A Mama's Feelings About The Pandemic

“Dad, I’m sorry I made new friends and wanted to play with them.”

-Reese Elisabeth. January 19, 2021

Unprovoked, not guilted, not shamed, not scolded. Just a girl who felt badly today when she rode her bike in the neighborhood and excitedly saw some girls close to her age.

F THIS PANDEMIC.

That’s how I feel. That’s how we feel. And I would bet it’s how YOU feel too.

How old are your kids? Reese is seven years old, Pierson is eight. And this is their childhood. When every day, we are reminded that the world around us is CRUMBLING, still, with the global pandemic. It’s been no one’s FAULT. A LOT of people have gotten sick, are sick, I will never poo poo that.

But right now, my heart hurts for kids. Asa grew up in a subdivision type neighborhood and remembers riding his bike ALL day with friends from all over it. Being outside for hours on end, running and playing….and since I grew up in the country and NOT in a neighborhood, I just remember playing with the cows next door and having ZERO issues. I’m kiddingggggg, I remember going to church every Sunday and playing with my best friends, and I have all the best memories of playing Barbie dolls, going for walks and just enjoying being a GIRL.

The past year? My kids were robbed of that. Will there be other times and moments for them to make friends? Sure. But read the quote at the start of this post again. “I’m sorry I made new friends and wanted to play with them.”

There’s really nothing I can do to FIX this. Both Asa and I are getting the covid vaccine soon (Asa on FRIDAY of this week); as teachers in a huge district and the need for these kids to GO back to in person classes, we believe it’s what is best. And you know what? I hope and pray that the ‘right amount’ of people will GET vaccinated, and that the spread will lessen insanely. I hope and pray my kids can run and play and be wild and crazy and play tag and hide and seek and ride bikes and go IN the houses of FRIENDS.

My sweet girl. The one I was so shocked and frankly upset to be pregnant with EIGHT years ago this week. She’s my warrior. My spitfire. My Spunky Brewster.

When Asa Glass kissed my forehead that day and said, “We’re going to have a baby,” little did he or WE know…how stinking BLESSED we would be. Oh how I remember those thoughts: I wasn’t ready to be pregnant AGAIN, or to have a baby AGAIN. And look at her now. Reese has big feelings (like her mama) and she has a huge heart. She’s an extrovert at large and thrives on relationships. Friends are her love language (like her daddy.)

Our kids, Y’all. They’re not perfect but man do they have hearts of gold! If you’re hurting for your kids lately, will you comment on this post? We are in this together, mamas (and daddies) and friends and family. Asa shared to his Twitter account how he was sad for Reese with her statement and he had two friends immediately respond: “It’s hard for a 39 year old.” “And a 37…”

It’s HARD! And I’m giving you a big, giant, smothered HUG right now!

“Blessed is the one who trusts in the LORD, and whose hope is the LORD.” -Jeremiah 17:7

xx

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.

Motherhood and Sick Days

Most days I don’t think about my role, being Mom just seems normal. But there are a couple instances when I have felt like my heart is walking outside of my body and one of the times was when I went on vacation for the first time without my kids, and Asa and I were simply ALONE. Just the two of us. Without our kids. The first day I remember being somewhat giddy and excited and READY for several days with JUST my husband. And then I woke the next morning and my heart had disappeared. GONE. I was anxious and confused and overwhelmed and wondering constantly IF my kids were okay. Would the sitters remember to do this or that or what to sing them or how to comfort them? My heart was outside of my chest as I walked around the city and the beach, and as people passed us by—”They don’t know that I’m a Mom,” I thought.

To some of you, that may sound crazy ;) But to many of you, you’re like, “I get it.”

Once you’re Mom, you’re MOM. And while often you may not think about it because you’re doing the day in and day out and the chores and routine…but do you KNOW how important this role IS?

Enter how I have recently began to feel on sick days. Not my sick days, where I’m feeling like crap and missing MY mom—but the days where fevers are burning my sweet kiddos bodies, their heads are throbbing with headaches, their legs are weak with fatigue, they’re cranky and emotional and exhausted. These days. My heart starts walking outside of my chest and it grasps at their six and seven year old selves. My role as MOM explodes with such uniqueness. I think it was when our kids turned four and five and the baby and toddler days just felt so far behind me; that was when it hit me like a ton of bricks that these days are FLEETING. When they’re sick, who do they want?

Mom.

Dads and husbands, please don’t take offense at this post. Lord knows my kids ADORE their Dad and he is quite literally the BEST Dad there is. Our kids will sit on his lap and rock with him and cuddle, but then it’s time for Mom. The phrase used to be, “Mommy put me down,” when they couldn’t construct great sentences. Now they can actually say, “I love you, Dad. I want Mommy…”

There’s something about being needed isn’t there? Maybe that’s mostly what it is... Having tiny souls want you and need you and love you with all of their being. I kind of laughed as I wrote this out, it sounds so SELFISH. But this blog is really for me to remember how I feel. When our kids are sick, the Mom gene inside of me goes full fledge into overdrive and I’m there for it all. When they wake crying because their fever spikes, my feet fly up the stairs. I hum and sing and stroke their foreheads. I bring fresh cups of ice water and fill their diffusers with all the right blends to make their rooms cozy and clean. There’s something about being MOM on their sick days, that is so fulfilling; that is so valuable. They won’t always need me the way that their little selves do. And I finally understand how my own mom must feel with her daughter living six hours away. Probably like a piece or two of HER heart is outside of her chest… (I wonder if she knows how I FEEL when I am sick?!) When a fever hits me, guess who is the first for me to text and complain to? Yup…my mom!

Also don’t get me wrong—I don’t LIKE when our kids are sick. Heavens, no. I know that there are sicknesses FAR WORSE and more severe than the colds and viruses ours come down with; all I really mean, is that sometimes it is mundane to be Mom, when really there is nothing mundane about it. When they were newborns and then toddlers and were needing me on sick days, it was so different than it is now. It consisted of a lot more HOLDING and rocking and nursing and cuddling. They keep getting older; their legs keep getting longer and more difficult to fit on my lap…they keep becoming more independent.

But they keep needing me. And I pray to God that I NEVER take that for granted.

These thoughts inspired me to create a FREEBIE for YOU. Sign up below to grab my new download, ‘Wellness Support for You & Your Littles.’ Save it, print it, share it, use it. And if you have any questions, always email me! I love hearing from my readers and I am so thankful for ALL of you.

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!