Discipline–Our Evolving Approach


So I was asked to share…

I was recently asked (thanks Liz!) to share my views on discipline–and so I thought I’d give it a whirl.  I realize I may come under fire for this, but I don’t mind.  We are all entitled to our own opinions, respectfully, and this is mine.  This is coming from a mom who believes that for every child, there is a malleable, shapeable approach needed.  For every child, different angles and viewpoints & perspectives to be taken into account.  For each family, different things need to be tried out and experimented with–because lets be honest, we all don’t respond to the same things.  Someone may be moved to tears by a radio story, while others need to be part of a natural disaster before it hits home to them how serious the devastation is.  We all respond differently.

That said, with respect to parents who have let their kid cry it out, parents who have tried spanking, parents who have done sleep training, parents who have bribed endlessly –I understand that desperate times make everyone crazy & make everyone want to try anything just to fix the issue at hand.  I’m not here to shame anyone–because honestly, a lot of parents just “do what they know,” and so if they were spanked, they spank.  If they were manipulated, they manipulate, etc.  I’m not okay with spanking (it’s our very last resort), manipulation, and shaming as our family’s way to cope with behaviors that aren’t acceptable.  Shaming children is probably my most hated thing, ever.  I was once at a birthday party where a child was made to say thank you to me–and it embarrassed me, and the child, and I felt very uncomfortable.  I don’t believe in forcing (like, pushing an issue over and over) a child when they clearly aren’t ready–they need to come to it on their own terms.  Saying thank you is hardly a life or death issue (like forcing your child to hold your hand in busy traffic or picking them up against their will–THAT I understand, it’s a life threatening situation!) and beyond a doubt, in my mind, a better example to your child is simply to say thank you to the host yourself, and ask your child if they’d like to say thank you–and not keep going at it and embarrassing many people.  Manipulation is not okay in my books. Being sensitive to the feelings of others totally is okay though!

Our Approach:

So–I was specifically asked what we do with August.  I will try to go through what we’ve done–and how we’ve done it, so that it makes sense.  But our approach is an ever evolving, changing, and moldable thing that is influenced by friends, family, church, experience, research, what have you.  I am constantly amazed when friends show me (through my own observation of their actions) what they do with their own kiddos.  It is wonderful to learn new approaches.  And that’s mainly why I share this with you–so that if you are looking for something new, if you need another approach, here it is for you:

Respect:

Showing respect is the basis of our parenting style.  To some people, this may look like “taking it easy,” or “being controlled by” our child.  I can see how someone might think that.  We give choices (two reasonable choices at a time, for little ones, is age appropriate) so that our little guy is able to decide some things for himself.  If he says “NO!” we respect his no, in reasonable and safe circumstances.  If he doesn’t want clothes on–a lot of the time, that’s okay.  I will tell him, “Okay, August, but if we go to the library I’m going to need to put clothes on you before we leave the house.”  I let him have his no and yes heard, so that he doesn’t think he’s got no voice!  “Children should be seen, and not heard,” could not be further from our beliefs.  If we want our children to grow up to be sentient, thoughtful, contributing members of society–how can we take their voice away as little ones, and expect them to somehow magically develop it along the way?  On the flip side, we try not to say “NO” to August when we don’t have to.  A lot of the time, “bad” behavior (often a child’s way of figuring out right and wrong, of realizing what boundaries are!) is a way for children to see what mom & dad’s response will be–they are looking for consistency.  Many behaviors will simply stop on their own without reinforcement of any kind, from my experience with my son.  Sometimes kiddos will keep doing things because they get a response.  When August was very little we tried to not overuse NO, and now that he is older we say it a bit more as safety and age-appropriateness are there.  He is now two, he understands when mommy says, “No, August, please don’t touch.”   Firmness applies with my no–but I respect him.  He is allowed to make a choice.  He also pushes the limits, which is when boundaries & consequences come in.

