Who I Am And Other Life Epiphanies

We spent the weekend at a spiritual retreat: Shawn, the kids and I, and our church group.  Lent is such a special time of devotion and self reflection, a time to focus on the present and leave the outside noise behind. A time to reprioritize your goals and expectations and let go of anything that might be distracting you and your relationship with God.  It is a season of prayer and thanksgiving, a lesson in faith and discipleship.  It is, in every way, the most perfect time to get away for a few days and devote yourself completely to your spiritual journey.  And that is what we did: with our children by our side and a beautiful group of friends who are on the same path, we spent three days strengthening our values and replenishing our souls.

There were so many lessons learned, so many truths uncovered.  For me, personally, I feel that I learned the value of being true to myself and who I want to be in this life.  More importantly, who God wants me to be. One of the speakers at the retreat spoke at length about connecting who you are on the inside with who you show on the outside.  She encouraged us to really examine ourselves: what we value, how we see ourselves, how our own personal perceptions of who we are compares to what other people think of us.  She asked us to think of one word, one word that we would use to describe ourselves and what we hope to represent in this life.  The first word that came to my heart was PEACE.  I want to exude peace.  I want to allow the love and strength and courage that I feel in my heart, the love and strength and courage that I receive from my family and my career and my passions and my love for Christ to be so strong and powerful that peace just flows out of me and onto everyone around me.  I want my face to be warm, to shine with radiant happiness. I want to bring peace to others with my actions and my words, to be the kind of person who serves as a refuge to those who are in need. And I want all of this peace to come with a quiet and calm serenity.  That the peace I exude is not accompanied by a wall of words, by loud and boisterous tones, and not in overwhelming waves.  But that it be calm and slow and genuine.  That it invites those around me to share in the peace, that it quiets all of my anxieties and fears and propels me forward into each and every new adventure.

The reality is that I am a far cry from being the peaceful soul that I strive for.  God made me loud and anxious and full of vibrant life.  He made me strong and fearless but with a rambunctious nature.  Being still and present, being a good listener with a quiet affect: it is a challenge for me.  One of my favorite quotes is by Jack London:

"I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste me days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time."

There's a connection, I learned this weekend, between who I WANT to be and who I AM.  Embracing who I am, with all of my flaws and inconsistencies, while still soul searching for my potentials and inspirations, is a beautiful and emotional process.  I can still be the "superb meteor", an energy so alive and free that I exude that "magnificent glow".  But I can learn to draw from a more quiet and peaceful place inside my soul, a place that only God can strengthen and bring forth.  I can learn to lead with my faith, to step back and listen rather than jumping ahead at lightening bolt speed.  I can evolve into a person who lives big and loud but who does so with the peaceful energy I feel inside my heart.

We left that beautiful retreat center on Sunday with hearts on fire, new affirmations made, a family more solid and connected. When I look at my life and the people I am blessed to be with, I feel grateful and humbled. They ground me, inspire me, and motivate me to continue to fight my way through this life. I feel closer to who I am, who I want to be, who I aspire to grow into. A perfectly imperfect peace loving soul, a loud and colorful warrior who strives to exude peace and humility. With a servant heart, I move forward, ready to use my thoughts and answered prayers, ready to take on the world.

P.S.  This photo is one of my favorites.  It so perfectly shows the art and beautiful chaos of parenting.  Going on a retreat with a gang of babies is not easy but together we made it work.  What a blessing these babies all are, what an inspiration it is to see all of this activity!

You're Gonna Hear Me Roar

Isabelle has a fall break from school this week, giving us a 3 day weekend together.  While Shawn caught up on some work around the house, I decided to take the kids out for the day: a lunch date, some shopping, time together.  I was on a mission to find a pair of jeans, "transitional jeans" I call them.  You know, the jeans you wear after you have a baby because nothing else fits and you can't look at your maternity clothes one second longer and your leggings are starting to wear out their welcome?  Those jeans.  We ate lunch, the girls minding their manners while River slept in my lap the whole time.  I bought Brees a pair of sparkly pink Mary Janes, her choice, to celebrate the fact that she FINALLY pooped in the potty.  A whole week with no accidents and I don't think I've ever been so excited about poop before.  Isabelle got new makeup to go with her Halloween costume, she's going to be a vampire this year.  And River got a stuffed hippo picked out by his big sisters.  They decided he needed his own stuffed animal since, being the third child and all, he has no toys of his own.  A travesty in their eyes.

