This topic I'm about to talk about came to mind after chatting with a friend about the imbalance of being a wife, mom, a woman who works outside of the home and definitely last but not least, a human who has feelings. What if there's no true balance and right when we think we've found it, we have to put another thing on our plate or take off our plate? What if our expectations of happiness are too high and that we should really be seeking truth? What if part of the truth of life is embracing sadness? What if allowing momentary sadness brings us joy?
Unfortunately, my stress response is control. I become a task master. Sometimes it means bossing my family around and other times I clean with a level of intensity that is only needed in a surgical room. Crying, strong emotion, and grieving are instinctively last on my list of what I let show. Typically, I tend to blame others and then try to make sure I'm validated by someone else in my poor behavior choices. After I've avoided ME for so long and I've stopped trying to manage everyone and everything, I feel a tickle in my throat. The tickle moves up to my eyes and then they get damp. I think to myself, what is this? My damp foggy eyes can't hold the water back and my face starts to contort. It's ugly and uncontrolled. Some noise seems to move from the bottom of my lungs and move up out of my mouth. Oh how I despise this feeling. My body is speaking for my hurting soul. At first when this happens, I get mad and try to control it but the anger doesn't even make sense! Now I feel down right insane! Where is this coming from? It's weakness and I'm mad that I feel weak. I was totally fine! I am fine! Calm down. Pull it together. Why do I feel so out of control and and and...sad?
Why is it so hard to be sad? The sadness only wants to be recognized. It's a very real part of life but for some reason it's really hard to be sad. It's soooo taboo. Our society says, being a dick is better than being sad. That sucks because there are a lot of sad people disguised as assholes. One thing I know about being sad, is that it doesn't go away with time. It gets buried under addictions, titles, medications, religiousness, jealousy, big fake smiles, clothing, food, exercise, self-hate, and the list goes on. All the ways we cope or don't cope wires us and our behavior. We were wired to cry a little here and there but crying is ugly and crying can get loud. Selfies and emoji's are waaaay cuter than crying. Part of the newborn apgar score is measured by how strong a baby cries. Crying lets us know we are alive!
Dear Krista,
Next time someone is an asshole to you, maybe it's just because they are sad. And if that asshole is you, ask yourself, "am I sad and is there someway I can deal with this better? Can I talk about this in an honest way?" Be nice to yourself and grieve a little. You can even grieve over the loss of your bra size due to nursing two beautiful kids for a year each. Go ahead, let it out, then put on that push-up bra with pride!
xoxo,
Krista
Ecc 3:4
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
Lets cry and definitely laugh! Let's grieve over the stuff that sucks in life and then let's dance our buns off! His grace says we can do it all. Praise God.
(Disclaimer: I'm not talking about clinical depression. Just the occasional sadness due to life's circumstances)
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Morning Dove
If you have read my blog you know it was never in our plans to have a child and definitely not children plural. From birth until now there have been numerous different phases of adjusting and much unknown. Once you think your baby sleeps perfectly in the swaddle they begin to hate it. Their favorite puree is sweet potatoes then they suddenly start dry heaving at the smell of it. You can dress them in whatever you want but one day they wake up only wanting to wear one single color head to toe for the next year. The bath was the best part of the day and then it became the most hated and you end up soaked and everyone is exhausted. The kid use to love cuddling then they don't and then they do and then they don't. You get the point, right? Without a doubt I can say that I see how people lose themselves in their kids. Spending each day trying to figure out how to give boundaries, keep them safe, feed them, keep them somewhat clean, take them to appointments, decide on childcare, healthcare, preschool and teach them to wipe their own butts. All of this just in time to have another kid. The second one, still challenging but a little less mystery. Though less unknown in the day to day duties, now the new one has a different personality. One was quiet and quick on the ball but then next kid is loud and could give two sh*ts about potty training.
My threenager gives me attitude, love, sweetness, and pushes all the boundaries. She says adorable things all the time followed by the most logical argument on why she isn't worried about losing a privilege because she will find something different to do. Once I think I have her pegged on discipline, she shows me that particular method doesn't work anymore. Some nights I'm so dang tired of doing the bedtime routine so I skip one step (she won't notice I try to tell myself) and right when I think I have escaped the bedroom she sits up and reminds me of what we forgot to do. Some nights I am graced with patience and the sentiment that she won't be this young forever. Other nights I know Scott will do a way better job at being bedtime captain because if I were in there I would just jump ship or throw someone overboard. Thankfully, when I do lose my cool, she's the most forgiving person I've ever met. It's beautiful chaos living with a threenager.
I barely remember what it was like without children. It's was as lonely as it was free. I use to take selfies without guilt but now I throw a kid in the pic because my face alone just doesn't do the picture justice. I use to post only pics of Scott and I on our kidless adventures but now it's usually the four of us squeezing into the camera view and me still trying to look cute and show off my new haircut while I hold a baby that keeps pulling my hair and poking my eye. I can only daydream about the future of when the kids move out and Scott and I will travel around and be the cute old couple holding hands. Even when that day comes, I'm sure I'll be daydreaming about the day when our kids were little and went everywhere with us.
I'd be lying if I said that my kids were my life and that everything I do is for them. The reality is that I learn more about love, life, discipline, grace, anger, joy, forgiveness, fear, anxiety, laughter because of them. Right now, I'm learning more about myself than I think I ever could have without them. They are the reason that I'm not a workaholic, the reason I try to think positive about my body image, the reason I examine my motives more than ever, the reason I've tried to learn new things out of my comfort zone, the reason I embrace emotional craziness, the reason I accept a messy house, the reason I enjoy the quiet moments, the reason I fall in love with my husband when he does something sweet for them, the reason I can see the love my parents had for me by watching them with my girls, the reason I stop and smell the roses so they can know the sweet smell of a rose.
I think of it like this...
We don't need the birds to tell us to wake up in the morning, we have the sun for that. The birds are a sweet addition to the mornings that let us know there's a little more to life than just what we need. I am thankful to know the sweet song of a morning dove.
My threenager gives me attitude, love, sweetness, and pushes all the boundaries. She says adorable things all the time followed by the most logical argument on why she isn't worried about losing a privilege because she will find something different to do. Once I think I have her pegged on discipline, she shows me that particular method doesn't work anymore. Some nights I'm so dang tired of doing the bedtime routine so I skip one step (she won't notice I try to tell myself) and right when I think I have escaped the bedroom she sits up and reminds me of what we forgot to do. Some nights I am graced with patience and the sentiment that she won't be this young forever. Other nights I know Scott will do a way better job at being bedtime captain because if I were in there I would just jump ship or throw someone overboard. Thankfully, when I do lose my cool, she's the most forgiving person I've ever met. It's beautiful chaos living with a threenager.
I barely remember what it was like without children. It's was as lonely as it was free. I use to take selfies without guilt but now I throw a kid in the pic because my face alone just doesn't do the picture justice. I use to post only pics of Scott and I on our kidless adventures but now it's usually the four of us squeezing into the camera view and me still trying to look cute and show off my new haircut while I hold a baby that keeps pulling my hair and poking my eye. I can only daydream about the future of when the kids move out and Scott and I will travel around and be the cute old couple holding hands. Even when that day comes, I'm sure I'll be daydreaming about the day when our kids were little and went everywhere with us.
I'd be lying if I said that my kids were my life and that everything I do is for them. The reality is that I learn more about love, life, discipline, grace, anger, joy, forgiveness, fear, anxiety, laughter because of them. Right now, I'm learning more about myself than I think I ever could have without them. They are the reason that I'm not a workaholic, the reason I try to think positive about my body image, the reason I examine my motives more than ever, the reason I've tried to learn new things out of my comfort zone, the reason I embrace emotional craziness, the reason I accept a messy house, the reason I enjoy the quiet moments, the reason I fall in love with my husband when he does something sweet for them, the reason I can see the love my parents had for me by watching them with my girls, the reason I stop and smell the roses so they can know the sweet smell of a rose.
I think of it like this...
We don't need the birds to tell us to wake up in the morning, we have the sun for that. The birds are a sweet addition to the mornings that let us know there's a little more to life than just what we need. I am thankful to know the sweet song of a morning dove.
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Parenting and expectations
Never thinking about being a parent set me up for absolutely no expecations. To me, it's an advantage. I never wanted a girl or boy to represent all of my dreams of being a parent. I don't have dreams of my kids going to collage or playing sports. I don't even know if they will love Jesus in the same way I do. I can only hope that I can genuinely share the love that's in my heart and how it got there. Prayer is where I lay my hopes and dreams down and ask God to reveal His love to the two gifts in my life that I call Rhylan and Phoenix.
Here's my parenting style, not that anyone cares, but maybe someday I'll look back when the kids are grown and know that at least I tried to be a good mom. ;)
I constantly ask Rhylan how she feels about things. When she's being reserved around other people or "shy"as others like to label, I always ask her what she is thinking. The way these little people perceive things is very valid for them. Every time someone says, "you're fine, you're okay" when a child is crying, it's like they are shooing away feelings that probably need to be talked about. Like someone shoos away a fly, it doesn't solve the problem, the fly inevitably comes back. I guarantee that if more of our human population would get down to kid level and ask how they feel or what they are thinking, it would change the mental health of so many people. I'm not saying that there are not real mental health issues out there. My point is that everyone perceives situations differently. There are many different personalities, I know this because I have managed a company with employees for 11 years. I understand that my kids may not reflect any of my personality. They may have my quirks and Scott's facial expressions but they are their own fantastic person.
Back to my lack of curricular expectations for Rhylan and Phoenix. I expect them to show kindness, love, and generosity. I expect them to cry when their bodies hurt or their feelings hurt. I expect them to stand strong in their convictions. I expect them to get angry. I expect them to grieve. I expect them to understand that there is a process to life and rushing it can lead to less joy and missed opportunities. I expect them to fail and succeed. There are no expectations of them to reflect their mom and dad. Hopefully, we will be able to see where they are gifted. If it's in music, sports, praying, giving, book smarts, art, farming, traveling the world, research, hairstyling, or business owning, I pray every night that God shows us how to help them excel in that particular thing. Time will tell and I'm excited to see what talents they bring to the table!
Once, I was at a restaurant with my family when a fun gathering turned rough because Rhylan mistook her finger for a french fry. OMG! She bit her finger so hard that it bled. She was obviously hurt and no doubt had the right to cry. I took her to the bathroom to wash it off and bandaid it. While she was crying, I was telling her that I was sorry that happened to her and it's a bummer she was hurting. I wasn't being dramatic and neither was she. Her finger was bleeding because she bit it like a zombie rips through brains. (Sorry-not-sorry for the gore. Hehehe!) Anyways, this lady I don't know comes out of a bathroom stall and immediately starts saying to Rhylan, "you're okay, you're okay. Look at that picture! Isn't it pretty?" I looked at the woman and told her that it was okay that my daughter was upset because she bit her finger and it was bleeding. I wasn't egging on Rhylan's emotions, I was accepting them and helping her process that she was hurt but the pain would lessen soon. Since Rhylan was itty bitty, I taught her how to take deep breaths if she's worked up. This lady, though well-intentioned, wanted my daughter to be distracted by looking at a shiny object (the picture). There are plenty of shiny objects in life to be distracted by when we are in pain. As a parent, I don't want to see my babe cry in pain but I was using this as a lesson to show I care about Rhylan's pain and she can cry with me. We can do this pain stuff together. I care about her pain and I care about her joy. I want to experience all of it with her.
