Go to Bed! Except Wait...I Miss You, So Maybe Don't??

Let’s talk about bedtime. No not your bed time or mine, but when OUR kids go to bed. Its like magic once you’ve said the last goodnight, filled the last cup of water and finally… you can breathe. Let’s be honest, my husband and I eat most nights at 9 o’clock at night because we find it more relaxing to enjoy our meal when the kids aren’t around. I know, that’s sad, and fairly unhealthy. But it’s kinda our reality in this busy season. Some days we feel like we are simply SURVIVING until bedtime so that we can finally live. Oh, and when did they start in on begging us to stay up late? Don’t those tiny demons know what they are really asking? Asking me to give up the 2 hours of my day that I get to be irresponsible. Asking me to sacrifice time on my couch, in my sweats, with MY show. No Peppa Pig or stinkin’ Blimpy allowed. Don’t get me started on Blimpy. That guy has to go. (Does he remind you of modern day PeeWee, anyone??)

Our week days start at 6 am, and we give, and work, and serve them and others all day. So 15 hours later, at 9pm, when its finally still and quiet…darnet, I want it still and quiet. Sometimes I wish my husband would recognize that those two hours of quiet isn’t an invitation for sex, nah. It’s simply mommy’s personal quiet and Netflix time. (Heartland anyone??? Just me???)

Ok, in all fairness, this is a wee bit extreme. Maybe I feel this way sometimes. Most days are so long I sincerely can’t WAIT til bedtime. But it never fails, 10-15 minutes of quiet and my mom heart starts to miss them. Starts hoping they are having sweet dreams. My mom heart wants to go snuggle them, kiss them one last time. Because heck yes they are exhausting, but I’d rather be exhausted for this love than anywhere else. The other night I went in and snuggled up next to Reese while she was asleep. I wondered, a.) how creepy would it be for her to wake up and see me staring at her?? and b.) does she know HOW deeply she is loved?? I also prayed, “God, please help her to always be good. To always seek YOU. Lord… PLEASE don’t let her do the stupid shit I used to do before I found Asa.”

And THEN I wondered, “Does anyone else cuss when they pray?!?” I don’t do it REGULARLY, but let’s be real, it happens.

Anyway, I digress. Our kids are 5 and 6 years old currently. People ask if life is ‘easier’ (what does that mean??) now that they’re “older.” No, no it does not mean this. Sometimes life seemed more simple when our daughter was a newborn and our son was a toddler. Now they have opinions and REAL voices and they know how to manipulate and beg and LIE (don’t get me started on that because trust me, that’s a future blog post in of itself….) Right now we are teaching them how to read their Bibles, how to pray, how to treat each other (I feel we’ve always tried to do that…??? But it’s nooooooot working sooooooo maybe someone else should give it a try???) Our days are long. We’re tired. We balance 5 million bajillion things. Sometimes, all we want is bedtime.

Except we don’t. Being a parent might be addicting. How can you be so damn tired, wore out, frustrated, annoyed, impatient, and on the last straw a hundred times…yet, also love being needed SO incredibly much. This is life. Right here, right now. My motherhood. And I suppose it’s safe to say that I love every crazy tiring minute.

Stop the Body Shaming, Your Kids are Listening

My husband and I from the beginning of our kids’ lives, promised we would never body-shame ourselves in front of or near them. This was and is something we are extremely passionate about, simply because we realize the detriment it can cause on children, and how it can greatly shape their adult lives.

Especially the F word, and no, Y’all, not the four letter one; the three letter one.

F-A-T

It’s not something we ever say about ANYONE, and we have worked hard to give our kids a healthy understanding of that word. The word itself, fat, is not neccesarily a bad word, unless used in a derogatory way against or about a person. I haven’t been one who has struggled with weight problems, but trust me, I have plenty of other critiques that I have about and against my appearance. For instance, recently I have been experiencing super puffy under-eyes. They’ve been more prone to swelling, to my eyelids drooping more than usual, and I have often looked completely sleep deprived and exhausted because of that, even though I am not. I think allergies have had a huge part in that, among I’m sure, other things (ahem, like being 30, and my skin just changing as I age!) I just experienced a huge slap in the face and broken heart over the fact that I have been WAY too verbal about my dislike regarding my eyes…………….