I piled them all into the dressing room: River cooing in the stroller, Brees attempting to hang from the ceiling, Isabelle posing in the mirror, and a huge pile of jeans for me to try on.  One by one, I went through the pile, jumping and stretching and sucking it in as I attempted to discover what size this new body of mine is.  My time was very limited: River would need to nurse soon and it was only a matter of time before Brees tried to make a run for it.  I didn't have time to obsess over my body, to pick myself apart, to look too closely into the mirror and judge myself harshly.  Just find a pair that fits, find a pair that makes you feel semi-human again.

The whole time I plugged away at my transition jean mission, the girls sang their new favorite song, "Roar" by Katy Perry, their shrill little girl voices filling that dressing room up to the brim:

Now I’m floating like a butterfly
Stinging like a bee 
I earned my stripes
I went from zero, to my own hero

I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar
Louder, louder than a lion
Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me roar

They were singing about being confident, believing in yourself, embracing who you are.
They were looking at themselves in the mirror and seeing beauty, smiles, happiness.
They were being fearless and innocent and real.

They were singing and dancing and being so carefree that there was no way I could do anything but follow suit.  They were inspiring me, without even knowing it, to be proud of myself and my body.  The chaos that filled that room, the sheer ridiculousness of trying on clothes with three kids in tow, I just had to laugh and embrace the moment.  I didn't see any flaws in my body in that mirror.  All I could see were three beautiful, wild, loving babies that have made my heart whole.  All I could see was a family full of love and imperfections and life.  All I could see was myself picking up a pair of jeans, high fiving my daughters, and dancing my way right out of there.  It was crazy beautiful.

A few of my favorite photos from this week:

 

The Fourth Trimester

A friend of mine shared this post with me last week, encouraging me with these words: "In your arms is right where that baby belongs. Those moments pass entirely too quickly. Cherish them while you can. Don't resent their need for bonding. Revel in it". I read each word as River napped on my chest, his skin next to mine, his rosebud lips pressed close to my heart.  It was the perfect post at the perfect time, a mama and a baby learning each other and navigating through the haze of infancy.  Each day stretching before us in a series of two hour cycles, nursing and rocking and swaying, a baby protesting every single time I try to put him down.  His swing and boppy pillow and bassinet go unused as he has found great comfort and permanent residency in my arms.  He's my third baby, most likely my last, and this article had me nodding my head in agreement, solidifying what I've been experiencing these last few weeks.  I've stopped trying to put my baby down, I've surrendered to his need to be next to me.  River and I: we are enjoying every minute of our fourth trimester together.  

"The concept of the fourth trimester helps us to understand the transition a newborn must make over their first few weeks earthside and once we understand we find so many ways we can help – but to me the most important facet of the fourth trimester is parental understanding and empathy, once that exists everything else will flow naturally".

Sarah Ockwell-Smith (Mother to Four, Parenting Author and Founder ofBabyCalm Ltd)

The fourth trimester: an idea that encourages parents to practice empathy with our infants, to understand that the reason they cry when we attempt to put them down or leave them alone is not because they are difficult or challenging but because they are adjusting to life outside the womb.  Babies go through an extremely disorienting time as they leave the warm, dark, confined in utero space and become part of the outside world, suddenly bombarded with light and noise and an unlimited amount of space that their reflexes can't quite handle yet.  Those days that we've all experienced, when the baby refuses to be anywhere but our arms: this article encourages us to embrace them and revel in our baby's need to bond.  It reminds us to practice patience as our babies find their way into life on the outside.  

The idea of the fourth trimester is a concept I find so beautiful and real, an idea that rings true to our family. I have held my son and rocked him, worn him, nursed him and slept next to him from the moment he was born.  Learning from my mothering successes and failures with the girls, I've stopped worrying about time and all the pressure it carries with it.  My only concern for the time being is to be completely in the moment, to love my infant in the way that he needs to be loved.  And right now, in this phase of his life, his primary love language and basic instincts revolve around physical touch.  

In reality, our fourth trimester will evolve as I leave the nest in a couple of months to head back to work.  I will no longer have the luxury of spending every waking second with my baby, I will be forced to entrust him in someone else's care as I resume my job as a nurse. Maybe that's why I jump into this role so wholeheartedly, maybe that's why I'm able to look at this crazy and exhausting phase in such a positive light.  This is my time, my time to be everything to this little boy, to hold him and soak him in.  When friends and family urge me to put him down, warning me that I might "spoil" him if I hold him "too much", I shake it off and hold him even tighter.  Soon enough, our fourth trimester will come to a close. For now, I'm going to live it up to its fullest.  I learned very quickly with my older children that this infant phase is over before you can blink and it should be enjoyed for everything that it is, even the hard days.  This is our time, River Scott, and as long as you'll have me, I'll be there.

