Mid Year, Mid Life, Mid 30's?!

That number feels super weird coming out of my mouth. 35. Thirty-FIVE? Officially MID thirties now, right!? Everyone said that ’30’s is awesome,’ buuuut is it….? Let’s see. Maybe reflecting on this phenomona will help me realize it….

I got my first HORSE when I turned 30. Dream come true. 

I lost my dream job I never knew was my dream job (voluntarily, that still counts.) Boo. 

I got diagnosed with MS. Weird. Tough. Kinda shocking.

I got to meet pregnant teens and mamas and establish meaningful and longterm relationships with several of them. What a cool opportunity!! 

We have fallen in love with our church, Northeast Christian, and are meeting new friends. 

I ran my self-made mini marathon in my 30’s all by myself, that was cool. 

I lived through a pandemic in my 30’s. Weird. Sad. Thankful for healthcare.

I started intentional and semi intense therapy for myself, and my marriage, in my 30’s. That’s been eye opening. 

My son got accepted into the best middle school in the district, state really, and I teach there for part of my work day. Pretty darn neat. 

I had some really fun and cool partnerships these past few years, and have done well photography speaking. That’s awesome. 

Had my first spinal tap, suffered immensely from the post lumbar migraine, and I NEVER want to live through that again..

Got a new tattoo on my bday last year, definitely want another. 

Kinda weird, but 35 means a whole new age demographic. I’ve surpassed 25-34 and now I’m in the 35-44 range! It feels weird to tell my students that I’m 35 or that I just had my 35th birthday, in which most say, “You don’t look that old!!” THAT old. 

But you know what? I feel like these days and with SOME things, I’m thinking more clearly. Like I can say, “look, this is me being transparent and honest and this is me.” Facing a brand new medical diagnosis was a huuuuge eye opener for me, and it was also one that showed me the greatness of God. Could I be mad and upset that I HAVE this disease? Sure! But instead I see how vastly He is has worked in my favor. Every time I lift weight and run and ride my horses, I thank Him. So this birthday I have decided that that’s statement I feel for myself regarding turning ‘another year older…’ grateful. Grateful for another year. For my health. For the Lord doing ginormous things in my sometimes mundane life. I am grateful for my family and my friends who surround and love me. There will always be another birthday to freak out about or become weirdly reflective during—but each year I HOPE I can always see how far I’ve come and that I’ll be GRATEFUL for all the steps it took to get there.

When You Doubt Yourself, Read This

One of those days I guess. Where my mind spins and I think 150 different and unique thoughts, most of them not really connected or intertwined with one another…if you’ve had a day like that, and you can maybe relate, read on, friend. You may want a cup of tea or coffee though, because it’s been a minute since I’ve written like this and it may be a while…

The summer is winding down. Well, not the heat, but the days until school is back in session. Trust me, its been over 100-degrees heat index wise for days and there’s not really an end in sight with that. But I can feel the end of our season drawing near.

I find myself wondering,

“Have I done enough?” “Were my kids happy?” “Will they remember this summer as a memorable one?” “Was I patient enough?” “Loving enough?” “Silly enough?” “Bold enough?”

Was I enough?

And then I shifted to wondering about former students. A giant chapter of my life is coming to a close, or has closed rather I suppose, as I accepted a brand new job in my teaching position for the coming school year. I worked with psychiatric and troubled youth for TEN years…it feels like so long, yet not long enough. Every year it never failed that I had repeat students. Sometimes I had them in their elementary years when I taught K-5th grades, and then they would come back to me as middle or high schoolers. Those were the really tough ones emotionally for me…

One in particular, a boy, I had in both fourth and fifth grade. I remember how much he made me LAUGH and how he helped around the classroom. He was so bright and really intelligent academically. Socially too—witty, charming, just an all around great kid. Flash forward to him entering the halls and bumping into me as a then 8th grader. I exclaimed his name with a giant smile and bear hugged him. [Bear hugs are frowned upon I guess in the teaching world, especially in a psychiatric facility, boundaries ya know?] But when you have my [then] job and a familiar face shows back up, one who made YOUR days brighter and happier, you kind of sigh a sigh of relief knowing (or hoping) that student will be similar even though he’s older now.

He remembered my name and smiled and I was bummed he wouldn’t be in my classroom because I didn’t teach middle school, I had been teaching high school the past three years. Then he showed up on my roster and BAM, there he was, at my doorway, in a class with high schoolers, and I shook my head in disbelief. Where I worked made changes, OFTEN. You HAD to go with the flow, practice extreme flexibility, and be able to just roll with the punches. So the whole last half of the school year I DID teach middle school, AND high school. And it was fine and I loved it and I maintained great classroom management and behavior…and yet I left wondering…

Did I do enough?

I watched that child go through a Richter scale of emotions. I watched him find hope and comfort, and I watched his talents SOAR. Then I watched as his world fell apart. The goofy, class clown boy I knew and loved did a 180 and began to doubt the whole world around him. Several nights I found myself crying, wishing and praying that I could do MORE. I wanted to be able to scoop him up [okay yes, he’s bigger than me now, that wouldn’t be possible AND it would be weird], but I wanted to be able to show him normalcy and kindness and take him to basketball games and show him how a loving family COULD be. How a family COULD protect and love and walk WITH him through the hardships. He was able to leave, I said my goodbyes, told him about my new job, and I prayed to God I would maybe see him on the outside one day.

