizing that we all have this void. It feels like a hole, this longing for more. And rather than fight it, I’m slowly learning to embrace it. To lean into it, even, sometimes to lean so far that I lose my balance and fall. I believe this hole originated because of disobedience and sin and now it’s purpose is to remind us daily of our humanness and our need for God. I’m beginning to recognize that it is in these moments when I allow myself to sit in this uncomfortable space of the unknown, the baffling and the confusing, that God speaks to me. He reminds me of my purpose. He reminds me that it is actually a healthy thing for me to be longing for more, to be on the pursuit. What is dangerous is when I make the call and decide what is worth pursuing. But if I will slow down and wrestle and then listen, eventually He nudges.

I wish I had a pretty bow to wrap this in and present to summarize exactly how I am being nudged right now. Truth be told, I really have no idea. I'm pretty positive I won't be going to med school. Honestly, I would love to invest more intentional time into this newfound love of writing (and force all of you to pilfer through more spews of verbal vomit). Or maybe these nudgings will eventually conclude with my diving all-in-no-more-buts-about-it into motherhood as my full-time job. I really don't know. But what I do know is that these nudgings are good and healthy and ok. And so until there is more clarity, I will sit right here and wrestle.

This year

I've been struggling to put words to these inner nudgings, these overwhelming feelings of gratitude and contentedness. My heart was filled to bursting these past couple weeks and, to my surprise, I think I can say with full confidence that this was the best Christmas yet. This is striking to me because it was the first Christmas we haven't had a tree. We didn't send out Christmas cards. We started a name draw system on both sides of our families which meant significantly less gifts. Oh and we were remodeling full time until the 11th hour on December 19th so we could move in to our partly-finished house on the morning of the 20th.

Though I don't care to repeat the utter exhaustion that was the first 19 days of December, I spent the last 11 reflecting and celebrating and giving thanks. There is something about this year that feels different. Maybe it is blatantly obvious to the rest of you but I'm still piecing it all together. It was incredibly freeing to be somewhat forced by the constraints of time to let go of all the trappings and distractions of the season and just be present. I am so very grateful that, this year, God chose to teach me and personalize the story of His coming in a new and very tangible way.

As I sit here greeting the early morning hours in my new house, I am humbled as I survey the open space. I have two dining tables. They are not fancy and in fact one of them hardly has a working chair but still there are two of them. TWO!! Plenty of space to feed hungry mouths. And each of my kids are fast asleep in their own cozy bed and still there is a bed that lies empty, ready for anyone who would like to stay over. These are the things I have dreamed about and long-prayed for.

I have wrestled intensely with the desire to host and practice hospitality as we grew from a couple to a family of 5 in the confines of our tight little condo. I tried not to let our walls stop us but oh how I inwardly kicked and screamed as our friends began to start families. I remember one evening in particular when we were hosting small group. Our table "for 8" was crammed with at least 10. I spread out a blanket on the sliver of kitchen floor that remained and propped up a TV tray in the entry way to create "picnic areas" for the kids since we were out of seating. There was literally not even a square foot of open tile left. It was not long after that our small group stopped meeting mostly due to sheer capacity, once 6 people, now 15 with kids in the course of 5 short years.

Our story never made sense to me. I longed to welcome others into our home and have them be comfortable. And for whatever reason, the journey getting here from house hunting and bidding to the excruciating process of closing has not been easy. But you guys, as I sit here in front of a cozy fire, I don't have the words to say adequate thanks to our village of people who have cheered for us and helped us along the way. So many people we know and even some we don't have helped us in the form of childcare, meals, nail-hammering, paint-rolling, conversation and encouragement, mattresses, door-making, moving and unpacking, floor-scrubbing and of course free housing (!!!!) If you are reading this right now, there is about a 98% probability that you are one of my "village" and this thanks goes out to YOU. I have learned a in a whole new way what it looks like to be the hands and feet of Christ this Christmas season and wow is it ever powerful. There are no words.

But in my feeble attempt to create words where there are none, I will say this: thank you for your part in teaching me something new about my God. For reasons I have yet to ponder, I have always viewed God through the lens of justice, a strict God ruling with an iron hand. I've known intellectually that He is also a God of incredible grace and love but subconsciously I believed He looked at the desires of my heart and intentionally did not grant them to me. I was undeserving (truth be told, we all are if not for Christ!) but myself in particular. There have been numerous hurtful experiences in the past decade that have felt like a direct hit to my soul, deepening this wildly inaccurate perception of God. But now I find myself in this amazing physical space, a gorgeous home, that is so much better than I could have ever imagined. And suddenly my misconceptions don't have a leg to stand on. This amazing community of people that has had my back and has been supporting and serving me has, through their actions, in turn gently been chipping away at this inaccurate view of God that has penetrated my being.

So, this year, this new year, I have a different kind of resolution. I long to get to know God for who He truly is, not who I make Him out to be in my twisted human mind. I long to know Him as the God of love and grace, and yes justice too, but mostly of incredible forgiveness and sacrifice for on my behalf. I have no idea how I am going to go about this other than to get in His word and spend more time with Him and allow Him reveal His character. I'm really excited. And scared too because I know growth usually involves stretching. But I am so grateful for what this Christmas season (and you all!) have taught me as the hands and feet of Jesus. Here's to an incredible year ahead!

Isla 64 Months

She's a sweet, strong girl and it's been so nice to have her home from school this month

Her Christmas wishes this year: a diary with a lock, a bed canopy and long-sleeved pjs

She got three diaries which is definitely not too many

Spends lots of time writing in them and sounding out words

So far her writing subject remains butterflies (let's hope it stays that way)

She'd really like a pet humming bird

Has a new best friend named Maya

Talks about her all the time

Sad to leave her old school

Came home with an excellent report card

Excelling in civic rules (no one is surprised!) 

Marked as still "developing" her understanding of music (high/low, fast/slow etc)

Guess she is 100% my daughter - sorry Graham! 

We are all going through a lot of transitions

Her reaction to these big changes have been manifested in a resistance towards Daddy

Wants to sit next to Mama EVERY meal

It's hard and we are working on it

Got to enjoy a special Daddy Date to the PNW Ballet Nutcracker

She dressed up in her leotard and ballet slippers and carried a wand

No longer wants to be an artist

Say her new future profession is to be in the snowflake dance of the Nutcracker

But is quick to tell you she's going to be in the shortened kids version of the show

Leaves me notes and art on my bedside table nearly every day

Would tell you her new favorite color is blue

I will tell you why if I must

Because that's the color in Frozen....

I blame Kindergarten for this obsession! Sigh

She and her sister have been playing really well together in our new house

I see a neat friendship budding there 

The end

Emma 40 Months

Emma Grace...

sweet and sassy

Christmas wishes: "just a tiny buffalo" and a dog with no spots

hugged and thanked everyone for her gifts before she even opened them

my ray of sunshine and guaranteed laugh

dresses herself in a sleeveless, too-big Christmas dress almost daily

but never stays in it

comes down in a new outfit every time she goes upstairs, usually a dress

falls out of bed regularly

learned to sing Away in a Manager and keeps a pretty good tune

Daniel Tiger is her guy

quietly plays and looks at books, for the most part

my mini chef and kitchen helper