His Arms

Last Sunday, I had Blake in my arms, and it was time for his nap, so I just rocked him to sleep in the middle of the church service. I love those moments where I get to just hold him and watch him sleep so peacefully. He's at an age where sometimes when he's fussing for someone else, when he gets in my arms, he's content. Mom's arms mean comfort. Mom's arms mean everything is okay and safe. And while I wish that it didn't always have to be me because it makes me exhausted sometimes, there's something so beautiful in the fact that he trusts me and loves me that much. That I'm his person.

And that's when the revelation came. That's how God feels about me! He wants me to run to His arms for comfort and peace. He wants me to know that, in His arms, I am safe. It isn't a burden to Him that I ask for help because He loves to hold me! Being a mom is teaching me so much about the character of God.

I love watching Blake enjoy the toys that we give him. I love watching him explore the world around him. And I know God looks down and enjoys watching us appreciate the scenery and the people around us. He loves when we are thankful for the gifts He has given because, of course, He wants us to enjoy our gifts!

While I haven't carved out the time to read my bible very much since being a parent, I think I've learned so much more these past few months about God's role as Heavenly Father (and mother!) than I have my whole life. My dad never offered much affection or affirmation, so the idea of being God's child didn't strike me deeply before now. But now I realize in much deeper ways how much God loves me as His child.

In this world where so many children are the innocent victims of evil, I'm comforted in knowing that Blake is God's child too. I'm comforted in knowing that Blake is even more precious to God than he is to me (which is a concept I can't even begin to understand!). And while that doesn't mean that bad things will never happen, I know that God is watching over us and gives us power and protection over the schemes of the devil. But all of that is a much deeper topic that I won't get into right now.

Thank you, God, for the opportunity to become a mother and to know your heart in deeper ways! I understand much more deeply how you love and care for me as a precious child and how much you love and care for Blake, too!

blake's first beach trip

So I've been excited to take Blake to the beach since, I don't know... I was five months pregnant, maybe. I bought reusable swim diapers, a rash guard, and swim trunks. I browsed beach tents on amazon.com while nursing. But I didn't end up buying a beach tent because I figured an inflatable baby pool with a shade was cheaper and multi-functional.

I was waiting and waiting until it was close enough to our beach trip that I could look up the weather forecast, and much to my dismay, Monday and Tuesday (our days at the beach) called for rain. All day rain. I was so disappointed! It's kind of depressing to pack for a beach trip that you know you will end up in the motel room the whole time.

Monday was rainy, so we weren't in a rush to get there. We got there around 4 PM, and it was pouring rain. But during dinner, the rain stopped! So I told TJ we had to get out and enjoy the non-rain while we could. So we walked on the boardwalk for a little while, and then we even went on the beach and took a few photos.

Blake woke me up at 6:30 AM on Tuesday, which is way earlier than normal. I was not happy. But I saw sunshine! The weather forecast said it would start raining at 8 AM, so I got TJ up right away so we could go to the beach. We walked to the beach and put Blake's feet in the sand and in the water. It was such a sweet moment because I love the beach. He liked the sand, and he wasn't sure about the water at first because it was too cold. Once he got used to the temperature, he didn't hate it. After breakfast, it was STILL SUNNY so we headed back to the beach. I showed Blake how to jump the waves, and we took more pictures, of course. And it wiped him out! He ended up falling asleep in his baby pool/tent. For lunch, we met up with TJ's aunt and cousin, and we all went swimming in the pool because it was STILL SUNNY. Blake loved the pool. We bobbed him up and down, and he kicked like he wanted to swim. And then he got wiped out again. We never got even a drop of rain that day. I was so thankful!

On Wednesday, Blake woke me up early again, so we went to the beach, and then we got in the pool for a little. Then we drove down to Cape May for a whale watch. Blake didn't notice he was on a boat or anything, but he was fine. And luckily, TJ entertained him for a lot of the time so I could search for whales. We never saw any whales, but we saw dolphins, and I even saw a stingray.