 

Learning Our Rhythm

I sat at the kitchen table this morning with a cup of tea, typing out this post and feeling somewhat rested.  River has had his days and nights mixed up and he prefers to sleep all day and stay awake all night.  But the past 2 nights: they've been better.  He wakes every 2 hours to nurse and then lets me rock him right back to sleep.  This has offered us some much needed rest, regardless of the fact that I am waking up constantly to feed our growing boy.  Staying up all night with a wide awake babe is tough and I'm thankful for these 2 hour spurts of sleep this week.

Our days are flowing and moving to a brand new rhythm.  I get up with Isabelle in the morning and get her ready for school and on the school bus.  I usually head back to bed with the baby and steal an extra hour of sleep before Brees comes down the stairs and loudly proclaims "I woke up!!  And I'm hungry!!".  The mornings are an intricately choreographed dance between Shawn, Brees, the baby, and I as we make breakfast, nurse again, change diapers, drink tea, clean up spills, begin chores, abandon them as someone begins crying, etc.  Shawn and I weave in and out of one another, handing off cups and wipes and little people.  I am so thankful to have him home with us.

Brees is beginning to love her little brother more and more.   It has been difficult for her to learn the fine art of patience, to understand that Mommy can't always give her what she wants RIGHT NOW, to share her time and space and needs.  We've been giving her little jobs and tasks that are all her own, praising her for being such a "big helper" and she really enjoys the responsibility.  She gets really loud sometimes and has thrown some pretty epic temper tantrums but we are working hard at teaching her the difference between negative attention and good attention.  We are giving lots of positive reinforcements and encouraging her that this growing family thing is actually GOOD.  Last night, as we all said our prayers before bed, she leaned in and gave the baby a gentle kiss on his head and said, "Night night, River.  I'm your big sissy!".  And then I just melted.

Isabelle is a busy bee these days: fourth grade is hard work!  Between homework and dance class, piano lessons and 4-H club, this girl has a full calendar.  She keeps us busy in a whole other way from her little brother and sister, her multitude of activities and assignments and interests requiring a calendar all her own.  She loves to hold her little brother and can rock him to sleep like a pro. Our after school routine of snacks and homework at the kitchen table now includes a baby in my Mommy's lap or on the boob but Isabelle doesn't blink an eye.  She keeps Brees entertained with barbies and tea parties and the two of them are closer than ever.  I am grateful for her love and devotion to family.

River got his first real bath this weekend, an event that involved the entire family squeezing into the upstairs bathroom with cameras and cheers.  I had to bribe Brees with candy not to jump into the tub with him, bless her heart.  She is my new official bath time helper, overzealous at times but a big help nonetheless.  Shawn and I were both soaked by the time we bathed the baby and then Brees but it was one of those Norman Rockwell moments that you just cling to.  

I still can't believe that all of this is happening, that I am somehow deserving of all this love, that I have been given three beautiful and healthy children.  The days are busy and tiring and chaotic at times but they are good.  And though we are definitely in an adjustment period right now, I know that we'll get better and better at performing the complicated dance that is raising little kids, our movements more synchronized and filled with grace. We'll perfect our routine and it will evolve into an art form that fulfills each of us, the five of us weaving in and out, creating something beautiful.    

 

Leap Of Faith

Shawn and I are leaving for Houston in the morning to meet with the orthopedic specialist 
who will perform the surgery on the injured tendon in his arm.  We are still very unsure of 
the details surrounding this surgery but we will hopefully learn more tomorrow.  I've spent 
the whole afternoon packing and organizing and making sure that everyone has what they 
will need to get us through the next week only to laugh at myself and my overpacking, my 
only way to control a situation I have absolutely no control over.  Can you ever really 
prepare for life's uncertainties?  No, not really.  You can prepare your mind by remaining 
calm and level headed.  You can prepare your heart by vowing to be of service to those 
in need.  You can prepare your emotions by opening yourself up fully to the faith you 
have built your life on.  For we are strong enough.  We have all been given the tools we 
will need to get through this life, we have all been surrounded by the people who were meant 
to be in our lives for specific reasons.  We just have to believe in ourselves and the journey 
we were chosen for, we have to believe in the destiny we were chosen to fulfill.  I have 
no control over what will happen to my husband in the next few days.  But, I don't 
need control.  Not this time.  This time, I know what we are capable of.  This time, I know 
that we are strong enough.

