Normalizing Therapy and Being Aware of Our Kids' Struggles

My first born. The one who made me Mama. This little boy has grown so fast and as cliché as it always feels to say it, time has flown by…this kiddo heads to FOURTH grade in August and I just shake my head in amazement and bewilderment that this can be possible.

He is really the most empathetic, kindest, respectful, obedient, and SWEETEST child. You know how you go through stages with each kid (if you have more than one) and it seems at one time or the other, one is the ‘easier’ kid? As soon as there seems to be a good rhythm, the other kiddo slips or is going through a challenge. ‘Buttons are never on at the same time,’ my mom worded perfectly!

Pierson’s typically the easier one, as in, doesn’t give us a run for our money with being strong willed and argumentative (ahem…) and maybe that’s a first born thing? I have no idea, I am the youngest and my daughter absolutely gets those genes from me I think. But lately, it hasn’t even been attitude or behaviors that are changing and making us puzzled as parents…it’s the fact that he’s struggled more emotionally than we’ve been able to grasp recently. The past couple of months he has been anxious, and sad. He genuinely seems to struggle with being away from us. At times his smile and melodic laugh seem so distant. We’ve always thought Pierson’s laugh was the absolute best, and some days its just missing.

This summer we have sought out a therapist and praise the Lord she could meet with him right away. It seems that he is going through some severe separation anxiety (especially from his dad) and before Asa and I take a big trip out West in a few weeks, we wanted to try to get Pierson some extra support. He’s gone to school with his dad since he was in kindergarten; riding to and from, and often Asa has even worked IN his classrooms servicing other kiddos. His dad’s always, well, been there! Sure that’s a great thing!! Who would complain about that when looking back on their kids’ growing up years?! But right now, it’s pretty tough! The pandemic did NOT help and we really didn’t know the aftermath affects it would have on our children. (Reese seems to be okay?? But you never know!) We were home together ALL the time. All day every day. Except the more we’ve thought about it, I would come and go WAY more than Asa would and does.

I have my horses thirty minutes away—so almost every day I would spend HOURS at the barn. Our kids have always been used to me having side businesses and photo sessions that take me away from the house. I tend to be more of the busy bee, and Pierson has gotten so used to Asa, ALWAYS being there. On our recent trip to Gulfport, Asa went back to the hotel room to grab some drinks and snacks (mind you, RIGHT across from the beach where we were playing), and Pierson asked me probably twenty times when his dad would be back, why his dad hadn’t came back yet, and could he text him. Asa was gone all of 15 minutes, so this wasn’t a LONG period of time. There is so much more I could write and share, but I think I will just say it’s obvious Pierson will hopefully benefit from talking with more of a professional. I plan to share more later and update the situation—maybe I will even offer more of the back story behind this. For now though, we’d love your prayers!

He has been so wonderful about it and about meeting with her. Reese has asked questions sometimes about therapy and ‘what it is,’ and we are always completely open and transparent with each of them; I say WE ALL need therapy! And that it’s a good friend for Pierson to talk to who can help him walk through his thoughts and any problems or heavy emotions he’s experiencing.

I hope and pray that he will grow through this. I know he WILL. And I also hope that I can be a patient, empathetic, and good mom through it all.

And friends, please never be scared of the T word…THERAPY. Honest to God I think every human being would benefit from having a professional therapist or counselor to talk to. We ALL have something to work through at some point in our lives and sometimes it’s just nice to have someone other than a spouse or family member to talk through our STUFF with. If you need recommendations in the Louisville area I’d love to try to help you find someone, and if you ever have questions about kids and mental health, I’d love to talk with you too. I work in a children’s’ psychiatric hospital full time and while I am NOT a professional counselor or licensed therapist, I know a fair share about loving kiddos in their struggles.

What Motherhood is Teaching Me

Do you remember being little?

Do you remember wondering what your life would be when you grew up?

Did you ever think you’d be a mom? I can vaguely remember picturing that I would have a boy and a girl (ha!) and I LOVED the name Elizabeth, so I would say I wanted a daughter named that. (Ha again; we have a Reese EliSabeth!) But much beyond that, I don’t remember too much I suppose… I didn’t really know how to dream for my adulthood I don’t think, other than hoping horses were in my future.

