In the Picture

Before I had kids I read all kinds of blog posts and articles about the importance of moms being in the pictures with their own kids. Too often we are just behind the camera lens. Since I waited so long to have my kids, it gave me a lot of time to consider this and I have worked diligently over the last eight years to get into photos.

So this year, when Facebook released their little year-end video –– the one I normally look forward to seeing; the one where whatever digital algorithm determines what gets in the mix –– I was more than a little sad that I was not in a single one of the photos (besides the leading profile pic). While it was a nice reminder of good memories (mostly with my kids), it didn't actually include me. What the heck, Facebook?

This got me to thinking that I want to be better about taking pictures with my friends. While I am pretty good at taking photos with my boys, and mostly good about snap pictures with Daniel, photos with my best friends are a little more elusive.

So to everyone who humored me for a big group pic this year, or took a minute to pose just the two of us, a big heartfelt THANK YOU. It means a lot to me to have a photo of us. I have moved a lot over the course of my life and I am grateful for the photos that document friendships I've had over the years.

A good friend of mine moved away last year and I only have a couple of photos of the two of us. I have tons of our kids together, but not so much of us. For several years, she was my person. She was there to celebrate the good stuff and offered a listening ear and wise counsel on the not-so-good stuff. I wish I had more pics of the two of us.

If I ask you some time in the future, I hope you will pause and take a pic with me!

Girl's Weekend

A few weeks ago one of my closest friends since junior high emailed to see if I would be interested in joining her on a girl's weekend to celebrate her birthday. 

In the Cayman Islands. 

My initial thought was "there is no way that is going to happen," but I told her I would think about it and at the very least discuss the possibility with Daniel.

The thing was, I was feeling really burned out. Most aspects of my life didn't really feel like they were in order. I was struggling with resentment and bitterness for where I was in life. I love Daniel and my kids, and have some really great friendships, but I was running on empty and wasn't really sure how to regain balance.

Surprisingly, Daniel was on board with me taking this trip. We agreed that it really couldn't be a yearly occurrence (not on the scale of leaving the country anyways), but that I shouldn't pass up the opportunity to catch up with a good friend I hadn't seen in five years.

As Kristalynne and I made plans, it dawned on me that we have been friends for twenty-five years. A quarter of a century had passed since we first struck up a friendship in the youth group at our church. A lot of living has happened in the last twenty-five years.

The last time we saw each other, she had just had first child and I was weeks away from becoming a mother myself. She didn't have a chance to meet Jack before she moved to Houston to start her career as a doctor. 

In our early months of embracing motherhood, there were phone calls to see how we were handling our new lives, and when we were sent to a Pediatric Neurologist to have Jack's big head checked out, she called and talked to me through that experience. Mostly we have kept in touch via Facebook, and her mom checks in on me from time-to-time as well.

Our friendship is one that can just pick up, as if no time had passed. There are no awkward moments, we just catch up on what we have missed and then move on to the present.

On the way to the Caymans, it worked out that we both had layovers in Charlotte, NC and would be on the same flight to our final destination. Thankfully the flight wasn't full and we were able to grab seats together.

The whole weekend was filled with relaxing, swimming, and a little adventure too. We swapped stories about our kids, and also funny travel experiences we have each experienced in different parts of the world. We laughed, we were serious, we talked about high school days and friends we wished could be with us. 

We were both grateful to step away from our normal lives for a few days. We could wake up when we wanted – with no expectations. Our meals weren't spent cutting up food for kids. We did grown-up activities. We missed our families, but we enjoyed the break.

I came home feeling renewed, grateful for the time to catch up with my old friend, but also grateful to be back with my own family. I feel like I have found the balance I was missing in my life. Taking time for myself for the first time in five years was one of the best things I have ever done for myself.

 

The Cayman Islands wasn't a bad place to do this!

Girl's Getaway Recap

Taking a Break from Motherhood ⎮ What We Did ⎮ The Food We Ate ⎮Waverunner Snorkel Safari

Thursday Things: Fear vs. Confidence in Motherhood and Myself

Before I had kids, I was pretty fearless. I was always up for trying new things. When Daniel purchased his first motorcycle when we were still dating, I didn't bat an eye. But once I had kids, fear wormed its way into my head and made itself comfortable.

In those early years when Jack was a newborn, I was afraid a lot. Would this little baby that I had been entrusted with survive? There seemed to be things lurking at every turn and I found myself awake during many nights just worrying.

