Dear Daughter: You Are More than Locker Room Talk

Reese, 

You are beautiful, Darling. But that isn't all. Your gorgeous curly, naturally highlighted hair, it falls softly around your sweet face. You have the prettiest hazel eyes that are so big and round, expression and emotion just oozes out of them whenever you look at anyone. But these things don't define you. It isn't simply your natural beauty that makes you lovable or that draws people to your personality. And I pray that you will grow up in a world that believes this to be true of all women. Not just of you. 

I hope to God that you won't be raised in a world where your leadership thinks that you will only move up the ladder of success because of the way you look. Darling, you are an Adventurer. You hike trails and run down their hills and often you fall down. You may cry momentarily but you always get right back up and keep on running. What you want, you go for and what you go for, you get. 
 

You are daring and so incredibly smart. You know every single word of Fight Song and I thank God often that you have an amazingly supportive uncle who thought of you and I one day when he had heard it. "Listen to Fight Song," he said. "I really believe it's yours and Reese's song." That's the kind of leader that I hope will believe in not just us, but all women. "You might only have one match but you can make an explosion. This IS your fight song. You ARE alright. Your power is on, you are strong, your Fight Song is playing. And even if no one else believes, you have a fight to be heard." Those song lyrics were written for you, Baby Girl. And I am praying diligently that you won't grow up in a world, in a country, a FREE country, that screams at you otherwise.

 Oh young daughter of mine, someday, YOU might decide to get married and have your own babies, but I want you to know that you weren't created to ever be LESS than your husband. You'll change lots of diapers, but that won't be your job. And I hope that America won't be preaching from our pulpit that those are the types of things that women are supposed to do. And on that note, I hope that we aren't being led by someone who is repulsed by all things breastfeeding; who has actually called females "disgusting" for needing to pump while at work to provide for their babies. Reese, you are strong and capable--you can have a baby or not have a baby, but don't ever let the world, our world, take your voice away from you. 

No matter how loud the moron, no matter how big hatred and bigotry grows, I hope YOU know how truly breathtaking you are. I hope that YOU can be sure of yourself, and that you will believe how great YOU are. No matter WHAT the world throws at you throughout these next many years, may the Universe always marvel at your magnificence. 

You are far more than locker room talk.

Loving Your Imperfect Life

One of my very favorite past times is walking around quaint neighborhoods with my husband and daydream about the pretty houses that we pass. This was something we did often while we dated, and one time I even went as far as ringing a dear old lady's doorbell at 9 o'clock at night to tell her that I just loved her house. It was a dare that my husband didn't think I would do [can you tell how wild and rebellious we were?] and while I may have terrified the sweet woman, it's a funny memory that we still joke about today.

There's this one street in particular that I drive down on my way to and from work. The houses are all very large with massive, beautiful windows. Many have wide front porches and early in the mornings, the soft glow of lamplight shines through. I envision moms in their soft plush bathrobes cooking breakfast, dads drinking their coffee and their kids plopping down joyfully at the large kitchen table next to them. Maybe it's warm French-toast, topped with decadent cool-whip and covered with fresh, juicy strawberries. I bet the kids don't bicker, and they all quietly chatter about their day ahead. Lunches packed, kisses exchanged, everyone probably leaves feeling so carefree and positive.

Ever since I was a kid, I have enjoyed walking past homes and studying everything about them. The types of windows, the large wooden doors, yard or no yard, one story or two--what is everyone doing behind these beautiful walls and is their lives as perfect as their residence? Fun Fact: I grew up in the country and I have this very random memory of being obsessed with binoculars. I had a tiny notebook I would take outside along with them and I'd plop down on our trampoline. Well, considering the closest neighbor to the back of us was my Grandma, who was still an acre away, it's obvious that I didn't ever SEE much. I don't think it lasted very long (duh, how BORING?!) but I'd jot down, "Nothing going on at Grandma's today," or, "Aunt Dawn and Uncle Time aren't home from work yet, not much happening" (they also lived across the field.) I suppose this means I'm a born people watcher and because I never had too many people to WATCH, city life has kind of amazed me!