Reese went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, and her Dad was with her. Stepping onto the stool to rinse her brush, she peered into the mirror. We heard her say, “I don’t like this light in here. I don’t like seeing my freckles.

I’M SORRY……WHAT?!?!?

Asa and I looked at each other in disbelief. “Reese Elisabeth,” we said. “Your freckles are BEAUTIFUL! YOU are beautiful. God made your freckles and you are pretty special because of that.”

My husband sent me a private text message, so that she couldn’t hear what was said. “I wonder where she heard that…” he sent. At first, I was kind of annoyed and upset by it, but the truth is, I was ashamed. Just the other day I stood in that same bathroom and told Asa that I couldn’t stand the light in there (he had switched the light bulbs) because I hated how my eyes looked. I had no idea Reese was anywhere around, I thought she was downstairs at the time. But if I’m being honest, I don’t know if I would have censored that sentence because to me it didn’t really feel ‘body image’ related. But it was!!

As I tucked Reese into bed that night, I asked her if she had ever heard Mommy talk meanly about herself. “Yeah,” she said. And then she literally grabbed my face with her two hands to say, “I heard you say you didn’t like your eyes when they were swollen.” She continued down a rabbit hole after that, and none of what she said afterward really pertained to that question, but there it was: she had overheard her Mommy talking meanly about herself.

I paused her and took her hands. “Reesie, I am so sorry I said that. The truth is, I don’t like it when my eyes are swollen or puffy, because that’s not how they normally look. But honey, I love myself because God made me, and HE loves me. He doesn’t like it when I say something mean about the way that I look, because He is the one who created me.” I then told her that God made HER too. And that I hope and pray that she always loves herself—her freckles, her eyes, her hair color. I hope that she has confidence in how strong she is, brave, smart, and talented too. Really, Y’all, my heart just felt sad.

Your kids?Or your friends’ kids?! They are LISTENING. Even if they aren’t close by, they can hear you. They are WATCHING how you look at yourself in a mirror. Or if you avoid the mirror completely. They notice that. They are also listening to how you speak to other adults ABOUT yourself.

Your conversations are no longer JUST your conversations.

You are in charge of raising tiny little people who will grow up someday to be big people, and more likely than not, mothers and fathers themselves.

What are you saying? Are you talking about your weight or how fat you are? Do you openly talk about how unsatisfied you are with the number on the scale, or how you need to workout to look better? Fitness is not a negative thing. I am not saying it’s wrong to strive to lose weight or to be in better shape—but I do think it is important how you word it. “Mommy goes to the gym to be STRONG, Baby. I want to be healthy and to have a healthy heart and body!” When Asa and I want to get in better shape, we work hard. We run on the treadmill, lift weights, walk around the neighborhood; and our kids watch us. Pierson loves to work out with his Dad and is constantly trying to be “strong like Dad.” Reese will dance to music in the room I am in while I run on the treadmill. She will yell, “Good job, Mom!” as I go.

So I’ve realized…we may air on the side of caution REALLY well when it comes to fitness goals and being healthy, however, I do NOT love myself well enough in front of my kids when it comes down to overall appearance. I was always the kid with acne. Bright red, painful acne. Mirrors were ALWAYS hard for me and truthfully, still to this day they are. I don’t struggle with acne as MUCH or in the same capacity, but I still don’t love looking at myself. Did you know I get ready in the dark 1.) because I hate bright light in the morning but 2.) because I literally don’t like looking at myself in the mirror after I have first woken up?

What does that teach my daughter? My son?

Sisters and friends, we can do better. We SHOULD do better. I talked on my Instagram stories recently and asked my lady friends for some advice, on how they hope to instill positive self-love in their children/future children. I had so many great direct messages and responses, and I wanted to share a few of them with you here. Click the photo to check out their social media accounts!

