Strong For Her Tasks Part 2 - A letter to Julia and Ilaria

Dear sweet girls,

I recently made the very careful choice to resign from my job to be with you. I want you to know that I never encourage "quitting," but peace is essential in life. I truly love teaching, but my heart felt extremely heavy and conflicted every single day before I committed to this decision. I felt split, scattered, burdened, and frustrated. I felt time slipping through my fingers as my exhausted mind and body half-way witnessed you grow. I desperately wanted to be fully present for you. I wanted to relish this time and make all the necessary sacrifices so it could be possible. I am thankful for your Daddy and his encouragement through it all.

I have dreamed of being your mommy and a wife for my whole life. Don't get me wrong, I have many other dreams, too. Actually, I dream and create all the time. But, right now, I hear God telling me it's time to invest in my family. Even writing this out makes my heart feel so much peace and sheer joy. This morning, I felt called to read Proverbs 31:10-31 again. In my letter to Julia I focused on the part in verse 17, "She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks." The funny thing is that there's a new kind of work and, most definitely, a new kind of strength required now. Once again, I am made to realize women are phenomenal creatures. We adapt and we're gritty.

I now have the privilege of spending my days with you, and God has written new pages of my story. I never could have dreamed I'd get to be here. Literally, a page turn over from Proverbs 31 is a whole section in Ecclesiastes about time. There is truly a time for all things. It says specifically that there's a time to plant and a time to uproot. It doesn't distinguish how long those seasons last or how close they might be to one another. I find myself uprooting from one part of life and planting, so very carefully, in another. I am right where He needs me.

Now it's time to plant, heal, and build. Girls, it's time to laugh, time to dance, and it is, without question, a time to keep.

Love,

Mommy

A Beautiful Day Outside

"It's a beautiful day outside!" Julia remarked from the backseat as gray skies prevailed and rain drenched the streets. We were on our way to the library after painting pottery together on a rare mother/daughter date (sans baby). Whether she was being sarcastic or totally serious with her statement, I am still not completely sure. Regardless, it made me think deeper into her little mind. To her, maybe rainy days are pretty. She hasn't necessarily been around long enough to be swayed by popular opinions about the weather and how it is supposed to affect us. Come to think of it, she doesn't even know how to be sarcastic yet. 

Over the last month or so (since bringing home her baby sister, Ilaria), we've had our struggles. Actually, I have to admit that my weepy moments in the first weeks were not due to the newborn, but because of the strained relationship with my toddler. I could just look at her and tears would fill my eyes. Julia had been our whole world for 2 years and 8 months. For the first time in her life, I wasn't seeing her consistently. I couldn't follow our routines or physically keep up. I wasn't allowed drive her anywhere, much less lift or carry her. It was really hard and I found myself missing her, even if she was in the same room. 

After those weepy, beginning weeks it hasn't gotten much easier. She's been testing us - mainly me -with extreme spurts of defiance. She won't listen and doesn't comply a lot of the time. She argues. She refuses to eat dinner. She lays down on the floor in tantrum mode. The picture above shows her sprawled out, after a time out, still refusing to put away those letters and fast asleep from all the energy released in her little struggle. She has become a really solid 2 year old - the kind you always hear about but refuse to believe you'll actually inherit. We've "parented" until our options have run dry. It's tough sometimes. 

When I really sit on that statement she made about the weather, though, I realize her little mind is clearer. It's less swamped, less complicated, and knows so much less. Her mind is new, fresh, and impressionable. In a just few weeks time, she's been taken out of her typical routine and moved over (partially) out of the spotlight. Her mama has been, well, tired, less available, and short-fused. She's been forced to welcome a teeny stranger into her home and witness large amounts of crying and blow-out poopy diapers. I have had to conclude that she probably, and very simply, just wants to feel the old, familiar love. She is craving it. One afternoon, in fact, she wouldn't stop crying and she whined, "Mama, hold me. Mama kiss me." My heart broke right there and it still didn't feel like there were enough pieces of it to go around. In this same moment, imagine me stationed in place, feeding the baby, with the toddler crying and the Yorkie barking to be let outside. She just wants to be listened to, hugged, read to, and played with. She also very likely believes that every day is beautiful outside. 

