{survival}

I'm happy to report that through my 4+ month hiatus of writing, that indeed we all survived Everest's first year of life on the outside. There were moments over the last 12 months that it looked dreary, bleak, and next to impossible to just keep pressing on and waking up every new day to do all the crazy all over again. And yet, from where I stand now... I wouldn't change a thing.

Isn't that the interesting and baffling fact of life? That somehow, through some strange and strong force outside ourselves, we pull through the weeds, the pain, and climb the treacherous mountains that take every amount of willpower we can muster, and we come out feeling like it was a magical and fantastic experience (though I'm not sure I'd describe a huge chunk of this last year in those specific terms). Sometimes we are so disillusioned and forget all the pain entirely and willingly walk through the same path again and again.

With time, we all change and grow, seeing things in a new way, and transforming our hearts and thoughts as we learn from others and ourselves.

I think the most miraculous change happens in your first 12 months of life. Through images alone, you can see it. At only a month old, Ever was barely able to identify Aaron and I from across the room and now the kid says, "Oh wow." 

Here are some big deals I want to remember from this first year as I see these images all together:

Month 1: I loved how Ever looked in his robot jammies. In fact, he may have worn those jammie's 5/7 days of the week because I thought they were so dang cute. He nursed like a champ, was super snuggly, and slept in his cradle right next to our bed. He was definitely on a 2-3 hour clock that first 4 weeks and we were living off of coffee. The superpowers you get from new parenthood set in again and Aaron and I were an unstoppable (though very exhausted) team.

Month 2: He started to squeak and smile! There was some slight interaction now and he loved laying on his back kicking his legs wildly. I remember thinking I took way too many pictures of him on that rug we had in the front room, but he was always happy there, and the light was good. Still a good nurser and on a 3 hour schedule. When he was unhappy all our tricks that worked with Amity went out the window. We quickly realized that we knew nothing and were going to have to start from scratch. The kid hated light, had to be nursed and put to sleep in a very dark and quiet room (aside from the rattle of a very loud fan for white noise).

Month 3: I started calling him buggy sometime around this month because his cute little sense of humor came out and it seemed fitting with his budding personality, squeaks and squawks, but still he was so tiny and fragile. This was the month he started to realize sister existed (more than he had before anyway) and everything she did was magic. Therefore the nursing struggle began as buggy became way more interested in anything but consuming calories (still the story of his life to some degree - crazy kid).

Month 4: More robot jammies. The adorable level is through the roof here. Gosh, I don't remember a lot about month four except that that was when he went through a crazy sleep regression and sometimes we were up every 1-2 hours for what felt like forever. There's probably a correlation with me not remembering much and lack of sleep... Memory loss anyone? 

Month 5: Ever's hair started to turn blonder (more like sister's) and he moved into the big kid room and into his crib for not just naps anymore, but overnight. There were a lot of nights where none of us slept, but Amity seemed to adjust really well to the chaos and screaming and would snooze on through it. When we were having a particularly hard time getting Ever to go back to sleep after waking in the middle of the night, if we took him to try and let him sleep back in our room, sister would cry and wail and be so distraught that we took baby brother. It was heart breaking and so sweet all at the same time. We gradually began moving from a 4 nap day to a 2 nap day (it took 2 months for that to really stick). 

Month 6: We began turning a corner. A corner of longer stretches of sleep at night (sometimes 6 straight hours!), more consistent naps during the day, and happier awake times that were moving toward independent play. We helped to prop Ever up with a half moon of various pillow in case he toppled anywhere on a the rainbow arc behind him, and watched as he started to play, explore, and grow. 

Month 7: I remember distinctly that at some point this month Ever started sleeping through the night on occasion and we began to feel human again. I joked with a friend that I was afraid I wasn't going to remember anything from the first half year of his life, and in some ways that is entirely true (again the short term memory loss thing), but I remember that this was the month I started to deeply, madly, and wholly fall in love with Everest. Of course I loved him always, but c'mon, you totally know what I mean. He now was becoming so interactive and quite hilarious and the flood gates that had let out love here and there as it was needed in the past, now toppled over. Also, on Mother's Day he said his first word and it was "Mom-mom," so clearly I elevated to his favorite. 

I started to feel like I was no longer just surviving.