When Jack was around the age of one, Daniel and I started biking pretty regularly again, taking Jack with us. One of our favorite places to explore was the Hays Nature Preserve in Huntsville. It has great paved trails and you can also explore some dirt tracks that aren't too difficult.

Jack loved his time on the back of Daniel's bike, and Daniel and I enjoyed getting to do one of our hobbies again. On one of those rides with Jack, Daniel found a trail that had a rocky descent. I don't think that it was particularly steep or long, but as I stood at the top I experienced a serious mental block.

When I first started biking as an adult it was mostly on mountain bike trails. I had great confidence speeding through the woods in an effort to keep up with Daniel, riding over roots, knolls and around tight turns. I had no fear then. But that day in the woods with our toddler, I could not, for the life of me, muster the courage to ride down. In shame, I got off my bike and walked...

About a year ago Daniel and I had the opportunity to sneak off and ride our mountain bikes, just the two of us. It was the first time I had been on my bike since being pregnant with Isaac. It had been raining and the trails were muddy, but we were undeterred in our effort to find the right trail out to Edward's Point. We didn't find Edward's Point that day (we ran out of daylight), but I did tackle some really difficult terrain. Over big rocks and logs and down some pretty steep sections. We were both covered in mud when we finished, but I don't think that either of us fell off our bikes!

I'm not sure what happened between that day in Huntsville 3+ years ago and the day last year, but fear is no longer controlling me. At least not when it comes to mountain biking!

I have been more willing to try other things as well. Maybe it is confidence in being in better shape but this ability to be confident instead of afraid of hurting myself has manifested in other ways as well. I have been going to yoga once a week over the last couple of months and when we have the opportunity to try harder moves, I always try the harder variation.

I have surprised myself by feeling comfortable flipping my dog (or wild thing) and also being able to do a wheel. I would have been too afraid that I was going to hurt myself in the past. Today in bootcamp I was jumping rope and it crossed my mind that I could do some pretty cool moves with a jump rope when I was about ten years old. So during my 60-second interval with the rope, I tried crossing my arms. The first time I hit myself with the rope, but I tried again. And my body remembered! It felt good to try to do something I used to be able to do. And I did it again, and again.

I am constantly reminding my kids to get back up, shake it off and try again. Whether walking or riding a bike. I want them to keep trying. And I want that for myself too. I hope I never stand at the top of a hill and let my fear take away the joy I might get from accomplishing something. I hope I have the courage to remind myself that it is ok to fall sometimes (or hit myself with the rope) and that I just need to get back up and try again.

Thursday Things: Identity

Thursdays used to be a day where I used my blog to share what was in my head, or random things that were happening in life. Well it's Thursday, so here goes...

I've been thinking a lot about identity lately and how mine has changed over the years. For 36 years I have been a daughter. For the past 23 years I have been a Christian. I was a student for 16 years, and have been a wife and also a graphic designer for almost 15 years now. I have worked part-time, from home, for the last 6 years. And most recently, I have been a mom for a little over five years.

These identities are all very different but also intertwined with each other, making me me. There are other pieces too... world traveler (36 years), outdoor enthusiast (maybe 23 years), YMCA member (12-ish years, spanning 15 years). All of it, it's all me. The hardest identity for me, thus far, has been motherhood. It was an identity I chose, but it has not been what I expected, and not really something that I actively prepared for. It has been both more and less that what I thought it might be.

I have the privilege of choosing to be home with my kids, and I can't imagine it any other way, but there is a difficulty in that too. When I have ongoing freelance design work, I seem to function better. It's like the more balls I have in the air, the more I can accomplish – both professionally and personally. But when my work dries up, as it has been in recent months, I struggle. I don't know what to do with myself, so I let things slide. I drop the balls. I love being with our kids and raising them, but I struggle with the mundane parts. I struggle with the loads of laundry and cleaning, the endless dishes and lunches to make, the bathrooms that don't clean themselves. All of it really.

Jack recently started a conversation that was along the lines of telling me that I didn't have a real job. When we pressed him on what he meant, he said, I didn't do important things like help people. He went on with an example of my sister (a nurse) having an important job which helped people all the time. And he is right. I don't have that same kind of job. His words didn't bother me, they were more an echo chamber of something I sometimes feel. Motherhood is important and stay-at-home moms (parents) provide many services but it isn't work in the sense of how our culture views work, and that can be frustrating and confusing. I spent years preparing for a career in graphic design, but almost zero time preparing myself to change diapers, manage a household, or teach children how to be good human beings.

