Amazing Moms

Last week, I came across a blogger who has had to deal with so much more than most mom bloggers, I'd say.  She's an inspiration because of her unwavering faith and trust in God during a time that most of us might even doubt his existence.  Her love for her children and family shines thru in every post, and you should go check out her blog here.

Then, today, a friend shared another lovely lady's blog.  Just read about her on her bio page and you'll be amazed...read THIS STORY and your heart will melt; more love and strength pouring out.  

And...her kids are hilarious.  Read this if you don't believe me ;).

Yes!

YES yes yes!!!  I'm so dang excited, I could hardly shut up last night and fall asleep because I kept talking to Jose about what we were researching all day... online graduate degree programs!!!!  I can't wait to be a student again!!!
My heart is about to burst from the excitement.  Let me begin by saying that in undergrad, I changed my major 5 times.  Yes, FIVE!  I feel like I didn't quite fit anywhere.  I wanted to be an elementary school teacher, but I also loved to write.  So I did English and minored in Applied Learning and Development, and figured I could become a teacher later.  
Then... I had kids.  That was not a setback or an inferior choice.  In fact, I'm glad I had them because I don't think I would've really figured things out without them.  After having Mirabel, I tossed around the idea of going on to study child development a bit more.  Maybe become a school counselor.  I really loved all of my child development classes/labs.  I've also wanted to open up a bakery, a gluten-free one.  But at the end of the day, I wouldn't feel right just baking cakes and cookies all day.  Yes, baking desserts for people can make the world a happier place, temporarily... still wasn't feeling it all the way, though.  And, hey, I may do it later on in life, but...
HB2 happened.  Not only that, but I've always been very passionate about many of the issues behind it.  In middle school/high school, I would visit care pregnancy centers with my mom, sometimes we'd volunteer.  I've wanted to counsel there for years.  In college, I looked into becoming a counselor there...but then other things came up.  The desire to help has always been there, and lately that desire has become more of an, "I need to do this, no excuses!" type of thing.  After HB2, I knew I couldn't make anymore excuses.
There are going to be a lot more babies born into a variety of difficult circumstances.  My favorite quote comes to mind,  "It is easier to build strong children than repair broken men" (Frederick Douglas).  What else comes to mind?  So many other horrific events that have happened lately, all related to the break down of family and insecure parental attachments, maybe not in obvious ways but definitely related.  From the heartbroken mothers on "I'm Having Their Baby," who can't keep their babies because they have no familial support system, and who find themselves struggling because their own parental relationships were likely not where they should be... to boys brainwashed by terrorism, whose mothers are not who they should be, or where she should be.  (I read that Rolling Stone article, and it has break down of family written all over it, definitely among other things.)  
All of this, yes all of it, coupled with the convictions stirred up after reading the book I mentioned in my last post... Not to mention, a study that Jose discussed with me that was brought up in a different book he is reading.  It's a study that mentions how children can grow up psychologically stable in spite of difficult extenuating circumstances if the attachments with their mothers are secure (a mothers role is so much more important that society thinks!).
And I won't get over the fact that I have been blessed and spared myself--can't ignore the motivating force behind a personal testimony.    
Have you ever felt like everything was pointing you in a certain direction?  Or I should say that God was just showing you so many things, all related to the one thing you just can't ignore anymore?  That's how I feel right now.  And I'm not scared anymore, that's how I know it's the right thing to do.There will be Math (ahhh, yikes!  My brain was not made for it).  There will be tears; late nights; tests.  There will be situations that I cannot improve--all of these situations I will have to leave in God's hands.  I will say, though, he has made a way and will make a way.  
We've done research over the weekend, and I think we've found the right program.  To sum up future plans, basically I will get my MA in Marriage and Family therapy, then I will find a way to get an internship that specializes in child-parent psychotherapy (CPP).  I will be doing this over the course of the next four years (because I will be going at a snail's pace, still taking care of my kiddos ;)... and one day, I hope to do a few other things, but for now I'm just embarking on the first step of this adventure by enrolling in a statistics class. (Please keep me in your prayers!!!  Thankfully my hubby is a math wiz, so I've got a great tutor that I can pay in cookies. ;)  (I know stats may not be a big deal to some, but, seriously, if you know me...you KNOW this is a big step for a math weenie like me. ;)

"I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always..."