The truth is, just like you can't see behind my four walls, I can't see into yours. The small frames on Instagram don't even give a sliver of reality for what the first five minutes of our mornings look like, let alone sound like. The beautiful photo of my kids hugging lasted for three seconds and shortly after they were snapping at each other for something completely irrational. My office space in our dining room is just about the only consistently tidy nook that we have, and that's because it's used once or twice a day. The truth is, I despise mornings and because of that, waking up with a joyful and positive heart is always a battle for me. When the kids wake us before they're supposed to, internally I'm usually spewing and huffing and puffing. I'm easily overwhelmed, in both my classroom and home, and it's very hard for me to just 'go with the flow.' Yesterday my daughter, while she was supposed to be dumping the mini potty bowl in to the big toilet, (something I thought she could handle), instead smeared said potty bowl remnants all over the toilet and floor. I do NOT even know how this happened, nor do I really want to, but that was a good fifteen minutes of my reality. (#momlife?)

Does cleaning up poop sound like perfection?

Obviously not, but I want to take a second and focus on that word, perfect:

having no mistakes or flaws;
completely correct or accurate;
having all the qualities you want in that person, situation, etc.

Our inner critic is one who tells us that we don't have it good enough. We aren't pretty enough, smart enough, wealthy enough, or just enough--period. Your kids are better than mine because they're more spaced out; surely they don't fight, and oh yes, they're the best of friends. Your house is better than mine. It's bigger, the yard is better, you keep it cleaner, it smells better, it IS better. But what if we stopped for a second when we begin to hear these nagging lies? What if we thought about what it is our hearts are coveting and then look our life straight in the face with confidence about where we are and what we DO have? Instead of thinking, "My daughter should have been able to dump her poop into the big potty without any incidence," I could have just acknowledged it for what it was: "Maybe I should have moved MY butt and taken the bowl from her, maybe I was just being lazy."

That's kind of a trivial example. But I think we all have these expectations for ourselves, our spouses, our kids, our friends and co-workers--and what really, is the point? My 4-year old isn't the same as yours. You and I could have the same exact degree but we probably teach completely differently. My convictions are different from yours. And honestly, our visions, dreams, hopes and goals are vastly diverse, no matter how similar we may feel to one another!

I didn't enjoy cleaning the bathroom, but I'm thankful for a daughter who tried to be independent. I can't stand it when they fight, but I'm grateful my kids have each other. Sometimes my husband and I argue, but I love the heck out of him and I'm glad God chose ME to be his wife. I'm homesick often, but how thankful I am for a reliable vehicle and that six hours just really isn't THAT far when I want to go visit. My job is incredibly hard and as a teacher I don't ever get to "leave work at work," but I'm thankful to meet so many diverse children and no matter what, be changed by them. We feel we've outgrown our house, but it's where we brought our babies home and where ALL of our memories exist--I'll forever cherish the years spent there.

I could go on. But I know that you too are thinking of ways you ARE grateful for the imperfections in your life. And truth be told, I don't actually think everyone else's lives are more perfect than mine; I don't despise our house or neighborhood or my close in age children. But I am guilty of comparison and I encourage you today to stand against it WITH me. Together as a people we are so blessed, poopy toilets and messes and all.

"Understanding the difference between healthy striving and perfectionism is critical to laying down the shield and picking up your life. Research shows that perfectionism hampers success. In fact, it's often the path to depression, anxiety, addiction, and life paralysis.” -Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

When Moms Cry

I always say that after a woman is done having babies, she shouldn't have to go through all of the crazy hormonal junk that we do. Like the random highs and lows, the emotional turmoil, the headaches, the cramps, the mood swings. [I'm also betting that men wish the same for the women in their lives, right? Because frankly, it's no fun for anyone.]

But here we are, I imagine I'll be having mood swings for the next sixty some years and today I just kind of fell apart. Not kind of though. I really did fall apart. 

My husband let me sleep in this morning, meaning he was awake two whole hours with them before I rolled out of bed. So whenever this happens [and it happens once every weekend], I have this irrational feeling that I should be happy and thankful and that nothing should get me down because voila and kazam, Mama had a little more sleep. In reality, by minute FIVE, I'm ready to run back up the stairs and hide under the covers because the noisiness and bickering just bring me DOWN. 

This morning wasn't really all that bad. The kids begged to play in the rain and we actually let them. But then that meant they needed a bath and it never fails that every time they take one, I hear, "Move!" "Go to YOUR side!" "STOP!" "NOOOOOO!" coming from each of their mouths almost the entire time. And every time, I threaten that they just won't take baths together anymore but then that never happens because who has time to bathe two kids separately? [What am I going to do when they're too old to do this?? Will they shower? #seriouslypanicking]

So I lost my temper. I don't have an in-between voice, I am either soft spoken, or I yell. [I desperately need to work on this, I know.] My son started to cry, and then my daughter, and both were shrieking at the top of their lungs that they wanted to get out. Enter me feeling like a giant failure #5 by that point and I had been awake a whopping what, hour?! 