Malcolm Gladwell has a theory that one needs to spend 10,000 hours doing something to become really great at it. In the working world, that probably translates to about 5 years (of 40-hour weeks) to excel at what you do. I remember my early days as a graphic designer, they weren't pretty. I needed time, years really, to hone my skills. I think parenting may require more than 10,000 hours – it is always changing, and you do a lot of it in the early years with less sleep than you might hope for. As soon as you think you have a handle on it, things shift again.

Intellectually I know that this current phase will not be like this forever. My identity will probably change many times in my lifetime. My kids will need me less, and help around the house more. Perhaps I will rejoin the workforce, maybe my career path will change. Who knows? For now I am floundering along, trying to fit myself into this current identity of motherhood – both the good and hard parts.

Evidently I was in a similar funk four years ago when I wrote this blob post: More Than Just a Mom

Mother's Day Weekend, cont.

After our strawberry picking and quick trip to Atlanta on Friday, we were supposed to get up early (for us) on Saturday morning to take Jack to get his T-Ball pictures. On this particular Saturday there were no games, just team pictures, a cookout, a home run derby and bouncy houses. Daniel had scheduled a vet visit for Sophie so I took the boys to the baseball festivities.

Let's talk kid's pants for a minute... Jack's baseball pants are white. The morning of pictures I realized that while his pants were clean, they were no longer white (rookie mom mistake?). With no time to spare, we headed out the door with dirt-stained knees.

Once at the ball field, each team had to wait their turn for photos. Our team was third up. This translated to little kids jumping off of bleachers, which lead to more stains of the grass variety (in addition to dirt-stained knees). Barring threatening your child to sit quietly and not play, how do parents keep kids clean for outdoor photos? Knee stains and all, the photos were completed and I took Jack to the bouncy houses.

We were early enough in the day that it wasn't too busy. Jack had a blast while Isaac was stuck in the stroller. I finally convinced Jack to leave by way of teaching empathy: Isaac is stuck in the stroller, how would you feel being stuck in a stroller?

We headed home for lunch and a nap for our littlest. After nap time we loaded the boys up and headed to Prentice Cooper for a quick hike. 

The weather was perfect. We didn't have enough time to go to Mushroom Rock , so we did a shorter trail with lots of bridges. Jack was happy to explore some and cross all the bridges.

Isaac just wanted to chew the straps on the kid carrier he was riding in. Which lead us to sing the mom version of "My Answer is No," while we hiked. It was a great way to wrap up our afternoon. 

On the way home, we grabbed dinner for my guys (McDonalds for the boys and Guthries for Daniel) and then I got ready for a girl's night out. I have only really come to understand the importance of GNOs in the last couple of years. I don't think I have really participated in this type of thing since college, but as a mother it is nice to take a break from parental duties and catch up with other moms.

We discussed the first movie that made us sad, the one where you realize life doesn't always have a happy ending. For me that movie was My Girl. I was 10 and it was shocking to sit in a movie theater and realize that there wouldn't be a happy ending. We discussed our kids, what we are cooking, things we are worried about, vacations we have taken, and just generally caught up on life. All while eating delicious food at Tupelo Honey Cafe.

It was a great day to end a Saturday. I didn't get home until 10:30. For me that is a pretty late night, but it was worth it!

Thank You to the Many Moms in My Life

Motherhood. I am in the thick of it. I have a baby who still wakes me up to nurse, and a preschooler who is on the cusp of being a big kid (he already insists he lives in this realm). I am sleep-deprived and weary, but simultaneously grateful for the life I have. There was a time that I wasn't 100% sure I wanted kids, yet here I am and it is a good life.

Over the years many mothers have had a tremendous impact on me. From my mom who has had the most influence by far to grandmothers who have taught and given endless one-on-one time; aunts who were like older sisters I never had; and the moms of friends who took an interest in me; and finally as an adult, the women who are family through marriage, who have have chosen to love me and my children. Thank you all for playing a part in my life.

Since becoming an adult I have watched many friends, and my younger sister, as they have waded into the unknown territory of motherhood ahead of me. I have learned and been encouraged by their experiences. Thank you for carrying the torch ahead of me and being willing to offer a listening ear during my harder mothering moments.

