{being a good mom when you're really angry}

This morning was rough. The day started as usual, like most days, where the boy sleeps in, the girl is up and jumping on us by 6:30am. She was especially wired and we had to retreat to the basement after 30 minutes of trying to play quietly. This allowed momma to get some editing done, and Ami Lou to get out her wiggles without constantly being reminded to calm down or to please play more quietly. Sometimes I wonder if those words even mean anything to kids. ;)

I was trying to multitask and be productive with photography, but also sell some items online I'm no longer using and we need to purge to help make our space a little less chaotic. Elated, I found someone interested in buying my newborn poser for 1/2 of what I bought it new + a blanket I've used for lots of shoots to go with it. We confirmed that she'd come pick it up this Saturday. Woohoo! While I was on a roll selling stuff, I thought - might as well list a few other items we've been talking about.

In a matter of about 10 minutes my whole demeanor changed. I went from feeling happy, productive, and proud that we were going to declutter and make some mullah, to anger, frustration, and sadness. Girly had decided it would be fun to catapult off the futon onto the poser (the one I just virtually committed to sell and was in practically mint condition) and due to her impact it now has a 5 inch split in the leather on the bottom and packing peanuts started to spill out.

Oh man. I was so tempted to scream.

Here's the conversation in my head "Are you kidding me? What the heck were you thinking? I JUST SOLD THAT!! This is super frustrating and I'm soooo mad at you? This is why we can't have nice things! Agghghhghghghg."

Thankfully I just left the room to calm down and think through what I really wanted to communicate to her which sounded something like this. "Mommy is really frustrated. Do you know why? (wait for answer) Sometimes when we mess up it's the best thing to apologize and help make it better. It's our jobs to try to take the best care of the things we have but sometimes we make mistakes and things can get broken. I understand that and I love you."

We then duct taped it together. I'll write the photographer later today asking if she'll take it still for 1/2 of what we had agreed on.

Am I still frustrated? Yes. Am I still pretty angry? Yes. But is it worth demeaning Ami or continually making her feel bad for an honest mistake? No. Never.

Sigh. So today I will work to remind myself that I have lots of opportunity today to show her love and to choose forgiveness. Her heart and her knowledge of my love for her far outweigh the frustration of making less money than I had planned.

{the new awesome}

My days aren't always what I pictured they would be as a mommy. Pinterest is a huge disappointment sometimes in that arena.

I'm learning each day to define what is awesome about my life right now in a new way and that is extremely intentional on my part. I could find a dozen reasons why my days aren't awesome or how they are sometimes mundane, lonely, filled with tantrums, and the opposite in my mind of what I want them to be and what I pictured 20, 10, 5 years ago -- and even 5 hours ago!

Amity has been testing my patience to the max lately and argues about naps, food, sitting on the counter, wiping her tush, you name it. We could dance in a power struggle some days every 15 minutes. But I won't. I refuse to let negativity seep into my day and her day and suck all life from it. Sometimes we just need space from each other (since we're basically the same person at different points in life you know), and that is a blessing. Getting that though and helping her understand that she may need that too can be tough. This whole parenting thing that goes on 24/7 - truthfully is just plain hard. It's hard to redefine awesome. It's hard to keep doing the work of a momma when I just want to have 5 minutes where everyone is awesome and happy (and really I want a WHOLE day of that).

What has been key for me in transforming my thoughts is my tribe. Momma tribes exist everywhere and if you're not part of one and you're a momma to little ones, in my mind it is the KEY to sanity and camaraderie. I just can't do this alone, and I don't want to.

By exposing my vulnerabilities, the tricky parenting fields I'm navigating to my friends, I find out that I'm totally not alone and that they TOO are choosing to find the awesome within the chaos. For them, it can also mean sleepless nights, or babies that will not be put down for any length of time and their biceps are probably going to fall off. My tribe shares stories of embarrassing fits that make them leave stores, restaurants, and playdates. I am not alone.

We are all in this together. I could wallow in the moments that didn't go well or set my sights on the ones that made my heart soar and help me fulfill this calling of shaping, forming, and molding these young people hearts with tenderness and love as much as I'm able to give it. I'll choose the latter today --- and hopefully tomorrow too.

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Moments of joy and awesome today so far:

* Amity jumped right in the middle of the action at Storytime and created extra room in an overcrowded group to allow a little boy room to hold onto the parachute at the end.

* Everest ate 3/4 of a banana, 1/2 a granola bar, 1/4 of a grilled cheese sandwich, and 5 goldfish all before noon and was a peach because of a full tummy

* Ever loved jumping while I lifted him up and down until my shoulders ached during the storytime songs

* Amity spelled out her name as we read her "Lost My Name" book and identified the letters as we went along

* They played together in their little kitchen without a peep or argument for 10 straight minutes

* I got in my workout and a quick shower before our day officially began

* Both of them are napping for the moment and I'm having a moment to blog which feels oh so good.

{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.

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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.