How to Help

After opening up to friends and other women about post partum depression, I heard the same question over and over. "How do I help someone who is struggling with this?" So I thought I'd share what has, and what would have been helpful, for me. (understanding that everyone is different and it can affect each woman differently, what may help one may not be helpful for everyone)

1. Reach out and ask. A lot of times, friends and family members don't even know that a woman who has given birth can have, or is dealing with, this struggle. Most of us are too embarrassed to admit how we are feeling and thinking. I know I kept my struggle a secret for months from even my closest friends. So ask. Make it a point to ask your friends how they are doing mentally and emotionally a few weeks after they give birth. I run an infant photography business, and ever since my experience with PPD after my second child, I've made it a point to ask this question of the moms of newborns. You would be amazed at how open someone who is struggling will be. I think most of the time, if people ask, people share. We just don't want to blurt out that we're having such issues. And lots of times, just talking about our emotions can stop the normal baby blues into becoming full force PPD.

2. Stop talking about it, and just be there. Yes, this kind of contradicts my first point. But once you know your friend is struggling, realize that she may not want/need to constantly talk about it. After I finally opened up to friends about my issues, I didn't always want to talk about it. I craved a playdate with a mommy friend who, although knowing my problems, would come over and treat me like a normal person.

3. Help. For me, the most helpful things were for a friend to not do things for me, but help me with things. Share your energy. It made me feel more guilty to hear an offer of "let me take your kids for the day", but hearing "I'll bring supper and we can both watch all our kids together" was life saving. I didn't want someone to come clean FOR me, but I more than welcomed someone handing me a broom and saying "you sweep, I'll do dishes". Knowing that someone is willing to help, not just take over, is more encouraging because it gives us hope that one day we'll be able to do these things on our own again.

4. Stop quoting/sending scripture. Scripture is super discouraging coming from others. (sounds awful, I know) For me, I was in the Word daily and that was encouraging, but anytime someone else would send me scripture or ask "Have you been reading your Bible?", it was incredibly discouraging. It came across that I was being preached at, that the person thought I had given up on God, or that they  thought I wasn't doing whatever the scripture was about and made me feel awful. I already knew how bad I was and felt horrible that I couldn't be a better wife, mother, and friend. Constantly receiving scripture was like having someone rub my nose in it. (I realize this gives a sad insight into the world of depression. - Our head knows the right answer but as much as we want to trust and believe and be joyful, our heart just can't.)    

5. Don't expect your actions to fix her problem. Nothing any person can do will fix a friend's PPD. Acting like it will is not helpful at all.

6. Listen. Because no person is the same, what will be helpful for one friend may not be the most helpful for another dealing with these struggles. Be willing to ask "What can I do? Do you want to talk about it or do you just want me to shut up?"

7. Pray, pray, pray. Sometimes, hormones need to be straightened out. Other times, certain vitamin levels need to be corrected or even just time can conquer this battle. Knowing that this is a legitimate struggle and not "just in her head", pray for God to heal her body and soul. Let your friend know you are praying for her. It is such an encouraging truth to hear!

Answers

It has been a very long, very hard, 18 months. 18 months since I delivered my last baby and felt the weight of post partum depression descend and take root in the very core of who I am. Never before have I felt so unlike myself, even been scared of myself, truly realizing what my mind is capable of. There was a point last year when I read a story on the news about a mom who had driven her van, with her children inside, into the ocean. I saw all the nasty, judgmental comments on social media, the sharing of articles along with posts of "How could she do this?" and I wept. I wept because I was so close to being that woman. In the darkest days, I had driven around aimlessly with all the children in my van, just to get out of my house, and longed for a way to end it all. I wept because I understood. I wept because I knew the hurt, confusion, frustration, loneliness, and sheer desperation it takes to get to a place where something so tragic is a possibility. A very real possibility. And it is only by the grace of God I am here today, and I praise Him for that!

