The in between

Lately I've felt like I'm in a stage of limbo.  Which is uncomfortable for me.    I'm sure I'll write more later but we are in the stage of moving.  Possibly.  It all depends on if we can rent our house.  We weren't really looking for a house, but a house came up down the road and it really feels like it could be our dream house.  But we have to have renters.  So our offer is accepted and we're just waiting to find someone to live here.  We keep saying we'll be fine if we don't get the house, but as the days go by I want to live there more and more.  But even more so I just want to know.  Will we be moving or not?  Do I start packing?  Am I wasting ridiculous time on pinterest and dreaming of decorating a new house?  (I'm sure the answer to that is yes either way.) 
Isaac still coughs daily, and some days quite often.  We have an appointment with a lung specialist but can't get in until the end of August.  I am having a hard time waiting and just want to know what the doctor will say.  
Addi starts preschool in a month and I feel really nervous about it.  I just wish it was here as I feel like it will be a rough transition for her and I feel anxious.  I hope I'm wrong and that's it's easier than I think, but I feel like it's going to take time and will be challenging for awhile.  
I've written about it before but Isaac's sleep sucks, yet I know he feels too little to me to do much about it.  I struggle between the he's only little for so long, and the fact that he really doesn't need to be up six times or be held the entire night.  I hate the phrase "sleep training" but got to that point eventually with Addilyn and feel like I will with him too, but have a hard time not dreading that. Yet so anxious for some sleep. 
I keep wondering when I will have time again for me.  Time to work out regularly, or do a craft. When will I be able to wake up before the kids and have a quiet time?  I know some day more of a schedule and routine will come, but it certainly isn't today.  
I've only left Isaac three times for bedtime.  And it's never gone well.  Chris is totally fine dealing with it, but it often feels like more work than it is to be out.  I know we just need to keep practicing and honestly bedtime with me here is hard lately too.  I know it is just a season but it's hard to not feel like I can't leave easily or be gone long.  So soon I know this stage will over and I think it's good to recognize that it is hard and tiring, but that it surely won't last forever.  However, the waiting is hard for me.  
I suck at living in the in between.  Taking things for what the are.  Waiting for answers, waiting for the next thing.  I think I forget that there is always going to be new tough things to replace these tough things, and everything is just a season.  
So for now, I'm working on finding beauty in the waiting.  In the refining of my character, in the trusting in God that I'm in the right place.  I'm working on being patient and just being.  Finding victories in the in between and being satisfied with today.  

A whole lot of this lately . . . . .

I know this is nothing new and you've probably heard it over and over.  But I know sometimes you have to hear things at the right moment or for the tenth time before it's taken to heart.  And for me, I often have to learn the same lesson over and over during different seasons.  
I texted Chris this morning, after I had been crying because I couldn't get Isaac down for a nap.  A nap I knew would only last thirty minutes tops, and at that point even if he fell asleep I'd have to wake him for Addi's gymnastics class.  Addi was crabby and I was tired from being up a lot and by Friday morning I feel pretty spent these days.   I told him I felt like I'll never catch up on feeling tired. That I felt so tired and there was no end in site of a "break" of not being touched or totally on.  
I often have to fight feeling anxious and remind myself that this stage is hard and exhausting, but won't last forever.  Sometimes I panic thinking of all the sleep struggles we went through with Addilyn. What if he is up this often for a year and a half or what if he won't sleep unless we let him cry and how can I handle that again?  
I think about years from now when they can put themselves to bed or stay up later reading on their own.  Or spend the weekend at their grandparents.  Then I think about when they are both in elementary school or even older and I can barely handle the thought.   This time is so bittersweet. I look forward to years ahead for some reasons, yet don't want them to get bigger because I know I'll never have this stage back and there is so much sweetness amidst the exhaustion and neediness. 
Yesterday I got pooped on.  The other day I held a sleeping baby while wiping Addilyn's butt.  I've cleaned up paint spilled on the counter and changed my shirt countless times because of spit up.  I've said "do you have to pee?" a million times just in one day.  There's no doubt motherhood is justifiably tiring and gross at this stage.  But I've been going to bed every night this week spending the minutes before I fall asleep (for fingers crossed at least two hours) thinking how lucky I am to have two beautiful babies.  
Some days feel long and the days of personal space and freedom feel far away but gosh I am so so thankful.  And while I know it's okay to feel overwhelmed and tired, I never want to forget that this stage is short and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.     

