Friday, August 23, 2013


Saturday was my mom's birthday.  I woke up and cried.  Missed her terribly with that ache in your soul that comes straight from your gut.  I was grateful to be with family...with others that had that same ache in their soul.  It was awesome to look back on posts from her last birthday.  While it was spent in a hospital room, it was filled with so much love and grace.  It was good to remember, pray, and cry.

Wednesdays have been hard for me lately.  I typically work Wednesday nights, and the night shift is kicking my butt.  More so, my child is kicking my butt with his inconsistency in napping, especially on Wednesdays. It's like he has this super sense and knows that I really need to sleep, therefore he really doesn't.  So after struggling for an hour and a half to get him to go to sleep, he finally fell asleep in my arms with bottle number 3 (yes I was desperate, and no this isn't normal.  Normally my kiddo goes to sleep wide awake in his crib all by himself.  It was a really bad day.)  Prior to finally getting him down, I lost it.  Put him in his crib and let him cry as I made a run for my front porch with multiple doors closed between us.  I couldn't do it anymore.  I didn't know how to love him, or even tolerate him in that moment.  And I desperately wanted to call my mom and ask her what I should do.  Not that she has magic answers, its just in those moments of desperation and wanting to kill your child, mothers are the first people you want to call.  And I couldn't. So I sat on my front porch and prayed and cried.  Then when I finally had enough where with all to go back to my screaming child, he finally fell asleep and I cried again.  Apparently I don't run out of tears.

Grayson's tears used to hold so much validity.  He only cried when something was really wrong.  In the last two weeks we have jumped on the drama bus and Grayson now cries at the drop of a hat and sounds like you have just severed an appendage.  We were out at an Italian restaurant and I was letting him eat some bread.  I took away the soggy nasty piece to replace it, and he shook his fists and screamed in agony...for about 10 seconds until the new piece was in his grubby little fingers...and then he laughed.  2 second rebound rate.  This kiddo needs some language skills so that screeching is not his only method of communication. You like bread.  Mommy got the message.

Yesterday I cried because I tried to make a last minute appointment to get a massage or pedicure or facial...or anything with my gift certificate, and they are all booked.  I should probably go pee on a stick because all this crying is getting a wee bit ridiculous.

Today I am doing better.  No tears thus far...even when my little bugger learned how to climb the stairs.  So here's to hoping for a day with more joy and a little less sadness.

After my rough day with G baby.  This is what he blessed me with the next morning.

Shameless selfie to capture the moment.  Those baby snuggles are redemptive and I savor them.

Saturday, August 10, 2013


I apologize for my absence.  I am learning that if I want to continue to write, I will have to look at it more as a discipline or a practice, rather than something that will naturally just happen.  I enjoy it.  I love it.  But rarely do I sit down to do it.  I see the value that it adds to my life and how it helps me see little things throughout the day.  So I hope to start writing at least once a week, regardless of circumstances, because in the end I never regret it.  It's kind of like going to the gym.  I should start to practice that disciple as well.  My hips would agree.

Life has been quite the journey lately.  My mobile little munchkin keeps me on my toes.  He is developing such personality, and I am loving it.  

I am learning at a much deeper level that marriage takes work and intention.  These are good and necessary learns, but it is hard to be humbled.  Why my naive self would think that Jon and I are any different than any other married couple is beyond me. I know it is ridiculous to have thought we were above the struggles that lead many to divorce.  So I am grateful that we are working on us now.  I am grateful that love is messy, and that messes can be cleaned up.  

My biggest learn is how impossible it is to love Jon exactly where he is at, when I barely love myself. ( I am pretty sure I oscillate between hatred for myself and thinking that I am all that and a bag of chips... just keeping it real.)  Many of the hardships we face are just symptoms of the deeper truths.  The obvious symptoms just scratch the surface, and it is the shame, guilt, lies, and fears that lie deep below that need to be addressed and processed through.  

So last night we sat on the couch and told the truth.  And I wanted to throw up as I cried. There is immense power and freedom in the truth.  He told me that he didn't like my wedding dress and the amount of guilt that he had about feeling that way.  And I am grateful that now, that after almost five years of marriage, I am OK with that.  I loved my wedding dress.  I loved that it was hand made.  I loved that the lace was from England.  I loved that only my mom saw me in it prior to my wedding day.  And I felt beautiful.  I was beautiful.  And it is OK that Jon didn't love it, because I know that he loved the girl who was inside of it.  It is OK for us to like different things, and I am glad I am at the point where that was not devastating news.   We have grown and we have changed.  

Many more things were shared in that sacred space and the level of trust and intimacy that followed astounded me.  When there is no second guessing, no thoughts in the back of your head that you wonder if they are true, you are able to truly dive into the mess that is love.  The humbling hurts, but I am grateful that I didn't marry someone perfect, because I am far from it.  And it is in the conversations and the truth telling that I see that imperfection and forgiveness is far more beautiful.  

In case you were wondering, I don't have it all together.  I barely have a fraction of "it" all together...because I am human.  

So instead of running in the perfection race, I am learning to be more messy, and I am pretty sure that it is ten times more attractive and genuine than my put-together face.

In my mess I am learning to embrace the fact that my sister is leaving in January.  In January, Aly is travelling with TheWorldRace to 11 countries in 11 months.  In January my sister follows her dreams and her God outside of her comfort zone.  I am so excited for her and I also want to tie her up in my basement and keep her all to myself.  This is the opportunity of a lifetime for her, but man am I going to miss my sister.  I added her blog to my side bar where she will be keeping everyone updated now and throughout her trip.  She is trying to raise support to pay for a portion of her trip, and it would mean the world to her if your would support her financially and/or in prayer.  I have no doubt that God will use her to impact lives.  I have no doubt that God will allow her to touch others that are hurting in the same way that so many came alongside and touched our lives as we felt the deepest hurt we have known.  I am so excited to support her in her journey, even if it is on the other side of the ocean for a year.  

While I am not really sure who reads this, thank you for sharing a piece of your journey with me.  Thank you for any and all connection as I walk through life.  Thank you for your love and care.  

Here are some pictures of my sweet babe at 9 months.  I could seriously eat him for dessert.  He is delicious.