I don't have teenagers yet but I feel that if I don't let my little ones know that I will sit and cry with them now then how will they suddenly trust me in those dumb, crazy, hormonal years? How will they know that pain is real and that emotions happen but that there are healthy ways of moving through the aches of life instead of moving onto the next shiny object? Process is good.
It takes time to let kids cry and it can be stressful to look Rhylan in the eye when all I want to do is run out the door when she's throwing a tantrum. If I can help her learn how to process the severity of pain whether it physical or mental, I think she could be a great friend to someone someday that's going through the aches of life. Most of the time, humans want to know they are not alone and that their feelings are validated in someway.
Humans need to feel. Little humans need to feel.
Here's my parenting style, not that anyone cares, but maybe someday I'll look back when the kids are grown and know that at least I tried to be a good mom. ;)
I constantly ask Rhylan how she feels about things. When she's being reserved around other people or "shy"as others like to label, I always ask her what she is thinking. The way these little people perceive things is very valid for them. Every time someone says, "you're fine, you're okay" when a child is crying, it's like they are shooing away feelings that probably need to be talked about. Like someone shoos away a fly, it doesn't solve the problem, the fly inevitably comes back. I guarantee that if more of our human population would get down to kid level and ask how they feel or what they are thinking, it would change the mental health of so many people. I'm not saying that there are not real mental health issues out there. My point is that everyone perceives situations differently. There are many different personalities, I know this because I have managed a company with employees for 11 years. I understand that my kids may not reflect any of my personality. They may have my quirks and Scott's facial expressions but they are their own fantastic person.
Back to my lack of curricular expectations for Rhylan and Phoenix. I expect them to show kindness, love, and generosity. I expect them to cry when their bodies hurt or their feelings hurt. I expect them to stand strong in their convictions. I expect them to get angry. I expect them to grieve. I expect them to understand that there is a process to life and rushing it can lead to less joy and missed opportunities. I expect them to fail and succeed. There are no expectations of them to reflect their mom and dad. Hopefully, we will be able to see where they are gifted. If it's in music, sports, praying, giving, book smarts, art, farming, traveling the world, research, hairstyling, or business owning, I pray every night that God shows us how to help them excel in that particular thing. Time will tell and I'm excited to see what talents they bring to the table!
Once, I was at a restaurant with my family when a fun gathering turned rough because Rhylan mistook her finger for a french fry. OMG! She bit her finger so hard that it bled. She was obviously hurt and no doubt had the right to cry. I took her to the bathroom to wash it off and bandaid it. While she was crying, I was telling her that I was sorry that happened to her and it's a bummer she was hurting. I wasn't being dramatic and neither was she. Her finger was bleeding because she bit it like a zombie rips through brains. (Sorry-not-sorry for the gore. Hehehe!) Anyways, this lady I don't know comes out of a bathroom stall and immediately starts saying to Rhylan, "you're okay, you're okay. Look at that picture! Isn't it pretty?" I looked at the woman and told her that it was okay that my daughter was upset because she bit her finger and it was bleeding. I wasn't egging on Rhylan's emotions, I was accepting them and helping her process that she was hurt but the pain would lessen soon. Since Rhylan was itty bitty, I taught her how to take deep breaths if she's worked up. This lady, though well-intentioned, wanted my daughter to be distracted by looking at a shiny object (the picture). There are plenty of shiny objects in life to be distracted by when we are in pain. As a parent, I don't want to see my babe cry in pain but I was using this as a lesson to show I care about Rhylan's pain and she can cry with me. We can do this pain stuff together. I care about her pain and I care about her joy. I want to experience all of it with her.
I don't have teenagers yet but I feel that if I don't let my little ones know that I will sit and cry with them now then how will they suddenly trust me in those dumb, crazy, hormonal years? How will they know that pain is real and that emotions happen but that there are healthy ways of moving through the aches of life instead of moving onto the next shiny object? Process is good.
It takes time to let kids cry and it can be stressful to look Rhylan in the eye when all I want to do is run out the door when she's throwing a tantrum. If I can help her learn how to process the severity of pain whether it physical or mental, I think she could be a great friend to someone someday that's going through the aches of life. Most of the time, humans want to know they are not alone and that their feelings are validated in someway.
Humans need to feel. Little humans need to feel.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Crazy prego!
I didn't blog much with my second pregnancy and I think I need to catch up a little. It's true, life is a little busier with a kid. I wasn't nearly as hormonal crazy with this pregnancy but nonetheless, I was crazy. There were some good times of crazy I can share to give a good laugh to those who need one.
I'm not sure about anyone else but I get uncomfortably overheated the instant I'm pregnant. A furnace starts up in my body and it's not pretty. While I sleep, I sweat and drool. The drool. Come on, really, drool for days. One night in my first trimester, Scott and I decided to watch a movie so we sat down on our usual couches. I'm on the little one and he's on the big one. I was in a tank top and shorts in January and he was in what would be normal winter attire. Suddenly, the furnace in my body turns on and my skin starts to heat up. On top of the 400 degrees, I'm nauseated. Scott was just laying there, innocent, enjoying the movie and oblivious to the sudden attack that was coming at him. I couldn't help but look at him sitting over there with his fleece sweats on and envy his normal body temperature. The more I looked at him, the angrier I got. Believe me, I tried to fight the hormonal rage but it was too much. "Will you please go change?" I asked him with disgust. He looked at me with confusion all over his face and asked why. "That's disgusting! Why are you wearing those sweats and that shirt?" It was crazy talk and I knew it. It was what I call the "prego black out rages". I can see myself saying and doing things but I can't stop. I starred at him and asked again. He looked at me and told me he was chilly and didn't want to change. I was pissed. "Please go change! I'm so annoyed!" Reluctantly, he paused the movie, gave me the "you're crazy look" and walked to his closet. While he was in the other room I walked over to his couch and took off his pillows and made myself comfortable. He came back in a t-shirt and shorts hoping for the best. Not only did I make him change into cooler clothing but I grabbed his couch leaving him with a two-cushion couch. Inside, I knew it was not the right thing to do but my hormones said, "Just do it, you deserve the big couch and for him to suffer with you". Hormones are rude SOB's. They never say sorry either. I always have to do the apologizing for them. He finished the movie, I fell asleep half way through and I knew that he knew this was just the beginning of irrational behavior from his pregnant wife. He could've said no, he could've fought me on it but we both know after prego anger comes prego tears and after prego tears comes more tears. It's never a win for anyone involved.
"Every woman is crazy. It's just what degree of crazy can you handle?" --Krista
I'm not sure about anyone else but I get uncomfortably overheated the instant I'm pregnant. A furnace starts up in my body and it's not pretty. While I sleep, I sweat and drool. The drool. Come on, really, drool for days. One night in my first trimester, Scott and I decided to watch a movie so we sat down on our usual couches. I'm on the little one and he's on the big one. I was in a tank top and shorts in January and he was in what would be normal winter attire. Suddenly, the furnace in my body turns on and my skin starts to heat up. On top of the 400 degrees, I'm nauseated. Scott was just laying there, innocent, enjoying the movie and oblivious to the sudden attack that was coming at him. I couldn't help but look at him sitting over there with his fleece sweats on and envy his normal body temperature. The more I looked at him, the angrier I got. Believe me, I tried to fight the hormonal rage but it was too much. "Will you please go change?" I asked him with disgust. He looked at me with confusion all over his face and asked why. "That's disgusting! Why are you wearing those sweats and that shirt?" It was crazy talk and I knew it. It was what I call the "prego black out rages". I can see myself saying and doing things but I can't stop. I starred at him and asked again. He looked at me and told me he was chilly and didn't want to change. I was pissed. "Please go change! I'm so annoyed!" Reluctantly, he paused the movie, gave me the "you're crazy look" and walked to his closet. While he was in the other room I walked over to his couch and took off his pillows and made myself comfortable. He came back in a t-shirt and shorts hoping for the best. Not only did I make him change into cooler clothing but I grabbed his couch leaving him with a two-cushion couch. Inside, I knew it was not the right thing to do but my hormones said, "Just do it, you deserve the big couch and for him to suffer with you". Hormones are rude SOB's. They never say sorry either. I always have to do the apologizing for them. He finished the movie, I fell asleep half way through and I knew that he knew this was just the beginning of irrational behavior from his pregnant wife. He could've said no, he could've fought me on it but we both know after prego anger comes prego tears and after prego tears comes more tears. It's never a win for anyone involved.
"Every woman is crazy. It's just what degree of crazy can you handle?" --Krista
Broken by love
Rhylan asked me to tell her stories of when she was a baby. Sure, no problem. Laying next to her, moving my fingers through her hair I vividly remembered the day I became broken by a love I had never known before. I could see her baby face and her first smile and her tiny hands. I remember changing her clothes and suddenly her tiny pajamas were too small. With excitement, I showed her everything I knew. Scott showed her how to joke and play. She observed and soaked it all in. Suddenly, I knew nothing of an old life without a child. Suddenly, I was broken by love. There she was.
I'm broken.
I'm a broken mom.
They have broke me.
I love deeper.
I cry harder.
I weep knowing.
I know it's limited.
I know I can't sing to her forever.
I know this time will pass.
I weep.
I wail.
I am broken by love.
It's the innocence.
It's teaching her everything I know.
It's her teaching me.
The songs.
The laughter.
The firsts.
The lasts.
Good night my baby
Good night my baby girl
Good night my little girl
Good night...
I'm broken.
I'm a broken mom.
They have broke me.
I love deeper.
I cry harder.
I weep knowing.
I know it's limited.
I know I can't sing to her forever.
I know this time will pass.
I weep.
I wail.
I am broken by love.
It's the innocence.
It's teaching her everything I know.
It's her teaching me.
The songs.
The laughter.
The firsts.
The lasts.
Good night my baby
Good night my baby girl
Good night my little girl
Good night...