In answer to friends who have been asking about how things turned around, how I'm doing, etc., I finally have answers! After twelve months of my general practitioner and OB/GYN sending me back and forth to each other (both trying to get me on anti-depressants), trying and not being able to handle multiple anti-depressants, and a multitude of homeopathic alternatives attempted, I insisted on having blood drawn and every test possible being run. Along with the PPD, I was having countless physical symptoms that proved to me I wasn't crazy, that it wasn't all in my head. Well, I was so relieved when the tests came back with some answers: I had low iron, hyperthyroidism, and also a vitamin D deficiency. The last two are both known to contribute to/cause depression. So I started supplements and a round of prescription vitamin D and within four weeks, the depression was gone! I was, however, still struggling with all of my physical symptoms (hair loss, ache-y and fatigued, irregular cycles, pains being some of them) and so I kept returning to my doctors. Finally, 18 months after a baby, they were willing to believe there may be something else going on besides hormones trying to return to normal after everything they've been through the last five years. After an ultrasound, I was clinically diagnosed with endometriosis. (To be officially diagnosed, surgery is required which most doctors won't do unless necessary.) Turns out the symptoms of endometriosis lessen when pregnant or breast feeding which would explain why I hadn't been having these physical symptoms for the last 5 years! Unfortunately, there isn't a cure, but at least I have answers now and for that I am very grateful! My doctor now has me on monthly hormones which will hopefully control the symptoms. We still have to decide on how to treat this long term, but I feel so hopeful to know what is going on with my body!

I hope and pray that God will use my trial to encourage and help other women who are struggling. This was such a life changing experience and I can only pray that God will use it for good. I still struggle. Every day. Patience is not a strength of mine and with four little ones, it's kind of a necessity. But I know I'm not crazy now. I know I'm not alone. I know I serve a God who answers prayers and sees us through trials.

If you are struggling with post partum depression, please reach out to someone - anyone! This is too serious and scary of an issue to continue to be ignored and shamed. It's a very real problem! Please feel free to reach out to me if you need. You are not alone!

Babies Don't Keep

Dear New Mom,

Today you asked me how I got my babies to fall asleep on their own. They are so good at it that surely I must have sleep trained from the day they were born. You want to know my secret? I held them as much as I wanted. I threw out all books that told me to let my newborn cry themselves to sleep. God gave us these precious gifts, these tiny, dependent lives to care for, to hold, and to cherish. Why has our generation been told it's a bad thing to hold our babies too much? After nine months of being held warm and tight, with your heartbeat as his lullaby, why do you expect him to fall asleep easily without it?

I know I'm not much older than you, but I've had my babies and they all fall asleep on their own now. None of them want snuggles before bed, and I miss it. I ache for that sleepy baby cradled in my arms, wanting and needing nothing but my touch to fall asleep. So New Mom, cherish it. Enjoy those cuddles and snuggles. Take a deep breath of that sweet baby smell and kiss that soft little cheek. I promise you, you won't regret it.

"The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,

for children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.

So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.

I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep."

- Ruth Hamilton

To My Mother-In-Law on Mother's Day

Dear Mother-In-Law,

He's yours. I never thought I'd say that, but it's true. I guess in my young, naive, newlywed mind I thought I loved him more than anyone on the planet. After all, I'm choosing to spend the rest of my life with him, right? I also thought it was kind of silly for you to be so sentimental on our wedding day. Young adults leave home, that's what they do. Natural cycle of life and all. But then something happened. I had a son. And my perspective forever changed. In an instant, I realized that my husband is first, and foremost, your baby boy. Just as I felt my heart almost burst with love the first time I snuggled in my son's warm, sweet body to mine, so yours almost burst decades ago when the wonderful man I know as my husband was born. I now know that you love my husband with a love so strong it hurts. I feel the same ache in my chest when I gaze at this little boy sleeping in my arms. So even though he never stopped being your boy, I can now acknowledge that. I acknowledge that he's not some crazy woman's husband. He's yours. And I thank you. Thank you for letting me take care of your boy, for not saying anything when you see me do things you know he'd want done a different way. Thank you for letting me be such a special part of your boy's, and in turn, your life. Thank you for raising your baby boy into the man he is today. I love you for it.