Do not worry

Matthew 6:25
There's a lot of ways that this pregnancy has been redeeming for me, after Addilyn's pregnancy.  We went through so much to get pregnant with Addilyn, as well as complications at the beginning.  While this pregnancy has been physically harder, emotionally it has been so much easier.  I worried just about the entirety of my pregnancy with Addilyn.  I kept thinking once I got to the next milestone I would feel better, but then there was always another one or thing I worried about.  This time around I've been able to not worry nearly as much and have felt more at ease.  I feel like at the beginning I felt anxious about having a miscarriage and know I felt lots of nerves before my 20 week appointment, anxious to hear that everything looked good and healthy.  But otherwise I've been able to not stress about every ache and pain, and have done a better job giving those fears over to God. 
But as the end is creeping near, I'm finding it more of a struggle.  I've read handful of stories or people losing babies near the end, or having them born with serious symptoms that did not know about.  The only ultrasound we've had was at 20 weeks and sometimes it's hard for my mind not to worry that there is a health concern we missed or something else that developed.  
I've started getting anxious about labor and delivery and recovery.  I've been worrying about how Addilyn will do the days I'm in the hospital, as the most I've been away from her has been one night. I have had many evenings or moments during the day where I think how will I do this with a baby around here.  Either with Addilyn fighting bedtime or her being really needy.  
This verse is so simple.  Do not worry.  But a struggle for me to do consistently.  So I'm back to the point of waking up surrendering my fears to God and letting him take them on.  Trusting him with both my babies and the transition that is before us.  

this year

In 2013 I choose the word surrender. I worked on surrendering my fears, worries and plans for our future.  This is something that I think I'll always need to work on but have definitely seen growth since this year. 
In 2014 I chose the word rest.  I wanted to rest in God's presence, to rest in the knowledge of God's protection over our family, and to stop being anxious.  Again, something that I will always struggle with, but growth here too. 
Last year I didn't really pick a specific word but wanted to head into the year as a mighty warrior.  To work on being brave as a mom, as an individual and ready for whatever God had in store for me.  I've seen growth in my confidence and choices as a mom, growth in letting God be in control and have tried to be an example to Addilyn of doing things that aren't always easy.  
I have been thinking a lot about a word or focus for this year.  Obviously our biggest change this year will be baby number 2.  We've also had some changes with Chris work that are still not necessarily a routine or "normal" which I know will take some adjusting.  It's interesting because we clearly know what adding a baby is like, but adding a second baby is going to be a totally different thing.  This baby may be completely different than Addilyn, I'll have different needs with two kids as oppose to one, and things are definitely going to change a lot.  Change is hard for me.  When expectations aren't met I struggle.  I love knowing what to expect and what my role will look like, and even what others around me will be as well.  
I want to let go of all those things.  To go into this year knowing that right now my job is to be a mom to Addilyn and this sweet baby boy.  To be a wife to Chris, to continue to be a friend, a Christ follower, housekeeper, blogger, runner, and the list goes on.  BUT to know that each of those things is going to look different for awhile.  While I don't struggle a ton saying no to things, I struggle with what others may think or how their priorities are different and comparing mine to them.  I want to do the best that I can in all those areas and remember that there is grace upon grace and all I can do is my best.  
I want to know when I'll get back in shape and when I'll lose this baby weight.  I'd love to know what this baby will be like and how Addilyn will transition to being a big sister.  I wish I could know when Chris and I would get date nights again or when we'd save enough money to think about moving.  But what I really want is to be okay not knowing the timeline of any of those things.  To work towards those goals, but be patient in the process.  
I don't want to wish away moments (except maybe the nights filled with zero sleep) but to be present, take things day by day and let whatever happens this year happen.  I'm far from a laid back person, and while I'm learning to accept that is part of who I am and there are good qualities that come with that, I'd love to sway a little towards the other side of that spectrum.  
I want to be more content with feeling lonely.  I struggle with that now and I know with a newborn I'm sure I'll have even more of those feelings.  I want to take more comfort in God and be content with being home and not needing to feel pursued in multiple friendships.  
I never want to lose sight of all God has given us and how good He is.  When times are hard and when times are great.  To make him my priority and to thirst for His word and His presence.  
So here's to a new year.  To letting things happen as they do, and opening my hands to His plan and doing the best I can with what's in store. 