Boundaries & Consequences:

I feel this is an important time for me to highlight our definition of “discipline.”  For many, I think this word seems archaic, overly strict, authoritarian, etc.  It is harsh on the ears, for some.  As a reference, you would be correct, as the Merriam-Webster definition is: “train (someone) to obey rules or a code of behavior, using punishment to correct disobedience.” Let me give you a working definition of the “discipline” idea we are adhering to.  In our minds, disciplining our child means that we are “Helping him to understand real-world expectations that he will have to meet, in terms that are age-appropriate and understandable at his current stage.”  This means that yes, when our son bites mommy (as he did this morning), that is unacceptable and he will have to take a “time in,” (he sits with me and we talk about what happened, he doesn’t get up until I say he can) because it is unacceptable to hurt others.  Boundaries are ways of knowing what’s acceptable to do to others, and to allow to be done to yourself–they are very important; as are consequences.  I consider us to be a gentle family, we try to use intelligent means to communicate with our child, and to lovingly reinforce when behavior is not appropriate–but I have heard of parents who are basically unable to say no to their child, unable to enforce any kind of discipline, and do not punish or correct their children.  I have to say that while I realize they are probably doing this as a reaction to their own upbringing (whether good or bad), I think this is a disservice to their child.  The world WILL have its own standard for our children to follow, will have its own general rights and wrongs that we cannot change, whether we choose to acknowledge that or not, and saying yes to our child all the time, not having any rules, etc. is not going to help them.  It is simply going to defer reality to another time, and a harsh awakening will likely ensue.

We reinforce consequences often these days–for example, August might grab a pen or a sharpie  & start drawing on something.  I will tell him once or twice, “August, please give mommy that pen, I will give you your crayons.”  If he is still not listening after a second or third request, I will tell him, “Mommy is now taking the pen, I asked you twice to give it to me.  Would you like to color with your own crayons?”  This way I am positively re-directing him, and not just focusing on the negative.  He knows that I asked him not to use my pen, and I took it from him.  BUT–He has his own crayons that are perfectly acceptable to use & he has that option.  This leads us to the topic of positive redirection, ever so conveniently.  🙂

Positive Redirection:

Positive redirection is defined as such: “to direct (someone or something) to a different place or by a different route, in a positive manner.”  So–let me get something straight here: I believe this works more when children are younger.  If August was getting into something and I really didn’t want him playing with it, I would try to take him somewhere else & tell him, “Here, these are your things to play with.”  Now, it involves more communication–not just directly removing him from the situation and placing him in a positive one.  We discuss why he can’t have mommy’s purse or whatever it is, we talk about why he can’t use his stool to reach for the knife on the counter (that happened yesterday) and what he can have if he wants to use something from the counter (his sippy cup, and the knife was placed far, far away!).  We try to always be talking to August about things so that he actively feels he is involved in our lives.  He is not just a little piece that can be moved about wherever we want it to be.

Some days just SUCK!

Some days, I will yell at August–he will get into a horrible mess & I will be upset.  I will lose it!  I will completely turn my back on my gentle techniques and tell him how horrible I feel he was being.  It happens.  I will lose my temper, and I know I can’t prevent it always.  When it happens, if I can muster the courage & patience, I tell him that Mommy needs a break to just get her head together.  When I have calmed down a bit I always come back to him, tell him I’m sorry, and tell him that I love him.  I tell him what I did wrong–because I want him to know that mommy is capable of bad behavior, and that she needs to own up to it as well.  Parents should apologize to their kids, too, I think.  While we may try, and fail, with our attempts at intelligent discipline, it is always worth it to us.  I see how my son’s behavior is very different than most of his peers–I don’t accredit it all to our choice to parent in this way, but I do take some of the credit!  I am very happy with the results we have seen thus far: August is very sensitive to the needs & feelings of others.  He seems mature beyond his two years, and I believe part of this is God-given, part of it is learned.