Love,
Your Daughter-In-Law

My Experiences with Postpartum Depression

Yes, I said it. The ugly "d" word that Christians don't often talk about, the "d" word which some would call a sin, lack of self control, or just plain selfishness. While I agree that some are just struggling with sin and labeling it as depression, I do believe that there are completely sinless forms of depression, those caused by faulty wiring in the brain or a hormonal imbalance for example. And then there's postpartum depression. When did it become such a dirty thing, a term whispered through tears to only your closest of friends? As if creating a human life inside your own and pushing it out into this world isn't hard enough, you then have to sustain and care for that fragile, dependent life. And your hormones don't know what to do. They are torn between ending pregnancy, trying to get back to normal, and creating food for this little new life. According to the CDC, postpartum depression affects at least 11% of women (the study separated states, and one state was as high as 20%). So why isn't this being talked about?

When my first child was born, the instant she came into this world, a love so strong that I felt it physically, came to me instantly. In that moment, my life changed. I knew I would die for this tiny little human, that I would move mountains to care for this little girl. Every time I looked at her those first few weeks, tears would come to my eyes. I had never known such love existed. While expecting my second child, I understood that the birth could be different. I didn't expect the postpartum experience to be different. As my second little girl came into this world, I didn't feel a thing. Oh I cried and held her, kissed her and told her she was beautiful. But I was going through the motions and it all felt so fake. All I wanted to do was crawl in a hole, so embarrassed to admit to anyone that I didn't feel any bond to my own flesh and blood. Exhaustion, tears, and hopelessness were my best friends. And the worst thing of it all: I felt alone and so, so guilty. Everyone kept saying that once you have your second child, the love just multiplies and you'll love your kids the same. So how was I to tell those people that my love wasn't multiplying? Oh, how I wish I'd had a friend come along side me during that time and tell me all of this was normal. That the bond, the love, would come in time. That it was normal to feel so sad, so guilty, and so helpless. So overwhelmed at caring for two little needy people. I praise the Lord that He saw me through those few months. I clung to my Jesus during that dark time, clung to the hope that He would carry me through. And He did.

Fast forward to today. I finally feel I am reaching the shallow water in the ocean that is postpartum depression. The past 7 weeks have felt like treading water with no shoreline in sight. But this time was very different than the last. As with my first, I once again felt that physical surge of love, joy, and raw emotion the instant I saw my baby's tiny face. A love so fierce that I literally felt  it squeezing my heart and soul. But along with that unbreakable bond came overwhelming anxiety. A day after his birth, while in the hospital, I broke down sobbing, telling my husband I was terrified to go home. "How can I take care of four children this young? How can I be a good mother to my three toddlers while still being a good mother to my newborn?" . . . and I slowly saw the shoreline disappear. Besides the love I felt for my new baby, I had no emotions. No compassion, no patience, no happiness. Nothing could make me laugh, nothing could make me care. I wanted nothing more than to hold my baby and ignore every thing and every one. At one point, when my oldest asked me for more juice, I told her to leave me alone. (This was right before my husband told me to call my doctor.) Everything my toddlers did, bad or even good, made me angry. I just felt so overwhelmed. So very overwhelmed at caring for all these dependent, needy people. But again, the worst part of it all is feeling guilty for feeling and being this way, feeling alone, helpless and hopeless in this adventure that is motherhood. Only after talking to my doctor, being on Zoloft for 3 days before switching to a homeopathic alternative, and reaching out to friends and family who have been praying with me and for me, have I started to feel better. I still am not back to normal. Every day, I am overwhelmed by the needs of my four children. I have to work at loving my husband and my toddlers, and I have to work at giving soft answers that turn away wrath. I have to work at showing Jesus to my children while I am so desperately clinging to His feet. But there is hope. My Jesus knows my needs and provides. My mom has been here to help, my mother-in-law just arrived today, and friends have stepped up to the plate without being asked. God has placed people in my life for whom I am so grateful. He knows our needs and provides them!