There are SOME things I remember though about being a KID, and one is that I thought my mom had all the answers. And then I remember being annoyed and frustrated when she was ‘right’ or if she knew ‘too much.’ I can remember being angry with her (sorry, Mom) and having way too many hormonal emotions throughout the years; but I also remember always NEEDING her. I wanted her back tickles, no matter how old I got. I wanted her to listen, even if I’d get annoyed at times when she would weigh in. I wanted her approval, even though I didn’t. I wanted her appraisal, even when it looked more like tough love.

As we have come full circle, and I have that boy and girl God knew I would have…there are a lot of things that I am feeling. I feel as if the little years painfully went too quickly. I went from pregnant to delivering healthy, beautiful babies, to chasing toddlers, to now raising a seven and eight year old. Sometimes I forget that I used to be a child. I used to poo poo my mother. I used to brush her off. I used to roll my eyes and give her the side eye. I loved her so dearly, but I know there were moments I didn’t show it. (Sorry again, Mom).

My own kids are at interesting stages and seasons of life. I feel in a way as if my little boy has left me…he was a babbling toddler and such a chatter box, and I remember his tiny voice so clearly. Now he plays basketball around the clock and geeks out over Minecraft. He can be so QUIET. Quiet isn’t bad, but I feel how much less he needs me. He’s too big for me to hold and carry (I remember blog posts I wrote dreading that…..) and more times than not I can feel his annoyance. I see the heavy sighs and eye rolls when asked to clean his room or if I ask to walk the dogs. I often feel like the ‘annoying mom,’ and then I remember…I went through that too.

And I still need and love my mom.

He still wants me to lie with him every single night. He lifts his shirt so I can gently tickle his back and belly. He still loves ‘Magic Sleepy Glasses,’ and he still wraps his arms around me to give me sweet hugs. (No more kisses on the lips though…I’m sad to type that I think those days may be gone.) He’s still my little boy, my forever first baby, and I just PRAY—when he grows up, he will remember how very much I have always loved him.

My daughter too, loves me differently these days. PS: I know all of this is very normal. It’s part of ‘growing up,’ right? But I don’t know that I have sat to intentionally process it in a very long time. Reese is the extrovert; the chatter box, the girl who talks a mile a minute and will tell you any and every thing. For her, it’s a little different. She has always clung to me (sometimes too much) so I can still stay that 90% of the time, she just wants Mama. She wants time with me—to walk and talk and laugh and be silly. And I can see a lot of myself in her (as I can see SO much of Asa in Pierson’s disposition.) Reese is feisty and sassy and sometimes equally as salty as sweet. She can be the BEST at eye rolling, at moaning and groaning when asked to do something she may not want to do, and I sometimes wonder how in the world will I survive teenage years with this girl?!

So right now, in this phase and season of life, I am working harder to embrace when she does cling to me. When she asks, “Can we cuddle and watch Heartland?” or when she wants “one more minute” as I tuck her in. I remember teenage me quite well, and I was NOT an easy teen…

Becoming a mom has taught me so much about sacrifice. About selfless love. About doing your best, even when life is hard. About showing up for your kids, even when you are tired. About harnessing anger (especially when those eye rolls and fussiness comes) and biting my tongue. It has taught me that MY mom, did the best SHE could. She was tired (as all moms are), but that didn’t stop her from being selfless. She was sacrificial. She was patient. And even on little to no sleep, she’d crawl in bed with me to tickle my back and I remember always knowing when she was drifting off to sleep as her hand would slow and then completely stop mid-back. It’s exactly what happens with me and my kids. MANY nights, I am so tired, and mid back tickle I doze and fall asleep. (I wonder if my kids think the same thing I did those nights, “Noooo, just a little longer!” Ha!)

Being a mom, has given me a new love for my mom. I can see her better. I understand better. I can FEEL her emotions deeper. She taught me how to be a mother, and if my kids ever get married and have their own kids, I pray I am also teaching THEM to parent well.