Long Term Goals:

We want a child who can think for himself, who challenges the status quo–who doesn’t just take an answer at face value when its given to him.  This requires bringing him up in an environment where he feels respected & safe.  Where he feels he can openly express himself without fear of judgement.  We try to live biblically, but we also don’t pull the “honor thy father & mother” when it isn’t age appropriate.  A two-year-old can start to learn to respect parents, but seriously?  That’s not age appropriate knowledge.  And I don’t buy the whole respecting your elders thing.  I think some adults are completely bogus and say bogus things–they should be told so.  And if my child calls them out on it, so be it–I want him to be a truth teller, not a following sheep.  Yep–I said that.  Our greatest hope is that in following Christ, we will show our child with an example in our actions of how to love people, love God.  We try to read the bible (we usually fail at that, it doesn’t happen nearly as often as we’d like) we try to be engaged in our community.  We try to love people and care for them in real ways.  We realize that we will fall short, I will fail August and so will Troy.  But in everything–we hope to point him towards Christ’s redeeming love.  I hope you enjoyed reading about what our family does for discipline, in this stage of life.

 

Resources: 

These are two books that I believe to be instrumental and essential for gentle parenting!  The Whole Brain Child helps you to understand the basic makeup of your little ones brain.  Their brain is still developing every day–some parts of it are not capable of adult functions, and we need to recognize that as we try to move forward as parents.  Boundaries is an excellent book my dad, who is a counselor, recommended to me.  It changed my life.  It’s not specifically for kids (though there is a Boundaries, for Kids) but if you read it and understand more about yourself, I am certain you can help your child with the tools you learn.

The Whole Brain Child 

Boundaries

All my love,

-M

Wounds, Scars, Community


I dedicate this post to Amber. 

This phase of life is constantly throwing curveballs, a bit of chaos here and there, along with some unexpected love from new friends and neighbors we are getting more acquainted with.  As I’m going through the paces of daily mom-life at home with my guy, I can’t help but notice the contrasts and comparisons I see in myself and others–“I’m not nearly as structured as she is,” or “I definitely don’t make a big deal about a mess like that family just did.”  It’s hard to just sit back and allow everyone to be themselves, including me, when you come to know people and start seeing the differences between lives.  But I think that this process couldn’t be more healthy.  We are each going through our journeys, and the way I see it–God made those journeys so vastly different and allowed our lives to have these varying vantage points because he wanted us to grow and learn from one another no matter what steps we are going through on the journey towards our own path.

I have wounds.  As do you.  As much as we like to think otherwise, we have these pains that we carry deep in our being–nothing can quite shake them, even stubbornly ignoring their presence.  These wounds may be caused by skin color, gender, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, lovers, friends.  These will always occur in life–a realization that is hard for me to come to grips with as a mom.  But they will, and they create a minds eye with which we see the world:  We see those who have hurt us, and we see those who can create loving poultices of care to place over our wounds until they heal more fully.  However, these wounds are quite deep and quite vibrantly given to us, and they often remain as scars–not totally new, fresh perfect healed images–but rather scars that we try to cover and forget.

Now, many of us would rather hide than deal with any of this.  We would rather run far away when we have been hurt and see ourselves hurting others–we want to cover, to mask, and to move on without dealing with any of it in real terms.  We may even seek out people we think will allow us to stay far away from those issues–those who will not ask probing or difficult questions, or challenge our strange ways of living with our darkness.  However, I think that very way of living, that way of being–I think it makes a hole in your heart bigger than you can compensate for with fake shallow friendships and surface level conversations.  I think the only way to overcome your longings for what might have been in an “Adam & Eve perfect” world is to confront them completely–but how do you do that?

I think that within community (if you went to my college, you’re probably laughing right about now.  That was the “buzzword” on campus.  That was the annoying phrase every student felt churning in their brain when they wished it would leave them alone.  It’s all we heard nearly all the time as transfers or as freshmen–and it carried through right into graduation for most people,) you are able to find those missing links to bridge the gap.  You may organically find yourself searching, and finding, people who are genuine and sincere, people who love as Christ loves and meets you where you’re at, because in essence they have the same struggles and pains as you–only perhaps in different areas.  They were not met where they were at.  They were not loved for who they are.  They were told they were never going to be good enough.  So when they see you, who too was told these same things, they have a twinge of pain in their hearts and see the ache in your own.  They realize that you are there, shining with your aloneness like a little star out in a lonely space of sky, and that both of you together have the same thing resonating.  The hunger to feel that you belong.  The ache to feel accepted and wanted and delighted in–to be seen as interesting.  This is what I am finding.