So let's talk about it. Let's not shame other women into feeling like motherhood is a piece of cake by not talking about how hard it is. It's hard. And it's normal to be overwhelmed, and even to feel helpless and alone. But talk to someone, friends or family, and get help! Most importantly, cling to truth.

Philippians 4:8 states "whatever is true, . . . whatever is lovely, . . . think on these things." And Hebrews 13:5 quotes Jesus as saying "I will never leave you nor forsake you." He will never leave us. Even when I haven't showered for a week and I'm covered in puke, poop, and snot, and I'm sitting on the floor crying to Him that I can't make it through the day. He will never leave me. Praise His holy name!

A Mother's Prayer

A few months ago, I received a card from my mom in the mail. A sweet note was written inside along with an old piece of paper. In her note, she explained she had found this small piece of paper in a wallet tucked way back in her dresser drawer. The paper she carried around for years had this poem written on it:

Oh give me patience when tiny hands tug at me with their small demands.
And give me gentle and smiling eyes, keep my lips from sharp replies.
And let not fatigue, confusion or noise obscure my vision of life's fleeting joys.
So when, years later, my house is still, not bitter memories its rooms may fill.
                                             - Author Unknown

These Days

I am finding these days to be hard ones emotionally. As the aches and pains of the third trimester set in a little early this final time around, I find myself not wanting the time to pass quickly. I've never enjoyed pregnancy. Oh sure, the excitement of a new life, the rolls and kicks, the decorating, the shopping, and the planning and preparing are all wonderful. And most of all, there is another life to love, another miracle to cherish. I wouldn't trade those things for the world. But pregnancy does not treat my body well. Nine months of non-stop nausea, sleeplessness, and even bed rest are all the norm for me. I usually find myself begging the clock to tick faster, for the time until the little one comes into this world to speed up, but of course, slow down upon his or her arrival. But it's very different this time around. While friends are talking about starting their families and expanding their families by one more, I'm done. And as much as I dislike the physical state of being pregnant, I know I will miss it. I'll miss the excitement of imagining ten tiny toes, the joy I feel when I find that perfect coming home outfit. I'll miss feeling hiccups, the happy dance after I eat ice cream, and seeing my belly move when my baby is in there spinning like a top. So I'll cherish these days of back aches and rib soreness. I'll smile when I wake up in the middle of the night to kicks and punches. These days can go just a little slower. I'll miss them when they're gone.

Zulily

I have discovered the amazing world of Zulily. I've heard lots of friends talk about it, and after searching everywhere for church dresses for my two toddler girls, I looked at Zulily, an online company. Over the past couple weeks, I've found Easter dresses as well as other Sunday dresses for half the cost I would find the same dresses (even same brand names) at discount stores such as Ross, TJ Max, and Burlington Coat Factory. You will recognize the brands, so you know the quality. You will see lots of new sales and products  every day. Their products mainly feature clothing for babies, children, and women, but have men's clothing every once in a while as well. They also have decorating products, home storage and organization products, and well, a little bit of everything. I'm terribly addicted, I check every morning when they post their new deals just to see if something I've been looking for is on a super sale! Check it out here: Zulily

Whew!

I can't believe it's been so long since I've taken the time to write my thoughts down for the day! We've had family in for the holidays, sick kids, family matters to deal with, and . . . when did Christmas get so crazy?!? Through it all, I can gladly say that we have seen God working through it all. We were able to enjoy Christmas Day with family while being a family to our neighbor, a sweet sister in Christ. We've seen Christ's love in our family through forgiveness, grace, mercy, and His love evident in our actions. I am so happy to be a child of the King!

One of my favorite Christmas memories this December was using the magnetic nativity to tell the girls the Christmas story. While our just-turned-two-year-old was more interested in running off with the magnets, our just-turned-three-year-old had so much fun! She helped by placing the magnets on the fridge when it was time (or whenever she wanted) and loved saying the lines of the innkeeper and Joseph. However, we think she mixed the two, because she kept yelling "No babies here! Go to the barn!" when it was time for Joseph to knock on the door of the inn.