Then my husband leaves to watch a football game and I think, "I've got this. It's almost lunch time, I think we'll bake some cookies. This will be fun." And in reality, baking with a three and four-year old is really, really, really stressful, especially when you are on the verge of a really bad sinus headache, you've only had half a cup of lukewarm coffee, and you're just wishing that you were a born Superwoman. But you're not. 

So I keep telling my daughter to please go finish her lunch and THEN she can help Mommy with the baking. And she folds her arms, furrows her brow and in a giant huff says, "Mom! I'm SO mad about [at] you right now!" First, when did she learn that? YouTube? I mean seriously, she's three going on ten apparently. I explain the necessity behind her eating lunch and ultimately decide fine, she can eat it ON the kitchen counter WHILE we mix these cookies and during all of that, I hear myself: 

"Stop trying to smash the butter. It still needs to be opened and softened, just leave it ALONE." 
"Do NOT lick the whisk!" 
"No, you cannot be in charge of pouring the nutmeg in, I have to measure it first." 
"Don't kick your brother." 
"Not high speed, LOW speed. Just stop pressing buttons please." 

Nap time rolls around. It's not usually that challenging to put both of them down, but today is clearly the exception. I was in and out of their rooms five times each, reminding them to lie down, close their eyes, that they needed to sleep. I felt like all I was doing was threatening them, "No cookie if you don't sleep," or, "You HAVE to stay in your room until your clock turns green." I made my way downstairs, finally, and still had about two more dozen cookies yet to bake. I was regretting my decision to make them altogether, ate a ton of dough, ingested about five cookies instead of fixing myself lunch, and then sat down to look at bills and pay student loans. Before nap time, I thought I would have two full hours to edit pictures from my most recent wedding, drink some tea, and just relax. I even told my husband, "I'm doing laundry but I'll fold it tonight after the kids are in bed because I need to do some work on the computer." Little did I know that looking at money would completely drain me AND that because I forgot like, ALL of my passwords, the whole process would take me all of said "two hours to relax." 

At this point my head was really starting to throb. I found the Excedrin and went to our bed to snuggle with our orange kitten--because when the pets are all cuddled up in bed I always think, "If I could just lay here and close my eyes..." And then I heard my daughter's bedroom barge open. Well she's awake. I thought maybe she could use my phone for a few minutes and I could just rest a little bit more, but then his door opened. We were all together in my giant king sized bed and somehow they managed to not have enough distance from each other. 

We went downstairs and I tried to convince them to eat a snack and watch a show while I find something for lunch. It didn't work, and I hear, "Stop!" "Leave me alone!" "You're being RUDE!" "I'm MAD at you!" I put my head in my hands and as hard as I tried, I couldn't stop the tears from coming. I called the kids to please come to the couch and to sit down so we could talk. My daughter's response, before she noticed that I was upset, was, "I DON'T want to!" [Yes, hello threenager.] 

I tried to choke back the tears but couldn't so I proceeded to tell them why Mama was so upset. I explained that I so badly want them to be friends and to just get along. That it wears Mommy [and Daddy] out when all they do is bicker and fight and scream at each other. That it isn't loving, and that Mommy is just sad today. I told them that I'm missing Mimi and Pa Pa [MY mom and dad] and that I wished we could just drive to their house and hang out for a few hours. That I was tired and hungry and wanted a hot shower but couldn't because I can't trust them.

My son's eyes welled with tears, my daughter said, "Why are you sad, Mommy? Why are you crying?" 

ecause sometimes Mommies are sad, Guys. Just like sometimes you cry and feel emotional, that happens to Mommies too. 

My son took my hand and asked if we could go cuddle in his bunkbed; of course I agreed, and it was the first time all day that there was zero fighting. The three of us smashed in a twin bed and I closed my eyes for ten minutes. My husband got home and came upstairs and the first thing they said was, "Mommy's crying!" I told him that it had just been a rough day, but that now I also felt like a failure for crying in front of my children. 

"They need to know that you're human," he replied. "And if you'll notice now, they are playing nicely together?" 

In this season, I don't get to spend a whole lot of time with women who have young kids. In our last church small group, my husband and I were the only parents and today I realized, I don't really know if my mom friends ever cry in front of their children? I mean, it's not something I want to regularly practice. But today it made me feel like I was doing something wrong. Like I wasn't this Superwoman mom who could just be happy and grateful and fun 24/7--like my little kids shouldn't be exposed to such emotions. 