 Mirabel outside of Savenor's in Cambridge, MA.  May 2011.  And that's Julia Child's writing in the pavement!

This past weekend was a rainy one.  Very refreshing for July.  I can't remember the last time it rained in July, in Austin.  We stayed home on Sunday and spent naptime organizing photos.  I think we have more than 21K now (I've got a great camera on my phone that I love to use!).  
Looking at photos is bittersweet.  Jose used to insist that it was impossible to enjoy a moment if I was hiding behind a camera the whole time.  But now that our kids are growing up (well, Mirabel is 3 and time's flying by to me), he doesn't complain much about it anymore ;).  I don't want to forget these moments.  I've already forgotten how squishy Mirabel's rolly legs used to feel like.  I'm glad I at least have those pictures.  One thing I can't forget: How tough it was being a mom the first time around.
I remember waiting for the day she could walk, somehow thinking it would get easier (Ha! Amateur!).  But Mirabel didn't walk, she ran...and she didn't stop, until she was almost 3.  I savor these last few pre-walking days with Juliette, even though she is quite squirmy in my arms.  At 11 months, she's already trying to take off at the store, even though she doesn't get very far doing the army crawl and the sideways moonwalk.  You should've seen me today at Mirabel's ballet class.  There were a few other pre-walkers there, but Juju was the only one squirming until I put her down, and wiggling across the floor in search of a goldfish crumb or two, or maybe even a leaf.  She's so curious and energetic, but still squishy.  
Before Juliette was born, I managed to finish a scrapbook with a few favorite pictures from Mirabel's first year.  I haven't even started on Juliette's.  2 years ago, I bought a first year picture collage frame for Mirabel.  I tried buying one for Juliette yesterday, at the same store, and they no longer sell it.  I was more sad about it than I should've been.  Mom guilt, anyone?  But looking at those pictures over the weekend made me feel like I'd already lost my first baby and I was beginning to lose my second.  I mentioned it to Jose, and in that same conversation I realized that we're also gaining something more than what we had before.  Little did I know 3 years ago that Mirabel would someday love to dance, would befriend any passer-by with a friendly hello (followed by a hug), would want to watch Beauty and the Beast 3 times in one week, and would love to make robots from empty cartons... These moments are just as priceless as the ones before, and I'm slowly learning to live in and appreciate right now, and not yesterday or tomorrow, whether the babies are squishy or not.

Strawberry picking in Fredericksburg, TX.
As lovely as it all sounds, I've also had the opportunity to witness a few less pleasant traits blossom in this child whose personality is as curly as her ringlets.  Yes, she was the one expressing her frustration quite loudly today in class, as she struggled to put on her tap shoes all by herself.  And I admit, this is another moment that I wish I could press rewind or fast forward.  (Then I realize I don't really want to press fast forward, because if she's like this now, how will she be at 16 ;)?)  I see the little hairs on her head curl even tighter with every impatient scream... and I remember that God has a sense of humor.
Even though it wasn't fun to watch, I didn't take it too personally today.  Because, like everything else, that moment passed.  And I also remembered what I'd read just a few days prior, in a book that has been incredibly encouraging, and has given me a new perspective on moments like these that make up the beauty of motherhood... Drum roll, please.  That book is called: The Mission of Motherhood by Sally Clarkson.
It's like a refreshing slap in the face.  It's honest and so right on.  I think I've highlighted 98.9% of the book so far, but here are my favorite quotes,  the ones that are setting me straight:

"...servant leadership is the model that Jesus gave to us for all areas of our lives, including our roles as mothers.  He reached the minds, hearts and lives of his disciples not just by telling them what to do but by serving them in love--an example the contrasts starkly to the common view of what leadership is all about." (p. 63)
"Choosing to be a servant-mother means willingly giving up myself, my expectations, and my time to the task of mothering--and choosing to believe that doing so is the best use of my time at that moment.  It means that, by faith, I have already made a decision to make myself available in the routine tasks and myriad interruptions of daily life because I believe it is God's will for me to serve my family through them.  Making this choice ahead of time means I will expect problems and needs to arise and be ready to deal with them in peace instead of impatience and resentment." (p. 67)
"...the future is not where real life began.  Each day was God's perfect will for me.  There would be no wasted years of 'just taking care of the needs of my young children.' On the contrary, these years would be the most important of my life." (p. 68)

Juju almost a year ago!  She'll be a year next month!