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's celebration. (If you're a stay at home mom like me, you may have woken up at midnight to fireworks wondering what was going on before realizing that other people still have lives . . . ) Well, I hope to get back to more regular blogging now that some of the craziness is over. I can't wait to see what God has for us this coming year!

Food for Thought

I just posted a random comment on facebook about the song "Mary Did You Know" and it started quite the conversation. I love making myself think about these things that I believe we'll never know the answers to - at least this side of Heaven. So I thought I'd share and see what your thoughts are.

I just made the comment that since having children, I can not listen to the song without crying or at least tearing up. Here are the lyrics: (Have you ever really listened to them?)

   Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?
   Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?
   Did you know that your Baby Boy has come to make you new?
   This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

   Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?
   Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?
   Did you know that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?
   When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

   The blind will see.
   The deaf will hear.
   The dead will live again.
   The lame will leap.
   The dumb will speak
   The praises of The Lamb.

   Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy is Lord of all creation?
   Mary, did you know that your Baby Boy would one day rule the nations?
   Did you know that your Baby Boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
   The sleeping Child you're holding is the Great, I Am.

I emphasized the phrases that just knock me off my feet. I have had the blessing of holding three precious babies after delivering them. Each time, I brought them close, kissed them, cradled their face and studied their features like my life depended on it. So overwhelmed by love, in a heartbeat, I meet them and know that I would die for them. I have to assume Mary felt all this, but did she know? Did she know that her precious baby would one day give His life for her? because of her sins? We know from Scripture that Mary knew He was going to be Savior of all. But I have wondered, and came to the conclusion (whether it be right or wrong we will never know) that she did not know of the horrifying death Jesus would suffer. I think (again, clearly speculation) that God would have protected her from such awfulness. I can't imagine it being possible to live day to day life having that burden of information. Anyway, I just find this song so fascinating now that I have gone through the emotional experience of giving birth and falling in love with a newborn baby. If you have thoughts on all this, please share!

FAQ - Gender

I have never been this tired in my life. Never. Ok, maybe back when I had mono in college. Maybe. But it's close. This is by far, the most I've felt the 'exhausted' symptom of pregnancy. I guess having three kids will do that to ya'! By the time the kids are in bed, I have no ability to form a complete thought, let alone a sentence. So I thought I'd share the answer to the most asked question I've been receiving lately: are you hoping for a boy or a girl?

Ultimately, I want a healthy baby, preferably human. After that, for selfish reasons, a girl sounds really nice. Girl clothes are about 1,000 times more cute and fun to put on your baby. However, I'm really hoping for a boy. My Michael could really use a brother! The poor boy chases a pink princess ball and chews on a purple teapot, for crying out loud! Another reason I'm hoping for a boy is the name we have chosen for a boy: Clayton Mitchell. Mitchell is my dad's name, and Clayton was my grandfather's name. Grandpa just passed away at the end of last year. His picture belongs in the dictionary next to the word "Grandpa", for he embodied all that the title is supposed to be. Always smiling, always loving, always willing to give hugs, dance with us, and join in the tea parties. I felt safe in his arms, loved beyond measure in his hugs, and I will never see a Werther's caramel without thinking of him. I would love nothing more than to honor him and his memory by giving his name to a baby boy.

Of course, in the end, it doesn't matter a bit, but that's my answer. :)

New Year's Resolutions

Yes, it's weird to be thinking about New Year's resolutions in November. However, we just rented and watched "New Year's Eve". I will warn you - horrible movie! Bad acting, horrible story line, you name it. Anyway, it made me think of what I would put on a resolution list. I really couldn't think of anything - until the kids woke up from their naps. If you've never heard what a house with three under three sounds like, close your eyes and imagine the very definition of 'loud'. Toys being banged against just about anything, one child singing at the top of her lungs, another yelling happily, and most likely the last one screaming bloody murder at something done to him or her by a sibling. So even when it's not unhappy noise, our house is always loud. My resolution would not be to change that. I like our 'loud'. To me, it sounds like fun, family, love, and childhood. What I would change? My volume. I realized that even when I'm not getting after the kids or unhappy at all, I still can get pretty loud. Most of the time the reason I raise my voice is just to be heard. But I'm realizing that's just making me raise my voice, oh, about 90% of the day. Then I realized it's kind of hard to differentiate between a 'voice raised to be heard' and my stern voice. So I am resolving, right now in November, to quiet my voice. Trust me - this house doesn't need any adult voices adding to our wonderful loud. I'm also hoping that if I quiet my voice, my heart, and those of my children, will be quieted when I do have to discipline and use my serious tone. What would you resolve as a Mommy?