And this is when I stopped blogging (for the most part). I think when you are really enjoying life, and things are going amazing (comparatively), sometimes those are the hardest times to jot notes about what is happening or say a prayer of thanks. It's like that for me and a small part of me also thought that if I put it out there and say Hey, I'm a real woman again and I sleep 8 hours straight now. I don't put the milk in the freezer anymore and set dirty diapers in the fridge! Life is awesome again! that likely the streak of luck would break and it would all be back to the crazy... the crazy that just moments ago felt like I was crawling out of each half hour of our day and holding on for dear life. I couldn't risk that. I only spoke it aloud to a few friends and family members but was otherwise very general and vague in my communication.

Month 8: Sitting up, rolling every possible direction and inches away from crawling left me watching in wonderment as little man bloomed every single day right before our eyes. He is still not a super vocal kiddo though he knows multiple words now. Whenever sadness did overtake him though he always asked for "Mom-mom." Amity has always been super sweet and an extremely helpful big sister. This month Ever started to really interact more with her in a way where she seemed like she was feeling appreciated and the relationship they had started to bloom into a friendship. There were moments of rolling a ball to each other, crawling around and laughing hysterically in the grassy knoll behind our townhome and just a sense that these two have a connection that cannot be fabricated but is raw, real, and beautiful.

Month 9: This is the month Ever learned to cry to communicate in a new way how much he wanted to be with us 24/7. He would cry with his mouth pinched, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes squished shut and very little sound would escape his mouth.  His cry is funny and it's so hard not to laugh when he's doing this. He learned to master it - tearless of course - and has the ability to turn it off at the flip of a switch. Silly goose. Drama started in the family this month because sister realized that now that Ever could crawl, he had access to everything and that meant all of the toys! Learning to share. It all started here.  He also would make the most hilarious stinky face anywhere and everywhere. 

Month 10: Everest expressed his love for anything with wheels. He started to make up sound effects for cars, trucks, trains, etc. and Voom Voom them to and fro. He loved being outside and playing the guitar or the banjo. Oh man, the GUITAR! I almost forgot! This kid is destined to love music. He headbangs like you only wish you knew how to... with abandon, true devotion, and a spriteful beat as well.

Month 11: More movement, more food consumed, more sleep, more of all the good things in life and we were so excited to celebrate him being one!

And then... it was here.

Happy birthday little guy. What a ride you've taken us on. Our family feels so much fuller and complete now.

{just keep swimming}

A phrase most are extremely familiar with -- quite possibly from Dori in Nemo -- or because it's been around long before that and became oober popular due to cute animated fish saying it repeatedly as they trek on through a treacherous journey that lies ahead of them. Either way, "Just keep swimming" always makes me think of Dori and not giving up.

Since I last took the time to write, I've felt like this is what I've been doing, and I'm really happy to say that I've made a lot of progress with multiple areas in life by just taking each day at a time and doing the best I can with what I've got. The swim has had tough days, and days that seem incredibly smooth. That's how life is it seems.

Through setbacks (some self-inflicted, others by chance), days of our routine going out the window, celebrations of birthdays, and life -- I still managed to lose almost 8 lbs last month doing my Dietbet challenge. What was created through taking each day as it came and doing the best I could with the circumstances, was the desire (again) to get in my workout every day, to take care of my body and fuel it with good stuff, and be fun and active with my kiddos. I needed that loss. I needed to see that living life with all the chaos that comes up often wouldn't set me back entirely and that I was capable of hitting goals I've set for myself while still taking time to celebrate and enjoy food.

In other news... Everest is incredible. Of course he is, and always has been, but I think my heart is growing even more in tune with this bug as we've hit a new era. He's just fun now. He makes this hilarious guttural growl and cracks himself up, he is likely a week away from crawling, he is beginning to have multiple nights a week where he will sleep 10+ hours and it. is. amazing. The effect? I feel like a new mom. This gust of energy is finally there to work out, to play with Amity and not stick her in front of a movie during Ever's naps. I feel like I'm now, almost 8 months post partum, getting back to the Kim I want to be and have been working to become again.

I have sucked myself into an awesome new novel from Jodi Picoult, and therefore have set aside the self-improvement books for a bit, and then have spent lots of hours working bit by bit on blankets for babies that are due to be here in the fall months ahead. Summer has been good to our family. We have read more, gotten to the library, met up with friends, taken walks, hikes, and fun car rides. We have some big family trips on the horizon over the last two weekends of June which will be awesome and I'm so looking forward to continuing to just keep swimming and go with the flow of wherever life takes us.