The Year That Changed It All

This week marked the one year anniversary of Shawn's accident: an event that was 
completely life changing in every way.

After his accident, Shawn had to relearn how to live his life: he had to teach himself to
perform simple, everyday tasks, how to move forward with the use of only one hand.
He sustained very severe nerve damage, the extent of which we are still uncertain.
Nerve regeneration is an extremely slow and arduous process and every one of
Shawn's doctors advised us to be patient: his recovery would take years and he would
more than likely never regain complete use of his left hand.

Because the slow process of his recovery could feel frustrating, because he sometimes felt
like he wasn't getting anywhere despite all of his hard work, we started capturing little
videos of his progress.  We grabbed our Iphones, our camera, our computer, whatever
was handy and we filmed each and every little milestone.  We cheered when he learned to
tie his shoes again, folded his own shirt, lugged full trash cans with one arm and picked up
our little girls.  We documented each and every hurdle that this amazing man jumped
through, each week bringing bigger and better things.

And now, one year later, he stands before us stronger, more determined, completely
inspiring and full of life.  He was given a second chance at life and he took it and ran with it.
He beat the odds, not by chance or good fortune but through hard work and perseverance.  
It wasn't easy and we were not without struggle.  We experienced every emotion,
felt powerless, hopeless, and full of despair.  We questioned our future and if we could
weather this particularly gruesome storm.  When a person loses who they are, when
every single part of their soul is stripped and they feel as though they would have been
better off dead, it is heart wrenching.  I had to accept that there was nothing I could do but
just be there: I couldn't fix him, I couldn't give him all the answers.  All I could offer was
my shoulder to lean on, my time and my heart.  Just my support and love had to be
enough.  And now, looking back, I see that he felt the same way.  He couldn't be the man to
me that he once was, he had to redefine himself and the ways in which he fulfilled the
various roles in his life.  But he was there for me, he was present, he showed me that he
wasn't going to give up.  And all that hard work and love and effort was enough.  It was all
I ever needed.

He once told me, "Everyone has always looked at me as a positive person, full of faith and
not afraid of anything.  Now, they get to see me live that.  They get to see that attitude
in action".  His outlook on life is one of the millions of reasons why I love him.  I still
think about that day in the desert, I'm not sure that I will ever forget it.  I thank God
every single day for sparing my soul one's life, for allowing me this time with him, for giving
us this second chance.  We are so blessed to know this kind of love and we do not take that
for granted.  Not ever.  Life is precious and, when lived with the knowledge that it can in fact
be taken from you at any given moment, it is beautiful.  Here's to second chances, to
starting over, and to making the most of each and every experience.

Rock'n'roll Babymoon Adventure

I saw this print on Etsy last Friday: "Today, I have loved you for 1,424 days".  Shawn
was sitting next to me, reading a book and keeping my feet warm with his.  "I wonder
how many days it would be, if I add them all up, that I've loved you?" I wondered out loud.  

We did the math, smiling at each other when I announced proudly: "5045 days!!"

We've been loving each other, completely and hopelessly and imperfectly, for 5045
days.  How blessed we truly are.  And it was with the awe and wonder of that enormous
number that we set out this weekend on a rock'n'roll babymoon adventure.  My lover and
best friend and companion for the last 5045 days and our unborn son and me.

When I was pregnant for Belle, one of my coworkers asked if Shawn and I were going on
a "babymoon".  I literally laughed out loud, it sounded so silly to me, just the name
alone.  Looking back, I laugh out loud at myself and my clueless, childless 24 year old
attitude.  Of course we didn't need a babymoon: everyday of our lives together was
a babymoon!  All we had was each other, loving and living our lives completely immersed
in each other.  Cut to our second pregnancy with Brees, less time together thanks to fast
paced careers, a busy 6 year old, and the growing list of responsibilities that accompanies
your early thirties.  We embarked on a long weekend roadtrip, just the two of us, spent
some time at the beach, caught a Kings of Leon show, enjoyed a little quality time before
we would have to open our hearts and our lives to another little girl.  We began to
understand the importance of a "babymoon", fully aware of how much time had been
taken from our marriage in order to care for our child, knowing that the time would
continue to be stacked against us once we added another.  And so we grasped on to
our weekend away together and used the connection and strength we obtained from
that quality time to move us forward into the next phase of our journey together.