Friday, August 15, 2014
A new life brings new stuff
If you read my last pregnancy blogs three years ago, you know that pregnancy is a real "issue" for me. I'm up and down and all around with it. From beginning to end, I just never know what I'm feeling or thinking about it. I worked hard on other things through this pregnancy. There were a lot of changes in my business and already having one child distracted me from remembering I was pregnant some days. Scott was left to take care of Rhylan and me for many months while I worked and came home a hungry, hormonal mess. I tried to help with bath time and bed time but there were many nights I ended up short-fused and crying. One evening I put Rhylan in the bath and sat, uncomfortably, on the stool in front of her. She played and wanted all my attention. She decided she would toss a cup of water on me which made me more uncomfortable. I took a deep breath and did my best parenting job of telling her how I felt about that and gave her consequences if she were to choose to do that again. The stinker looked at me and did it once more. My eyes popped out of my head, I tightly put my lips together and felt my emotions set on fire. There was no more sanity inside of me to actually follow through with a consequence that didn't include screaming and turning into a dragon mother that breathed fire. Patience was non-existent at that point. I got up, left the room, and called Scott who was outside mowing. He only had about 15 minutes of mowing left but my shaky voice clued him in that tonight was not the night he could finish that job. Tears of frustration came out along with an explanation of my "emergency" situation. I told him about our turd of a child throwing water on me TWICE and that I was not able to handle the rest of the night. He came in and talked to Rhylan about her choice, had her apologize to me then took over the nighttime duties. I was in the bedroom crying, wondering why I couldn't pull myself together. How could I be a wife, a mom to two children, and business owner? Defeat is what I felt. Although, I had pep talk after pep talk from friends, husband, and family, I just couldn't seem to wrap my head around how weak I felt some days.
As I neared the end of my pregnancy, there was a feeling of fear and anxiety creeping in on me. Oh the confusion and words of discouragement in my head. Just some of the fears were labor, time off, sleepless nights, giving sufficient time to Scott, Rhylan, a new babe, a business AND myself. I saw the headlights of change coming as quickly and as bright as a train in the night. It was all coming and I had to adjust or else I would get run over.
Once again, I prioritized a new schedule. I worked on waking up a little earlier to get exercise in and journal/devotion time. Those changes alone helped me get out of my own head and leave some fears and thoughts on paper instead of haunting my busy brain. I looked at labor again and concluded that I needed to prepare my heart for it. I couldn't just go into labor thinking "I got this". Scott and I started to talk more about the new life that was going to join us and we prepared her room to welcome her. With Rhylan, it was all I could think about, and with this new babe, I had to make the choice to prioritize her. It may sound awful but life was different this time around. I'm thankful for the process and faithfulness that God graced us with over the last month.
The fear began to lift, the anxiety was driven out the door and joy was revealed in the little things. Sometimes there will be circumstances that naturally bring joy and sometimes you have to claim that joy and hold onto it, then reclaim it again and again. Claim the victory, shout out the fear, then wake up and do it all over again.
As I neared the end of my pregnancy, there was a feeling of fear and anxiety creeping in on me. Oh the confusion and words of discouragement in my head. Just some of the fears were labor, time off, sleepless nights, giving sufficient time to Scott, Rhylan, a new babe, a business AND myself. I saw the headlights of change coming as quickly and as bright as a train in the night. It was all coming and I had to adjust or else I would get run over.
Once again, I prioritized a new schedule. I worked on waking up a little earlier to get exercise in and journal/devotion time. Those changes alone helped me get out of my own head and leave some fears and thoughts on paper instead of haunting my busy brain. I looked at labor again and concluded that I needed to prepare my heart for it. I couldn't just go into labor thinking "I got this". Scott and I started to talk more about the new life that was going to join us and we prepared her room to welcome her. With Rhylan, it was all I could think about, and with this new babe, I had to make the choice to prioritize her. It may sound awful but life was different this time around. I'm thankful for the process and faithfulness that God graced us with over the last month.
The fear began to lift, the anxiety was driven out the door and joy was revealed in the little things. Sometimes there will be circumstances that naturally bring joy and sometimes you have to claim that joy and hold onto it, then reclaim it again and again. Claim the victory, shout out the fear, then wake up and do it all over again.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Team Wrage pep talk
I figured I blog best when I have a baby in my belly so here I go again. Here's a little bit of how 2014 has gone for me. I love sharing my heart with others and sometimes it makes sense and sometimes it's just ramblings.
We thought we would try to get pregnant at the beginning of 2013 but there were circumstances that made us realize that it wouldn't be wise timing. In May, we had a miscarriage and that rocked me like I never knew it could. It didn't make me want a child one way or the other, it just showed me a lot emotionally about myself that I didn't know. I mourned that loss and moved forward waiting for God to show me what was next. When I turned 30, I felt like it was time to get to know myself again and reunite my relationship with myself. After all, if you don't take time to invest your relationship with you, it's hard to fully invest in others. It became my mission to get to know my heart and my soul again. Scott and I were having some deep conversations about what we wanted for each other. It was strange to see how much we had changed in 8 years. We started to look back at our journey and see some items/baggage we had picked up along the way. Conforming to what we thought business owners should look like, conforming to what married with a child should look like, conforming to the marriages around us. I realized that I held resentment for his investment in friendships and tried to control that through guilt trips. Instead of supporting him and examining my heart, I tried to hinder his joy. I confessed this to him and asked for forgiveness. He confessed that he rebelled against my requests sometimes because he didn't want me to have control. See the vicious cycle that was occurring? Suddenly we were having really productive, natural dialogue again. I told him I wanted purple hair, he told me to do it. I shared that I needed to work out on a regular basis, he told me to do it. He told me he wanted to hang out with a friend and do pointless stuff (in my mind) and I told him to do it. Truly, we want the best for each other. When we first met over 8 years ago, I was an independent, very capable human. I started using him to hold myself back. "Scott, will you go get me this or do that? Scott, will you fix this?" I was requesting things of him that I was fully capable of doing but I believe that it was becoming co-dependent behavior. We talked about that issue and I worked on breaking little habits and began taking care of myself like I use to. Our relationship was beginning to repair. Neither one of us saw that it needed this healing but I thank God for breaking me down so we could be built back up. I don't want my friends' marriages, I don't want to look like everyone else, I don't want to raise my kids to fit a mold. I said it once before, I won't put all my eggs in Scott's basket, I put them in God's. Scott is a wonderful addition to my life and has a wonderful purpose in my journey and I in his. Same with Rhylan. I had a person ask me what I loved most about being a parent and this is the first thing that came to my mind, "I love watching the process of how humans learn. I love watching her grow and observe. I cannot underestimate her gifts and talents and I feel so blessed to be apart of her journey. I love that I can teach her how to do things and how to love. The human journey is one never to be taken for granted. It's a privilege to be apart of her life." I don't need her to need me to feel like a real mom. That is the privilege of raising a child, I have confidence of my purpose in her life. She is a sweet sweet song that will never leave my heart. It is my pleasure to see how God designed her and I will do my best to enable her to grow in a healthy, safe, loving, environment that focuses on continual growth.
Just when you think there's plenty of change going on and God can't possibly add more to your journey, He allows another traveler to our journey. Baby August 2014 has joined team Wrage!
We thought we would try to get pregnant at the beginning of 2013 but there were circumstances that made us realize that it wouldn't be wise timing. In May, we had a miscarriage and that rocked me like I never knew it could. It didn't make me want a child one way or the other, it just showed me a lot emotionally about myself that I didn't know. I mourned that loss and moved forward waiting for God to show me what was next. When I turned 30, I felt like it was time to get to know myself again and reunite my relationship with myself. After all, if you don't take time to invest your relationship with you, it's hard to fully invest in others. It became my mission to get to know my heart and my soul again. Scott and I were having some deep conversations about what we wanted for each other. It was strange to see how much we had changed in 8 years. We started to look back at our journey and see some items/baggage we had picked up along the way. Conforming to what we thought business owners should look like, conforming to what married with a child should look like, conforming to the marriages around us. I realized that I held resentment for his investment in friendships and tried to control that through guilt trips. Instead of supporting him and examining my heart, I tried to hinder his joy. I confessed this to him and asked for forgiveness. He confessed that he rebelled against my requests sometimes because he didn't want me to have control. See the vicious cycle that was occurring? Suddenly we were having really productive, natural dialogue again. I told him I wanted purple hair, he told me to do it. I shared that I needed to work out on a regular basis, he told me to do it. He told me he wanted to hang out with a friend and do pointless stuff (in my mind) and I told him to do it. Truly, we want the best for each other. When we first met over 8 years ago, I was an independent, very capable human. I started using him to hold myself back. "Scott, will you go get me this or do that? Scott, will you fix this?" I was requesting things of him that I was fully capable of doing but I believe that it was becoming co-dependent behavior. We talked about that issue and I worked on breaking little habits and began taking care of myself like I use to. Our relationship was beginning to repair. Neither one of us saw that it needed this healing but I thank God for breaking me down so we could be built back up. I don't want my friends' marriages, I don't want to look like everyone else, I don't want to raise my kids to fit a mold. I said it once before, I won't put all my eggs in Scott's basket, I put them in God's. Scott is a wonderful addition to my life and has a wonderful purpose in my journey and I in his. Same with Rhylan. I had a person ask me what I loved most about being a parent and this is the first thing that came to my mind, "I love watching the process of how humans learn. I love watching her grow and observe. I cannot underestimate her gifts and talents and I feel so blessed to be apart of her journey. I love that I can teach her how to do things and how to love. The human journey is one never to be taken for granted. It's a privilege to be apart of her life." I don't need her to need me to feel like a real mom. That is the privilege of raising a child, I have confidence of my purpose in her life. She is a sweet sweet song that will never leave my heart. It is my pleasure to see how God designed her and I will do my best to enable her to grow in a healthy, safe, loving, environment that focuses on continual growth.
Just when you think there's plenty of change going on and God can't possibly add more to your journey, He allows another traveler to our journey. Baby August 2014 has joined team Wrage!
Thursday, November 21, 2013
30 and I don't care who knows it.
Here I am, 30 years old. I have moments of embracing it and moments of terror. The embracing springs from being super blessed in my life. No true complaints. In my 20's I had a lot of development in my faith, relationships and career. Divorced, married, bought a house, started a business, had a baby, and moved probably 8 times. Quite honestly, it was a lot of work, so much work...sigh. I think somewhere in there I lost apart of my joy and personality. It's not that I don't think a lot of that was God's plan, it's just that I remember working very hard to be productive, do the right thing, dress the part, and learn to smile with my mouth. Anyone that knows me, knows that I have a tendency to look disgruntled even while happy. Being a business owner has it's demands for sure. Occasionally, I yearn to be an employee. Occasionally, I miss being able to leave work at work. Occasionally, I wish I had invested more in friendships. Occasionally, I wish I could be a better cook. Occasionally, I wish I could be a better housekeeper. Occasionally, I wonder what life would've been like if...(insert any random thought)
Back to being 30. It's just a number, it's just a moment in this beautiful life. Stumbling, fumbling through what God has for me, who He sees me as, is the big puzzle. Looking around, I see people having babies, women staying at home with their kids, clothing changing, hairstyles more subtle and did I mention, people having babies. For a second, I thought I wanted another baby. Then, I started focusing on my business and where it needed to be stabilized. Restructuring and systematically implementing all sorts of structure. My head swirls around this baby and what's normal thing. "Are you guys going to have another kid soon?" I don't know when to plan that! There are all sorts of reasons, each valid to the individual parent team, that they come up with for having their kids a certain amount of time apart. I've heard, "so they can be friends growing up", "so the older one can help with the younger one", "so they can be in high school together" and "because I don't want to wait too long after the other one is out of diapers", and "my siblings and I were all 2 years apart", or my favorite, "because I don't want them to be an only child". There are plenty more reasons that I can't recall. So, here I am, remembering that I didn't want a kid in the first place and now I'm all tore up about doing the "right" thing by having another kid. I'm weighing the pros and "cons" of having another baby. I've concluded that for now, I would have another child because everyone else is doing it. If a baby were to come into the picture, I would surely be full of joy for it, but for now, I'm content with my sweet Rhylan. I welcome and rejoice with all the other babies coming into this world. It's a blessing but just not going to happen for us right yet.