{work in progress}

I always knew I wanted to become a mom, but I don't think I could have ever envisioned what being a mom really meant, until I lived a day as one. It's kinda the same for lots of things in my life. Fitness for example -- something I've always longed to be good at and do to live a long and healthy life -- but isn't always the easiest thing or exactly how I envisioned it being.

I'm now three weeks into my fitness challenge and have already succeeded in losing 55% of my goal weight with 10 days to go. Aaron and I have talked circles about working out, eating well, what is hard for me, what is easy for me, blah blah blah. What I think I find myself struggling with the very most, of all things dealing with working on becoming more of the person I want to be is feeling that I deserve to be that person.

As a mom, we all know those days where it feels like you just want to take the easier route to pop on a show from Netflix, have some peace and quiet while sipping a hot (emphasis on hot mind you) cup of coffee and thinking for the next 20-30 minutes and maybe even zoning out. There's really nothing wrong with this and I have no intention of judging others who do this every day of their lives because heck, we do what we think is best at the moment and with the circumstances we are dealt. For me though, I felt my heart tugging and telling me that this wasn't the kind of parent I wanted to be and that Amity's behavior issues as of late were likely directly caused because she was fending for herself watching shows often while mom did her own thing (initially so I could figure out life with a new baby but that's not really an excuse I can use anymore). So - I nixed that. In fact, the girl has had zero time watching anything (except a movie at Grandma & Grandpa's a few weekends ago (which in my mind is different), and she has been a total peach and joy to be around. I'm way more fun to be around too. So -- the question is, why was I running from living in a way that would make me more happy, make her more happy, make everyone more happy?

I tested that theory... to see if my kid would actually be super effected by screen time and watched James and the Giant Peach with her one morning during Ever's nap (also during the week I was a solo parent while Aaron was on a work trip in California recently). All seemed well, until it just didn't. It wasn't the moment after the movie ended, but the tantrums and constant arguing and asking for more screentime began within 10 minutes and led to multiple meltdowns and angry tears.

It wasn't worth it. The theory was in fact correct and for now, the kid can't handle any tv, shows, movies, etc. unless we are willing to handle a battle and forfeit the happiness in the home.

Subject change but connected...

My relationship with food is complicated. I see the goal I want to hit, whether it's those jeans I long to fit in again, or the way I want to feel in my swim suit this summer, or a number on the scale, and sometimes... too many times over the years... I will see progress and get closer to that goal and then I'll sabotage it. It's almost an unconscious decision. Lately I'm more aware either right before I do it, or while I'm doing it, but for years this really negative voice would start screaming in my head all of the reasons I really didn't deserve to make that goal actually come true or why I wasn't enough. The easier road in weight loss is to stay where we are right? Change is scary! There's an unknown about how I'll feel about myself if I lose weight, if I look different, if I even feel different -- even IF that's going to be a BETTER different.

Last weekend I drove my husband to the airport. It's his first business trip since we had Ever. I missed him like mad and like I said, most days (the days I didn't test the movie theory), we made it, and happy to report, had a wonderful time just mommy, Ami, and Ever. Everest is growing leaps and bounds. He hit 7 months old, can say "Momma" and "Bubba" (bottle), and is working on "Hi" and "Dada". The cuteness is overwhelming. I intentionally unplugged and was just there for my kids, taking time for myself when I worked out during Ever's nap with Ami and then not again until they were both in bed.

However, by the 5th day of flying solo, the food struggle became real. It was so hard not to feel entitled to eat what I wanted because I had endured being a single parent for almost a week. Surely, eating french fries and a giant strawberry lemonade was owed to me and no one could blame me for indulging after 15+ hour days with two little people and usually a midnight feeding in there too.

This is the pickle I find myself in. Using food as a "reward" for a difficult situation sets me back from all my hard work. But it is so tough to see that in the moment and to think through why I'm reacting emotionally and seeing food as the answer. I don't really want to nonverbally communicate that to Amity but I know I am.

The solution? I don't really have one. Writing helps though. It makes me conscious. It makes me examine my life, my goals, my behavior. That's a step in a positive direction I know.

{challenge}

I really like a good challenge. In fact, I'd almost dare to say that I am the best me when I'm under the gun of a challenge.