But I don't think that's the case? Social media can trap us into only seeing square shaped moments of 'perfection,' right? The white walls, the beautiful kitchens, the babies splitting a gut as they're tickled on the bed. The siblings holding hands, husband and wives kissing and embracing, the candles lit and pies baked. I do it too--because I love showing you all the GOOD in my usually messy days. But the messy days are real. And today I'm peeling back the layers and confessing to you that tears were shed by many in my household today, and that I fell apart.

And I also want to tell you that I don't plan on throwing in the towel. I didn't retreat to my bedroom and wallow in utter sadness. I cried, and I missed a lot of people today. I felt like a terrible mom, a lousy wife, and like I could have done a helluva lot better. But I know that tomorrow is a new day. And that my children and husband love me and I love them. 

Tomorrow, I will be human and maybe, being human is perfectly good enough.

Reese Elisabeth Turns Three

How did this happen? How did three years fly by SO quickly? September 14, 2013 our daughter decided she was ready to be born and in five speedy hours, she graced us with her beautiful self. We were surrounded by so many friends and family, and most importantly for me, my sweet Mama [and Dad and brother Nathan] were here for the whole thing! They missed my son's birth just by minutes, so with Reese, they decided to be in Kentucky an entire week before she came! We missed them at her third birthday party, but my goodness how loved this little girl is! 

For WEEKS she talked about having a "Princess" themed party but kept saying that she really wanted a "Frozen" cake. So I found a picture of the cake and she was so excited. Nords Bakery has been our go-to for our kids' birthday cakes, and they went out of this world with this one! It looked even better than I dreamed, and Reese LOVED it! I thought if we did simple pastel cupcakes, they would look elegant enough and they definitely DID, thanks Kroger!

Shari's Berries sent THE most delicious treats I think I've ever tasted, their cake pops being my absolute FAVORITE. Within seconds of Reese blowing out her candles and us cutting the cake, the hand-dipped strawberries and cake pops were GONE. [I actually told one of my nephews that I really needed the *last* cake pop because I wanted to save it and eat it later that night, ha!] They even sent Reese her very own mini cake, decorated so tastefully with sprinkles. [We enjoyed the treats so much and got SO full at the party, that we saved the mini cake for her actual birthday--photos to come since her birthday is two days away] ;) 

I remember the second my sweet girl was set in my arms, staring down at her as she so easily nursed, and I thought, "She's done it... She's completed our little family, and I am so in love." For the first few months she was quite possibly the easiest baby in the world, which is saying something because her brother was textbook Babywise. She had some funky spurts, maybe a little colic or just tummy sensitivity, and I'll never forget our first Christmas with her... it was the first Christmas I didn't make it back home to Michigan because she was sleeping so terribly and I was way overly stressed out. But really, she fit so well in our family--she was the cuddly baby I had prayed so hard for, she slept perfectly in my tired arms, and I held so tightly to every single month of her babyhood. 

Now here we are... three years later, and I'm holding perhaps even tighter to the toddler years. The LAST year we will have a toddler! As exhausting as some of those two-isms and threenager bouts are, how I love these stages!! Reese wore her Frozen Ana dress for her party this year and later that night I told my mom, "She was just SO happy the entire time." Everything about it really was just magical." 

ProFlowers sent us some gorgeous bouquets for this special event and everyone complimented how gorgeous they were. They also lasted for an entire week after the party and there's probably nothing I love more in my house than fresh, beautiful flowers. 

Some of my best friends and ALL of our local Kentucky family made it for the party, and I was just reminded of how incredibly blessed we are. Even my brother and sweet sis-in-law came from Nashville, which meant SO much to Reese (and ME!) The cousins all cheered her on as she opened gifts, and at the end, she opened her very special doll house that my parents sent her. 

Reese Elisabeth. Our little firecracker, our adventurous spirit. She's beautiful and brave, curious and intelligent. And I thank every single one of you who help us love her! 

Favorite Phrases:
"Mommy don't put your hair up!!!!!!" [okay this one is actually most despised phrase...but hush]
"I love you to the moon and back." 
"Are you sweaty, Daddy?!" 
"I like your shirt. I like your hair. You look SO pretty!" 
"I poooooooped!" 

Favorite Books:
Pinkalicious
Pat the Bunny
The Bible Storybook
Frozen Songbook

Favorite Songs:
Fight Song
Stand by You
Let it Go
Oh Holy Night
Silent Night
Sunshine
Moon Song [I don't want to live on the moon]