So, back to being 30. What's normal? Purple hair? Having a lip piercing? Isn't it time to knock that crap off? Time to look mature, grow up. Conform your style. People are lurking, judging, waiting for that lip ring to come out. I know most people accept my style but there are those ones that have a comment or two revealing their disapproval. I've ranged my style from punk to hippy to business woman to a mix of all of those at once. I like to change it up but where I really feel at home in my style is either a really tall pair of heels or my old school converse shoes. I look at other well dressed women my age-ish and think they look adorable. So off to target I go to try on what everyone else is wearing. Nothing fits right, I don't feel like "me". Not that clothes define us but I'm coming to grips with being okay with my "style". I can wear my purple-ish hair and wild leggings without feeling self-conscience. I'm 30 for goodness sakes! Who cares?!? I may have pink hair in a month. Why not?
I'm determined to laugh harder, love harder, and dance like I'm 20 (this time I don't care who's watching). I want to get my business structured and I'm going to work hard on that. In my free time, I want to invest in building new relationships. Building new relationships draws me closer to Jesus because he was the ultimate relationship master, he knew how to meet people where they're at and I desire that. I'm meeting me, right where I'm at...30 :)
Back to being 30. It's just a number, it's just a moment in this beautiful life. Stumbling, fumbling through what God has for me, who He sees me as, is the big puzzle. Looking around, I see people having babies, women staying at home with their kids, clothing changing, hairstyles more subtle and did I mention, people having babies. For a second, I thought I wanted another baby. Then, I started focusing on my business and where it needed to be stabilized. Restructuring and systematically implementing all sorts of structure. My head swirls around this baby and what's normal thing. "Are you guys going to have another kid soon?" I don't know when to plan that! There are all sorts of reasons, each valid to the individual parent team, that they come up with for having their kids a certain amount of time apart. I've heard, "so they can be friends growing up", "so the older one can help with the younger one", "so they can be in high school together" and "because I don't want to wait too long after the other one is out of diapers", and "my siblings and I were all 2 years apart", or my favorite, "because I don't want them to be an only child". There are plenty more reasons that I can't recall. So, here I am, remembering that I didn't want a kid in the first place and now I'm all tore up about doing the "right" thing by having another kid. I'm weighing the pros and "cons" of having another baby. I've concluded that for now, I would have another child because everyone else is doing it. If a baby were to come into the picture, I would surely be full of joy for it, but for now, I'm content with my sweet Rhylan. I welcome and rejoice with all the other babies coming into this world. It's a blessing but just not going to happen for us right yet.
So, back to being 30. What's normal? Purple hair? Having a lip piercing? Isn't it time to knock that crap off? Time to look mature, grow up. Conform your style. People are lurking, judging, waiting for that lip ring to come out. I know most people accept my style but there are those ones that have a comment or two revealing their disapproval. I've ranged my style from punk to hippy to business woman to a mix of all of those at once. I like to change it up but where I really feel at home in my style is either a really tall pair of heels or my old school converse shoes. I look at other well dressed women my age-ish and think they look adorable. So off to target I go to try on what everyone else is wearing. Nothing fits right, I don't feel like "me". Not that clothes define us but I'm coming to grips with being okay with my "style". I can wear my purple-ish hair and wild leggings without feeling self-conscience. I'm 30 for goodness sakes! Who cares?!? I may have pink hair in a month. Why not?
I'm determined to laugh harder, love harder, and dance like I'm 20 (this time I don't care who's watching). I want to get my business structured and I'm going to work hard on that. In my free time, I want to invest in building new relationships. Building new relationships draws me closer to Jesus because he was the ultimate relationship master, he knew how to meet people where they're at and I desire that. I'm meeting me, right where I'm at...30 :)
Sunday, June 2, 2013
An update
I definitely feel so blessed to have an outpouring of love and prayers since my last blog about my miscarriage. Grieving is such a weird process. Emotion is beautiful and God-given. Taking time to really be in touch with such a loss is very foreign to me. Last Saturday we went to a wedding and there were a few little babies around. I even held a strangers baby which is so strange for me to do. I didn't outright grab the baby but it was so adorable and tiny that it got passed from woman to woman and we all swooned over it's sweetness. In my heart was a slight ache, in my throat I gulped back emotion. Scott was chatting with family when I walked over and wrapped my arms around him and told him I was sad about losing our baby. He hugged me back and said some sweet words.
The next day during worship, I struggled with an ache in my heart. I would've been 8 weeks pregnant. Do I ignore the ache and convince myself that I will have a baby again someday? OR do I lean into the Holy Spirit and ask for comfort which means that I have to feel emotion. Sometimes I don't want to cry, sometimes I don't want people to know I'm a mess, and most of the time I convince myself I'll be alright. My journal is always with me at church so I sat down and wrote to myself. Journaling seems to be the only way I can really see my heart through all the convoluted ideas I believe to be true. I began putting pen to paper and out came my real feelings. Clearly, I was sad and I didn't need to hide this. It's valid, it's real, and it's worth putting out there.
Almost immediately after writing I felt relief. It amazes me every time I journal how quickly it helps me recover from anxiety, hidden emotion and fears. Journaling brings to life situations that I don't necessarily take time to deal with and helps me process the situation in a healthy way. It helps me take the steps to move forward and get out of my own head. Do you ever have a situation that you keep talking to yourself about and eventually it gets so blown out of proportion in your head that you literally become paralyzed? Those situations can almost always be healed with putting your thought life down on paper. My prayers and thoughts will be in dozens of journals when I die.
It's because I took five minutes to write out my heart's song that I had a lot of peace this week. I have been able to talk about the miscarriage without tears, not that I am "over" it, but because I asked God to heal my sadness. The healing began with first recognizing that I was sad and leaning into that true emotion and allowing grief to take it's process. I learned this week that you can literally grieve any loss. It's not just human loss, it can be loss of a childhood, loss of a relationship, loss of lifelong dreams, loss of a job, etc.
Take the time to get to know your heart's song because it will tell you if it's healthy or not. Write it down, have a good cry, a good laugh, please just feel something, acknowledge it, take care of yourself and the joy will come with the morning.
The next day during worship, I struggled with an ache in my heart. I would've been 8 weeks pregnant. Do I ignore the ache and convince myself that I will have a baby again someday? OR do I lean into the Holy Spirit and ask for comfort which means that I have to feel emotion. Sometimes I don't want to cry, sometimes I don't want people to know I'm a mess, and most of the time I convince myself I'll be alright. My journal is always with me at church so I sat down and wrote to myself. Journaling seems to be the only way I can really see my heart through all the convoluted ideas I believe to be true. I began putting pen to paper and out came my real feelings. Clearly, I was sad and I didn't need to hide this. It's valid, it's real, and it's worth putting out there.
Almost immediately after writing I felt relief. It amazes me every time I journal how quickly it helps me recover from anxiety, hidden emotion and fears. Journaling brings to life situations that I don't necessarily take time to deal with and helps me process the situation in a healthy way. It helps me take the steps to move forward and get out of my own head. Do you ever have a situation that you keep talking to yourself about and eventually it gets so blown out of proportion in your head that you literally become paralyzed? Those situations can almost always be healed with putting your thought life down on paper. My prayers and thoughts will be in dozens of journals when I die.
It's because I took five minutes to write out my heart's song that I had a lot of peace this week. I have been able to talk about the miscarriage without tears, not that I am "over" it, but because I asked God to heal my sadness. The healing began with first recognizing that I was sad and leaning into that true emotion and allowing grief to take it's process. I learned this week that you can literally grieve any loss. It's not just human loss, it can be loss of a childhood, loss of a relationship, loss of lifelong dreams, loss of a job, etc.
Take the time to get to know your heart's song because it will tell you if it's healthy or not. Write it down, have a good cry, a good laugh, please just feel something, acknowledge it, take care of yourself and the joy will come with the morning.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
A week to remember
For many reasons Mother's Day is becoming a very special day in my life. It recognizes my mom, myself as a mother, and helps me appreciate what a beautiful career life a mother has. I'm reveling in this moment. Sigh...life is good.
This Mother's Day marks another journey in my life. I'm saddened by this journey yet God has put His love out there for me to rest in. The week before last I found out I was pregnant. I was unexpectedly surprised and Scott, of course, was elated! I thought we were going to wait a little while until we had another baby but suddenly we had a new adventure. For about five days I settled into the idea that Rhylan would have a sibling and my attitude would be different this time. I knew what to expect for the most part and I was so relieved that I didn't feel scared. Scott and I looked at each other with smiles and I thanked God for whatever His plan was. All of it came back to me as I thought further down the road when we would hear the heartbeat, feel the baby move for the first time, watch my ankles swell, and I imagined Rhylan watching my belly grow. All within a few days my mind and heart were attached to new life growing and forming just the way God intended it, cell by cell and then a heart, fingers, toes, the way humans begin. It's a beautiful mystery, indeed.
The sad part started on Tuesday. A little blood, then a little cramping, then more blood. I could tell something wasn't right. I maintained my composure as I called the doctor and told them what was happening. I went in for blood tests for my hormone levels and they told me to come back in 48 hours to see if they had raised or dropped. Off to work and my heart was heavy for the unknown. Like any other day, I laughed with my clients and coworkers but was becoming more vulnerable as the night went on. Every time I talked to Scott he told me that it might be all okay and not to worry. He was comforting but I was still nervous. Wednesday came and I still bled through the day. I looked up all sorts of things about miscarriage on the internet and suddenly I felt God say "in the stillness, I am there." I stopped stalking the internet and trusted in His softly spoken words. I prayed and cried and prayed and cried. When I came home I played with Rhylan and rested in the "stillness." I thanked God for the miracle that she is and we went to bed.
Thursday morning I woke up knowing that I had to go to get blood tests again to find out if I had miscarried. I felt brave enough to take Rhylan with me and she was such a good girl while they took a vile of blood. I waited two hours then called the doctor. They informed me that my hormone levels had lowered significantly and it was no longer a viable pregnancy. God had prepared my heart for this moment. I called Scott and I heard the sadness in his voice which was comforting to know I wasn't alone in my pain. I called my mom and she was there in my sadness with me. This little bunch of forming cells had made a new home in my heart and now was leaving me little by little. Some may not call it a baby but I don't know how else it would have such an impact on my life if it were not the beginning of something great. The beginning of a great human being, how we all began. There are a lot of reasons that women miscarry but at this moment, it doesn't matter to me why, it is that it was the beginning of someone close to my heart.