I scan Instragram way too much. However, a few days ago I saw a photo that Tony Horton (the crazy P90X guy) posted on his feed about a challenge he was running through a company called Dietbet. I thought I had heard of that somewhere before and maybe seen some friends compete in it but wasn't exactly sure what it all entailed. I found myself selecting the link in his profile, browsing the game he had set up and thought to myself... I. have. to. do. this. now.

So here's the gist in a few words. You sign up. You pay the bet for whatever game you're in (the one for Tony Horton was a $30 buy in), you try to lose a % of body weight by the end of 4 weeks and if you accomplish that, you get a piece of the pot (the total from all the players who placed a bet). For this challenge, you have to lose 4% body weight in 28 days which will be a challenge, no doubt, but totally seems doable too! And the pot? Well last I checked it was at $80,000! Yup, you read that right! There are a lot of people who are in the game, but not everyone will win and I am betting on myself to be one of the winners.

Immediately after reading the rules and details, I texted Aaron and asked him if he thought I could go for it. Sheepishly, I was kinda wondering if he believed that I could actually do it. He totally jumped on board and said yeah! Why not get paid to lose weight? Sounds like a no-brainer to me! He also told me he knew I could do it and he'd do whatever I needed him to to help me get there. 

So that is my newest challenge. To lose 4% body weight from May 5 - June 2. 

It's now been 4 days straight that I've gotten my tush in gear and worked out, hit a shower right after, put on real clothes, and though I'm sore, and tired from being up with one or both of my kiddos, I have a new found energy - a peace - a restorative outlook on who I am and who I working on becoming.

Working out doesn't seem like it would change that much in your life. It doesn't seem like taking 30 minutes would really make a difference, not in how I feel, how I look, or how I approach the day. But it does. It totally does. And that's why I knew that I had to join this challenge. It would be my first step into working on something just for me, but truly - it's never just for me and I know it will spill over and make me a better wife, a better mommy, a better homemaker, a better photographer, and the list really does and could go on.

I know that for me the challenge to become more in touch with the person I was created to be is something I want to take seriously. It's not easy. Just like giving up gluten after eating it my whole life and then realizing at about age 22 that it was wrecking my innards and was the main reason for all my gi problems was seriously hard. It challenged me to think about two things in particular: Do I want to be the type of person who satisfies myself in the moment - no matter the cost? Or - do I care about the me in 10 years that will be thankful for choices I make today and will effect my life and happiness for the many tomorrows on the horizon? 

I'm choosing the latter. At least today anyway. And hopefully tomorrow.

Aaron told me that in a book he read about creating a habit, you just have to change one small thing to make a really big difference over the long run. Obviously, this is why crash diets and such are over before they've begun. Adding in a 30 min workout to my life and then just watching what I'm putting in my body is doable for me and not a huge change from what I currently was doing. Being more conscious of what goes in my body will be the big thing and I'll want it to be something that will help me the following day in my next workout and not make it even harder.

Cheers to a bright month of struggles that await but gratitude for the blooming that is already happening.

{tuesday}

It was 5:30 am and Bridget started scratching annoyingly loud at the patch of carpet behind our recliner in the room. My instinct kicked in and I thought she just might poop in our room or something, so I threw off the covers, and to my surprise almost tripped over Ami who was curled up in the doorway and laying on the floor. To add to the chaos, she was naked except for her pull-up which isn't how she went to bed last night...

I told her I'd be right back and that she could crawl in bed with daddy while I took Bridge out to go potty. We snuggled until about 30 minutes later when Ami said the scariest words any parent could hear, especially while laying in our sanctuary of sheets and a quilt. "Mom, I need to throw up." Quickly, I picked her up, rushed to the bathroom, tripped over Bridget (darn dog), and set her up by the potty only to notice she had already thrown up all down my shirt and on my pants. Sigh.

That's how the day began.

Poor kiddo.

There's really nothing more difficult as a parent than seeing your kid suffer or feel ill and not being able to do anything about it. It's heartbreaking. In moments like this - I was looking for room to see beyond the difficulty -- to see how this doesn't have to throw the day off but how I can be a more compassionate momma. Trust me, sometimes this isn't my first instinct, but I'm really working on it. Amity and Ever are worth it. In these moments, the kind of love you have for your child that you never knew existed until they came into being is really brought back into view.