All this innocence is truly beautiful. In these tough days where growing hurts and transitions are painful, I have to remind myself to treasure it all. In comparison to my itty-bitty

nine pound, five-week-old infant, Julia seems so big. She's getting bigger every single day. That's just what happens and you cannot stop it. On a short family walk after dinner, she said, "I'm teachin' you how to be parents. I do that." I giggled, "Julia, where did you hear that?" and it quickly dawned on me, as she often does, that she was directly quoting one of her books, You Were the First. It is such a sweet story about the important role a first child has in the life of a family. We had to chuckle at how timely and how funny it was that she chose to say this part of the story aloud. She is teaching us how to be parents. We are learning as she learns. We get to love her and continue to shape her mind, but we need a lot of grace through the process. What an amazing (yet ridiculously challenging) gift. 

God teaches us that His compassions never fail because of a Great Love. We are made in His image and so have this fiery love for our own children. He also reminds us that His mercies are renewed each day. Therefore, we continue in faith, no matter what each day brings. So yes, I guess it is even possible for us to help Julia to continue to admire the rain as we weather these new, proverbial storms. After all, rain does indeed help things to become green and flourish. 

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

We Were Made to Hold on

Courtney Malone Photography

We are three weeks in as a family of four and we've been extremely fortunate to have many family members and friends come to love on us over the last few weeks. For me, it is one of the best parts of bringing baby home. With that said, I happen to have a couple of close friends who are weeks away from joining the "Family of Four Club." Naturally, they are very curious how it is really going. One of them jokingly remarked that it seemed like everything was going perfectly based on my Instagram posts. That was when it hit me that I had something more to share. 

Let's backtrack to week one of bringing home baby #2. We came home from the hospital on July 4th. For those of you who don't know, we have another daughter, Julia, who is 2 years and 8 months old. We intricately planned the logistics of how we'd bring baby home so that our oldest would assume her role as "Big Sis." We made sure she was at the hospital with us and that she rode home in the car and even helped carry the baby over the threshold. We wanted her to feel established and big and important. We were home only a few minutes before chaos ensued. Julia got out the baby play mat, laid under it, and reverted back to a full-blown, cooing, babbling baby. Our extremely verbal, capable toddler was acting just like an infant. You hear stories about kids reverting...but this...this was unreal. 

That same afternoon, I was doing my best to get the hang of breastfeeding without the support of a remote-controlled hospital bed. Having had a second c-section, sitting on the couch to feed was awkward and uncomfortable. As I am leading that ring of the circus, Julia begins to require one-on-one attention from her daddy. For the past two months, she has refused to poo in the potty OR in her diaper. She withholds for up to six days until it is painful. Well, homecoming day was one of those special, painful days. It lasted for three hours (whining, cramping, repeat) until she finally went. Homecoming day concluded as Julia and Chris watched fireworks from the driveway, and I was able to see a few out the living room window from my swivel chair as I fed the babe. 

I don't remember much about the next day. Late the following evening (around 1:30 am) Chris took his temperature and discovered he had a fever of 102.3. I, of course, banished him to the man cave to sleep and called my mom in the middle of the night to come help me. We changed the sheets and she slept over with me, helping with diaper changes every couple of hours. My mother-in-law immediately drove from the lake the next morning and picked up Julia. She took her to stay at the lake for a couple of days. Meanwhile, Chris went to the doctor the next day only to find out that he has some kind of virus that causes chills, fever, skin sensitivity, and loss of appetite. He had to stay away from baby for 48 hours post fever, so he spent his nights at his parent's house. He and Julia were finally able to rejoin us on Sunday. 

Fast forward to the second week where we ended up taking a middle-of-the-night trip to the ER for some (what turned out to be minor) complications. My mom, once again, came rushing over in the middle of the night to stay with Julia. From 2:00 am-6:00 am I had blood work and ultrasounds. In the midst of all that, I had to breastfeed an infant in my emergency room bed with an IV in one arm. It was laughable. After I was discharged, we stopped at McDonalds for  biscuit at sunrise and went straight home to sterilize ourselves and the baby. Truly, we just had to laugh.

As I think back on some of the sweet moments in all the aforementioned chaos, I remember my brother meeting Ilaria for the first time. As a doctor, he can't help but put his skills to use and check for things like infant reflexes. As he checked the grasp reflex, her tiny fingers instantly wrapped around his. It has stuck with me since then that we were literally made to hold on. From the beginning, one of our first instincts is to cling on. It is not the first time that this little phenomenon has left me inspired (read here). We were made to hold on. We need each other. We need our parents. We need our friends. Babies need their mommies. Mommies need their babies. We were made to hold on and we were made to  love and be loved. It was definitely not a mistake, but a tiny hint from God, that we come into the world with this need, literally.