Joy in the Messy Moments

Last Thursday was a bad day.  Addi woke up with a fever, bad cough and runny nose.  We had to cancel our morning plans with a friend and she was definitely not herself.  I did not mind the snuggles and extra tv watching and we had a decent morning considering.  But after a bad coughing fit ruined her nap, the rest of the afternoon was a mess.  She was so crabby and clearly not feeling well.  My sister's whole family made trips to the doctor that day and were all positive for strep. With plans this weekend, I decided to take Addi.  Her doctor didn't have openings so we went to a Walgreens clinic.  I naively assumed we wouldn't have to wait long, so when the lady told me it would be an hour and a half I started crying.  Both Addi and I were in sweats/pajamas, no make up, not showered and I just stood there crying.  I said we'd be back, although I felt embarrassed to return. Addi was super fussy and cried most of the car ride, there and back and there again.  
Thankfully she pulled it together for the most part when we saw the doctor, minus the throat swabbing part.  She did test positive, which I was almost relieved after two hours of waiting.  Then the medicine wasn't ready and it took forever to get home.  We got home and gave her medicine, only to have her cough so much she threw up ten minutes later.  Bedtime took awhile and then she woke up two hours later coughing and threw up again.  
Let's just say I was a crabby, tired, emotional mess.  Chris and I took turns sitting with her in her rocking chair, singing, talking, trying to get her to relax and go to sleep.  She asked me if she could say hi to her baby brother, lifted up my shirt and put her arms around my belly, resting her head on me.  She does this quite often but just laid there for awhile while I sang.  It was just so sweet.  Here I was rocking my toddler, who's hugging my baby boy.  
Motherhood is so not easy.  It's tiring, and messy.  (Did I mention that I stepped in her throw up the second time?).  But I am learning that there are these little pieces of joy in those hard moments.  The day sucked and I was so ready to be in bed and be done for the day.  But that is not motherhood. Motherhood is rocking a sick baby to sleep, cleaning up throw up and getting little sleep.  And I wanted for this for a long time and felt thankful in that moment that this was my job.  To take care of my babies.  Good days and bad days.  Any hour of the day.  
It may just be ten minutes in the string of a long 24 hours, but it was ten minutes that made me so thankful for my baby girl.  Thankful for my job as a mama and I wouldn't trade it for anything.  
I should add that during this moment, I was sure that Addilyn was asleep and that I'd cherish this sweet moment of rocking my sick girl to sleep, then laying her in her crib.  To which she popped up and loudly said laughing, "You stepped in my throw up?!"  
Thank God for those funny moments too.  

Putting on your brave face

Being a mom is hard.  Which I know is nothing knew to anyone.  But I'm realizing as Addilyn gets older, there are more and more decisions to make where I have to decide what is best for Addilyn and what is best for me.  In terms of discipline, childcare, when to push certain things, when to let go and everything in between.  And there is no black and white answers, which is hard for me.    
Last week I went to MOPS for the first time.  I had wanted to go last year but with our struggles with Addilyn in our church nursery and that it was right during her nap time, I didn't even try.  This year, I wanted to try.  And to be honest it didn't go great.  It could have been a lot of worse, but I didn't leave feeling super successful.  I had a nice time and enjoyed the conversations I had, and I see the potential in learning and new relationships, but I did not have a great experience with the childcare.  
When I went to drop Addilyn off there were probably 15 other two years old in there and at least 7 of them were crying and screaming.  I went in with Addi and I could tell she was overwhelmed.  Heck, I was overwhelmed.  There were only two adults and they didn't come across as super comforting and told me it'd be better if I just dropped her off and left right away.  But that's not better for me, and I don't think better for Addi.  So I stayed for about 15 minutes.  She would play but then run back to me and hug me and tell me not to go.  I seriously wanted to cry. It wasn't in a whiny way or defiant way, but a sad, pathetic "I need you mama."  And trust me.  I know two year olds are dramatic, but it was still sad.  I know this isn't a huge deal, but it's a new place, all new people and it's a big deal.  
I told her that she can be brave.  That mama will always come back and that it will be good for both of us.  She gave me a hug and was teary eyed and I left.  I honestly don't even know if the adults there would have known if she was crying because it was so loud in there and so many tears.  It felt chaotic and I worried about her lack of attention, and while I know she would survive, I felt sad.   I realize that this isn't close to the end of the world, and there are so many other harder things, but it was hard for me.  I often just want to protect her and have her never be sad, which I realize is ridiculous and impossible. 
When I picked her up, she wasn't crying but standing at the door.  I asked her how it went and she said "I cried a lot, a lot for you mama."  Which I don't think is true, but I still felt sad.  I told her how proud of her I was and that sometimes we have to do things that are new and brave.  We'll give it another try and I'm praying she does okay.  This is one of many smaller situations where I get to decide if it's something that's worth it for both of us, and then to just be confident in my decision and either stick with it or just let it go.  I know it will be good for me and probably good for her too, but I sure wish it was easier! 

God's got your babies

I wrote this post quite awhile ago.  Soon after we found out we were pregnant.  This time around I've been far less anxious than I was when I was pregnant with Addilyn.  Yet my worries and anxieties still creep in here and there, especially at the beginning.    
We took a pregnancy test while we were on vacation in Florida, and again the day we got home.  The line still seemed pretty faint and I was nervous I wasn't really pregnant.  With Addilyn I was on a lot of hormones before and after we found out we were pregnant to regulate things.  I knew this was a totally different situation, as we didn't do fertility treatments, so clearly my hormones could be completely fine.  But I was nervous and anxious to get them checked and see if I needed any extra medicine, so I went in right away for blood work.  
The next day I got a call with my numbers.  My progesterone and hgc levels were good and they told me I could come back in a few days if I wanted to, but that things looked good.  I said I didn't need to come back and I'd wait for my 7 week appointment.  But then I got home and a few hours later starting thinking about how my numbers were the same as when I was pregnant the time before Addilyn, only to find out two days later my numbers barely grew so we knew we'd loose the baby.  I had this overwhelming feeling of the same thing happening.  I immediately started crying.  Hard.  I'm not one to get on my knees to pray.  I don't know why, but I don't know when I've done it.  But I got on my knees and prayed for God to protect this baby.  To take away my anxieties and to thank Him for giving us this miracle.  To thank him for loving my baby even more than I do.  
I know I've said this before, but the miracle of the situation hasn't worn off.  Forever we had said that when Addilyn turned two we would either meet with our fertility doctor to talk about our options, or start the process of adoption.  Here we were two weeks before Addilyn's birthday and I find out I'm pregnant.  It's like God is saying, "Katie, I've got this.  I knew before Addilyn was even born that today you'd find out you are pregnant.  I've got this baby and I couldn't love him/her more."