And no stabs at anyone’s family or anyone’s habits of character (we all have our flaws), but as an adult I am seeing that my wounds are being soothed by community because God beckons me towards women in particular who are very gentle and open and cast their arms wide for my grief and my pain.  I am finding that they do not have the same flaws I saw growing up, from those I love, and while they have different ones–they are just what I need.

Community.  What does that word mean to you?  As a new friend I’ve got speaks of community she says: “Here’s all the hairiness and dirt and craziness,” (that’s a paraphrase I’m sure).  It’s true.  If you truly want to have your wounds let go of, if you really want to be free of the bondage in your soul, you cannot isolate yourself and create a bubble of people who are safe enough to talk to, but nice enough not to ever ask the questions you need asked.  You will have to find people who dig into your being and come out with a rock that you didn’t even realize was there.  Sometimes these people we allow into our community may be able to see those things we are hiding even from ourselves.  And it will be gritty and dirty and you will probably get offended, and so will others.  But the beauty of the gospel is that forgiveness and grace we allow others and give to ourselves–on account of the grace we were given.  Community means I trust you.  It means I will share my family, my food, and my fortune (as well as misfortune) with you.  What does that mean?  It means apologies for “super real life,” when kids are screaming and the food gets burned.  It also means we don’t have to offer any apologies because we are already accepted and those things are a real part of our lives ever day.  It means our friends in community understand.  It also means that our friends can become a sort of family we never had–a family in Christ where we can heal and we can talk about our pain from growing up or from different stages that are very difficult.  A family we have because God brings them to us.

I am so thankful that I have been accepted where I am at.  I am so grateful for the agape love of Jesus Christ.  So small was my heart when I first accepted him into my life, and how big and full and hurt and fearful and joyful and sad it has been since that first day I decided to lean on him.  I am so happy to find people here that I can be real with.  Who allow me to talk.  Who listen.  But who also speak truth.  I want my roots to go down deep here.

Just a few things I’ve been thinking about in my blogging absence.

All my love,

-M

Growing Like a Weed


He’s forever changing.  Every day, there’s a new word that he tries, or a handful of them.  Something new that he’s understanding or realizing about the world around him.  He’s a toddler, only a little ways from TWO.  Two.  That doesn’t even seem possible, but it is.  I captured him here, so I won’t forget what he was like at 20 months old.  He’s a handsome, hilarious little soul with compassion and an eagerness to learn and know his surroundings.  I just can’t wait to teach him more and more.  He’s got a love of learning, is picking up new signs all the time (our friend taught us “Help” the other day, so now he asks me for help with things, sometimes. 😉 and is really in tune with feelings and emotions.  Smart cookie, what can I say?  I’m smitten.

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Tenacious “Housewives”


Mental hardiness.  Strength.  Tenacity.  (I love that word.  I love how it sounds, and how it rolls off my tongue so deliciously and boldly.) Endurance.  Long-suffering (sometimes).

Things have been falling into a good pattern this new year.  I am happy about that.  A pattern that is more in line with these descriptions.

If you are young, unless you have a close friend who has experienced it themselves or you are currently going through it, you may not know that the transition from singledom to married life to parenthood is not always fluid or glittery like some of hollywood’s fun little portrayals.  Most people seem ill-prepared as I was, for what is to come for them.  Nothing can prepare you.  Nothing.  But I think if we had more people willing to speak of it, that would ease a lot of the heartache.