Metaphorically speaking, we were also made to hold on. When life gets tough, we have to hold on. When life is really good, we joyfully hold on. On a roller coaster, through all the dips and whirls, you naturally grasp tightly. We hold on in gratitude, and we hold on in the expectation that we will continue to have something to grasp. Having something to cling to can also always be equated to the promise that we never walk alone.  

So, I guess you can say we've held on in the last few weeks and, honestly, it has been really, really good. We've had friends bring us meals and stay to keep us company. We've had great medical care. We've had family step in and care for us without question - at any hour. And, we have a beautiful new daughter to wrap her tiny fingers around ours and remind us (in case we almost forgot) that we were made for one another and to hold on. 

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Psalm 129:13

The Mystery of You

It was late in my pregnancy with Julia when I found myself nesting in the aisles of Homegoods, and an older woman approached me. These words flowed from her with the kind of wisdom only grandmothers and teachers can give: "Pregnancy is the only time we get to help God perform a miracle." What a joy-packed, life-giving, and grace-filled statement that is. 

As we are two days away from knowing the sex of our new baby, it does not escape me that God has once again allowed me to help Him. I am truly soaking up the anticipation and the excitement in these last days of wonder. When Wednesday comes, we will get to know our child a little more. Part of the mystery of who this little one is in there will be shown to us. Isn't it funny that I am physically carrying this baby as he or she lives within me, yet God already knows every minute detail? Every hair. Every attribute. Every smile. Every up. Every down. All the days to come? So, while we wait in anticipation of black and white ultrasound videos and a determination of sex, God has been there and will be there creating it all.

I can't help but think He grins a little over my literal dreams each night concerning the reveal. I bet he loves that we sit debating boy or girl, making silly predictions where we have a 50% chance of being right. Whether we realize it or not, all of these antics and conversations inevitably stem from the fact that we are completely in awe of creation and the divine nature of our Creator. 

Some people choose not to find out if their baby is a boy/girl and want to wait until birth. I think that's wonderful (and frankly I wish I had it within me!) but, finding out (for me) means that the pregnancy becomes less clinical and much more personally connected. I love that we can get to know this little person already. I am ecstatic to know whether we will have a son or daughter or if Julia will gain a brother or sister. I am not ignoring the fact that Wednesday also shows us the progression of development and the physical health of our baby. I am praying big things for this little one. 

There are few times in life with good, uncontrolled surprises. As I sit and contemplate a little longer, in a few days I know I'll wish  I remembered exactly what the unknown felt like. As I have dreamed of the future, I've always wondered how many sons and daughters we'd have and what they would be like. The unknown seems to be a dim place of earthy uncertainty but an opportunity to hold onto a bright, ethereal out-stretched hand from heaven. So, today I will sit here and look down at this little  growing bump, soaking up the mystery of it all. 

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse. Romans 1:20

Enjoy the Little Things

As many of us start to gear up for a new school year or a new season, stress creeps in. As a teacher, this is especially true. Beating the crowds for school supplies, outfitting myself and the baby, realizing that my 'free time' is dwindling, beginning to lesson plan and get the classroom in top shape, etc. The list truly goes on and on (so much so that I even dream about it). I will be the first to admit that I swing on the Type A side and I am anxious over much of life. I want everything to fit into a controlled box with all that I do. Admittedly, motherhood has changed that side of me a bit. That's what I want to talk about today. Today, August 7th, as things begin to be stressful again, I want to SLOW down and focus on a few of the sweet gifts that motherhood has thrown at me. I have been tinkering with these ideas and this perception for a while.

Seasons don't slow down and seconds aren't ever extended. As I have been able to be home with Julia this summer, I have also had time to think. I have had time to scroll one too many times on Facebook as well. I am sure you've seen the negative mommy articles that tend to circulate and how people negatively portray life with children or reiterate the scary, frustrating things. Sure, there are those days where you cannot get anything done: laundry is piling up, your freshly-vacuumed floor is quickly flooded with books and toys, your list of errands is still just a list, your intentions feel like they will always be intentions. I get it. We are busy. Some days we definitely feel tired and mentally weak. Believe me, I get that too. We also live in that kind of high-expectations, ever-busy society and to top it off, you're a mom.