I have had so many encouraging voices at different life stages, from the women who made me feel like my choice to wait to have children was perfectly fine, to the infinite support I received when I had a miscarriage. I have been blessed with examples of women who gave me a glimpse into motherhood that didn't conform to norms. They showed me that being who I was deep inside could be enhanced by motherhood, that those parts that make me uniquely me didn't have to be discarded. Thank you for letting me in on that secret!

For the women who are struggling this Mother's Day – with infertility, loss of a child, loss of a mother, not fitting into what is expected of you, I want you to know that you are loved, that I have walked some of those paths and I hope you know that you are not alone.

A prayer for Mother's Day adapted by Heidi Carrington Heath and originally written by Amy Young

I want you to know I'm praying for you if you are like Tamar, struggling with infertility, or a miscarriage.

I want you to know that I'm praying for you if you are like Rachel, counting the women among your family and friends who year by year and month by month get pregnant, while you wait.
 

I want you to know I'm praying for you if you are like Naomi, and have known the bitter sting of a child's death.
 

I want you to know I am praying for you if you are like Joseph and Benjamin, and your Mom has died.
 

I want you to know that I am praying for you if your relationship with your Mom was marked by trauma, abuse, or abandonment, or she just couldn't parent you the way you needed.
 

I want you to know I am praying for you if you've been like Moses' mother and put a child up for adoption, trusting another family to love your child into adulthood.
 

I want you to know I am praying for you if you've been like Pharaoh's daughter, called to love children who are not yours by birth (and thus the mother who brought that child into your life, even if it is complicated).
 

I want you to know I am praying for you if you, like many, are watching (or have watched) your mother age, and disappear into the long goodbye of dementia.
 

I want you to know that I am praying for you if you, like Mary, are pregnant for the very first time and waiting breathlessly for the miracle of your first child.
 

I want you to know that I am praying for you if your children have turned away from you, painfully closing the door on relationship, leaving you holding your broken heart in your hands. And like Hagar, now you are mothering alone.
 

I want you to know that I am praying for you if motherhood is your greatest joy and toughest struggle all rolled into one.
 

I want you to know that I am praying for you if you are watching your child battle substance abuse, a public legal situation, mental illness, or another situation which you can merely watch unfold.
 

I want you to know that I am praying for you if you like so many women before you do not wish to be a mother, are not married, or in so many other ways do not fit into societal norms.
 

I want you to know that I am praying for you if you see yourself reflected in all, or none of these stories.
 

This mother's day, wherever and whoever you are, we walk with you. You are loved. You are seen. You are worthy. And may you know the deep love without end of our big, wild, beautiful God who is the very best example of a parent that we know. Amen.

The Camp House

When I first became a mom, four-and-a-half years ago, I had a difficult time letting go of the me before kids. I can't be certain, but perhaps it was hard to make the adjustment because I had spent my ENTIRE adult life (almost 10 years!) filling roles that did not include motherhood. 

Thankfully my life circumstances at the time allowed me to continue working part-time as a graphic designer and I have been able to spend the last 5 years wearing multiple hats.

One of the biggest blessings of continuing part-time with my career, besides keeping a foot in the door and my skills up-to-date, is that I made a friend who understands the me who works. This has been helpful in so many ways since I no longer go to an office where I would be surrounded by peers.

We actually met through Craigslist, when I was first just starting up freelancing in the Chattanooga area, and we have been colleagues and friends ever since.

Initially 98% of our interaction was through email, but in recent years we have made an effort to get together several times a year for coffee or breakfast. We talk shop. We talk motherhood. We talk about life in general. We discuss current projects, client frustrations, new software, and she doesn't mind if I bring a baby along (I'm pretty sure Jack tagged along as a newborn when she first interviewed me!).

I'm so grateful that I live in a time that I can work remotely, and that I have peers who understand why I choose to freelance as well as the frustrations (and benefits) of working from home.

Today we met at The Camp House in downtown Chattanooga for breakfast. The place was hopping. I had a latte with my scrambled eggs, bacon, and potatoes with cheese. The food was simple but incredibly delicious. You know I love breakfast, and this place hit the spot. With lots of couches and big tables, The Camp House is a great place for a meeting or to work remotely (though maybe on a quieter day, today was super loud). They also have a huge outdoor area for warmer days.

The Camp House is a unique venue in that while it serves as a cafe during the day, and music venue in the evening, it is also a church on Sunday – a part of The Mission Chattanooga Community that meets in three distinct venues throughout the city of Chattanooga. If you haven't had a chance to check out The Camp House, you really should.