Mother’s Day is a few days away. I know that not every woman WANTS to be a mom, and that is okay! I know that many women who want to be a mom, cannot be. I know that this weekend may be painful to so many women, so I also want to take the space to say remember ALL women, everywhere. Be kind. Be careful what you say. Love the women in your circles well. Check on them. Pray for them. And never, ever take the role of being Mom, if you are one, for granted.

The Christmas Blues: Do you Have Them Too?

It’s okay to not be okay. It’s a familiar feeling at times, as my kids are getting older...Christmas Eve comes (out of NOWHERE), and the day is generally sweet and magical. And then it’s gone. Christmas Day comes (even quicker) and the presents are opened, trash picked up, and the emptiness under the tree just stares at me. It’s not about the gifts (or the lack thereof), it’s just the reminder that the Holiday has come and gone, once again...and when it returns in a year, my kids will be even older, and things may be less magical. 

In the silence of our house on December 25th, with the kids and even my husband sound asleep...I look at the dark tree, and the fireplace that doesn’t have a fire blazing within it. (It needs to be cleaned from the day before, and our tree lights were on a timer that I didn’t feel like turning back on.) It was dark. It was quiet. And I sat there reflecting on the day. Could it have been better? Was I wrong to get the kids iPads when I already loathe screen time anyway? Did I keep my patience the best that I could? Did I share the gospel of Jesus WELL enough with my family? 

December 26th comes...I finally sleep in. My body apparently finally relaxed and I slept soundly until 10:30 in the morning. (Thank God for a husband who wakes earlier and who doesn’t mind his wife sleeping in…) I pour a cup of coffee and immediately just feel--OFF. Not mad, not sad, not angry, not happy, not anything, just off. I look around and while we’ve done a pretty great job at keeping clutter/messes to a minimum, I am even more frustrated by the clumps of Golden Retriever hair floating in the corners and (very few) dishes in the sink. I checked the temperatures outside often, wondering whether I should run outside or not...if I should go to the barn and ride, or not. Ultimately I decided to get into warm running attire and head out. I prayed my knee could handle it, that my lungs wouldn’t burn too much from the cold, and that I could do at least six miles. With the music in my ears, I took deep breaths and I took off. The pavement underneath me felt like a punching bag for my feet. With every mile, I felt lighter, and lighter, more accomplished, more okay. 

Half way through the run I paused on a bridge that overlooked a mostly frozen creek. I thanked God for my strength, for legs that can so far do this, and for loving me, even when I feel unlovable. The day has generally and still feels OFF for me. The run was great, I feel thankful to have gotten it done...but my brain is still trying to figure out what it’s thinking. I mean really; I can’t stop thinking about my businesses, what more I can do for them, about school or work starting back in a week, about motherhood and if I’m doing alright? 

This post is a conundrum post. I can’t explain how I’m feeling, not well anyway. So I guess the moral of it is that I feel like at least one person reading this may be feeling something similar, and I think it’s okay. It’s okay to have the Christmas Blues--that’s what I’m declaring this. The twinkly lights will soon be taken down, the tree put away, and while you may be wondering why that matters? I mean, you may not be a Christmas lover like me, so it might not seem like a huge deal. But it’s bigger than Christmas I think...I think it’s the letdown of the beautiful anticipation that December has been to me. And I’ve said it before...I’m struggling in this current season of motherhood and I am trying so hard to pray and trust and to find contentment in the stages that my children are in. 

I sit here and remember their first, second, third, fourth Christmases...when your son doesn’t come into the living room and say, “That’s from Target!” about his Santa gift...when their hands and wrists still had those baby dimples in them. When you were able to rock them in rocking chairs while you stared at the twinkly lights, thinking back then, maybe you were excited for them to be a bit older and bigger and to need you a little less. 

The Christmas Blues. Does this make sense? Mamas...can you feel this tonight? I’m hitting POST, and praying as I do. Tomorrow is a new day. New strength, new thoughts, new memories, new laughter, and more love. If you needed this post, will you let me know? Email me or comment below. I’d love to give you a virtual hug and be here in this walk of adulting and parenting with you. 

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.