These actions and life phases are messy, splattered with dirt, grime, and the occasional splatter of heated (truly raging) argument.  Life was extraordinarily hard for us as a newlywed couple (“Newlywed” refers to the first year or so of married life, correct?  Except that’s not always the only definition.  Some people think they’re still newlywed at two years, and others feel the idea has worn off much sooner.  I remember wondering at what point we were no longer considered newlywed.  Now I laugh, because we have an attention-grabbing son and I do not at all think I am newlywed, no hint of it here!) with our getting to understand one another’s patterns and rhythms and communication ways.  With getting to understand what it really means to choose to love someone.  Not just to feel like it.  Because when the cold, hard, scathing reality hits you with a very distinct WHACK on the head, that you are both really screwed up and desperately need to be recreated and redeemed, it will be a choice of staying and loving, or running and running far–hiding away.  I remember very vividly getting into my car and slamming the door, and I’m being vulnerably honest here, having packed a bag of my belongings, and driving to my parents house at least a few times in those early months.  I think once I actually stayed overnight, and I just needed to work things out and get over them.  But many times I just drove partway, and then fickly turned around and we made up and chose to show love to on another.  It was hard–and the difficulties required heartiness in order for us to not continue going back to the same old fights and issues. And things are not that way anymore, they are not all dramatic and painful and ridiculous, misunderstood.  We still have blow ups once in awhile, and this move has been hard on our communication and Troy’s overtime has definitely been an obstacle we’ve had to maneuver around.  And I venture to say it’s more like that picture I just painted for most people than they would like to admit or let on to.  This world is simply too happy to hear the simple, easy version of things, whereas the realities are not so readily boiled down or explained.  People have stories in their marriages that are much more detailed and layered.

There are nuances.  There are crazy realizations.  There are dumb smacks in the face when you start realizing what your spouse actually needed from you (but doesn’t know how to ask for) or what your child had been trying to say in their own (20-month-old) fussy way.

Days can be rough.  The toaster oven can catch fire and the dog can start puking, and you can be just standing there in a tee-shirt and pajama pants, looking as frumpy as can be and as confused and annoyed as the dickens.  Wondering if your life will always be a dog-puke delight.  Wondering if you’ll ever nab a moment to remove that weeks-old chipped nail polish that’s starting to look intentional.  Weeks can be  bone-dry and red-eyed, they can be expletive worthy, they can make you want to just leave everything –but you know what?  They don’t stay like that forever.  It is not an eternal place, as I have seen at least in the last month or so.  I feel there is plenty of hope, even for people who may be emotional, or hormonal, or unstable, or stress-level-through-the-roof individuals as I have been before.  Sometimes you just have to wait it out long enough, I suppose, and get on your knees again.

The hope I am feeling, lately in my journey, is a hearty and steady resilience that is being built up.  Built up by changing dirty diapers, by taking walks in the cold because “dang it, we need to get out!”, by doing load after load of laundry and folding and putting it up, of giving a massage when I want one for myself.  It is channeled through listening when I feel like yelling, by giving another chance when I feel like giving up, by ignoring something irritating when I feel its the last straw.  And as a housewife (I’d rather call myself a house person!  I hate that term.. haha) there is so much to do here, and I think the mental challenge of it all sometimes has gotten me so down.  But instead of even thinking of it, lately, I have just been DOING.  Just do it.  Nike.  So silly.  But really, in just doing things, I have developed some patterns and I think that God is giving me some household tenacity.  Some drive when I was so weary from such little work before.  And I am a hard worker, but giving up yourself and giving up tending to your needs because you have a son and a house to care for, is not for the weak, and I am learning just what it takes to be a “housewife,” as lame and totally boxed-in as that term is.  I have a new respect for those hard working people I know and love, the ones who do the behind-the-scenes marching and grunt-work.  I have a shining admiration for their hearts, for their souls which could so easily turn towards indignation and pride, towards begrudgingly caring for people instead of doing it lovingly, but with Christ’s love and affirmation they selflessly keep going.  They continue to love with the gut-wrenching self sacrifice that is everyday life to them, service to others without complaining.  What does it take to give to others willingly, with no expectations?  That is what Jesus is asking me lately.  And He is telling me that it takes his love.  It takes his heart and his spirit.  Not mine.  Mine could kick everyone to the curb and say “See ya, suckers!”  But His.  His is so amazingly giving and full of delight in it, too.