Of course there are so many emotions that come with this, one being scared of all the what ifs.  I feel nervous for my 20 week ultrasound, and nervous that our baby won't be healthy. But I feel so much peace that God has this under control.  That God loves every one of my babies more than I can imagine.  The babies that I didn't get to meet before we had Addilyn.  The baby that is in my belly right now, the babies we may have in the future.  He knows the day I will hold those sweet babies too.  And He's got them all.   

Feeling stuck . . . .

I feel like I've been in a rut lately.  It's definitely been spurred on by feeling ridiculously sick this pregnancy, but it has become more than that.  Physical changes thanks to the first trimester of pregnancy have left me feeling nothing like myself.  My lack of energy to work out and feel strong and confident have been nonexistent.  My daily routine of waking up before Addilyn, drinking a cup of coffee and having a quiet time had become lost.  Addilyn's nap times are usually filled with me sleeping or laying in bed watching tv.  And part of that is okay.  I know it's a season and I know I can only do what I can do.  But it's hard not to feel lost.  To not feel like myself or that I have control of my body. 
Completely apart from being pregnant I've struggled with contentment the last few months.  Four of my close friends have bought and moved into new houses recently.  Beautiful houses, and thanks to us buying our house at the worst time ever 8 years ago, are far less expensive than ours.  I know there is so much stress in moving but I've envied them.  I've been jealous of them picking out new paint colors, furniture and getting to decorate a new house.  I've come home and looked at my "little" house with disappointment.  I'm embarrassed to even admit that as I know we are beyond lucky for what we have, and if only everyone could live in a house that has everything they need.  I have no room to complain.    My heart has felt disconnected from the Lord.  I've been praying a lot, but my time in the word and my energy working on my heart has not been there.  I've filled any quiet moment with tv or my phone. Or sleep.  I've felt too tired to do anything productive.  And while I think there's lots of grace in this stage or pregnancy, in motherhood in general, I'm ready for a new season.  
I love the change to Fall.  A fresh start.  New goals, a new routine.  I'm ready.  Today I spent all of Addilyn's nap time sitting on the couch, worship music on.  I read my bible, wrote in my journal and then read a book.  And my heart feels so much more fulfilled.  I could spend hours watching tv.  I love tv.  I want to be a Braverman and can't stop watching Parenthood.  I think there is room for that. But it's doing nothing for my heart.  And I need a better balance.  
I want to do things with my time that fill my soul.  I don't want to miss out on what God may be trying to teach me during this season.  I want to work harder to get to know him and become the woman he's creating me to be.  I want to stop caring about materialistic things.  How I look, what my house looks like, how "together" it appears or does not appear that I have things.   So here's to giving myself grace in these areas, doing the best I can, and letting the rest go.  