Whirlwind Weekend

This past weekend was a crazy one, so please forgive me for not posting. Thursday was our baby's nine month check-up, and we found out he had an ear infection. It seemed that as soon as we knew about the infection, Michael started acting like something was actually bothering him. So a cranky, teething, infected baby didn't make things any better. Friday came and brought our first ultrasound of our newest munchkin. We found out I wasn't as far along as the Dr.'s office had originally calculated. I was kind of planning on this, seeing as this is my fourth time to the ballgame, but just knowing for sure that I have to add two weeks to the due date they originally gave me was disappointing for sure. When you're pretty sick while pregnant and caring for three little hooligans, adding two weeks of pregnancy is just adding two weeks of misery. So there was that. And then my Dr. told me the blood and urine tests from the nurse appointment a few weeks ago came back positive for the Group B Strep. This knocked the wind out of me. I tried not to sob right there in the office. While this may sound silly, I tested positive for my first two babies, and negative for the third. The first time around, the antibiotics they put in your IV to treat for the Group B was worse than childbirth. Seriously. I am not exaggerating. I wasn't aware that you could be positive and then negative for the next one, so I didnt' expect any different with my second. It still was awful, but I only had a four hour labor, so it wasn't as nightmare-ish as the first time. By the third time around, I did research on the whole nasty thing and discovered you could be negative after being positive. So I prayed. Every day until the test at 37 weeks. It was negative and I praised God that I didn't have to have the antibiotics in my IV during childbirth. Since the infection already showed up, I'm not even going to be tested later. I'm getting treated. Period. End of story. When discussing this with my OB, as I said, I wanted to cry. I held it together until I got home and then lost it while talking with my friend who had so graciously watched our munchkins for us. I then lost it again later that day multiple times. I guess I felt robbed. Cheated. I felt my hope had been pulled out from under me. I felt God wasn't even giving me the chance to pray. Of course, I know that is not how God works, that He loves me, and knows what's best. While it is still highly disappointing and frustrating, I am trying to focus on His grace and love, not the circumstances of my little world and the extra pain this childbirth will bring. On Saturday we celebrated our oldest's third birthday with friends and family, which ended up being an all-day affair. Sunday was church and three messed up schedules, Monday was three very cranky, tired, will-not-take-naps children, which ended by a very cold trip to the playground and an impromptu trip to a pumpkin patch. Today was Megan's third birthday. It's been three years! Three years since the best day of my life (even with the stupid antibiotics in the stupid IV - yes I'm still upset - but in a "I know God is good, but I hate this fallen world we live in" kind of upset) when I held my precious baby in my arms, knowing in that instant I would die for her without hesitation. Three years since I truly learned the meaning of unconditional love. I am still floored that God loves me, little insignificant me, just as much and more than I love these babies He's blessed us with. So that's my life, just a whirlwind, but just a vapor.

"For what is your life? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away."

- James 4:14

I love you because . . .

Magnetic pocket picture frame: $3.50
Scrapbook paper: $0.59
Helping our marriage: priceless

Third shift, two toddlers and an infant don't exactly create the perfect combo for a romantic marriage. Some days, we have to work at loving each other.  It may seem cheesy, but we've been enjoying writing down different things. Some things written are sweet and sentimental, others quite humorous. It's always fun to think of something to write down, and the warm fuzzy feeling you get when your hubby writes something sweet is priceless!