Holding Tight to Holding YOU

Since the kids were babies, my husband and I always made it a point to hold them during the actual worship. As they grew, they became very accustomed to immediately lying their head on our shoulders and nestling into the crook of our necks. From birth to their current ages, five and six, we have held them and embraced these precious moments of the church service.

My daughter always runs to me to hold her first. A song ends, and then we switch kids. It’s always been that way, it’s my normal on a Sunday morning. Last week though she tapped me as I sang. “Mommy, can Dad hold me now?” “Sure, when the song is over. Why do you want to switch now though?” She kind of giggled and then said, “Mommy, you’re just too small. Daddy can hold me better.”

I KNEW this day was coming. I read an article several years ago about this mom who was reminiscing of the days she was able to hold her son. She talked about how she always wondered when the day would come that he was ‘too big’ to be held, and that day of course came, breaking her heart when it did. I actually regret ever finishing that article, Y’all, because from that point on I thought about it ALL the time. And my son, who is six, has gotten SO dang tall, his long legs dangle way past my knees and almost to my shins. Holding him on my hip can be done, but is incredibly difficult; so when it has been my ‘turn’ to hold him for a song, I generally sit down and tickle his back. That same Sunday though, as he tried to nestle onto my shoulder he just couldn’t stop moving. “Pierson, be still, buddy,” I said. “I’m not comfortable, Mom,” he replied. And I knew he wasn’t. As a five foot two woman, I KNOW that I am little. My genetics have me a little bonier than maybe an average person? And I knew when he was squirming and moving that this too, would not be ‘comfortable’ for him much longer.

Babies turn into toddlers, who turn into kids, who I know will turn into teenagers and adults. Am I alone in my struggle of being broken hearted over this fact of life? I know that each stage is wonderful, and truthfully, I have loved ALL of their ages. [Okay…our daughter’s “threes” was VERY challenging…but still, I think I would go back for a while to that age?] My friend Chrissy recently said on Instagram about her new baby girl, “I would say, don’t grow up, but if you never got bigger than we couldn’t go get our nails done and watch chick flicks together, so I’ll just say I’m enjoying YOU in all the phases of life.”

NAILED IT.

That quote is so spot on with my life right now that I’m holding on really tightly to that truth. I may not be able to hold my children the way I once could…but I so love all our experiences together now that they’re older. Earlier this week Reese plopped down on the couch with me and asked if she could watch my favorite show Heartland with me [totally nerdy and cheesy horse show if you don’t know]. Also in her prayers, she prays for our horses DAILY. She even includes Addie, the mare who Paddy has lived with for six months. She has a GIANT heart and I know that she admires me a lot in this current season of life. How sweet is that?! I mean really? My daughter LIKES me, and I’m also holding tight to THAT amazing blessing. And with my son, I know that I can spend quality time with him building Legos, taking him for Queso at El Nopal, or browsing the toy aisle at Target and he will have the BEST time. And I also know that while he is bigger now…he still needs me. If he loses sight of me in a crowd, I can see immediate panic in his eyes. At bedtime, we still cuddle. He still holds my hand, and hugs me tight multiple times a day.

They’re growing. And we can’t stop it. So I may as well embrace it. And yes, I may be little, but so is my own mama and I tell you what: every time I get to spend time with her in Michigan, I often plop down on her lap and still get those back tickles :) I cherish hers and I’s relationship. The fact that she’s the one I want to call every single day after work. She’s the one I want to text all my horse photos to, the one I can cry with, laugh with, and pray with. If I’m thirty and have this type of relationship with my mom, I know that the same can be true of my kids when they’re on their own. [Well, I can pray at least..!]

New mamas, hold tightly to those new and tiny babies of yours. And I’ll hold ever so tightly to my five and six year old, who soon, won’t fit on this hip of mine anymore.

Photos by Jana Glass