The A Word

And NO I'm not talking about donkeys.  Or the party they represent!!!My husband says I'm the biggest feminist he's ever met.  And guess what?  I'm also the most vocally pro-life person he's ever met, too.  Everyone's got something they're passionate about.  This my thing, right here, peeps.  Feel free to read or ignore.  I don't mind either way.Have you ever been in labor?  If you haven't: Nothing compares to labor, folks.  It feels like you're being ripped in two, and sometimes you really are.  It is not for the faint of heart, huh, as you might imagine thanks to my lovely description. The uterus is stronger than any other muscle in the human body for a reason.  It's a powerful vessel that deserves to have its rights protected…and therein lies room for debate. But the debates we're having distract from the real issue.We value freedom and independence in our country.  Freedom of speech, dress, choice… But in trying to define independence, we've lost site of it; we've forgotten that true independence can only exist alongside dependence--on more than just ourselves.  I, personally, believe that dependence should be rooted in God, but I'll try to speak in more general terms, to make a point that doesn't need defending.Though I am pro-life, you will not find any of my funds going to support an organization that plasters aborted babies (yes, I did just say babies) on massive posters for all eyes to see.  More harm than good comes from that approach.  To me, pro-life means supporting what sustains spiritual, physical, and emotional life.  Have you ever seen anyone skipping to an abortion clinic with a smile on their face?  Not me.  The few women I know who've had an abortion certainly weren't happy to do it.  Though they were (yes, were) pro-choice, they actually felt robbed of a choice when considering their limited options before going forward with it.  Fear interferes with our ability to make choices.  In fact, it robs us of any true choice, really.  I'm gonna get Christian on you, again, excuse me, but I'm just itching to say it.  Perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18).  (You knew I was gonna have to throw a little bible in here somewhere, huh?  Just not using the verses you typically see being used in this context. ;)General Fears: How to break the news to the parents?  How to take care of this baby after it's born, on a limited income, and without ANY SUPPORT (spiritual, physical, and emotional--because, yes, being a mom requires all that kind of support, and then some)? MORE SPECIFIC FEARS: How do I give birth to  a baby that was conceived in an unfortunate event, or at the wrong time, or with some rare health problem?  Though I personally don't believe any conception comes about by accident, I know that's not enough to convince anyone who frowns upon my "uneducated, Christian" way of thinking. But I wanted to add that in, to keep my position on this issue clear.To really provide choices, we need more than what pro-life and pro-choice politics can offer.  If there were fewer underlying fears, there would be fewer regrets, and fewer debates… because we can all agree that behind these fears is self-doubt, which stems from a lack of support. Liberal feminists will argue that they are strong, independent, and intelligent.  I'm an independent feminist who also considers herself strong, independent, and somewhat intelligent (when my kids let me sleep thru the night ;)-- I didn't get that way on my own.  Anyone who thinks they did is lying to themselves.Yes, my faith is the primary source of strength.  But I've also been blessed with an amazing support system. We live in an ironically detached society that promotes independence.  I can tell you that I am independent because somebody (thankfully, many somebodys) believed in me by loving me.  Sometimes parents do that, other times it's someone else…  Even as a married adult in a healthy relationship, I cannot imagine what kind of struggle I'd face as a parent if I didn't have a support system.To those about to formulate an argument that sounds something like, "Well, it's easy for you to be pro-life BECAUSE you had that support system and you're married--you're in a totally different situation."  I'll say this:   My support system doesn't look anything like George Bush's.  It looks more like Obama's.  I'll just leave it at that.  Oh yeah, and I was almost aborted, just a quick sidenote.  So I guess I fall under the, "at the wrong time" category--though my husband would beg to differ.  At age 2, I knew what food stamps were and wore dresses as blouses when they were too short for me.  Thankfully, I am alive because my mother realized she had a support system, and didn't have to make a choice she'd regret, and truly didn't want to make.To those who say that anyone who gives their child up for adoption is weak, and that it's an easy choice, I'll say this:  Remember what I said about labor--that it can literally tear you in half?  Imagine going thru that kind of pain physically AND emotionally.  Carry a baby for 9 months (it's really 40 weeks, so yeah), go thru 20 something hours of labor, and hand that baby over to someone you hardly know but somehow trust.  EASY?  HECK NO.  I have a hard time leaving my 10 month old with a sitter!!I watch way too many baby shows, one of them, "I'm Having Their Baby," features an ex female soldier who went to war.  She said she'd rather be at war than give her baby up for adoption.  THESE WOMEN NEED OUR SUPPORT TOO.  To selflessly make that kind of decision requires the kind of strength that could only exist if some kind of support system was in place, before AND after.  THEY ARE GIVING THEIR BABIES A CHOICE; they're placing them in the arms of loving, stable families that will allow them to make their own wise choices as independent adults who understand their freedoms.Abortion breaks hearts.  Pardon me for getting sentimental, but I think part of the problem is that we've taken the sentimentality away.  My mother used to make a lot of statements that started with, "When you become a mother…"  Well, I'm a mother now, and I feel more passionate on my position  than ever before.  But there's no power in passion without execution--just not the kind that keeps a heart from beating.  Wherever you stand, can you truly say that you're doing your part in showing these women they truly have as many choices as we say they do?