Missing my old purpose

The other day I was pulling into the dentist (the first problem) and there was a lady walking out of an office building across the street.  In a cute skirt and heels and looking beautiful, and accomplished.  I was pulling up wearing a t-shirt and jean shorts, after spending my morning playing with Addilyn at a friends, putting her down for a nap and bringing the five year old I babysit with me to the dentist, while my mother in law watched Addilyn.  I felt nervous, frazzled, ugly and so not accomplished.  It made me miss dressing up.  Putting on nice clothes, getting to work, feeling purposeful in a career.    A few months ago, my close friend that was on my third grade team got to downtown for a three day conference, learning about a new math method, then got to come back to school to present it.  She did so well that they want her to work with some other schools and present at another conference.  Not that I would be close to as knowledgeable in this subject, but we used to do a lot of planning, creating and teaching together.  If I was still at school I would have been the one that went to the conference with her.  It made me miss teaching.  Miss the opportunity to impress people, to feel proud of an idea, and to make a difference in a ton of kids' lives.  
The same week when I was tutoring one of my students I asked her if she was sad that school was over or happy for summer.  She said both, and that she was only said about leaving "Mrs. Rempert."  Again, I felt sad.  I used to have students that said that.  And as time goes on, the majority of the students do not know who Mrs. Vale is.  
Later that week my timehop picture was of me and six students that moved up with me when I went from teaching second to third grade.  Six of my favorite students ever.  When I think about my first few years of teaching, it was so much of who I was.  I loved teaching so much.  Of course there's parts that weren't great, but it was what I was meant to do and I loved it.  
About 85% of the time I feel really confident and content with my role as a stay at home mom.  I know that God has made me to be Addilyn's mom and that even though I have no idea what I'm doing many of the times, that I'm a good mom.  I feel so grateful that I am able to stay home with my daughter and don't take it for granted, when I know so many people would love to be able to do the same.
But I think I'm surprised that I still have feelings like this.  When school started back up last year, I went through a phase where I had some second thoughts about staying home.  I felt like I missed the beginning of the year excitement, felt like maybe I should have tried to find a part time teaching job and wished that would have worked out at my school.  Seeing back to school stuff and pictures of teachers setting up their classrooms, brings back some of those same feelings again.  
The older I get and more experiences have it's clear that I struggle with change.  With leaving something behind and accepting that things are different.  I struggle with this in terms of blogging.  I miss when blogging was filled with deeper connections, more validation, more success.  I struggle just accepting that it's just different now and that's fine.  I struggle with change in relationships, circumstances, anything.  I think that I expect to feel completed confident and satisfied in my "new" role by now, and I don't.  I think that I need to start accepting that I'm probably always going to have a part of me that misses teaching because it was such a big part of who I am.  And there's a good chance it will be again.  But I'm reminded over and over that this is where God wants me right now and I sure am thankful for that.  

Pick and Choose

You get to pick what advice you take from others.  There is so much advice.  And a lot of it with good intentions.  But you get to pick what advice you take to heart and what advice you let roll off your shoulders.   
You get to pick what battles you fight with your toddler.  Right now getting rid of Addilyn's pacifier isn't on my list.  I try to limit it to the car and naps and right after she wakes up, but if she gets hurt or is super whiny and asks for it I don't say no. 
You get to pick if you are going to dwell on the bad starts to days, the rough moments during the week or if you are going to let them go and start over.  Even if you start over five times before lunch time.  
You get to pick what the most important things are to teach your kids. I want Addilyn to know that it's not okay to hit her friends, to treat people kind and gently and am going to tell her that every time she does something different.  I want her to know that it's important to listen and obey and probably say those words 50 times a day.  I want her to know that God made her and loves her and wants us to obey Him and love him and others.  
I wanted Addilyn to be okay in the church nursery even though it took months and lots of tears. But I gave up after a few bad times at the Y daycare, because that didn't matter as much and I didn't feel up for either of us fighting that battle more than once a week.  I could fully do a better job with what foods I give her and make, and while I can't make her eat things, I could try harder to offer her healthier food.  I could try harder to get her to play independently, probably carry her around too much and cater to her more than I should. But pick and choose, right? And I realize everyone is picking and choosing too, and that it's not always going to be the same as my choices.  To someone else serving only organic food may super important and I have no room to be judgmental or question my own processed food serving ways.  
So here's to the continually reminder that I need to parent along side of my friends and those I see on social media and not against.  And to remember that we are all doing the best we can and the best thing for ourselves and our babies.  

Not impressed

These pictures make me laugh.  Last weekend we went to the zoo and I thought Addi would absolutely love it.  But she honestly kind of acted like she could have cared less.  About just about all of it.  This was her face the majority of the time on the carousal ride.  Like "no thanks mom.  Not impressed."  She was seriously more entertained with the geese, than anything else in the zoo.  I pictured having some super cute pictures of her waving on the carousal or oohing and ahhing at the animals.  Not hot, sweaty and bored.   
Sometimes I struggle with the unpredictability of kids, especially toddlers.  You can plan all you want and have no idea how it is going to go.  At first I felt annoyed and really disappointed.  But instead of feeling that this day was a very tiring, waster of time, I'm laughing and remembering that if we went next weekend if could be a completely different experience.  And this is all part of motherhood and I'm thankful for this girl even when she's crabby and thoroughly not impressed.

Toddlers are Bipolar

I think I should stop being surprised by this, but it amazes me how fast toddlers can change their emotions.  One minute asking for peanut butter and jelly and the next minute throwing it on the floor saying "No want it, mama!"  
The other week we had a really rough day.  About once a week I babysit a six month old from 6:30-9 in the morning.  Addi acts all excited about "baby Emma" coming but after about 15 minutes has had enough.  She continually tells me to put Emma down or asks me "Emma's daddy pick her up?"  This one day I couldn't get Emma to sleep and she was overtired and Addi was crabby, jealous and not content.  She basically cried or screamed on and off for over an hour.  It was miserable.  
I felt like I had a daughter who couldn't entertain herself for a minute.  Knew nothing about patience and sharing her mama.  And was just an overall crabby, needy one year old.  That I could never handle two babies and that I was basically creating a monster. We "restarted" that day at least five times and it was just a rough day.  I was thrilled when it was bedtime and happy the day was over.  
Now Friday was the complete opposite.  Addi was happy in the morning, and we had a great day.  We went to the park, went exploring on a path, had breakfast with a friend and overall had such a fun, good day.  
Something that I need to remember is to not count the day out as bad, when we've had a rough morning.  That there is opportunity after opportunity to have a restart.  And even if the day ends up being pretty rotten, tomorrow is a totally new day.  