Over the last few days I have cried so much that my vulnerability has caused me close myself up in my house. Scott has held me and comforted me more than I knew he could. My family and friends have sent so many prayers and so much love that at first I didn't know how to receive it. It's hard saying that I'm not okay when I've always tried to be the strong one. I was crying and praying, believing God had something to reveal through this. I don't believe He caused the miscarriage but I believe there was purpose behind it. As I sang in church today and thought about how many great hugs and prayers I was getting, purpose was revealed. God showed His love through other people. My dad had been calling me every day, my mom was giving me nurturing mommy hugs, Scott's mom was loving on me, my friends were sending their prayers and love and my Studio7 family responded with genuine love and concern. It was beautiful the way God's people came along side of me and gave their hearts. Simple words of comfort like, "I'm so sorry this happened to you" meant the world to me. Through this sad time, God gave me love and for the first time in a long while, I accepted my weakness and grieved the loss of the beginning of life and the idea of what was to come.
Thank you family, thank you friends. I will take this loss step by step and heal in God's timing. I'm soaking up the love as much as I love soaking up the hot sun.
To all my mom-friends and dad-friends out there that have experienced this...
God, I pray that you love us through this and that we can rest in your stillness even when the stillness feels to hard to handle. Even when we feel like we need control, I pray you speak your restful words into our hearts, minds, and souls. When we grieve, comfort us. When we cry until we feel dry, fill our hearts back up to overflowing. Through these moments of our human weakness, we are stronger in You. You are our purpose for going on, our blessings come from you and help us to see past the sorrow. Thank you for the emotions and taking us step by step through this trying time. I pray against fear of loss of future pregnancies. Give us contentment in your perfect plan. Help us to remember the beautiful life that was forming and that our babies will meet us in heaven again. Thank you for how you have formed us and continue to form us until the day we meet you. Until that day, thank you for who you are. Amen.
This Mother's Day marks another journey in my life. I'm saddened by this journey yet God has put His love out there for me to rest in. The week before last I found out I was pregnant. I was unexpectedly surprised and Scott, of course, was elated! I thought we were going to wait a little while until we had another baby but suddenly we had a new adventure. For about five days I settled into the idea that Rhylan would have a sibling and my attitude would be different this time. I knew what to expect for the most part and I was so relieved that I didn't feel scared. Scott and I looked at each other with smiles and I thanked God for whatever His plan was. All of it came back to me as I thought further down the road when we would hear the heartbeat, feel the baby move for the first time, watch my ankles swell, and I imagined Rhylan watching my belly grow. All within a few days my mind and heart were attached to new life growing and forming just the way God intended it, cell by cell and then a heart, fingers, toes, the way humans begin. It's a beautiful mystery, indeed.
The sad part started on Tuesday. A little blood, then a little cramping, then more blood. I could tell something wasn't right. I maintained my composure as I called the doctor and told them what was happening. I went in for blood tests for my hormone levels and they told me to come back in 48 hours to see if they had raised or dropped. Off to work and my heart was heavy for the unknown. Like any other day, I laughed with my clients and coworkers but was becoming more vulnerable as the night went on. Every time I talked to Scott he told me that it might be all okay and not to worry. He was comforting but I was still nervous. Wednesday came and I still bled through the day. I looked up all sorts of things about miscarriage on the internet and suddenly I felt God say "in the stillness, I am there." I stopped stalking the internet and trusted in His softly spoken words. I prayed and cried and prayed and cried. When I came home I played with Rhylan and rested in the "stillness." I thanked God for the miracle that she is and we went to bed.
Thursday morning I woke up knowing that I had to go to get blood tests again to find out if I had miscarried. I felt brave enough to take Rhylan with me and she was such a good girl while they took a vile of blood. I waited two hours then called the doctor. They informed me that my hormone levels had lowered significantly and it was no longer a viable pregnancy. God had prepared my heart for this moment. I called Scott and I heard the sadness in his voice which was comforting to know I wasn't alone in my pain. I called my mom and she was there in my sadness with me. This little bunch of forming cells had made a new home in my heart and now was leaving me little by little. Some may not call it a baby but I don't know how else it would have such an impact on my life if it were not the beginning of something great. The beginning of a great human being, how we all began. There are a lot of reasons that women miscarry but at this moment, it doesn't matter to me why, it is that it was the beginning of someone close to my heart.
Over the last few days I have cried so much that my vulnerability has caused me close myself up in my house. Scott has held me and comforted me more than I knew he could. My family and friends have sent so many prayers and so much love that at first I didn't know how to receive it. It's hard saying that I'm not okay when I've always tried to be the strong one. I was crying and praying, believing God had something to reveal through this. I don't believe He caused the miscarriage but I believe there was purpose behind it. As I sang in church today and thought about how many great hugs and prayers I was getting, purpose was revealed. God showed His love through other people. My dad had been calling me every day, my mom was giving me nurturing mommy hugs, Scott's mom was loving on me, my friends were sending their prayers and love and my Studio7 family responded with genuine love and concern. It was beautiful the way God's people came along side of me and gave their hearts. Simple words of comfort like, "I'm so sorry this happened to you" meant the world to me. Through this sad time, God gave me love and for the first time in a long while, I accepted my weakness and grieved the loss of the beginning of life and the idea of what was to come.
Thank you family, thank you friends. I will take this loss step by step and heal in God's timing. I'm soaking up the love as much as I love soaking up the hot sun.
To all my mom-friends and dad-friends out there that have experienced this...
God, I pray that you love us through this and that we can rest in your stillness even when the stillness feels to hard to handle. Even when we feel like we need control, I pray you speak your restful words into our hearts, minds, and souls. When we grieve, comfort us. When we cry until we feel dry, fill our hearts back up to overflowing. Through these moments of our human weakness, we are stronger in You. You are our purpose for going on, our blessings come from you and help us to see past the sorrow. Thank you for the emotions and taking us step by step through this trying time. I pray against fear of loss of future pregnancies. Give us contentment in your perfect plan. Help us to remember the beautiful life that was forming and that our babies will meet us in heaven again. Thank you for how you have formed us and continue to form us until the day we meet you. Until that day, thank you for who you are. Amen.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Baby Rhylan
Rhylan Jo
Life with "Baby Rhylan" is good
- She is 19 months old
- Talking as much as she can
- Shy when she wants to be
- Loves to hold mama's hand
- Went through a "no" phase that embarrassed and annoyed us
- She says "I lo lu" or as we say, "I love you"
- Fake laughing is her new "no"
- Eats like a sumo wrestler which explains why my "little baby" is wearing high-watered pants
- Goes to bed easy, wakes up like a wretch
- Falls asleep to "Jesus loves me" every night and sometimes at nap time
- Loves her grandparents soooo much and what happens there, stays there
- Fox and Fork tend to sound like another "f" word
- She rides in the car like a champ but getting her into her car seat is a real pain in my @ss
- I give her blowout hairstyles like the early 2000's Hilary Clinton
- I first wrap her up in her bath towel like it's a straight jacket so I can achieve the blowout
- She loves her stay at home dada and cries when he leaves but only whimpers when mama leaves
- Drawing and paintings of her own hang on her bedroom walls
- Shapes and numbers are her side hobby but she doesn't make a habit of them
- Naked is her favorite outfit since she has learned to undo her diaper
- Shoe love has been passed down into her DNA
- Bath time isn't her favorite past time
- Nemo is "mio" and she will request it 12 times per day
- IPTV is the Wrage's new favorite channel
- Mama insists that she should watch The Today Show from time to time
- She jumps
- She whines, whines, whines
- Timeout is a new past time
- We have to keep the house clean or she says, "it's mess!"
- Her mouth is full of tiny white teeth that she loves to brush or just put the toothbrush in her mouth
- She gets chocolate chips for going potty on the potty
- She happily eats a lot of healthy foods and I am the "crazy" mom that stops people from giving her junk food
- I missed her 18 month check up...bad parents!
- I laugh hysterically when she tries to put my bra on
- We laugh a lot with her and at her...
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Picture obsessed!!
Oh how time flies by. It's no different than any other year but we all keep saying how we can't believe another year has past. I guess it's because we have no physical way of stopping time so we take five billion pictures. We even go as far as to document what nail color we picked or even a hearty dinner. It seems ridiculous to most people why we would put all this information out there. I can see why it looks silly that we put pictures of our kids looking like kids but those are moments I want to freeze in time. I want to remember the first time she made that "crazy" face on command, the first time she put a party hat on, the first time she made a kissy face to her dada. Pictures have an amazing place in my life and I share about 1/1000th of the stock that I have on my computer and phone. When my mom pulls out the old photo album of when grandpa was alive, it takes me back to that day when I walked six blocks to his apartment, ate some candy and told him I wanted to marry him. Without those pictures he would be a faded face. Without pictures, Rhylan's first moments may be a fuzzy whirlwind. Because of pictures I can clearly look at her first four months of life like I'm right back there smiling, thinking I can't imagine her any bigger.
My dad, Sami, Josh, Krista. 1988 or 89
Who does Rhylan get that crazy open mouth face from???
November 2012
Scott doing his first swaddle August 2011
Rhylan's first day in the snow. December 2012
The old movies and the old pictures help us to know that it was real. There were fun times and there were hard times. I recently found a "great" picture of me that was snapped while I was in labor pushing out baby Rhylan. Wow! That was a memory I could forget! Just kidding...sort of :)
Every time I watch The Sound of Music or White Christmas I fall in love with the characters, clothing, dancing, lingo, and cinematography. It's romantic, dramatic and dreamy. That's why Instagram takes the stage in photo apps. People are in love with knowing there was a moment that made us so full of joy that we needed to make it history.
It's the past that helps us appreciate the present and it's the present that represents our future.
Happy 2013! I hope there are billion moments worthy of picture taking this year!
Sunday, October 28, 2012
My rant
Who believes in the future? Who believes that the future is the decisions that you make now? My mom asked me about voting and I just babbled on and on about no one taking personal responsibility for their own actions and finances. I rant only when I have recently seen my own faults. I was feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders and complaining about money, my relationship, taxes (dang taxes) and feeling like there was no path to a brighter future. My negativity wasn't coming from only the external, it was coming from poor choices I've made "in the moment", blaming others, and lack of time management. It was time for some internal weight to be taken off.
That extra weight of the world may be coming from your own decisions if...
- you are late paying rent but just bought the latest Halo game for XBOX
- your electricity nearly gets shut off every month but you just filled a cart full of non-essentials at Target
- you can't afford healthcare but you eat out every day, smoke a pack a day, and drink $40 worth of booze every weekend.