Status Update Fine Prints

One of my last posts was about how people think that the good life is published and talked about a little too much on Facebook, and it bothers them.  Then I mentioned how I like to, personally, talk about the good things so that I don't focus so much on the bad.  Well, I wish Facebook worked more like my brain.  Because sometimes I get stuck focusing on the bad, and it can be very easy to do sometimes.I tend to spiral.  Usually some kind of event triggers it.  A few weeks ago, I discovered some disheartening news about my dad.  Nearly 15 years of sobriety gone down the drain, just like that, in one day.  It's partly chemical (skipping meds for 4 days when you have a mental illness isn't good), but I know it's also very spiritual.  Sometimes I just want to shake him and say, "Can't you see what you're doing?!  You're supposed to be the parent and somehow, I know more than you."  I just can't make any sense of it, but then again, I've never resorted to drugs or alcohol when depressed.  In fact, I've avoided it like the plague because addiction runs in my family.Then I got to spiraling myself.  I started thinking about my own childhood.  I know forgiveness is a choice, but it's not just a one-time choice, it's a daily one.  I get really angry sometimes.  I really don't know my dad because he wasn't there when I was a kid, and now he's chemically altered so I don't know the person he used to be.  But my reasons for getting angry today have less to do with my past than with my present...How do I know how to be a good mom if I didn't have that kind of secure attachment with my own parents?  This weighs on me every day.  Remember the Disney analogy, how I somehow made motherhood out to be this wonderfully amazing thing that just came naturally to everyone?  Some days, it's really easy.  When both my kids actually sleep well and I feel half sane.  Or when I get that random "I love you" in the middle of the day, unexpectedly.  Other days, when my three year old says, "I don't like you" because she doesn't want to eat anything resembling food for breakfast, it's not.  Motherhood does not come naturally on those days.  Acting like a child always comes easily.  I sometimes wish I could throw the eggs on the floor and say, "Fine, don't eat anything, then."  But, instead, I respond by saying, "I'm sorry you don't like me, that hurts my feelings."  Then I put the plate down and walk away.Little does my three year old know that when she uses this new and exciting phrase to express her disapproval, it really hits me.  Why?  Because I work so dang hard, sometimes I feel like I work harder than I should have to, because of the absent example.But then it hit me the other day.  We're all lacking an example.  How do we know how to be good people?  How do we define good and how do we know what love is, when, let's face it, we've all been hurt by the people who say they love us.  I believe we know because God put the understanding of his love in all of our hearts.  No, we don't get to see him face to face here on Earth.  But imagine how much easier being a good person would be if we could!  So easy.  To see perfect love being acted out before us every day would make  even driving easier, at least for me ;).I feel like having great parents is like having training wheels.  It gives you something to lean on when you're unable to ride without falling over on your own.  It gives you a sense of security.  Knowing you won't hit the pavement so quickly if you loose your balance makes riding a whole lot easier.  But just because you never had training wheels doesn't mean you'll never learn how to ride a bike.  It just means you have the opportunity to learn to ride while only trusting the invisible hand.  Training wheels can be removed.  Sometimes they break; sometimes the wheels get jammed.  But we all have God holding onto us.It sounds so nice, and easy, just saying it.  Ha.  They say when you write something, your brain believes it more than if you just say it out loud.  Today, I hope that's true because my brain is struggling to hear and believe the truth, when there are disappointing memories replaying like a broken record.  It's slowly becoming the background noise, though.Though I have plenty of moments that literally bring me to my knees in tears as a mom, sometimes a few tears of joy are mixed in with the frustration.  When I focus more on what I'm actually seeing instead of the broken record, I have nothing else to say but, "Thank you."  Thank you, God, for sparing me from drugs, alcohol, and an abusive spouse so that I can have the beautiful family that I've always wanted--the one you provided.  Even though Mirabel may have her, "I don't like you" moments, she also has her, "I love you" moments, and I didn't have either of those with my dad. Progress, we're making it, slowly but surely.Since becoming a mom, I've been able to let things go a whole lot more.  Maybe it's wrong to say I've been able, more like I've been forced ;).  I've always been a neat-freak, my way of providing order amidst chaos, I guess.  I'd like to think that by leaving toys on the floor for 24 hours and clean clothing in the laundry for 3 days, I'm proving that I no longer need so much artificial order, since my life is not quite as chaotic.  Here's the evidence:

see, I even mixed whites and colors!  Just don't tell my husband ;0).

playroom

guest room, after a horrendous sewing experiment.

....ok, so maybe I decided to sew some dresses instead of clean.  But in order to get this done, I had to let things go.  (And lose sleep, these were made on the nights Juliette decided it was partytime at 2 AM.)

Progress requires letting things go.  I need to let go of the fact that I can't re-do the past.  I will not be the perfect mom, even if I do/did have an ideal childhood.  I will not have cutely dressed children in homemade dresses AND a clean house and wrinkle-free clothing ;)...

But my children are happy, on the days that they like me (when I give them fruit snacks for breakfast instead of eggs ;).  That's all I ever really wanted for them, even before they were born.

**And I finally wrote a post!  But my kitchen is covered in pancake crumbs and I've been asked for a treat about 5 times.  I got up to clean someone's bottom and change the song on the radio about 10 times, for the serious music critic under 4....but I wrote a post!!**

June 2013

I am due for a post, but this will have to do for today :).

Facebook life

I recently saw a comment about how people portray their lives as being perfect on social networking sites, like Facebook.  I've even heard people say that these status updates/tweets can breed unhappiness.  But you know what?  To those cynics I say: you're only fooling yourself.  Last time I checked, everyone has problems.  Big or small, they are there.  I'm pretty sure that other people cannot cause unhappiness simply by discussing their own happy moments in a simple status update.  They're just that, after all, status updates.  What's going on right now. Who wants to hear about diaper blowouts?  Literally and figuratively.  I've got plenty of poop that needs wiping up.  But when I do want to share something, or create a hard copy of a funny thought or precious and fleeting moment, I want it to be worth pondering, laughing about, and/or remembering.I talk a lot about my kids on Facebook, because right now, they're all I read, watch, and smell.  I'm a stay at home mom, after all.  It's not a glamourous job all the time (eventually, I like eating something other than bon bons while sitting on the couch, so I do cook for fun, too), but it's a job I consider myself blessed to have.  Ok, so I do take a few moments to myself (that's why I don't shower as often as I used to, pre-kids HA!).  Sometimes I even spend more than 5 minutes on my hair.  But usually, I'm thinking about them.  It might seem like too much, but I'll tell you--it's really changed my perspective on quite a few things, like...Eating: The funny--I hide candy now.  I feel guilty about sneaking into the closet under our stairs to take a bite of chocolate (the same chocolate I hid from Mirabel after the Valentine's Day Father-Daughter dance at church).  Because I don't want her to have cavities, of course!  I think I need to ask Jose to hide it from me, because I'm the one with a crown, and it's not because I'm queen of this house.Truth--I actually eat more vegetables now that I have children.  Nursing one baby and trying to convince a toddler that vegetables are healthy, I think about what I eat more than I used to.  Also, I need to stay healthy, because who will take care of them when I'm sick?  ME!  And taking care of kids when you're sick is the hardest job, next to being a navy seal.Sleeping:The funny--I've learned how to master the art of sleeping while holding on to the edge of the bed and not rolling over.  Why?  Because, somehow, a baby that's 1/4 my size takes up so much space on a king size bed.Truth--I never took naps until I had kids.  I do it because I'm a better mom when I'm not sleep deprived.  Oh yes, and I'll live longer (and that's important, I want to be around for the grandkids--one of the best parts!).Hearing:The funny--I'm pretty sure Mirabel is going to be an opera singer.  I am also amazed that I can still hear Juliette crying with the bathroom door closed while I'm showering downstairs and the baby monitor is turned off, in spite of and on top of Mirabel's screaming.Truth--Man, I've never paid attention to song lyrics so much in my life!  