Putting our brave faces on

Getting our brave faces on 

One of my goals this year is to be brave.  I think it's easy for me to get fired up about something and have big plans and then forget them after a few months.  I want to be more intentional about working on myself and not feeling like I'm stuck in the same place.  Sometimes I look around at my close friends and their lives seem busy and chaotic, and they're being stretched and tested.  Whether with a new baby, a challenging job, taking on foster care or a ministry at their church.  While it is not free of problems, I look at my life and it feels safe, mostly predictable (as much as possible with a toddler), and comfortable.  Sometimes I struggle with wondering if this is just a season that I should enjoy, knowing there'll be plenty of times in the future where I won't be able to say the same.  Or if maybe I'm missing an opportunity or not seeking something out that I should. 
So while I'm still thinking through the answer to that, here are some ways that I have been brave lately:
Leaving Addilyn overnight. 
Writing posts like this and praying to be open to whatever God has for our future.  Whether that be adoption, fertility treatments or being okay with being a family of three.  
Initiating in my friendships despite feeling self conscious and that some of them are one sided.    Going to the dentist.  Then setting up appointments to go back a bunch of times after to get work done.  Cavities, root canal, crown.  Awful.  And not having full on panic attacks.  Close, but I'm trying.  
Inviting a good friend to church and asking God for opportunities to share Him with her.  
Being brave looks different for each person.  Looking at this list I think some people may think some of these things aren't brave.  Leaving their kids overnight at this age or even going to the dentist.  But both of those things give me anxiety (one way more than the other with way less rewards, like spending 24 hours alone with your husband), and conquering them takes bravery for me.  
I was listening to a talk Jen Hatmaker gave on Mother's Day and near the end she said brave moms raise brave kids.  I want to set an example for Addilyn to be brave.  I think we've done that with her and the nursery.  Teaching her that even though it is hard, we stick with it because it is important.  I think I've showed her that by training and running the marathon in October. I want to continue to teach her to be brave.  To open her hands and tell God I'll do whatever you call me to.  To not be scared of new things or hard things.  To not curl up in a ball and cry when things get tough, which is what I'd rather do.  
I don't know what that means for me this month or this Summer, or even next year.  I feel a little lost thinking about what that will look like in my life right now.  But I want to go at my days being brave. Looking for more opportunities that God may have for me that I may be missing.  Not always craving comfort and safety, but being willing to do whatever he calls me to do.  And I want to teach Addilyn to do the same.  While I want to raise a daughter that is sweet and gentle, I also want her to be tough and not be scared.  
So here's to flexing our muscles, being strong and brave!

We're clearly a pair you shouldn't mess with. :) 

Being a mom

I've read a lot of motherhood posts, especially last week.  And they all have similar messages. Describing motherhood is tricky.  There are super hard days, where messes are everywhere and tears are present.  Then beautiful moments of snuggles and sweet words.  And most days everywhere in between.      Some moments I feel like I've got this.  Others I feel like I don't know what I'm doing. 
I feel like I have the happiest sweetest baby in the world one day, then another feel like I have a crabby, mean and monster toddler.  
Some days I feel like I couldn't be more grateful for where God has me and am so content in this place.  Other days I'm longing to know the future and wanting other things.  
Some days I feel confident in how I'm raising Addilyn and choices I make and others I second guess if I'm doing it right.  
When it comes down to it, motherhood is the hardest things I've ever done.  I had no idea how much I would love Addilyn.  I had no idea how hard it would be to give up control of her and know that He entrusted me to be her mom, but ultimately He is in control.  I had no idea how tired I would be or how draining some days could be.  Being a mom is scary, overwhelming, exhausting and hard.  I've learned more about my selfishness and the need for grace these last two years than ever before and I imagine that lesson will be learned over and over.     But being a mom has also been the best thing I've ever done.  I have longed to be a mom since I was little, and know that God made me to have this role.  I have yet to get tired of folding tiny little laundry and still stop and look at her little shoes laying on our floor and can't believe we have a little girl.  In Sunday at church, our pastor prayed for all the moms, and then prayed for the women that are waiting to be moms.  I got all teary remembering being in that place.  Knowing that God gave me the desire to be a mom, but not knowing when he'd answer that prayer.   I am so thankful for God's faithful, and want to continue to thank Him for giving me the blessing to be Addilyn's mom.  