Needless to say, for this third time around, we REALLY get it.  Alone time is a rarity these
days and, despite our best intentions, we do not always MAKE the time as we should.  We
are guilty of not always putting our marriage first, focusing so much of our attention on
our girls, our home, and our careers that we rely on the unspoken strength of our love to
carry us through at times.  But, this weekend, we took the time.  We left the girls with my
dad and went away.  We talked without being interrupted, slept in, ordered room service,
and fell back into each other's arms.  We held hands at a Black Crowes show, singing along
to "Josephine" with tears in our eyes.  We had dinner with some of our best friends.  We
went to Jazz Fest and danced in the mud to "Lonely Boy".  We took our time, threw out
the schedules, and enjoyed just being Shawn and Liv.  It was our babymoom and, as cheesy as
I once thought that concept was, it was so needed and appreciated.  5045 days later and
that man still gives me butterflies, still makes me laugh like no other.

Shawn decided to set out and gather some festival snacks to get us through the next band.  

One of my favorite parts of Jazz Fest is the food and so I waited anxiously in my lawn chair 

to see what delicious treat he would bring back.  Would it be a shrimp po-boy?  A gyro?  

Maybe a bowl of red beans and rice?  None of the above.  He brought me chocolate 

covered strawberries.  I burst out laughing, what a random choice!  But he rationalized 

his decision in true Shawn fashion: "Babe, it's healthy and junk food all rolled into one!  

Both you and the baby will be happy!".  And so I sat under the beautiful Louisiana sky, 

listened to The Metermen and ate my fresh, chocolate covered strawberries with the 

biggest smile on my face.  What a smart husband.

There's a verse from The Black Crowes' song, "Josephine", that Shawn and I sing to each
other all the time:

No waiting for redemption, no leaving love behind
You got to know where you wanna be, it gets cold outside
It's too late to play it safe so let's let it all ride
Yeah, let's let it all ride, let it all ride

Marriage, though at times full of romance and bliss, is a job that needs attention and great
care.  It is a joining of two souls that requires constant vigilance.  There is no leaving
love behind, love must always be front and center.  And even though our lives get busy
and full, we must commit to setting aside that all important time for each other.  Whether it's
in the form of a babymoon or a late night discussion in the bathroom, we need that time.
"You got to know where you wanna be" and, babe, I wanna be with you.  Always.

Be Mine

Our Valentine's Day was simple and sweet this year.  Because it was during the same week 
as Mardi Gras, Valentine's Day really snuck up on us.  I found myself running through 
town like a mad woman on Wednesday gathering cards and teddy bears and baking 
ingredients to get prepared.  But we kept it real: store bought cards with matching pencils 
for Isabelle and Brees to hand out to their friends and classmates.  We sat around the 
kitchen table after dinner and put them together, trying our hardest to keep Brees 
from scribbling AKA coloring on every single card.  They were very pleased with their 
work.  On Thursday, I sent the girls off to school and daycare with their special treats, 
all decked out in pink, and promised them good things when we all got home that night.  
My patients all loaded me down with love: I received homegrown oranges, handmade 
cards, and glow in the dark rings for the girls.  Working on a holiday as a nurse is 
incredibly rewarding as patients shower you with love and appreciation.  Each and 
every house I went to that day reminded me of how thankful they were for my service.  It 
was incredibly enlightening.  When I got home from work, I was bombarded with hugs 
and kisses and cards dripping in glitter.  Shawn and I sent the girls outside to play so that 
we could set the kitchen table with all their special treats: cotton candy, little boxes 
of chocolate, singing cards (they are OBSESSED with singing cards) and lots of stickers.  
When they came inside, their little shrieking voices said it all: Thank you, Mommy 
and Daddy!!  I was the happiest Valentine of all when my sweet husband surprised me with 
the most amazing waffle iron, something I've wanted for a long time.  He even bought 
an array of toppings so that we could have a waffle supper extravaganza.  We made a ton 
of waffles with strawberries and bananas and ate until we were ready to pop.  Then we 
made brownies and had ice cream, too.  It was Valentine's Day, after all.  Bed time was a 
breeze that night as the girls were in a complete sugar coma.  And I fell asleep on the chest 
of the man I love, in a home filled with peace.  It was a really wonderful day.