Did I do enough?

That’s one of the reasons I decided to take a leap and part ways with that job placement. It was so hard to be able to foster impacting relationships with kids. Once they left the program, that was it. And I get it—that’s the job and I knew that. My heart has been longing for more, to be able to build relationships not strictly within the classroom, but out as well. With students’ families and their communities, to be able to walk with them longer than a few days or weeks, or in that students’s case, months…

See? There’s my brain tonight. I typically feel like I want to save the world: kids’ lives, everywhere, MY kids’ lives, and often that feels like a very big task. On the flip side, I know the answer to these questions. I hope you don’t read this thinking that I honestly doubt myself THAT much, or that I have felt inferior. I know my own children are happy. In between their bickering there are so many moments and memories FULL of love and laughter. And I know that in the classrooms that I taught in, I was often the reason students also laughed and felt loved. I very rarely forgot students names with their faces. Even when it had been years between seeing them, I remembered. Most of their lives are very hard, very broken, and for some I fear what the years ahead will do to them…but I pray I left an impact on them deep down.

For now? I have 16 days left of summer break. Sixteen days left to invest wholeheartedly every day, ALL day, with our children. I’ll have a fourth and fifth grader come this school year and that BAFFLES me. After this summer, I’ll be working in a program (school) for teen mamas and pregnant teens and while I’m very nervous for change, I am also very excited to invest in these young women. If you too, have been wondering, “Am I enough? Did I DO enough?” I guarantee your answer is yes.

Sometimes it takes some time to sit back and reflect on what YOUR life has looked like. If you’re a verbal or anecdotal processor like me, jot some things down in a notebook or journal. Think about this summer, and instead of dwelling just about the times you lost your patience and snapped at your kids [trust me, it HAS happened a LOT over here….] try to remember the surprise snow cone trips you’ve made, the sleepovers you’ve let your kids have, the late night movies, the extra treats and bags of popcorn, the fireflies caught in the backyard, the time spent with family.

You were enough.
You have done enough.
You ARE enough.

This Mama's Walk Down Memory Lane: Are the Best and Most Magical Years Behind Us?

Well I just drastically found myself walking down the rabbit hole of memory lane… I’ve been here before. In a quiet house. Nothing but the sounds of wind blowing outside, the heater kicking on, the animals snoring, and in the midst of twinkly Christmas lights. The fire is crackling and my eyes are fuzzy from the long (but blessed) day I’ve had. I remember being here because the feelings of just wanting to write have graced me once more. Those days don’t come often…I just don’t make time for it like I used to. But before I crawl into bed beside my snoozing husband, I just want to write so that I don’t forget. Or so that when I do forget…I can come back and relive some of this life.

I launched this blog in 2015. Somehow five years have come and gone, and tonight as I sat in the silence I scrolled all the way down to my very first blog posts. In the middle I paused and read about our Humphrey and Elsa passing, and my heart hurts as I now write. One of the posts I also re-read was when our kids were two and three years old…in that post I described that season as magical and beautiful and how hard it was for me that the days were so fleeting. I was convinced that THOSE would be the best years I would experience….You may judge me just a little that right now, I kind of wonder if that I was right?

I’m not saying that I don’t love the stages that my kids are in NOW. They are seven and eight years old (HOW?!?) and oh my, you KNOW I love them each so dearly. But the last couple of years I will have these moments of aching for the days now behind us. New mamas reading this or expectant mamas…I used to want to punch people in the face when they told me to embrace the chaos that existed in those little years. How dare them tell me to EMBRACE the screaming and crying that often occurred when going out to eat or when pushing a shopping cart with each of them in it. Yet here I am…32-years old, wishing I had embraced those moments just a little bit tighter.

I did the best that I could have. You don’t know what you don’t know, especially when it comes to marriage and motherhood. You just DON’T! You excel, you succeed, you kick ass, and then often you also fail. Each day, you do the best you can with what you have, and you go to bed exhausted and you wake up wondering if you’re doing a good job. As I sit here, half way on my couch looking around our home…I miss the newborn days. I miss the toddler years. Heavens to Betsy, I actually MISS when they were each a threenager. Lately, their relationship with each other has been just plain tough. They fight. A lot. They bicker, they tattle, and I know I sound like I’m painting them into this awful corner of horrid children; that’s not my goal. And that’s not what I mean. But life lately is just different. They are so much bigger and maybe because they are only fifteen months apart, they simply struggle to merely get ALONG.

My relationship as their MOM, is different. I have noticed with Pierson especially, my sweet baby boy; he loves me now SO differently. His dad is his everything—his role model, his super hero, his biggest inspiration! And that is GREAT!! What a blessing that my kids have such a present and magnificent father! My big kid third grader sees me, his mama, a lot differently now compared to when he was tiny. Not to mention he’s more than half my height, and I can remember writing about being scared of the day when they’d each no longer fit in my arms. Well guess what? I can pick them up if I really need to, but y’all, they don’t FIT.

