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

A Thank You to 2020

Can we just take a moment, and bear with me, to thank 2020 for all the lessons it taught us??

For better or worse, it happened, Y’all. In January of 2020 there is no way we were considering a global pandemic that would literally shut the country DOWN just months later! Nearly 2 million deaths, an economic monstrosity, and on top of covid-19, the innumerable racial injustices and tension that broke hearts and families. 2020 was hard. It was full of adversity and it disrupted every single person’s life.

But within a year full of ALL of that, I am also eternally grateful for the things that I learned. As a wife, a mom, a teacher, a woman. Grace, authenticity, growth, humility, grit, determination, relationships, the importance of family, faith, hope, and how to be present—how about all of this just to name a few lessons?

I thank 2020 for teaching me so much. I thank it for allowing (forcing really) more time with my family and especially children, then ever before. My ‘time off’ four years ago (January-May 2016) wasn’t even filled with this much ‘togetherness.’ More time outdoors; walks and hikes, and the year that got me back into distance running.

In 2019 I didn’t think too much about a lot of things or maybe I should say, I didn’t appreciate them. Going into a bakery for a fresh donut, or sipping coffee in a coffee shop? What about hosting friends and family; gathering people into our home and fellowshipping—in person? Life without masks…seeing someone’s smile, or frown, or emotions, period. Not being fearful of someone coughing nearby or expecting the worst when they do. When viruses were simply viruses, not death sentences.

I began to find happiness in the simple things, more than ever before. As a 32-year old woman, I realized the very best things and the very best people are literally within these walls. (Okay, that’s not entirely true. They’re also at a barn thirty minutes away but you know what I mean.) We’ve always heard the phrase, “life is too short,” but now we can see so much (too much) proof of that. We live in a world of ‘go go go,’ and Asa and I have talked often about how weirdly thankful we are that we have HAD to slow WAY down. We haven’t been able to make plans every weekend. We couldn’t host, we couldn’t do date nights, and the kids haven’t had a sport to go to or be a part of in, um, forever. Will we be thankful when we get to welcome those beautiful things into our lives again? Absolutely! But let’s never forget how much more present we have been and how much more mindful too.

‘When life returns to normal,’ is a phrase I’ve heard a lot too. When will it ever be normal again? What is normal? Here’s my honest opinion. I don’t want life to return back to ‘normal.’ That’s like asking to go back in time and undoing all the beautiful things that we just learned and reaped. TRUTHS: I would love a world without masks. I would love a world where we don’t live in fear. I would love to have friends and family over for dinner and drinks without thinking twice about it. But the old normal we all had, was abnormal in so many ways. Perhaps in 2021 we learn to grieve the once normalcies we had and fight hard as a family and as humanity, to create a NEW normal.

As a believer of Christ, I believe every single day we are getting closer to meeting our Maker. Whether that’s when He comes back and returns to US, or when it’s our time to go; with that said, I also believe the Bible is the Word of God and that life will only continue to point to HIM. 2021 won’t bring magical ease. It won’t be a year of less pain or suffering. But do you know what I believe and hope for? That it will be a year we get to love EVEN more than we did in 2020. That we can open our arms and physically help and love those in need; and that we can lean on each other in big, AWESOME ways. And that we continue to spread the love of Jesus wherever our days may take us.

All of you have been seeking a New Year, and well, now it’s here. IT’S HERE! Please don’t take that lightly. And thank you, 2020, for the year of self-reflection, of gratitude, slow growth, and for the recharge to begin again.

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. 

A Birthday Tribute to My Brother Nathan, and Asking for YOUR Help

I used to wonder if one day my brother would wake up and miraculously start talking. If he wouldn’t have any challenges walking or moving. If he would wake up one day and be a brand new person. As I take a moment to reflect on those wonders, it brings numerous different feelings up on the horizon of my sometimes fragile emotions.

Early on in dating, Asa once asked me what I thought about Heaven and what I looked forward to about it. I don’t remember word for word what I replied with, but I know I said something along the lines that I couldn’t wait to watch my brother run wild and free on the streets of gold. I can’t fathom, really. I can’t fathom my brother not being in pain, not having challenges, not having struggle after struggle health wise. But do you know what else I can’t fathom…? The amount of strength, grit, determination, will and JOY that he continues to have on a DAILY basis.