We had a wonderful beach trip, and I'm so thankful for it. I couldn't have asked for more except for maybe one more day to spend there. I hope I can remember Blake's sweet expressions forever as he experienced the ocean for the first time!

the sin of ungratefulness

I once read that the first sin was one of ungratefulness. Adam and Eve disregarded everything that they were given, and they saw only that one thing that they were not given. I always read Genesis 3 and wonder how they could be so stupid to have messed up like that. If they were given every beautiful thing on the earth, and life was just wonderful and peaceful all the time, why couldn't they just be content, knowing that they have already been given more than enough? But if I really think about it, I guess I'm not content either.

This ungratefulness comes in the form of jealousy for me. It seeps into me like a poison, tainting my views of everything and everyone. It causes me to take for granted all the blessings that I have been given.

I'm jealous of women who seem to have no trouble at all losing their baby weight soon after having their babies. I walk around hating my body every single day. It's terribly depressing when you can't fit in any of your clothes, and it feels shameful not to have lost more weight after four months. But on the other hand, what a beautiful blessing to have grown and carried a baby inside of my body! What a beautiful blessing to be able to nourish my son every day with my body! What a beautiful blessing to be able to bounce, dance, change, and tickle my son every day! Maybe this body has a few extra pounds and stretch marks on it, but it sure is incredible what my body has done and continues to do! And hating my body and being jealous of others just tells God that what I've been given isn't enough.

I'm also very jealous having seen others get better attendance at their baby shower and more hospital visits from mutual friends than what I got at mine. I replay it over and over in my head, allowing myself to feel hurt and unloved over and over again. And maybe I am less loved by those people. But what about the people who did visit? What about the people who made us wonderful meals? What about the people who traveled quite far to come to my baby shower? It might not directly seem like ungratefulness, but if I focus only on the people who didn't show up, I ignore the people who did. And believe me, it's a lot more fun to think about the people who went out of their way to be supportive. My friend Allie came from near Philly for my baby shower during her difficult pregnancy. My friend Debby came from Harrisburg, leaving behind her own small baby. My friend Kayla made us three incredible meals after Blake was born to help out when I was really struggling! Wow, what a beautiful blessing to have friends who make loving me a priority in their life during those important times!

It's so easy when I'm tired and stressed to allow the enemy to invade my mind and make me feel like I don't have enough. It's the enemy who says, "Hey, those people didn't visit you when you had your baby! They must not love you!" But knowing that it's the enemy who tells me those stories lets me know that these stories don't have any truth in them. They are LIES!

God's truth says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. God's truth says I love you and gave my life for you. And those are the stories I need to be playing in my head. I can't tell you how much time I've spent lately arguing with TJ about how people don't love me and why I'm ugly. It has been a huge waste of my time (and TJ's) defending lies! And I don't want to do it anymore because I don't want to be ungrateful. I want to say, "Thank you, God!" rather than "Thank you, God, but I actually wanted this other stuff too." I want to allow God's truth to permeate every part of me and use my energy to praise Him rather than to be ungrateful for the many gifts He has given.

Time to Die

While this seems like a very morbid title for a blog entry, I assure you it isn't meant to be. The death I am referring to is the death required to all of us Christ followers--to lay down your life for the sake of others. We are, of course, commanded to lay down our life for all others, but it is most necessary to our spouses and to our children. I knew when I agreed to marry TJ that I was agreeing to put him above myself. It meant that sometimes I'm having a bad day, but I'm going to step it up because TJ is having a bad day, too. It means that sometimes I have to watch the show that he wants to watch. And God promises that I am BLESSED for sacrificing my desires for my husband's sake.

The good news is that dying to self in a marriage is a reciprocal relationship, where sometimes TJ will step it up for my sake. However, dying to self for your children does not tend to be directly reciprocal. It means that sometimes I am going to want time to myself, but Blake decides that nap time will be a little shorter today, so I don't get to read the chapter I wanted to read in my book. It means that when Blake needs me in the middle of the night, it doesn't matter how tired I am. Blake's needs will always come before mine (not that my needs are not important and do not need to be addressed). As a new mother, I'm learning how to address my needs in different ways. I'm adjusting. It means maybe I shower only every other day. It means that I wait to enjoy relaxing time until Blake is napping. It means that TJ and I schedule a date night maybe twice a month if we are lucky, and we cherish that time alone together. For these sacrifices as a mother, I am BLESSED!