All this to say, sorry I’ve been away so long, here’s what I’m thinking of.

Just another piece of my life puzzle.  Dark coming into light.

All my love,

-M

Holiday Awry–What To Do?


I say “Awry,” because of this very definition:

adverb & adjective
 1.
away from the appropriate, planned, or expected course; amiss.
“many youthful romances go awry
And awry our holiday has gone, because you see, our holidays are not as they once were.  It’s gone on an extended stay vacation away, and I seldom believe it will return–anyhow, not in the same way it left.  For me, as a little girl, my holidays consisted of such merriment, as I recall it fondly.  My grandmother would ask me to play a few carols at the piano and some of us might sing, my family would always give “prank gifts” that were hilarious, there was a roaring fire that my grandpa always made (which lasted for hours), and the food was just a gem of a sight when your eyes and tastebuds delighted in it.  The table was set perfectly in order, and it was a family ordeal to create everything as tradition would have it.  The mashed potatoes were always creamy and filled with perfect amounts of butter, the gravy was sumptuous and had nothing lacking as it sat taunting us all in the delicate and beautiful gravy bowl that was used every year.  Grandpa might make the egg noodles, as they were his favorite, and each one of us loved the dinner rolls.  I think my dad and uncle took turns carving the turkey, and arranging it on the platter.  After the meal was over, we would all sit around the table for a long time and hear and tell our own stories.  Grandpa laughed uproariously, and how I miss my grandma’s laughter as well.  When I got bored of listening to the adults talk, I would usually venture downstairs to see what mischief my cousins and I could get into.  As over-the-top as my memories of these holidays gone by may be, they are treasures to me since they are no more.
I always have to mourn a little bit, because I will allow myself that each year–not for a long time, but to acknowledge things as they are now.  In 2007, in the summertime before I graduated high school, my grandma died after a battle with cancer.  I have tried not to think of this in a terrible, “Why? Why?” sort of way anymore, but in a way that says, “This is how it ended, and this is how it was.  I need to try to remember her and make her proud with my own legacy.  Remember her for what we did have, not for what she had to miss (things like the birth of my first child, my wedding day, etc.)–remember the egg hunts, the long conversations, going to church together and hearing her sing loudly, her amazingly special way of making everything so damn memorable.  Really.  That’s the only way I have to describe it.  She had ways of doing things that were “just so,” and you can’t emulate it even if you try to make it a science.
So anyhow, she passed away, and we all seemed to realize that she was the thick glue holding our family together.  Since then, things slowly deteriorated I feel.  They are awkward and strained, to this day, with relationships and with holidays.  Because we know our holidays just won’t be what we thought, no matter what.
But not only did she pass away, but a few years afterward our family was the recipient of some horrible treatment, and some horrible actions that are difficult to swallow for everybody–me being one of the least affected, and I am still staggering from the blow.  My grandfather passed away a few years ago, (honestly, I try to block all of that out and I don’t even remember the day and the year that he died–I think it was a November) and we are left with a gaping chasm of a  hole in our hearts.  I did not go to the funeral for many reasons–but the first of which being that it was also the day of our important first ultrasound appointment.  I will not talk about the circumstances surrounding his death, and the things that occurred prior, in respect for the honorable man we remember him to be, but I will say this: Nobody should have to die alone, without their family.  Their REAL family.  Not some made up fantasy that someone told to take advantage of another.  And through tragedy, and I mean tragedy brought upon us by other people purposefully–not tragedy that happens naturally such as a death, we have grieved and we have tried to make sense.
What does this all mean for me?  What the hell do I do with this loss?  It is a huge symbol of the grace of God & the broken creation which we live in–and I will continue to hold it as so in my mind.  It was and still is an image peeking back in me, of paradise lost.  This is never how God intended relationship to be.  One strained painful thing after another?  No.  One massive slap in the face from individuals who claim to be “Christians,” but act like vipers?  No.  Taking advantage of others bad circumstances as much as is possible for humans to do?  Hell no.  God meant for us to have community, and we chose our own way.  We chose the freedom that God allowed us and wanted us to have, so that we may also freely love him if we choose that path.  And through it all Jesus is there, telling me that his wounds and his blood are enough.  That the crown of thorns on his head is enough for me, and the slaps from a whip on his back are enough for me.  Enough to cover this.  Enough to really cover a personal family tragedy, a story of pain and of hatred and of sorrow for what was lost.  And I have to continually ask him, “Really, Jesus?  Really?  Are you enough?  Are those wounds enough?”  I’m sure it is hard for him to hear me always asking.  How I love him, this patient Savior.  Listening to my doubt as one might hear a child questioning gravity, or other known facts.
In a new heaven and a new earth, there will be no more sorrow.  There will be no more gnashing of teeth, or mourning.
I rejoice in that, and I rejoice that my Good God never wanted to put humans through this kind of pain.  He never wished this for us in his grand plan of creation.
-M