“How are you, Nate?” you can ask.

“Goo,” he will without a doubt respond, which is GOOD.

Since this is a place of transparency and because I haven’t shared much as a young woman of a special needs sibling, I also find it necessary to be real with you. When I was in the fourth grade, I remember going to bed angry. About what, I can’t remember—but I definitely was having lots of mixed emotions. I remember very, very vividly, imagining a world where Nathan didn’t exist. “I wonder what it would be like if he wasn’t here anymore,” I thought. I went to bed that way, and some time early in the morning, I heard my mom’s blood curdling scream. I heard her yelling, “SEAN!!!!!!" SEAN!!!!!!” at the top of her lungs. It was still dark out, I was SO confused, and I remember racing to the sound of her voice. I can remember seeing her on the phone, crying, speaking loudly and urgently, and Nathan on his bed, unresponsive. I didn’t know it at the time, but he had just had a Grand Mal Seizure.

I sprinted out of the room and basically ran psychotically around, and ended up in my mom’s room alone. I was sobbing. My brother Sean must have came in as I do remember him telling me to get it together. That may sound harsh, but I know that he was kind of being tugged too; as the middle child, he had different responsibilities. He needed to be strong for my parents and he needed to be strong for me, his baby sister. “I KILLED HIM!” I yelled at Sean. “I killed Nathan.”

That one memory seems to be eternally engrained in my mind and on my heart… I felt so strongly that it was my fault for picturing a life without Nathan! As my relationship with God grew and as I matured in my faith and as a person, I know that’s not how life works. It was a very horrendous, ironic incident that I had absolutely zero control over. But it still hurts to type out and also is humiliating admitting any of it.

You see, I CANNOT picture a life without my oldest brother, nor do I ever want to.

Nathan is who we have called our Energizer Bunny, forever. He has survived countless medical emergencies. He has beaten the odds time after time after time. “He won’t live past 18,” my parents have heard from doctors. “He has 1% chance of surviving this,” they’ve said. And here we are. Today he turns 38 years old. THIRTY-EIGHT. I and we don’t take his birthdays for granted. While Nathan is strong, he is also incredibly fragile. His bones don’t work they way they once did (and even then, they didn’t work great!!) He is battling several different health issues right now with insulin and glucose; he is scheduled to have oral surgery at the end of this month. There is so much more but I’d do a horrible job explaining it all so I don’t think I’ll try.

I write this to share a piece of my heart as his little kid sister…the baby of the family. Who couldn’t quite comprehend everything in my growing up years, and who may have struggled and battled trying to…but who as an adult and now mom myself…can’t really find the right words to use to describe just how MUCH I love him. Nathan is largely the reason for my faith in God. I believe he is the reason our family has stayed together. He is the reason Sean and I can dream BIG, GIANT dreams and why we keep fighting for them. He is why we all love each other SO much. He’s the reason for a lot of things and I just feel really, really blessed to be his sister.

One thing our family needs (and has needed for a long time now!) is an in home elevator for Nathan. Sean and I created a GoFundMe account for him over Thanksgiving and are pushing hard to reach this goal. Nathan’s mobility and health decreases every SINGLE year. My parents are in their sixties and take full care of him, but they have health challenges of their own. In order to safely use both floors in their home with Nathan, he sincerely needs this elevator. We are a little more than half way there, so I’m asking YOU, whoever you are and wherever you are reading this from: would you consider donating even $5? And would you please share his GoFundMe page on your social channels? You never know who will see it and be touched to give! Today is Nathan’s birthday—what an incredible gift to tell him that YOU helped!

I appreciate every single one of you who is reading this. Thank you for helping this blog be a safe space for me to write to you, and a place where I can share my heart. I feel very undeserving of my brother’s love, but gosh I am so thankful for it.

Happy birthday, Nathan Wayne! I and we love you SO incredibly much. We pray you have lots of energy today and that above all, you know how LOVED and inspirational you are!