Being called to be a wife and a mother are not easy jobs. I remember in college, my friends and I sat together and expressed what the one thing we wanted to do in our lives before we die was. For most of us, it was to get married and have a family. We saw marriage and children as our happy ending. I don't think we were thinking about the challenges of these roles at that time because we didn't know then what these roles require. But being a wife has made me a better woman. And being a mother is making me an even better woman. These are the roles I have been called to, and they aren't necessarily a "happy ending," but they are beautiful. Every day, I grow to be more Christ-like as I lay down my life for my husband and my son.

Perhaps my friends and I worded our biggest life goal incorrectly, for in order to have a good marriage and be a good mother, you have to die. These aren't the things that happen before we die; these are the things for which we die daily.

what it means to be honest

Several people have told me that they appreciate my honesty in my blog. Vulnerability has always been a quality of mine that I readily display because, well, I just have too many darn emotions to even try to hide them! But the willingness to be open and vulnerable takes a new form when it comes to being a momma. We all want to be perfect moms and do EVERYTHING right for our little ones. We worry we will permanently mess up our kids when, for example, they will only fall asleep while nursing. If we let it, anxiety can really tire us out, and seriously, as a parent, aren't we already tired enough?

At first I found it interesting that people would mention my honesty because why wouldn't people be open and honest about what their experiences are like and how they're dealing with them? But now that I see online forums and comments at the end of blog entries, I get it. Moms are hard on other moms. They're judgmental and critical. "OMG I can't believe that child still has a pacifier!" "OMG I can't believe that child is still in diapers!" And believe me, I'm guilty of doing this too (but at least it's only in my head). Why are we cutting each other down so much? We're all on the same team here, mom to mom. Don't we all have the goal of raising good and happy children? It's not easy to be open and honest about your experiences when you know that other moms are out there judging you.

Today I was looking at a blog that was about a mother bringing her young infant to the beach for the first time. The mother mentioned that she found it important to cover herself while breastfeeding on the beach. This launched a HUGE argument between readers who just had to comment with their opinion on breastfeeding in public. And it made me feel like I wanted to crawl in my shell with my own opinions and practices because I didn't want to be judged. And it's difficult knowing that when my son is hungry, and I decide to feed him in public, whether I wear a cover or not is going to be highly judged by every person who sees me. But what does anyone know about why I might not cover up? Blake gets overheated very easily, so covering him up makes him upset and fussy. So if I could find a way to stay modest enough and not wear a nursing cover, I would do it because otherwise, my child won't eat.

I'm definitely guilty of judging other moms on their decisions, but I'm trying not to be because I know we all (or at least most of us) are trying to do the best we can for our children in the best way that we know how. And I don't know the challenges that other moms are facing in these areas that lead to the parenting decisions they have made. If we didn't judge each other so much, maybe more people could feel comfortable being honest about their difficulties. It takes a huge load off your chest when you can say how you're feeling, but so many of us are just trying to keep it all together for the public. And who could blame them, when they're faced with a jury of peers who are all too ready to give their opinion.

Cutting another mom down by saying or writing a judgy comment is not what honesty looks like. People like to say something mean to others and then say, "Sorry. I'm just being honest." Honesty is being able to openly share your experiences without undermining another person's experiences. And if more of us moms could feel free to be honest about our experiences, maybe we wouldn't feel so pressured to get everything right because we would realize that not even one of us is getting everything right.

12 weeks? WHAAAT?!

First off, Blake is 12 weeks old today. I can hardly believe it! He's growing at a good rate and has stayed pretty average for his age in weight, so I'm thankful for that. We are having a few issues lately, for which I am in troubleshooting mode. First, he refuses to take a bottle. This makes babysitting very difficult because I stress when I'm away from him, knowing he won't eat. The other issue is that he's not adjusted well, so far, to living at my dad's house. He pretty much constantly wants to be held, and he won't stay asleep in his crib. So since TJ and I need to sleep, we put him in our bed. I don't love this option, though it does make nighttime feedings easier. Plus he still tends to prefer 11pm for bedtime, I am hoping and praying to resolve these issues soon because I'm exhausted! Other than that, though, he's a good baby. He loves people. He laughs now, which is AMAZING! The volunteers at the nursery at church rave about him. Apparently, he's a big deal.