Life, so swiftly.


Life bounds quickly toward me at an alarming pace, these days.  I don’t think it’s a bad thing, but it certainly reminds me of the brevity I face when going about my daily tasks.  It reprimands me at times– I don’t want to waste a day, don’t want to miss a smile that my baby throws my way, don’t want to take it for granted.  Don’t want to get lost in the blur that can become “busy, busy, busy,” “Go, Go, GO!” We have places to go and people to see.  I will always cherish that stolen moment when my hubby grabs my hand and we have a little kiss.  Those are the seconds I live for and this time of great change really hits it home that I must keep those things alive.

We are moving to Colorado, if you haven’t heard the news!  It was a whirlwind adventure, and someday I will have to write it all out and explain in more detail.  As of now, my home is an utter wreck, and there is still much to do only 6 days from departure for our new state–so I don’t have as much time to explain as I’d like.  Or as much time to process a lot of things.  But whew what a mess things can get into!  I don’t mind the mess until I can’t find one thing, then can’t find another.  I ask for God’s grace daily to make me see the big picture and not these tiny scary details.  Such as “Crap, I don’t know where this really important thing that I can’t live without went!”  We have a lot of help from family and friends in getting this place ready, and in packing up our entire home.  We have meetings with our realtor later in the week (we already did one prelim meeting) to finalize more things and go over paperwork.  My heart was full of joy yet sad in the same beat, as we put up our sign in the front yard and declared it done.  Our home is nearly “officially” on the market.  This home that is our first place of origin, our first place of memories as a married couple.  The home that August will probably never recall now!  Life just whisks on by.  Let me tell you, lessons and conversations and growth and pain and joy have all transpired within these walls.  And so, so much love and laughter.  I must allow myself to mourn because it is only natural, but I am looking forward to so much as well!  New relationships!  New church.  New moments with our baby’s first hike in Pike’s Peak, etc. etc. etc.  So much nature.  So much opportunity!

So, I just wanted to give a little update.  Things are going by quickly, and I didn’t want to entirely neglect my blog of happenings.  August is blossoming always.  His heart and mind are amazing to me.  He is capable of feeling so much, sensing so much.  Telling us multitudes.  God is surely incredible in his capacity to care for the tiniest details of this life, and yet how much there is that I do not understand.

He is good.  He is faithful.  He is loving.  Those things I know for certain.

I hope to post again when we are settled in, or perhaps I will post a farewell when our home is all packed up.  As a final remembrance.  I’m sure I may have tears in my eyes.

All my love,

-M

Friday Faves!


Here I am again, posting our faves on Saturday! But better late than never. 🙂 Have a look at this weeks fun Friday favorites–I hope you enjoy peeking into our lives.