She seems to be doing better but I'm convinced that this rainy weather and gloomy skies were planned so we could watch movies and snuggle today -- taking it easy and helping everyone to be on the mend for the rest of the week.

Today I carried her. I carried her all the way up the stairs like a baby and she hugged me tightly, fingers in her mouth, snuggling like she used to when she was oh-so-tiny. She has been napping in our bed (it's a special thing ya know) so that Ever can consistently nap in his crib. This is also going really well.

But when she came downstairs just a bit ago after napping, she told me that her pants got a little wet from her water. It wasn't her water... and we have entered into this new phase of kidhood/parenting known as lying. I asked her multiple times if it was water or pee and reminded her that I wouldn't be upset if it was pee but that it would not be good to tell a lie and that would make me upset.

She stuck to her story. From the moment we entered the bedroom I knew it wasn't water.

Kids pee in beds. In fact, it's really no big deal and she naps in undies all the time now and this very rarely happens anymore. But it is a big deal to lie about it. So we are starting that discussion and it's not an easy one.

I hugged her and told her that I loved her. I told her that lying is something that is very hurtful and that it would always be better to tell the truth, even if you're afraid of getting in trouble. We hugged again. She squeezed me really tight and said she was very sorry. And I know she was.

Today isn't the kind of day to drive that point home any further. She started off not feeling well and we'll try again tomorrow and see if lying needs to be addressed again.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes, especially on days like today, I've often lived life like it's an emergency. These words were in my book today and I am thankful they came into play on such a day as this, to be a reminder for me.

"The skin's tugged hard by the rush of time and I say it aloud in current pounding past, words I need like water: Calm. Haste makes waste. Life is not an emergency. Life is brief an it is fleeting but it is not an emergency" (pg. 73).

As I grabbed hold of my bedding, found some clean undies and pants for my girl, I took my time tidying up the room a bit, reminding her of how much I love her and slowly walking down the stairs together.

I am thankful for her heart. I am thankful for her love. I am thankful for soon-to-be freshly, cleaned sheets for tonight!

Today's post feels pretty scattered, but I think I'll come back to it and remind myself of the importance to live life like it's not an emergency because kids will get sick, babies won't nap well (poor bub has had a pretty tough napping day), but it's alright. It's totally alright.

{balance}

Trying to find a way to keep all the things in my head in order, accomplish all that I've set out to do for the day, while being a fun, attentive, and compassionate mom, not to mention the chef of the home, who wears her jeans at least 2 days a week instead of sweats or yoga pants, and makes time to genuinely listen to what's going on in my husband's life/work, is just as hard as it is to break this sentence up so it's not so incredibly long and definitely qualifying as a run on without a doubt.

Balance.

I'm not too great at it.

I'm trying to get back into a workout routine now that bubba is 6 months old, summer is right around the corner, and I want to feel great in summer dresses and shorts. I tried to workout twice today already and both times kiddos woke from their naps (opposite kiddo each time) and it had to be put on hold. I'm still in the world of pumping almost exclusively now as Ever has refused to nurse even at the 3am feed the last 3 nights and first thing in the morning when he wakes up. Pumping takes up 20-30 minutes of every nap, leaving me very little time to get that workout in as well as all the other to-dos: laundry, dishes, picking up, wiping down the bathroom, getting dinner prepped and in the oven, taking the dog out, and the list goes on.

When I left teaching I left feeling pretty defeated. I felt like teaching was truly a profession where there is always more work to do or be done. You can never really be all caught up until that lovely day in June when the room gets locked for 2+ months. Being a mom and considering that my main "job" though is very much the same.

A lot of friends and family members have told me that all the little chores can wait, that it's ok to leave things messy, because tending to kids is a huge job all on its own and there will be a time when they are older and the chores and such will get done and easier. I both find this comforting and really challenging. Of course if Amity wants to play or do a puzzle together and the only thing I was going to do otherwise was the dishes, I should choose to hang out with my daughter. Often that's the choice I make. However, there's something to me (maybe still the teacher in me) that likes to have the list in my head somewhat checked off for the day. In teaching the principal gives you continual feedback, teammates give you feedback, and you are constantly able to know where you measure up, what areas to improve, what areas you're doing great at and you can relax about. Motherhood leaves me longing for that. Of course Aaron tells me I'm doing a great job but there's no written form at the end of each day giving me constructive feedback or criticism on all the other jobs that come with being a mom. So sometimes, I want to tell Ami that right now I really need to do the dishes and a lot of times that is true - dishes need to be done so we have something to eat dinner on and breakfast the next day...