Letting Go

I'm learning to let go. I'm letting go of my preconceived notions of beauty. I used to think a beautiful house meant everything in its place, everything clean, a pleasant smell when you walk in the door, and perfectly decorated rooms. Today, my definition of a beautiful house is quite different. My house is covered with toys, dust builds up on bookshelves, and I'm pretty sure my house smells like poop. But I think it's beautiful. Scattered building blocks and dust covered picture frames mean that my children have a Mommy who plays with them and doesn't ignore them to get the house clean. And as far as a perfectly decorated house? Today, beautiful interior decoration is a paper chain. There is great beauty in colored construction paper stapled together. There is beauty because when I look at it, I see little hands covered in marker scribbles, crooked circles which turn into "bapples", and marker tips getting smushed with each pounding. I hear two little girls singing "Winnie the Pooh" with me at the top of their lungs, giggles after making funny faces, and shouting over our marker-sword fight. My paper chain is beautiful. My house is a home.

 

 

Happiness Is . . .

Pink and Purple Toes

 

Dirty Little Shoes

Oddly enough, lots of pink things make me happy these days. My sweet baby boy is adding lots of blue to the house, and that makes me happy, too!





Heritage

I lift my foot off the pedal, pausing the frantic buzzing of the machine to check my stitch. My hand stops mid-air and automatically moves to turn the handwheel as I notice the needle out of the fabric. As I turn the wheel, I hear my mother's voice in my head "Make sure the needle is down if you're stopping a stitch.". I think of my mom every time I sew. She literally taught me everything I know about sewing. She is quite the amazing woman. She is also the one responsible for teaching me how to cook, take care of children, keep a house, sew, knit, and much much more. And she learned it all from her mother.

I think the art of being a wife and mother is being lost in today's society. Girls are growing up not knowing how to cook, clean, or even sew a button on a shirt. Please don't think I'm a doormat or slave to my husband. I'm not. I gladly serve him. Proverbs 31 doesn't describe the excellent wife as a slave. But it does tell us that an excellent wife knows how, and does in fact, sew, cook, clean, care for her children, run a household, and even run a business (sells clothing) she has made. Because of this passage, I think it is necessary for us moms to be passing all this on to our daughters. How do we expect our girls to know how to be a Godly, excellent wife if we aren't modeling this for them and teaching them? I am so very grateful to my mother and grandmother for being Godly, excellent wives and mothers. I'm not saying we all can be perfect at everything (if you know me, you know that I am not the amazing cook my mother is - it just doesn't come easily to me), but Proverbs 31 sets a standard to strive towards. Even if you don't have a Godly heritage, you can start one for your children. I pray that I continue this heritage and can pass along these skills and abilities to my daughters.

This is a picture of my grandmother holding my baby boy. There is something so incredibly special about watching your grandparent hold your child. Also, you'll notice that my grandma has her nails perfectly painted. While editing this picture, I noticed the nail polish and it made my heart smile.

Good Mom

Today, being a good mom meant . . .

• putting diapers on puppies, kitty cats, and horsies.
• playing instead of cleaning up after lunch.
• dancing to samba music (from the movie 'Rio') with the girls.
• having my face covered in pukey slobber by a 6 month old's kisses.
• reading three books a hundred times (maybe a slight exaggeration) each.
• pretending to be horribly disgusted when a certain stuffed puppy had 'stinkies' in his diaper.
• coloring Winnie the Pooh with a purple crayon even though it drives me NUTS to not be coloring him yellow.

Skinny Thighs Can Kill

"Danish scientists found that women with skinny thighs had a higher risk of heart disease and premature death than those with meatier ones." - Parenting July 2012

Maybe this means I'll live forever!

Sometimes . . .

Sometimes, being a good mom means . . .

• squishing invisible bugs.
• kissing fake boo-boos.
• reading a book to two toddlers while sitting on the toilet.
• making up songs about everyone in our family.
• being a dragon that "flies" around the living room and blows fire.
• pretending I don't see the little girl hiding behind a chair yelling "Where go, girl?"
• singing the Blue's Clues theme song countless number of times.
• dancing to songs that Megan makes up about going shopping.
• having lots of fun!