- you complain about not having money and then eat out every day
- you tell everyone and their dog about your problems but don't do anything to change them
- you would rather take vacations... then pay your mortgage
- you grab a coffee, scone, and leave a tip and then panic when you overdraft your bank account
- you complain about taxes but do you really know how much you pay in taxes compared to how much "good" marketing sucked you right into the IPHONE5, a case for it, a charger for home and your car, and a few apps?
- you talk about gas prices going up but haven't peddled a bike or walked a few blocks in years
- you say you have no time for anything but you update your facebook status, instagram, and twitter 12 times per day
- you say that you should reeeeally clean your car out but a rerun of the Kardashians is on
- you say that you never see your spouse but you're online 2 hours a day
- you say that counseling isn't for you but you tell all your friends all your issues
- you tell everyone that you just don't understand why your kid can't pull it together but you never let them learn or grow because you want to be a hero all day and clean up their messes for them
- you don't have time to volunteer to help others but you find yourself at Walmart in the clearance aisle for 30 minutes at a time plus the other 45 minutes where you add $50 more dollars worth of crap in your cart that you don't need
- you can't afford to eat healthy but you can afford beer and cigs
- you continue to buy the latest clothing styles, phones, toys, gadgets, etc for your kids but wonder why they don't respect you when you say no, or don't make time for you or the family. (You are teaching them to take you for granted)
- you are jealous of everyone else's stuff so you go buy your own stuff only to regret it, just like the person you were admiring did after they bought all their stuff
Honestly, I'm not on a high horse, I just hired a financial adviser to help us see the big picture of our future because I have chosen several of these options. I easily had several of these things on my list! I hated the way I felt about my future and I was getting so stuck in the problems of today that I forgot the hope of tomorrow.
I recently had a realization that my life is continuing to go at the same pace it always has. I KNOW, REVOLUTION! It's not slowing down! If I am going around in circles with my financial situation because I can't handle walking into Target or a mall without blowing my savings, then we have a problem. Yes, I do love to save but I also love shoes! I have to make a choice of buying shoes that will be out of style next year or invest in my long term future. Honestly, shoes win about half the time. I do love my husband but if I'm not daily or heck, even weekly investing in him then I'm not investing in my future with him. I talk to people of all ages and I have come to realize that we really don't change if we don't change. Age doesn't change a person, a person who takes the time to make a change is the only way that people change. Sometimes it takes almost losing a life to change and sometimes you lose your business, your house, your kids, your job, your car, your spouse, or your best friend.
Change isn't always about the right timing or a feeling, it's about investing in your future. If you have a vision for your child, then invest in your child, start a savings for them, teach them how to respect others and prepare for the future, teach them to contribute to society instead of only taking. Don't wait for the future to change you, you change your future. Think positively about it, write down goals, take your time to make time for important things. If you write your goals down, map it out, dream it, envision it, walk it, and live it. Ignore negativity and for goodness sake, stop saying YOLO (you only live once) while you blow your future dreams only to wake up and it's reality and you have to start over...AGAIN. Ask for help, get accountability for goal setting, make sacrifices. Do you really need the latest and greatest? Ask yourself where that need is coming from, do you want acceptance, do you think you aren't great enough as you are? Like yourself, and love yourself.
I know that voting does make a difference but don't get sucked into the negativity. Let's talk about the good stories, lets start at home with positive words and let it spread. Pay it forward by giving someone a compliment, make a lunch for someone, carpool, go for a walk with a new friend, make your significant other feel special, and take time to volunteer. Remember the "Golden Rule", do unto others as you would have them do to you. Take responsibility for your actions because that will make the world change.
And as that band Wilson-Phillip said in 1990 ... I just got that song stuck in your head, don't deny it, you're going to sing it all day :) You're welcome.
HOLD ON
I know this pain
Why do lock yourself up in these chains?
No one can change your life except for you
Don't ever let anyone step all over you
Just open your heart and your mind
Is it really fair to feel this way inside?
Chorus:
Some day somebody's gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don't you know?
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day
Things'll go your way
Hold on for one more day
You could sustain
Or are you comfortable with the pain?
You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness
You got yourself into your own mess
Lettin' your worries pass you by
Don't you think it's worth your time
To change your mind?
(chorus)
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/w/wilson+phillips/hold+on_20147057.html ]
I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and
Break free the chains
Yeah I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and you
Break free, break from the chains
Some day somebody's gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don't you know?
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day yeah
If you hold on
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day,
If you hold on
Can you hold on
Hold on baby
Won't you tell me now
Hold on for one more day 'cause
It's gonna go your way
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can't you change it this time
Make up your mind
Hold on
Hold on
Baby hold on
And as that band Wilson-Phillip said in 1990 ... I just got that song stuck in your head, don't deny it, you're going to sing it all day :) You're welcome.
HOLD ON
I know this pain
Why do lock yourself up in these chains?
No one can change your life except for you
Don't ever let anyone step all over you
Just open your heart and your mind
Is it really fair to feel this way inside?
Chorus:
Some day somebody's gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don't you know?
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day
Things'll go your way
Hold on for one more day
You could sustain
Or are you comfortable with the pain?
You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness
You got yourself into your own mess
Lettin' your worries pass you by
Don't you think it's worth your time
To change your mind?
(chorus)
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/w/wilson+phillips/hold+on_20147057.html ]
I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and
Break free the chains
Yeah I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and you
Break free, break from the chains
Some day somebody's gonna make you want to
Turn around and say goodbye
Until then baby are you going to let them
Hold you down and make you cry
Don't you know?
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day yeah
If you hold on
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day,
If you hold on
Can you hold on
Hold on baby
Won't you tell me now
Hold on for one more day 'cause
It's gonna go your way
Don't you know things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can't you change it this time
Make up your mind
Hold on
Hold on
Baby hold on
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Give it up
Giving did not come to me as a natural gift. It's something I've prayed about for years. I've always had this natural desire to keep and save. Save and keep. I would save my halloween candy for a year and only eat one piece at a time. What a strange thing for a child to do. I couldn't give up clothing, toys, old notebooks, or work books for anything. I hauled stuffed animals around with me for until I was 21 years old and I met my husband. He gave me a huge television box and told me to throw all the stuff I don't need into it. I gasped and felt a twist in my gut. What if throwing all that away made me forget what it was like when I was younger? He gave me a much smaller box and said, "choose carefully". What ended up happening was he went to work and then came home several hours later to me surrounded by a pile of nastalgia. I was reminiscing over toys and pictures and shoes. Oh, how I love shoes. Below, you'll see my love of shoes looks like a taiwanese shoe store at the night market. It's GLORIOUS! Hahaha!
I eventually threw out, gave away, consigned several things and felt lighter. I don't regret it, I don't look back and think about that thing I don't remember because I didn't need it if I don't remember it. Make sense? Anyways, I since have prayed about having a more generous heart with things, money, my talents, and time. I don't mean spreading myself thin but I mean having a heart for people and investing in human hearts. That of course, is what it's all about right? What's the point of living on this beautiful earth if you are only going to take take take. NOTHING. If we aren't investing in relationships, what are we investing in?
I knew when God told Scott and I to open a salon, that he meant not to make us rich in money but rich in community. He has led us in various ways to give and I'm so thankful God has transformed my heart from a scrooge to someone who loves to give. We are humbled all the time by His perfect plan.
I eventually threw out, gave away, consigned several things and felt lighter. I don't regret it, I don't look back and think about that thing I don't remember because I didn't need it if I don't remember it. Make sense? Anyways, I since have prayed about having a more generous heart with things, money, my talents, and time. I don't mean spreading myself thin but I mean having a heart for people and investing in human hearts. That of course, is what it's all about right? What's the point of living on this beautiful earth if you are only going to take take take. NOTHING. If we aren't investing in relationships, what are we investing in?
I knew when God told Scott and I to open a salon, that he meant not to make us rich in money but rich in community. He has led us in various ways to give and I'm so thankful God has transformed my heart from a scrooge to someone who loves to give. We are humbled all the time by His perfect plan.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Human shield
Every year there is life and death. Last year my baby was brought to life through some crazy miracle of a sperm meeting an egg, then I grew this person inside of me for quite some time, then I pushed this person out of my twa-twa (as my mom use to call it) and THEN i fed this person all the nutrition she could possibly need. WHOA! One whole year flew by and as I like to say, everything that's good goes fast except for the last 8 weeks of pregnancy. As I've watched the miracle of life, I have also experienced the fragility of life and relationships. As of maybe 7 years ago, I wasn't personally in touch with how life and death worked. My grandpa passed away in 2006 of old age. He was a fantastic grandpa with a sense of humor that he made work for him up until his last breath. I witnessed his death and it was life altering because I literally felt the presence of his spirit leave. I tear up thinking about him basking in the sun in our front yard with his shirt sleeves rolled up and his face tilted up towards the sun. I always knew, as a kid, that on any given day I would see him either in our yard or in the blue la-z-boy chair in the living room. Years have passed and there hasn't been a death that impacted me so much. Or at least that I let impact me.
Cancer...we're all f'ed. Isn't that how it feels when every week/month/year someone close to you or you work with is cursed with the word cancer. I remember I had a client who was 24 years old when he told me he had cancer. I was shocked because I was 24. Probably, much to his annoyance, I questioned him about his first symptoms, his diagnosis, his prognosis, his treatments and his emotions. He kept coming back to me for haircuts so somehow, I must have not chased him off with my naive questions. This young man was fortunate enough to see the cancer move on. That's what cancer does, even though not contagious, it just seems to move on and next thing you know, you're hearing the next person's story of cancer.
Our world doesn't have an outbreak of cancer but a deficiency of love. We are in a drought of love. I'm not talking about a feeling, I'm not talking about reality tv love, I'm talking about the real gritty love that God calls us to. The selfless love that spreads steady and with a foundation so firm it can not be ripped away from you. What was meant for evil, turns to good and turns to love.
Through this evil, I've seen families run together that were once parted by selfishness and hurt. I've seen the immense strength and determination to fight for somebody's life. Friends who forget to keep in touch suddenly step in and take action to act as a shield. People are literally using themselves as weapons against this damn cancer. Where there was no money, there's money to help with bills. Where there was no hope, there is suddenly a new sunny day. Where the prognosis was 6 months, the patient lives an extra two years. Where there is death, there is a people left behind praising God for the time they had together. Where a life had no meaning, damn it, people find meaning. Where people couldn't find time, they make new priorities. We are reduced down to what we are made from, LOVE. Some people get scared and run but most of the time you will observe a human fortress of love overcome the sick.
I sent this verse to a friend yesterday
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish it's work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. JAMES 1:2-4
Remember there is work being done in us that we can not see until it has been done.
My heart goes out to you that suffer and are sick. I cry because I know that I'm not immune to evil touching my life but I rejoice always because I know that I will have a human fortress putting up their shields and pointing their swords outward ready to slay evil. Thank God for the strength He gives us to battle for love. It's not always about life but it is always about LOVE.