It's also a way for me to take a moment and do the things I think I need to be doing since I'm home. Taking care of the home and the kids. Saying to myself, "I'll find time to work out and read for myself when Aaron is home." Truthfully though, it's really tough. It's tough after a day of kiddos since 6am to be motivated at all to go burn off some calories after 5pm and usually it's likely to be closer to 8pm.

So how do I balance that? How do I make time to take care of me and focus on the things I want to do for my health and well being, but still manage to get everything else done?

My friend Jolene would tell me to make a list and get all this stuff outta my head and on paper. I think that's a good first start. Crossing off a list always makes me feel accomplished and is easy to analyze at the end of the day... but the struggle is making time for writing the list in the first place.

Hmmmm... maybe I'll try getting up at 5/5:30 and see if getting things in before the kiddos/hubby wake up might be helpful. I'll think on that and maybe move in that direction.

Any thoughts on balance that I can incorporate?

{spring and a new way to live}

"Go with your gut"

Why is that the hardest thing for me as a mom sometimes but it never steers me wrong? The last few days, I've set aside my type A personality a whole heck of a lot and ignored the clock. I know what you're thinking... Kim? Ignoring the schedule in her head? Heaven must be on its way, but alas -- it is true. I have watched Ever like never before. I have watched his hunger cues like I did when I held him that first week and was just getting to know his tiny face, chubby fingers, and soft skin. What amazes me is that if I had stuck to my thought of "don't feed him but every 3.5-4 hours because he's old enough now to take a good feed at those times and if he eats more often then he'll be a snacker and I'll be up forever or never get him on any sort of routine," I would not have known that sometimes he's hungry (like a beast even) at 2.5 hours and other times can wait over 4 for his next bottle.

I'm in the world of the pumping mommas now and all but am hooked to a milk machine and listening to sound of the drone except for nursing little man when he first wakes up and if he wakes in the middle of the night. This is due to a decision recommended by our pediatrician and the lactation nurse at the hospital we delivered at simply because little Ever is too busy to actually get the hind milk from momma and won't nurse without fighting or for more than 5-10 minutes. So, taking this approach to watching my baby, I decided I'd get all that milk to him through bottles and move them around as he watches the world, smiles at his sister delightfully, and just go with it. Is it a little inconvenient? Yes, truthfully it totally is. Is it becoming a little more of a thing and just how we roll? Definitely. That's ok. This won't be my life forever or his for that matter. Before he knows it, he'll be drinking Fresca with his big sis out of "big kid" cup and laughing about how fun it is. *tear*

The true benefit from doing bottles? I know exactly how much milk this kid is getting now and that to me is a blessing.

--------------------------------------------------

This excerpt from One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp left me in a very contemplative spot last night and I want to remember this so I'm going to type it out here:

"Why would the world need more anger, more outrage? How does it save the world to reject unabashed joy when it is joy that saves us? Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn't rescue the suffering. The converse does. The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest Light to all the world. When we lay the soil of our hard lives open to the rain of grace and let joy penetrate our cracked and dry places, let joy soak into our broken skin and deep crevices, life grows. How can this not be the best thing for the world? For us? The clouds open when we mouth thanks" (p. 58)

This is true in my life, and I've seen it work miraculously. When I have stayed in the darkness, let it penetrate who I am and what I am about, even for an afternoon -- people I love are affected, people I encounter are affected, and no one can see the joy I really do have for so many things I have been given. I wonder if when I focus so much on myself, this also is part of the problem. When I wrap up my world around me and don't bother to see that my life will never be just about me, I miss the big picture and miss out on a lot of amazing joy in my days.

--------------------------------------------------

Today I took the kids to the garden center and we picked out two different kinds of ground cover plants: Blue Star Creeper and Elfin Thyme. Amity was so extremely excited to pick them out, help push the cart back to the car, and welcome them into our backyard project space. She delights so much in the beauty of nature, the smell of the seasons, and the feel of getting dirty and being a part of the outdoors. We rushed home before the afternoon storm hit and I got the kids both down (hallelujah) for their naps and got the little guys all planted around our recently reworked patio area for the trashcan and grill to be housed.