So remember the woman who was certain she had postpartum depression who was so mad that this tiny, fussy alien was taking her away from her husband? Well, she had to take a pregnancy test a month ago because she didn't get a period, though she figured it was because of breastfeeding. She was disappointed when the test came out negative. I know, I don't get it either. Who wants to be pregnant again with a three month old?! (Two month old at the time, actually!) Apparently me. Sensible me knows better though. We had to save up a lot of money for my pregnancy last year, plus we can't have two babies at my dad's house! I know sensible me and TJ will win this argument, but impulsive me is ready for #2!! And yet I wonder if I could ever share my love with another child because Blake is kind of my whole world right now.



Remember the woman who said maybe breast isn't best for me? I was so wrong! I mean, it would have been fine to stick with formula, but I'm so thankful I was able to get him back to breastfeeding after such early bottle feeding! The fact that my body provides the food for my son is such a beautiful, holy experience for me. It's also a very heavy calling. I feel such a weight on me when he doesn't eat. A few weekends ago, we walked the MS Walk, but it was not great timing for Blake's schedule, so he didn't get to eat beforehand. He was napping, so it didn't really matter, but I knew he shouldn't nap that whole walk, but when he woke up, he would be hungry. So when we had the choice of the short walk or the long one, I asked for the short one for Blake's sake, but the group wanted to do the long one. It was a mile and a half longer, which probably took half an hour. Everyone said Blake was sleeping, so he was fine. But I knew better. Anyway, Blake woke up as we finished our walk, having slept too long and gone too long without eating, He was hysterical, and I felt so emotional like I had starved my child. It broke my heart. NOW I know to advocate better for Blake. I ended up feeding him in the car then after the race. It was a good reminder that day that Blake has to come first in my life. And while that comes pretty easily for me, it doesn't for others, especially when they don't know Blake's needs like I do. As his mom, I know his needs better than anyone, so I just need to let others know and stick to it, even if it means me making a sacrifice and/or looking like a party pooper.

writing a good story: part 1

For the last few weeks, I've really been wanting to exercise. But finding the time to do so is very difficult, especially because right now we are a week away from moving! I've been feeling like I don't do anything for me, and my entire life is consumed by taking care of Blake. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom more than anything, but I know that I need some time for me. So today, my mom came over and babysat Blake while I went for a run outside. It was a short run, but I'm very proud of myself for lasting through it. And it was so rejuvenating to get some time by myself doing something that I enjoy. AND I'm hoping to get rid of some of this excess fat, so it feels good to actually do something about that!

Before Blake was born, I dreamed big dreams of running a half marathon in September. I thought to myself, if I can give birth, I can do anything! Well, as it turns out, I didn't technically give birth, so that makes me wonder if I really can do anything. And then there's that darned aspect of being busy all the time. But you see, this isn't about being a long distance runner or losing fat or anything. This is about writing a good story with my life.

Living my life passionately by, for example, striving for goals like half marathons, is what will show Blake what life is about. He will learn what it means to live a good story from observing me. Watching me live life passionately will give him the desire to find what he loves and to go out and do it!

One of my favorite poets, Rumi, says "Let the beauty you love be what you do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground." And what I hear in that is that living your life passionately is worship to God! Of course, Rumi wasn't a Christian, so I'm just taking my own interpretation there. But my point is that it's so important to me that I keep doing the things I have always enjoyed, like running and singing, because I want to show Blake how to live a full life. Believe me, I love to sit and watch TV, but I want Blake to have a childhood full of adventures and fun rather than lots of memories of funny commercials and good TV shows.

Lately, I'm very inspired by people I know who have changed their lives completely by choosing to exercise and eat right. THIS is what tells me that I can do anything, since they have proven that they can. So do I still have a goal of running a half marathon in September? I just might! So who's going to babysit in September for me while I run a race? ;-)