Cancer...we're all f'ed. Isn't that how it feels when every week/month/year someone close to you or you work with is cursed with the word cancer. I remember I had a client who was 24 years old when he told me he had cancer. I was shocked because I was 24. Probably, much to his annoyance, I questioned him about his first symptoms, his diagnosis, his prognosis, his treatments and his emotions. He kept coming back to me for haircuts so somehow, I must have not chased him off with my naive questions. This young man was fortunate enough to see the cancer move on. That's what cancer does, even though not contagious, it just seems to move on and next thing you know, you're hearing the next person's story of cancer.
Our world doesn't have an outbreak of cancer but a deficiency of love. We are in a drought of love. I'm not talking about a feeling, I'm not talking about reality tv love, I'm talking about the real gritty love that God calls us to. The selfless love that spreads steady and with a foundation so firm it can not be ripped away from you. What was meant for evil, turns to good and turns to love.
Through this evil, I've seen families run together that were once parted by selfishness and hurt. I've seen the immense strength and determination to fight for somebody's life. Friends who forget to keep in touch suddenly step in and take action to act as a shield. People are literally using themselves as weapons against this damn cancer. Where there was no money, there's money to help with bills. Where there was no hope, there is suddenly a new sunny day. Where the prognosis was 6 months, the patient lives an extra two years. Where there is death, there is a people left behind praising God for the time they had together. Where a life had no meaning, damn it, people find meaning. Where people couldn't find time, they make new priorities. We are reduced down to what we are made from, LOVE. Some people get scared and run but most of the time you will observe a human fortress of love overcome the sick.
I sent this verse to a friend yesterday
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish it's work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. JAMES 1:2-4
Remember there is work being done in us that we can not see until it has been done.
My heart goes out to you that suffer and are sick. I cry because I know that I'm not immune to evil touching my life but I rejoice always because I know that I will have a human fortress putting up their shields and pointing their swords outward ready to slay evil. Thank God for the strength He gives us to battle for love. It's not always about life but it is always about LOVE.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Part 1 and Part two...what a day!
1st Part of the day:
Today started out with Rhylan being brought to me while I was in bed. She laid on my lap and said some words then laughed. It brought so much joy to the start of my day. After getting ready for work, I headed to the main floor just in time to hear Scott yell, "help! help!" I headed towards the voice. Scott and Rhylan were in the bathroom and he said, "Hurry, help me! I was taking her to the toilet to poop but she already started in her diaper and now it's all over her leg!" This was all said in a panicky voice and I couldn't help but laugh. Scott held her hands up and I wiped her legs. Suddenly, she was pooping again and it dropped out on the wipe I was holding so we threw her back on the toilet. She finished there and we started to clean her up again and there it was again! She was pooping some more! I couldn't catch it this time and it hit the bathroom rug. We were laughing and trying to contain the poop but it was impossible. She stepped in it first, then found a way to get her hands in it. I was trying to wipe her as she was pooping and smearing it everywhere. Scott's hands were poop smeared as well. I pulled her dress off of her and told Scott we needed to shower her because I wasn't hauling her poopy body upstairs. He told me I needed to do it but I refused as I pulled off his shorts and pushed him into the shower. He was reluctant to shower with our poopy baby but I didn't want her to leave a poop trail around our house. She stood in the shower with her naked dad as he used Axe body wash to clean her off. I wrapped her up in the towel and she smelled just like a teenage boy but I suppose that's much better than feces. Baths are a common event in our house these days. Who knew babies were so messy?
2nd Part of the day:
I was wrapping up at work tonight when Scott called with Rhylan fussing in the background. He told me to hurry home because there was a big bruise on her chest and a vein coming from it. I really didn't know what to think but I am not prone to panic so I didn't. When I came home, Scott was feeding her and she seemed a little out of sorts so I asked him to show me the bruise and vein. I then stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a rag and wiped it off. That's right, it was something sticky on her chest that attracted dirt that made a dark spot on her. I appreciate that he was concerned and started to google "bruised chest with vein on baby." If I hadn't arrived when I did I'm sure he would've ended up at the ER with her. He's such a good dad :) I'm just glad that we didn't get charged $1000 for cleaning our kid.
Today started out with Rhylan being brought to me while I was in bed. She laid on my lap and said some words then laughed. It brought so much joy to the start of my day. After getting ready for work, I headed to the main floor just in time to hear Scott yell, "help! help!" I headed towards the voice. Scott and Rhylan were in the bathroom and he said, "Hurry, help me! I was taking her to the toilet to poop but she already started in her diaper and now it's all over her leg!" This was all said in a panicky voice and I couldn't help but laugh. Scott held her hands up and I wiped her legs. Suddenly, she was pooping again and it dropped out on the wipe I was holding so we threw her back on the toilet. She finished there and we started to clean her up again and there it was again! She was pooping some more! I couldn't catch it this time and it hit the bathroom rug. We were laughing and trying to contain the poop but it was impossible. She stepped in it first, then found a way to get her hands in it. I was trying to wipe her as she was pooping and smearing it everywhere. Scott's hands were poop smeared as well. I pulled her dress off of her and told Scott we needed to shower her because I wasn't hauling her poopy body upstairs. He told me I needed to do it but I refused as I pulled off his shorts and pushed him into the shower. He was reluctant to shower with our poopy baby but I didn't want her to leave a poop trail around our house. She stood in the shower with her naked dad as he used Axe body wash to clean her off. I wrapped her up in the towel and she smelled just like a teenage boy but I suppose that's much better than feces. Baths are a common event in our house these days. Who knew babies were so messy?
2nd Part of the day:
I was wrapping up at work tonight when Scott called with Rhylan fussing in the background. He told me to hurry home because there was a big bruise on her chest and a vein coming from it. I really didn't know what to think but I am not prone to panic so I didn't. When I came home, Scott was feeding her and she seemed a little out of sorts so I asked him to show me the bruise and vein. I then stepped into the kitchen, grabbed a rag and wiped it off. That's right, it was something sticky on her chest that attracted dirt that made a dark spot on her. I appreciate that he was concerned and started to google "bruised chest with vein on baby." If I hadn't arrived when I did I'm sure he would've ended up at the ER with her. He's such a good dad :) I'm just glad that we didn't get charged $1000 for cleaning our kid.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
I may offend
Recently went to the aquatic center here in Ames and I was saddened. I'm not going to beat around the bush. The number of 8-17 year olds that I saw wearing string bikinis was appalling. I couldn't believe that these little girls who either didn't have any curves or were just developing were wearing hardly anything. It only made them look 5 years older...ONLY? I was super bummed out.
When I was 13, my mom allowed me to wear a two piece swimsuit but it was modest. No bikini for me at that age. I know that it looks cute to dress your daughter up in clothes that make her look like a little woman but let's be honest about who's looking at them. It would be peaches if the average age that someone was exposed to porn wasn't 11 years old. It would be awesome if the USA didn't have the highest rate of pornographic movies produced. It would be super if the average age of the viewing audience of porn wasn't men ages 35-48. It would be great if there weren't over 7 million people searching for teen porn every day. Wouldn't it be relieving if 34% of teen girls didn't feel pressured to send sexually suggestive content via text or social media to feel "sexy". It would be a wonderful world if there weren't over 100,000 girls 9-19 years old abducted and sold into sex trafficking.
Sadly, these are real statistics. Next time you think your 10 year old is just a 10 year old and it's cute to see her in a string bikini, think again. It's cute to you but to some, she looks like a 15 year old and is seen as a sexual person.
When I was 13, my mom allowed me to wear a two piece swimsuit but it was modest. No bikini for me at that age. I know that it looks cute to dress your daughter up in clothes that make her look like a little woman but let's be honest about who's looking at them. It would be peaches if the average age that someone was exposed to porn wasn't 11 years old. It would be awesome if the USA didn't have the highest rate of pornographic movies produced. It would be super if the average age of the viewing audience of porn wasn't men ages 35-48. It would be great if there weren't over 7 million people searching for teen porn every day. Wouldn't it be relieving if 34% of teen girls didn't feel pressured to send sexually suggestive content via text or social media to feel "sexy". It would be a wonderful world if there weren't over 100,000 girls 9-19 years old abducted and sold into sex trafficking.
Sadly, these are real statistics. Next time you think your 10 year old is just a 10 year old and it's cute to see her in a string bikini, think again. It's cute to you but to some, she looks like a 15 year old and is seen as a sexual person.
I'm not judging anyone but I do caution you to dress your daughter in more age appropriate clothing and watch out for what she puts on the internet. Here are some really cute, appropriate swimsuits. They're out there, but maybe just not at Target or other popular places. It's worth the time to look though. You're daughter is worth it.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Little Bitty
Rhylan Jo
10 months old
9 month check up: 16.12 lbs, 27 inches long
8 teeth
Can now fit into size 3 diapers
She eats like a champ:
All foods including June bugs
Stood on her own one day before she turned 9 months
Took 2 steps at 9 1/2 months
Walking shortly before 10 months old
Special skills:
Waving, clapping, holding toys in her mouth in movement (like a dog), can bump her head and get right back to work without crying, sign "all done" and "food", spit whatever is in her mouth into mommy's hand, crawl up stairs (since 7 months old), drink out of a sippy cup, says "whasthat?" and "whosthat?" (Now, I'm not sure if that's what she is really saying but it's said in context most of the time so we will go with it)
Weird skill mommy taught her:
Going potty on the potty. I read an article about starting potty training now because then it is a natural progression. I sit her on the toilet first thing in the morning and she tinkles then we say good job and diaper her back up. When I see the poop face, we immediately say potty and run her to the toilet where she does the job. She's only pooped in her diaper once since we started this routine. Every time we get home from a walk or running an errand I take her in to go potty. It's at least entertaining for me because she really does know when she is going potty and makes a cute face. Call me crazy, I don't care :)
New on the menu:
Her naughty streak. Everyday, it seems like she is getting herself in trouble and for fear of being the "no police" we try to find different ways to let her know what she is doing is wrong. She knows our tone and our look when we catch her doing something naughty. She even will turn around and beeline in a different direction. It's hard not to laugh but she watches so intently for our reactions that if we crack a smile she will do it again.
Nicknames:
Rhylan Josephine (dad), Little bitty (mom), smilin' Rhylan (grandma Patti), No buns (papa), Jo or teeny meany (Grandma Diane)
She's entertaining to say the least. I told Scott the other day that I have the biggest "crush" on my daughter. I think about her day and night and can't get enough of her! Her daddy is just as smitten :)
10 months old
9 month check up: 16.12 lbs, 27 inches long
8 teeth
Can now fit into size 3 diapers
She eats like a champ:
All foods including June bugs
Stood on her own one day before she turned 9 months
Took 2 steps at 9 1/2 months
Walking shortly before 10 months old
Special skills:
Waving, clapping, holding toys in her mouth in movement (like a dog), can bump her head and get right back to work without crying, sign "all done" and "food", spit whatever is in her mouth into mommy's hand, crawl up stairs (since 7 months old), drink out of a sippy cup, says "whasthat?" and "whosthat?" (Now, I'm not sure if that's what she is really saying but it's said in context most of the time so we will go with it)
Weird skill mommy taught her:
Going potty on the potty. I read an article about starting potty training now because then it is a natural progression. I sit her on the toilet first thing in the morning and she tinkles then we say good job and diaper her back up. When I see the poop face, we immediately say potty and run her to the toilet where she does the job. She's only pooped in her diaper once since we started this routine. Every time we get home from a walk or running an errand I take her in to go potty. It's at least entertaining for me because she really does know when she is going potty and makes a cute face. Call me crazy, I don't care :)
New on the menu:
Her naughty streak. Everyday, it seems like she is getting herself in trouble and for fear of being the "no police" we try to find different ways to let her know what she is doing is wrong. She knows our tone and our look when we catch her doing something naughty. She even will turn around and beeline in a different direction. It's hard not to laugh but she watches so intently for our reactions that if we crack a smile she will do it again.