The thing is, motherhood can be one of the very best stress relievers. Yes, you read that right. I'll say it again. Becoming a mom can reduce stress. Hear me out for a second: When you're a mom, you are forced to stop thinking about just yourself. It can be a good distraction from the daily grind. I'd like to offer you a positive (and hopefully convincing) To Do list that provides a variety of ways to soak in just how good motherhood is for the soul. This is a list of  Motherhood "To Dos" that will actually allow you to breathe deeply, calm your being, and laugh a whole lot more.

1. WALK

 Push that stroller. Take in some fresh air and stretch your legs. Peruse the neighborhood and narrate your surroundings. You might even notice something new.

2. READ

Use silly voices. Relive your old favorites. Read the same story so many times you've memorized it. Try to recite it in your free time (character voices are optional).

3. SING

Your baby doesn't know that you can't carry a tune. Sing! Sing anywhere. Sing all the time. Turn on Disney Pandora and belt it out.

4. DANCE

While you sing, throw in some ridiculous moves. Let her copy you. Have a dance party in the kitchen before dinner.

4. CREATE

When was the last time you sat in the driveway and drew with chalk? Now's your chance. Buy some big bottles of tempera paint. Show her how to mix colors. Buy fresh crayons and construction paper (Who doesn't love a new box of crayons?). Pull out one of those orphan socks and make a puppet. You can shamelessly keep the Amazon boxes an extra week or two and make a "house" or a "rocket ship." Why not?

5. PLAY

You now have a real excuse to go down the toy aisle (as if you needed one, right?!).  All your old faithful toys that have been housed in attic boxes can make a come back. Dress up. Blow bubbles. Imagine and dream. Relive the glory days. Find that little girl you used to be.

7. GO

Explore the city around you with new eyes. Explore the museum. Sit with a stack of books on the floor at the library. Watch her run through the splash pad at the park. Skip the crowd at the new restaurant for the Early Bird Special. Strap on the carrier and take a hike. Indulge in your hometown.

6. MAKE A MESS

Play in the sandbox. Put your hands and feet in. Make play dough over the stove. Roll it into a ball and then work it into a "snake." Eat ice cream and don't worry if it drips a little down the side. Watch your child try spaghetti for the first time. Take a picture. Love the mess (or at least try)!


7. DRAW A BATH

Fill the tub with stack-able cups, squirt toys, and lots of bubbles. Take in that lavender baby bath soap smell. Seriously, SWEETEST. SMELL. EVER. It wont last forever.

8. SNUGGLE

After that warm bath, settle in with the lights off and sit in that glider. Rock and just stare at that glorious gift in your arms. Don't look at the time or your phone. Notice how she looks that day. Stay in that moment without mentally fast-forwarding. Let time be where it is. Let yourself smile.

9. PRAY

Tell the Lord how grateful you are. Pray for her future. Pray for her development and her relationships. Let her be yet another wonderful reason to pray.

10. LOVE (ON REPEAT)

As you do these things over and over, enjoy them in her different and refreshed stages. Hug her, give her forehead and cheeks sweet little kisses. Tell her you love her. Your heart will be so thankful.


Remember to enjoy the little things.

Love,

Lauren

The Itchy Halo

"Now, as we line up, think about how special it is to get to do this!" 

[The class begins walking to the sanctuary] 

"My halo itches..." complained one. 

"This crown is too tight," retorted another.

"Do we have to stand the whole time?" a third questioned.

This year has marked quite a transition in my career as an educator. Last year I taught 20 children at a Title 1 elementary school. This year I teach 13 at a private, Christian school. This year, my class just so happened to be the Nativity in the school Christmas program. It was especially remarkable for me to watch my students portray the wise men, shepherds, angels, Mary, and Joseph. I felt reflective, thankful, and tearful, even to get to hold the baby doll Jesus for my seven-year-old "Mary" as she waited to go up on stage. This year, I finally get to speak real, Christmas truths to my 2nd graders every morning in preparation for the portrayal of these roles.

As we went through dress rehearsal and I heard the quotations aforementioned above, I couldn't help but continue to think about how relevant their comments are to the story they are telling. It was easy, as their teacher, to go immediately to the place of correction. "Let's not complain! You get to have such a special opportunity this year to be the Nativity!" But, as I thought about it more and more, there was a better more teachable moment to explore. 