One of my sister in laws once told me she has loved every single stage of motherhood. I think I must have asked how she has handled them getting bigger and turning into the mini big kids that they are? And while I agree, I love every stage because I’m their MOM. I will always love them and celebrate them and I will forever cheer them on. But at the moment, I think I more so feel that this stage of motherhood kind of hurts? If I could turn back even a morsel of time, I wish we were in our old house, Jackson street near downtown Louisville—and that they would be tiny once again. Tiny enough to curl into my lap, that they needed to be rocked to sleep, that they needed ME because they didn’t yet have video games or Netflix or neighbor friends or other busy plans. Sounding selfish? Perhaps.

I want to make sure that I say this: my kids are amazing. They are beautiful and strong; they are intelligent and they love Jesus. And I KNOW they love each other…at the end of the day, they are generally asking if they can stay up late together and have sleepovers on each other’s floors. They are obedient and funny and their personalities are exploding as they figure out WHO they are. They still want ME to lie with them every single night, to tickle their backs and bellies and to sing a song or listen to one on Spotify…they hug me daily and tell me that they love me. They cheer ME on and support me on my many creative endeavors. They are GOOD kids.

Maybe it’s the twinkly lights and the silent house? Christmas is near and I often reminisce about those first few, where they were crawling or toddling around the tree. When life was crazy and chaotic, but at the same time…it felt a little simpler? It could also be the pandemic fatigue spurring on these feelings too, y’all know we can’t discount that we are TIRED people as a whole right now. I write all of this to say, no matter where your kids are in this season of life, no matter how big or small they are, no matter what YOU personally are feeling; let’s take a second (or some hours!!) and try to embrace their stages right NOW a little more. Are you up all night nursing and burping and wondering if you’ll ever sleep again? (You will.) Are you wondering how in the world your threenager is wearing you out SO damn much and anxiously awaiting for them to turn FOUR? (They will…and then they’ll turn five. And six. And seven. And eight…) See, this is a reminder for ME too…as I wonder if my seven and eight year old will ever need me again or if they’ll ever be the very best of friends. (Ashley…they will.)

Memory lane…it can be a beast to walk down can’t it? Here’s a quote I want to end on, my soul sister Jen Hatmaker said it in her book ‘Of Mess and Moxie:”

“Of course, in a hundred years, no one will remember any of us and our story will be lost in obscurity, but for us, for all these years when we were kids and then grown-ups, when you were young parents and then grandparents, this is the only story that ever mattered, and it was such a marvelous one. The best story I ever imagined.”

While I sit and remember, and as I remember the hardships and the blessings…I am incredibly thankful that this IS my story—and that I am their Mom.

The Summer We Didn't Set Out to Have

There was no beach trip. No walking the shore at sunrise or sunset. No white sand or avoiding jellyfish. There wasn’t a single day spent where we asked, ‘pool or beach?’ This year, our slow days looked different. The outings looked different. This was, after all, the summer that was different.

And then it dawned on me…maybe this was the perfect summer after all?

My kids fought…a LOT. I think it is literally safe to say that a day did not go by that they did NOT fight? They are fifteen months apart, and they are basically day and night different from one another. Recently my sister in law asked how I was doing, and in that exact moment, I was SO tired and SO overwhelmed. I said, “Jae, I am SO tired of my KIDS. I know that is SO incredibly terrible to say….” but it was the truth. I’m sure I had been picking up clutter or cleaning or vacuuming for the gazillionth time, and I was having a tired Mom moment. And then I heard them laughing—cracking up actually. They had been wrestling (their new favorite past time) and something clearly became funny and they were so happy. Their laugh was contagious and I started smiling, then chuckling, then I had to go find them and I started laughing too.

ALL of this time, together. Just us. Our family. Four very imperfect people. Within these walls you’ll find our three cats, one precious angel of a dog, and the four of us humans, clearly.

We have gone on a LOT of walks. We’ve been on a lot of trails. We’ve caught fish (by we there I mean my husband and son…) We’ve caught snakes (by we I mean ME on that one…) We’ve gone boating and floating in a local lake, we’ve gone horseback riding, and exploring. We’ve worked out together, ran together, learned more about God together, and really, we’ve loved one another.

These photos are from a random day we decided to wade at a nearby creek…they remind me of the summer that we didn’t necessarily set out to have, but the one that we will never, ever forget.

I realize it is not necessarily the norm for kids to have both parents who are teachers…and that summer vacations look very different for a lot of the city, state, and even world. I don’t take it lightly that we are incredibly blessed, and every single day I thank God that while I have had my moments of being tired and/or fed-up as their mom…I would not trade it for anything. Our son Pierson turned eight this summer…which theoretically means he has what, ten more summers under our roof? Sure, he can choose to stay well after he’s eighteen…but you know what I mean. The days may be long but the years are literally soaring. I thank God for photos, for these moments, and by golly dare I say it, yes, I thank Him for this summer.