Nicknames:
Rhylan Josephine (dad), Little bitty (mom), smilin' Rhylan (grandma Patti), No buns (papa), Jo or teeny meany (Grandma Diane)
She's entertaining to say the least. I told Scott the other day that I have the biggest "crush" on my daughter. I think about her day and night and can't get enough of her! Her daddy is just as smitten :)
Friday, May 25, 2012
Nurturing Nature
Rhylan had her first big cold last week. She was full of snot, coughing and she ran a slight tempurature. I felt so bad for the little baby girl as she tried to tell us how much her throat hurt. It was this tiny wraspy voice that cried for help. She clung to me day and night. In the middle of the night she cried out for us to come get her so I wandered into her room at 1:30am to pick her up. Her voice was nearly gone and every time she coughed she cried because it hurt. Immediately I felt her temp had raised. Obsessively Scott checked her temp every few minutes then called first nurse. It wasn't over 102 so they felt that it was okay for now. We held her until she fell asleep. A few hours later she woke us up again and managed to have a smile on her face. The temp went down as morning went by. We prayed that God would heal her little body and thanked Him for her.
All this sickness was new to me. I don't have a nurturing bone in my body on most occasions. Being the youngest child allowed me to be the one cared for plus I'm rarely sick. If I am, I sometimes call my mom and she immediately asks me how she can help. I usually reply I don't need help, I just needed to tell her. There's something about telling your mom that you're sick that makes you feel better. When Scott is sick, it takes everything in me to want to help him. I say "buck up, you're not dying, you have a cold." I know, it's pretty insensative but I know every woman that I talk to says that their husband can tend to be a BIT dramatic when they're sick. It's not like I don't care, I do, but I'm a problem solver. I try to prevent illness by not touching door handles, not sharing food, wiping my shopping cart off, and I use my feet, knees, elbows, and wrists to open or close things. For anyone who lived in the nineties, we call that behavior, "what about bob".
By nature, I am not nurturing. Nurturing is out of my nature. However you put it, I envy the ones in my life that are so sensitive to other people's feelings and wear their heart on their sleeve. I tend not to show much emotion on my face. I will tell you I am excited without a change of tone or lifted eyebrows. I will be sarcastic without putting a smiley face next to it and that's when I get in trouble. Back peddle, back peddle, back peddle. This can make me seem super serious and intimidating when I'm smiling on the inside. Generally, I think people are fantastic. There are times when Scott will ask what my problem is and it takes me totally by surprise.
I concentrate on smiling with my mouth and eyes. When I was pregnant, I cried enough for 10 pmsing women every day. As a non-prego, I don't cry very much because I feel like it doesn't get anything accomplished besides ruining my makeup and an ugly cry face. It doesn't bother me if other people cry though. Everyone is allowed their own expression of emotion. Mine just happens to be an internal dialogue then immediate problem solving with no expression on my face. Is that weird? I have been told it's kind of weird so I will continue work on my nurturing nature with my daughter, husband, family and employees. It's okay to cry and be overly happy and be angry all in the same day. We were made in God's image with all these emotions.
John 11:35 Jesus wept. How refreshing to know that.
All this sickness was new to me. I don't have a nurturing bone in my body on most occasions. Being the youngest child allowed me to be the one cared for plus I'm rarely sick. If I am, I sometimes call my mom and she immediately asks me how she can help. I usually reply I don't need help, I just needed to tell her. There's something about telling your mom that you're sick that makes you feel better. When Scott is sick, it takes everything in me to want to help him. I say "buck up, you're not dying, you have a cold." I know, it's pretty insensative but I know every woman that I talk to says that their husband can tend to be a BIT dramatic when they're sick. It's not like I don't care, I do, but I'm a problem solver. I try to prevent illness by not touching door handles, not sharing food, wiping my shopping cart off, and I use my feet, knees, elbows, and wrists to open or close things. For anyone who lived in the nineties, we call that behavior, "what about bob".
By nature, I am not nurturing. Nurturing is out of my nature. However you put it, I envy the ones in my life that are so sensitive to other people's feelings and wear their heart on their sleeve. I tend not to show much emotion on my face. I will tell you I am excited without a change of tone or lifted eyebrows. I will be sarcastic without putting a smiley face next to it and that's when I get in trouble. Back peddle, back peddle, back peddle. This can make me seem super serious and intimidating when I'm smiling on the inside. Generally, I think people are fantastic. There are times when Scott will ask what my problem is and it takes me totally by surprise.
I concentrate on smiling with my mouth and eyes. When I was pregnant, I cried enough for 10 pmsing women every day. As a non-prego, I don't cry very much because I feel like it doesn't get anything accomplished besides ruining my makeup and an ugly cry face. It doesn't bother me if other people cry though. Everyone is allowed their own expression of emotion. Mine just happens to be an internal dialogue then immediate problem solving with no expression on my face. Is that weird? I have been told it's kind of weird so I will continue work on my nurturing nature with my daughter, husband, family and employees. It's okay to cry and be overly happy and be angry all in the same day. We were made in God's image with all these emotions.
John 11:35 Jesus wept. How refreshing to know that.
When it all goes wrong
Recently there have been some major events in my life and other's lives that have prompted me to write again.
Last weekend I was suppose to do some training in Wisconsin. I have gone back and forth about quitting teaching for my color company. I got into being an educator because I knew that it would take my career to the next level. It was going to push my limits and take me out of a comfort zone. Now, I'm busy with a growing baby and a salon that is growing by the day. It's a daily stretch for me and for Scott.
As I was planning this trip to go teach I realize that I'm forgetting a lot of things. I didn't reserve my hotel room until 5 days before and I didn't get my teaching materials all together until two days before. My least favorite thing is feeling unorganized. My class was almost five hours away so I had to make sure my ducks were in line.
The plan was for my mom to join me in my travels but then Scott had to train on Monday so then that left me with no childcare for Rhylan. It was getting more and more confusing and I really just wanted to call the whole thing off. That was not an option though. Scott decided to see if he could train on Tuesday instead of Monday and that worked out. We decided to take Rhylan with us and make it a family thing. I knew Scott wasn't looking forward to the drive but I really wasn't prepared to go it alone.
Before we left we needed to do payroll at the salon. Long story short, we didn't leave as soon as we planned. I had mixed feelings as we headed out of town. I knew that Scott wasn't super excited about going so I told him to turn around and I will go by myself. He told me that it would be fine and we should keep going. I just wanted to quit, quit everything. You know when you just want to escape all responsibility and head for the hills? I never would but sometimes I forget I have the power of the Holy Spirit to comfort me and self-reliance becomes my "go-to".
My sighs become heavier and louder. Scott rarely sees me like this so he spoke up. He offered prayer first and it immediately softened my heart. We started talking but I didn't tell him how confused I was about how I was suppose to manage all these responsibilities. Scott can't let problems go, he can't see me hurting, so he takes action. He started giving me solutions and I felt instant relief. My heavy heart and bad attitude lifted.
Through all the mess and the discouragement God still shines. It's not always cut and dry, it's not always a smooth journey. There have been a few big moments in my life that God allows things to get stirred up so in the end, all I see is Him. In the midst of all my planning God speaks through it and what looks like chaos is actually controlled chaos. So, if I would've quit teaching, if Scott wouldn't have been able to go with me, if we wouldn't have been delayed at the salon, we wouldn't have talked through our situation. I would have given up. I'm not a quitter, I move on. In this case it wasn't the time to move on. It was time to learn my limits.
This has happened to me a few other times in life where I feel like the odds are against me and the weight is too heavy but guess what, it's not my weight. You know that saying, "God never gives you more than you can handle?" Well, it's true because I am still standing ;)
Last weekend I was suppose to do some training in Wisconsin. I have gone back and forth about quitting teaching for my color company. I got into being an educator because I knew that it would take my career to the next level. It was going to push my limits and take me out of a comfort zone. Now, I'm busy with a growing baby and a salon that is growing by the day. It's a daily stretch for me and for Scott.
As I was planning this trip to go teach I realize that I'm forgetting a lot of things. I didn't reserve my hotel room until 5 days before and I didn't get my teaching materials all together until two days before. My least favorite thing is feeling unorganized. My class was almost five hours away so I had to make sure my ducks were in line.
The plan was for my mom to join me in my travels but then Scott had to train on Monday so then that left me with no childcare for Rhylan. It was getting more and more confusing and I really just wanted to call the whole thing off. That was not an option though. Scott decided to see if he could train on Tuesday instead of Monday and that worked out. We decided to take Rhylan with us and make it a family thing. I knew Scott wasn't looking forward to the drive but I really wasn't prepared to go it alone.
Before we left we needed to do payroll at the salon. Long story short, we didn't leave as soon as we planned. I had mixed feelings as we headed out of town. I knew that Scott wasn't super excited about going so I told him to turn around and I will go by myself. He told me that it would be fine and we should keep going. I just wanted to quit, quit everything. You know when you just want to escape all responsibility and head for the hills? I never would but sometimes I forget I have the power of the Holy Spirit to comfort me and self-reliance becomes my "go-to".
My sighs become heavier and louder. Scott rarely sees me like this so he spoke up. He offered prayer first and it immediately softened my heart. We started talking but I didn't tell him how confused I was about how I was suppose to manage all these responsibilities. Scott can't let problems go, he can't see me hurting, so he takes action. He started giving me solutions and I felt instant relief. My heavy heart and bad attitude lifted.
Through all the mess and the discouragement God still shines. It's not always cut and dry, it's not always a smooth journey. There have been a few big moments in my life that God allows things to get stirred up so in the end, all I see is Him. In the midst of all my planning God speaks through it and what looks like chaos is actually controlled chaos. So, if I would've quit teaching, if Scott wouldn't have been able to go with me, if we wouldn't have been delayed at the salon, we wouldn't have talked through our situation. I would have given up. I'm not a quitter, I move on. In this case it wasn't the time to move on. It was time to learn my limits.
This has happened to me a few other times in life where I feel like the odds are against me and the weight is too heavy but guess what, it's not my weight. You know that saying, "God never gives you more than you can handle?" Well, it's true because I am still standing ;)
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