I am thankful for the rain.

I am thankful for the smell the rain leaves behind for the rest of the afternoon.

I am thankful for my daughter's laugh.

I am thankful for new life in the form of green leaves.

I am thankful it's spring.

Doing small things like we did today by heading out to see friends this morning, accepting a 30 minute nap from Everest afterward, and making the most of some extra time to head to the garden center was refreshing. It really was good for my soul instead of trying to get him to nap longer and missing the signal from him that he was in fact hungry (he downed 6.5 oz after that 30 min nap!). This weekend is bound to be great and I'm so excited to share in some of these sweet moments with Aaron too.

{one thousand gifts}

That's the name of the book I began reading with my small group through church. I'm incredibly slow at getting really any of it read and part of that is due to the fact that Everest is 6 months and needs me a lot of times, and Amity is 3 and also needs me a lot. There's only so much of momma to go around, let alone time to grab a book and flip through a few pages.

This book is dense too. It's not like a Jodi Picoult, or any of the other series (Hunger Games, or Divergent are two of my recent favs) I've been into lately where I can pick up, put down, pick up, put down (repeat 100 more times) until I finish it. This book in particular is full of things that are really challenging for my heart. It's almost uncomfortable because it makes me think about the spaces in time when I am alone and how do I spend those moments?

Last night, after quite a long day with the kids, an evening of backyard redo with the hubby, and exhaustion from three pretty rough nights with multiple wake-ups from Ever, I was confronted with the thought to read or not to read as I crawled into bed around 9:00. It's almost an uncommon thing lately for Aaron to not be reading before bed, or really for a good chunk of any evening the last few weeks and I want to be the kind of person who can pick up a book too and just take even 5 minutes to see what it says.

So I did. I picked it up and to finished up the rest of chapter 2. It's all about gratitude -- eucharisteo.

Consciously choosing to be thankful to God in the midst of whatever is going on in your life. Things have been hard. Six months of not great sleep effects me like I really wish it didn't... I am a crankier, moodier, touchier, and just more tired person and I sometimes turn my back on advice like this -- be grateful, be thankful. But not last night.

I lay there in bed after reading and for the first time in a long time, I prayed. I prayed over my son and thanked God for him. I thanked God for his health, for his ever-growing curiosity. He is so strong and such a beautiful boy and I thanked God for all that I see in him and am excited to watch him become. I thanked God for my daughter, Amity. Her spirit is like a strong wind with the smell of lilacs that are currently in bloom. I thanked God for her unconditional love, even when I have had to let her tend to herself to care for her brother, or I've lost my temper and snapped at her when I've been tired and in a bad mood. I am so thankful for the little lady that she is and that even though she looks so big on the outside that she doesn't hesitate to curl up in my lap and suck on her fingers, wrap her marmie around her face, and snuggle in close to read a story together before nap and bedtime. I thanked God my kids still nap. A big thanks for that one. I am thankful that my kids go to bed easily and don't really ever put up a big fight about it. I am just extremely thankful.

Often I've found myself ignoring all the gratitude I could have or do have because I want to just complain or be heard but that gets me no where and makes me feel isolated, alone, and distant from those I love. I don't want to spend my days like that. These days - the hard ones - the easy ones - they are all so tiny in the big picture of life. And so... I realized I haven't been grateful for all I've been given and I thanked God for all the unmentionables I knew He knows.

I thanked God for my husband, Aaron. For his companionship, his little quirks that sometimes make me crazy, his devotion to our kids and our family, and for his love for me at the end of every day when he walks in - never knowing how many days it's been since I've showered or put on makeup. I thanked God that he gave me a man that cares about the stuff that really matters.

Maybe this was coincidence, but I tend to believe not, because for the first time ever last night, Everest slept through the night! As in slept from 7pm-6am! That's never happened before! Could it be because for the first time in a really long time I thanked God for him? I don't know. I'll never know. Does it make me feel like he really heard me though when I did thank him and prayed that life would become a little more manageable and that my boy would start figuring out sleep a little more? Um yes, a big yes - it does. And here I am -- sitting at the kitchen table, pumping milk for that bubba and typing away while both babes are sleeping. It's peaceful, calm, and just what I needed. I'm so glad I asked for this.

Cracking open that book again tonight. I have a feeling it will challenge me in all new ways. That's a good thing. I always have liked a good challenge.