Holidays are Messy

 

I feel like holidays are really tricky with kids.  You have big plans, things schedules and more pressure for a really good day.  It's too bad toddlers don't understand that holidays should be different than any other days.   While I don't think I could ever not be disappointed if a holiday doesn't turn how I thought, I think I'm starting to learn that I really have no control over it.  
At the end of Mother's Day, my sister and I went to Target alone.  (A real Mother's Day present, right?)  We were talking about the pressure of holidays.  To get a perfect picture, to share something sentinmental, to really enjoy the day.  The thing is, if you have young kids, the chances of all of those happening are pretty slim.  
We actually had a great Mother's Day.  Addilyn slept pretty well the night before, was happy with Chris getting up with her in the morning (a rare thing), did great in the church nursery and took a great nap.  We hosted Mother's Day at our house and she did great.  Now the picture part, not so much.  Of course the one picture that was great, was super blurry.  Thank you Chris.  

But we've had our share already of rough holidays.  Easter was a complete miss, as Addilyn woke up with the stomach flu.  Last Halloween she had a really nasty cold, was terribly crabby, the weather was awful, and Chris was sick, so we did one house of trick or treating and the day was not even close to what I had expected.  
Add into it that it gets messy when you want to share about your holiday on social media, especially Mother's Day.  I know how hard Mother's Day can be when you don't have kids, but so badly long to be a mother.  So do you not post anything because you don't want to make things worse for those that are hurting?  Do you post your one beautiful picture you get or a real life one that is much more accurate of how your life is?  
I think I've spent a lot of time comparing my daily life to others.  A lot of time worrying about what other people are feeling, which can be great, but also can take the joy out of your own day.  I think what I'm learning is that number one I need to have low expectations.  That it's okay to plan how I want our day to go, plan on taking cute pictures and all being happy, but know that a lot of things are out of my control.  And then number two, I'm responsible for how I feel.  If my day is a mess and others are posting these beautiful pictures, so what.  Good for them if their day is great, but more likely than not they took 20 pictures to get one good one and there were probably tears and bribery along with it.  If I am totally happy with our day but then see three people announce pregnancies with baby number two, then I need to have an attitude adjustment or maybe just not spend time on social media.  
Sometimes I think about trading in the time I spend thinking about what I'm going to share with others or how to word things correctly, for thoughts about things I'm thankful for or anything else far more productive.  So I'm remembering this for next holiday.  There's a good chance it's not going to be perfect.  And that is completely okay.  This is a season of life with little kids and it's messy and loud and unpredictable.  And if I get a great picture, then that is a super bonus.  
But if the majority of my pictures look like this, then I'll have plenty of stories to tell her when she's older.   Like how the highlight of this Mother's Day was dancing on the table and showing everyone how big she can open her mouth.  

Waiting for baby number 2

As we get closer to Addilyn turning two, I'm struggling more with the want for another baby, which brings on a whole realm of emotions.  For the most part I've been able to push them aside and feel completely content with where we are now, but as we get closer to Addilyn turning two I find myself thinking about it more often.  We've said for a long time that once she's two we'll talk seriously about a plan, whether that be fertility treatments or adoption and to be honest both scare me.  
There's been a handful of times this last month that I've thought of our lost babies through our fertility treatments.  I know there are so many women who have miscarriages and this is a common thing, but it is still hard and sad.  I know we have four babies in heaven that we never got to meet.  The idea of going through fertility treatments, knowing there are high possibilities to endure more losses is really hard.  There is so much that is not black and white when it comes to what I feel like are the best choices regarding fertility treatments and I struggle with this a lot.  I know without a doubt that God gave us Addilyn through IVF and it was His perfect plan.  But there are times I think about the fact that we had to lose four embryos in order to get Addilyn and I don't want to do that again.  We agonized over decisions, like how many eggs to fertilize because we didn't want a lot left over but didn't want to end up without any quality ones to use.  I know that ultimately God was in control of every decision we made along the way, but they were decisions that took up a lot of time, energy and prayer.  This unappealing part of the fertility treatments is almost as big as the physical and financial toll, which are both huge reasons I'm afraid to do it again.  
I think there was a part of me that thought I was going to be one of those women that go through fertility treatments and then gets pregnant easily on their own after having a baby.  Chris and I have never done anything to prevent getting pregnant since Addilyn has been born, and while I shouldn't be surprised, I'm disappointed I haven't been one of those woman.  I still have hope that it could happen, but the longer it goes the less I feel like that's a possibility.  
Today I saw two different pregnancy announcements (for baby number two) and I cried.  The day before I got my period and thought there was a chance, although so small, that I may be pregnant this month.  I felt sad and disappointed.  I think I've felt that since we already have a baby, I shouldn't be sad about not having another one.  Like it's greedy and unappreciative of what we do have.  But I think that there is a line between acknowledge your desires, letting yourself be sad, and to be content where you are.  
For a long time I felt like infertility defined who I was.  It was something that was on my mind all the time and I had to work hard to not let it take over my life.  I know that it is so different now that we have Addilyn, but it's a desire to have a baby nonetheless and I'm afraid to go through all those feelings again.  The jealousy of other pregnancies, disappointment of another month not being pregnant, and then more so the unknown and uncertainty of infertility or adoption.  
I remind myself that God taught me so much through our infertility until we got pregnant with Addilyn.  I would be a completely different person had I not gone through those struggles.  And I know whatever our journey looks like to expanding our family, God is going to do the same.  That it's okay to be sad and okay to acknowledge the desire for another baby.  But to continue to pursue contentment and be thankful for this exact place where God has us.  