The day of the performance, as we had our morning devotion in the classroom, I said something like this to my students: "As we were rehearsing yesterday, I heard an awful lot of complaining. A lot of you mentioned how uncomfortable you were in your costumes and how hard it was to stand and wait for so long. I want you to think back to the day that Jesus was born. Do you think that Mary was comfortable? Having a baby in a barn probably wouldn't have been too much fun, right? She was probably scared and nervous, too. What about Joseph? Do you think he was worried about Mary? Do you think he wished there had been a more appropriate place for them to stay that night? Now let's also consider how far the wise men traveled in search of Jesus. I wonder if their feet were hurting? I wonder if they were tired of carrying all of their belongings and the gifts? Lastly, there was our King. He was basically born in a barn and then his first bed was a feeding trough for animals. I bet he was pretty uncomfortable, too. As you get uncomfortable today, remember how true those feelings were for the people you are representing." 

I haven't really stopped thinking about this conversation. It is natural for kids to grumble and say things like that in costume but something really special has come from this small moment - an epiphany of sorts. God sent his only Son for us and gave Him up for us - sacrificial, painful love. Mary gave birth to Jesus in a stable - blinding, fearful trust. Jesus was born and slept his first nights in a manger - humbly, meekly and a totally unexpected entrance for a King. Jesus then was crucified on a cross for our sins - excruciating obedience. All were beyond uncomfortable so that God could fulfill the ultimate love story which begins as, well, Christmas. 

We are not called to be Christians to live a life of comfort. We are called to be uncomfortable. We are called to step out and be His hands and feet, his disciples, in exchange for an everlasting, forgiven life. 

I pondered this. What does it mean for me? The next time I'm in a hurry at the grocery store, I need to take a millisecond to smile or offer a "Merry Christmas" to a stranger. I need to give financially more often to help others (even if I "can't afford to"). I need be more obedient to the Holy Spirit when I feel pushed to do the right thing in those moments of weakness. I need to give of my time. I need to tell others about Jesus and how much I love Him. None of these discomforts even come close to the pain He felt for us. 

I don't know about you, but I have definitely been the one to complain about the itchy, often crooked, halo. I have failed to see that the moments of discomfort in life are the ones where we have the opportunity to shine more brightly for our Lord and Savior. We can be thankful for our itchy halos and too-tight crowns. After all, what a privilege it is to wear them at all.  

"I have come that they may have life and have it to the full." John 10:10

Merriest Christmas,

Lauren

(See also Matthew 28:19)

Forever Mine

Dear Sweet Julia,

After I put you in new, one size-up pajamas after your big girl bath time and rocked you to bed, I have to write this to you. We had a wonderful day; you have become quite my little sidekick: We walked almost five miles on the Swamp Rabbit with new mama and baby friends. We took the dogs to the vet for their check-up. I gave you cantaloupe, green beans and even a bite of ham with your pureed, squash dinner. We blew bubbles on the bench in the backyard and you giggled and belly laughed at them. What a wonder you are, Julia. What joy you bring to me and us, my littlest love.

You see, as I was rocking you, I sang a variety of songs like I try to do on most nights. I sang "Amazing Grace" last but added in the "My Chains are Gone" verses on repeat. Something just struck a chord with me during that quiet time. The lyrics were a great reminder that I have been saved from the darkness and toils of this world. I am found in Christ. I pray that you will know this truth and hold it in your heart so that you can show grace, love, and mercy to everyone. Our world needs those things so desperately.

I also realized, in the last line, "You'll be forever Mine...You are forever Mine" I want/wish to apply those verses to my relationship with YOU but I can't. I love you so much my heart could burst. I love you so much that tears fill my eyes just thinking about how much I love you and how much I want to protect you. But, you are a gift entrusted to me from our Father. Our time on this earth is fleeting and fast; it isn't forever. (Unfortunately that whole "put a brick on your head" doesn't actually stop you from growing up too quickly.) I just thought you would stay a baby so much longer. And it hit me..."you are forever Mine" is a lyric that reveals a gleam in words of His love for us -- His children. As I rocked and felt totally at peace and content holding you, looking at your sleeping eyes and your tiny hands resting on me, I felt God's love. He sees the best in us. He loves us so much. We are His children forever. What a beautiful thing. I cannot imagine if I love you as much as I do just how much He loves us. I cannot imagine how much He wants for us to love Him back and to have a relationship with Him.

One day, I hope you get to be a mama. It is SUCH a glorious gift no matter how it comes to be. He lets a mother's love be that great to give us a glimpse of the love He has for us. I believe He also gives us children to show us how He views us: unblemished, unique, full of potential, and in constant need of grace, guidance, and protection.

I love you, Julia. He loves you more. He chose us to be yours. We'll be forever His. You'll be forever His.

Love,

Your Mama