Even the tune of a song can get me nervous, these days.  A rough sounding rap song came on while we were listening to music via our TV from our computer's playlist and I was convinced I was gonna have to change it!!!  Turns out it was a Christian rap song LOL.  One of Jose's favorite songs.  But yes, I really pay attention to what I listen to, or even watch.  I thought my parents were overprotective while I was growing up, though they did take it to the extreme, I can understand their paranoia a little bit more now.Acting:The funny--This sounds weird.  I don't mean acting as in a theatre production, though sometimes I do fake cry to get Mirabel to obey me (because she does have an empathetic side).  And she is quite the drama queen herself.  But I mean actions, as in verbs.  I guess this would qualify as "drama production" acting, since I do take my own version of an intermission.  Usually I do this after a very dramatic production.  I give myself a time out. Truth-- I've learned how to hold back and give more.  You can call this acting, I call it not unleashing my inner sinful human.  I'm still terrible at it.  Awful, even.  I've learned that yelling on top of yelling just make a lot of...noise.  Sometimes I have to force myself to hug my kid when she's screaming at the top of her lungs and having a fit because two legs can't fit into one pant leg, or the right shoe can't fit on the left foot.  Sometimes saying "QUIET" really loudly is not a good idea, but a hug is.  Even when I don't feel like hugging because I've been holding someone all day.  But we both feel better afterward.Forgiving:The funny...Ok, there really aren't too many funny moments I can think of to give an example of this one.  Ok, I've learned how to forgive myself when I can't wash all the dishes in the sink before going to bed at night.  Wait, that's not funny (that's kinda pathetic actually).The truth: You know that word grace?  Oh, I knew it but I didn't really KNOW it until I had children.  I'm not saying that I've had to learn how to show more grace to other people.  There's always room for improvement there.  But I never really considered what it meant to show myself grace...
Growing up, I had this Disneyland idea of motherhood.  I'd be able to get on all the rides because I'd be tall enough (i.e., I'd be able to handle every obstacle/roller coaster with grace and a smile on my face).  Every night would end with a perfect view of the Electrical Parade down on Main Street, as planned.  There'd be a schedule, and all the shows would start on time. It was a very idealized view.  I have a pretty good understanding, now, of why I had this view of motherhood.  But I don't live in a magical kingdom, never have and never will.  I did meet my prince charming, but we're still learning what it means to live happily ever after, with kids. 
I might be able to compare my experience as a mom to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, just a little.  My two kids do take on each of their personalities quite well, but I've never been able to sleep as soundly as Snow White, that's for sure.  There are some days I feel like Cinderella, cleaning the house with my two little mice and running out the door with only one shoe on. Motherhood is definitely "a whole new world...".  But Jose has learned not to say, "don't you dare close your eyes," because, sometimes, you've just gotta look the other way and pretend like that kid who's licking the bottom of someone's shoe (and enjoying it) isn't yours.  I view my daughters as princesses, that's for sure, but not in a fairytale.  I'm not their fairy godmother.  I cannot change a pumpkin into a beautiful horse-drawn carriage.  But. That. Is. OK. I'm going to make mistakes and cry like a baby in front of them when I've had enough (even though I'm supposed to be the adult). These are the moments you won't see advertised on facebook.  HA!  They are very real because I am very real and not a Disney character.  I just like to document the good times, the random photos, the funny phrases, so that I know what to keep my focus on.  When my 2 year old says that her sister is her best friend, it makes me feel like I'm not doing such a bad job after all!