Keeping it real

The other day I read a friend's status that said that her 21 month old just counted to ten.  Immediately I kind of panicked and right away asked,  "Addi can you count? One, two, three?" To which she replied "One . . . one . . ONE!!!!"  Which is a step above saying donut, which happens to be her favorite answer to all questions.  
I knew the day would come when I'd replace the struggle of not comparing Addilyn's sleeping habits to everyone else with the struggle of not comparing her other abilities.  It's starting to happen, and I want to be so conscious of it because I know comparison of any form leaves you feeling anxious, unhappy and neglecting to appreciate what you have.  
I worry that she doesn't love reading enough or know how to entertain herself for more than a minute at a time.  I read of other moms walking by their toddler's room to see them reading books in their chairs.  Wait.  What?  The times I walk away from Addilyn in her room she's trying to crawl up the railings of her crib or body surf on the rocking ottoman.  But much more likely she chasing me, whining mama because she can't stand not being right on top of me all the time.  
I imagine this is a battle that every mom feels in one way or another, probably their entire parenthood.  But I know that if I'm not mindful of it, I'll waste far too much time worrying if I'm doing things right, and forget that every kid is so different and that I have a daughter that is happy and loved.  I could practice numbers with Addilyn until she's blue in the face right now and she could respond with donut every single time.  Or answer dog poop, which was her favorite phrase on repeat yesterday.  
And when it comes down to it, I think a majority of those things are not in my control.  Addilyn has amazing balance and is really coordinated.  I didn't do a thing to teach that.  She also does not eat a lot, and I think I've done a decent job offering her different and healthy foods, yet she rarely eats them. Again, not a ton I can do about that, except keep trying.    
Sometimes I wish everyone would stop posting pictures of their healthy food and independent toddlers.  One of the reasons I thoroughly appreciate this thread on instagram because that's real life.  
So here's to keeping it real.  I worry that my toddler isn't independent and eats too many sweets.  That we probably watch more tv than we should, and the idea of doing any activity that involves paint or shaving cream makes me want to cringe.  And that I don't ever, ever miss her when she is sleeping.   

The 7th Lap

image source

I've shared multiple times that we have had our fair share of nursery struggles with Addilyn during church. Some weekends I start getting anxious Saturday night, thinking about the nursery worker prying Addilyn off of me and her screaming mama.  I have a hard time focusing during the service knowing she's crying and then picking her up with her blotchy face and big tears, and extra clingy self the rest of the day.  I struggle to not feel like the workers are wondering why after all this time she hasn't pulled herself together and learned to be okay in there.    We've been pretty consistent for the last five months with going, and leaving her in there even though she is crying.  A few weeks ago I came back to the service after the nursery worker had to pry her off of me and I left her screaming.  I was working hard to not cry myself, and my friend sitting in front of me texted me that I'm a great mom and am doing a good job.  When I texted back that it feels so hard and almost hopeless she responded with  this could be your 7th lap. 
She was reminding me of a talk we heard at the if gathering.  The speaker spoke about Joshua, who was called to take over the city of Jericho, but not in the way you'd expect.  God called him to take his men and march around the city walls for seven days.  And on the seventh day to shout and blow their trumpets and that then the walls would crash down.  They were obedient to what God was calling them to do, despite no results for the first six days.  It wasn't until the seventh day that the walls fell.   (Joshua 6) 
The men had no idea if it would happen.  If they would've quit on the sixth day, no progress would have been made.  They just had to stick it out one more day.  
One more day.  And the walls just fell down.  
What if I give up and that week is the week we'd turn a corner and Addilyn would tough it out without crying the entire service?  
I'm not a person that likes to give up.  Probably to a fault.  But there are certainly things in life that sometimes make me want to quit.  I wanted to quit multiple times while training for the marathon.  But I persevered and ran that seventh lap and finished the race.  No doubt I had points in our infertility battle where I did not want to do one more IVF treatment, but that seventh lap gave us Addilyn.  There's times I've wanted to give up on the same prayer request I've prayed for months after months, but I know that my seventh lap will come in that area too.  I'm going to continue to be consistent in those things that I know will be worth it.  Because maybe the next time it will be my seventh lap.