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I’ve been reminiscing on some of our travels and fun times this week. We collect these pub glasses and will surely add to our stash as time goes on. They remind us of where we’ve been and what we were enjoying and doing when we acquired them. Plus, they’re just fun. 😉

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August simply cannot get enough of “Brown Bear, Brown Bear,” this week! I’m more than happy to consent when he points to it and eagerly smiles and waits to see if I will indeed peruse the pages with him a second or third time that day. I love his enthusiasm! Carle has always been a favorite of mine with his unique illustrations. August loves the sounds and colors on each page, and I enjoy seeing his eyes light up as he recognizes the cat and dog. They are his primary focus right now because he has daily interactions with kitties and doggies, so he easily identifies them and accompanies the reading with lots of “woof woof!” And “mowww mowww” sounds. So funny! So cute.

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As many a parent would admit, sleep is one of the downsides of this phase of life. No matter what, I have felt drained most mornings when I arise. Once I began wearing this sleep mask, however, I felt a bit better. I also noticed that it became more easy for me to fall asleep quickly. I read this article, http://wellnessmama.com/3531/is-your-sleep-ruining-your-health/ , and realized why I always felt annoyed that there was so much light filtering in from the street lamps close to our house. My body was instinctively telling me that I wouldn’t be doing it much good trying to rest like that, as the light inhibits melatonin production. Completely fascinating! Check it out, I feel this mask has helped immensely even though little guy awakens regularly these nights. Oh, and don’t ask me about the “forever blue” monogram. I have no idea what that’s about!

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Last but not least, my mother in law gave us a juicer recently, and it’s awesome. I love having it as a quick immune boost and cleansing helper in our arsenal of natural food stuffs. Carrot juice has to be my favorite. I’ve also made a mean beet and berry combo that tasted great, not too bitter and just a hint of sweetness added to the beet’s earthy flavors. Yum! So we’re all enjoying this juice man jr., even August really likes it.

That’s all for now, have a great weekend!

All my love,

-M

Waiting


“Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans”– John Lennon.

This quote would sum up how I feel life has been lately.  We’re making tons of plans and preparations, trying to do our best to be ready and be focused.  But in the meantime life is happening!

Waiting on God’s plans, waiting on something to happen, waiting to make decisions, waiting, waiting, waiting, is the game we’re in now.  But you know what?  Waiting has this way of making you stagnate, making you start becoming a little bump on a log that in turn becomes a big bump on a log that has all of these feelings and upsets attached to it.  Waiting is no way to go about living your life–I’ve learned from just the bit of waiting we’ve done.  So what have we tried to do in place of our waiting?  We have tried to make it less of the centre of things, and more the peripheral.  I have personally tried to push myself into things that give joy and relief to my spirit.  To create, to dream, to get active and break a sweat, stretch and challenge myself with yoga or a good complicated novel.  Trying something new and strange to me.  All big important things to my functioning.

Waiting on life is a sinkhole.  We are still waiting to an extent, but we are fighting to not let that become who we are.  Trying to see the joys, appreciate the people near to us, and aspire towards who we believe God created us to be step by baby step.  And I truly cherish many things that have occurred during this waiting game.  Many a vulnerable late night conversation with my husband has transpired.  Giggle fests in the afternoons when I put down whatever I’m doing and make my child more important.  Each day I try to get down on the floor with him and play and chase him around, becoming a child again.  Gazing with wonder and bewilderment at the surrounding adventure that is our home and this big, beautiful world.  He sees it all with new eyes, and that refreshes me in a way I cannot even describe.  The whole world is new to him.  In this waiting season, we have been able to spend so much more time with my family and been able to experience their relationship with August blossoming–truly a gift.  There is much to be thankful for in this period of our lives, even if it is not necessarily what we envisioned it to be.

Are you waiting?  Are you in a difficult time?  I feel for you, I really do.  God will give you rest and show you his path–sometimes it is far from where your own used to be, but I know that his guidance has time and time again astounded me.  Shocked me back to reality–the reality that He loves me and has bigger, greater plans than I could imagine.

All my love,

-M