Dear Momma, You Can Do This

I originally posted this almost exactly one year ago, today.

I left it up for - was it a day, maybe two?

And then I took it down. I had so much doubt, so much shame, so much guilt. I didn’t want anyone to read it, so it went back into the draft storage.

I found it the other day, and thought yes. Now it’s time to share this - this is a testament to how much I have grown this last year. How much more I have been able to separate from my depression, and to heal.

So read this story, and think about your own journey. Where are you at? Where do you want to be one year from now?

And how will you get there?

———

When I was struggling with postpartum depression, I wanted desperately to know that I was going to be okay. To know that just because I was struggling didn’t mean that I was doomed as a mom. I wanted to know that I could still mother my kids properly. I wanted to know that my life was still worth living.

My future was dark, even with my loving husband and beautiful healthy children. I knew I had so much to be grateful for and nothing to complain about. And yet I felt hopeless, and guilty for these thoughts and feelings. I wanted someone to show me the way out. The way felt too hard for me; not clear which direction I should go, let alone what the next step was.

I never wanted to commit suicide- I knew that I couldn’t take my own life. But I prayed to die. I prayed that God would take me while I slept so I wouldn’t have to live anymore. It was too hard to be alive and I felt like I couldn’t do it anymore.

If this is how you feel in this moment in your life, then this is for you.

              Dear Momma,

              You can do this. Everything feels so hard right now, even the simple acts of getting out of bed and feeding your kids. You don’t have energy. You don’t have the words to explain how you are feeling. All the thoughts and emotions confuse you; where did they come from? Why do I feel this way? You feel guilty for thinking these kinds of things – what kind of a mom am I to have such dark thoughts? What kind of a mom am I to feel like leaving my husband and children? Do I love them even? If I loved them wouldn’t I want to stay with them always?

              Know that these are common thoughts, that many moms have them at some point. They are just hard to share and talk about because of the depth and darkness of them. We fear that we are the only one to have felt such a way, that nobody could ever understand how we feel. But the only way to get past them is to share them. Get them out in the open and off of your chest. You will be surprised that they aren’t met with a “How could you think something like that?” Instead they are met with an understanding look and an “I know. I’ve been there.”

              Just because you think these things doesn’t mean that you aren’t worthy, that you aren’t a good enough mom. It doesn’t mean that you weren’t supposed to be a mom or that you don’t love them enough. It simply means that you are struggling right now. It means something in your daily life is lacking. It could be that your husband has been busy and you feel overwhelmed with the kids. It could be that you aren’t taking enough time to take care of yourself, in the way that matters most to you. It could be that you aren’t taking the time to enjoy your kids, to find ways to have fun with them. Find what will pull you out of this darkness.

              Because there is light ahead. You might not be able to see it right now, but it is there ahead of you. Take any step in that direction, no matter how small it might be. As long as you are moving forward.

              And let me say again, that you can do this. It is worth the effort it will take.

Growing Up and Growing Old Together

We were so young. Those rounder faces, the naïve love that is shining out of our eyes. Babies. We figured we knew what life was all about and what we needed. I love to look back at these pictures and remember those feelings – of excitement, joy, pure love.

I used to feel cheated – that nobody told me what married life would be like. I felt wronged that no one had taken off my rose colored glasses and told me that it wouldn’t be easy.

It wasn’t for them to teach me. This was something that I had to go through myself. It was something that I had to learn on the way.

But also, I now treasure how trusting I was. How I so blindly believed that God was leading me and us in the direction that He wanted us. And look at where that has brought us today – how could I go wrong in simply choosing to trust? In believing that whichever way my life may go, He is guiding us and knows what is best.

Nic and I will grow old together, but we also grew up together. Seven years of learning together about ourselves and what we want our life to look like. Seven years of learning new pieces of each other and ourselves. No matter what we go through in life, whatever issue may come in between us, I am strong in our love. I know that we can get through anything, because we are in this together.

Folding Laundry Was The Dream

Growing up, I knew I would be a mom someday. I wanted my very own husband and my very own kids. When I babysat, I would dream about the day that I could do all of these things in my own house. One of my favorite things to do after I put the kids to sleep was to wash, dry and fold their laundry. I knew how happy this made the mom, but it was so fun to pretend that I was folding my own family’s clothes instead. My husband’s shirts next to cute tiny dresses and overalls. My super stylish tops next to baby blankets. I couldn’t wait for that moment!

Now that moment is here. I could be washing, drying and folding clothes all day long if I wanted to. But somewhere along the line, the dreaminess of that task faded. Now the stacks of clothes, both clean and dirty, sit in my laundry room. I ignore them until my husband wakes up for work and asks where some clean socks are, because he doesn’t have any in his drawer. I don’t sit there and lovingly fold every single piece of clothing like I used to. The only exception to this is when a new baby is due and I’m washing the newborn clothes- those are always exclaimed over, so tiny and so cute, with the incredulity that a fresh little body will soon be fitting into them! The everyday laundry however, is another story.

This is how many aspects of motherhood has been for me. I had my ideas of how I would be as a mom – that I would be happy, that I would read to them, that I would play games and snuggle all day long. How great I thought it would be to not have to go anywhere or do anything; just to be a mom. And not just a mom – to be a mom.

I think that these ideals that we have about how we should be are important. It’s important to look at them and use them as guidelines for how to show up in our days; how we want to be in order to feel like we’ve got this. But I also think it’s important to let some of them go. You thought that you would enjoy playing with your toddler more? It’s okay to admit that it gets kind of boring after five minutes; to do what you can right now, and to know that when she grows up there will be more to do together. Let go of the ones that hurt you, the ones that make you feel like you’re not a good enough mom.

Instead, focus on your strengths. The ways that you bring you to your children’s days. You may not be the mom that you thought you would or should be, but always remember this:

You are exactly the mom for your children, just as your children are exactly for you.

Now Is The Gift

I have been wiped out from the flu this entire week. Like literally, out for the count. I don’t remember the last time I was this sick. There should be a law against moms getting sick – or some extra immune system protection that makes it impossible for us to pick up these bugs. How hard it is to do the everyday tasks, let alone anything extra on top of it, when all you want to do is close your eyes. And sleep. For twenty-four hours straight. Or maybe a week. Or two.

It would be easy to start beating myself up right now, about all the things that were on my calendar that I didn’t get to. All of the things that I wanted to work on and accomplish this week in January, when my new years resolutions and goals are so fresh in my mind. When the energy and motivation for doing said goals and resolutions is still running high.

Instead, I am practicing a new theme for this year: contentment. Contentment with what this life of mine is. What motherhood is. All of the happiness and hard times that it brings with it. Being sick means resting, and doing the necessities. It means cutting out all the extras as I get better. What does that look like? What absolutely needs to be done every day? My kids need to be fed. My kids need to be loved. I need to be here, just here. Nowhere else.

How simple it truly is when you look at it like that.

Everything else is secondary.

The days are getting longer; the sun is beginning to shine through the trees a little bit earlier each morning, and set a few minutes later each evening. What a beautiful thing.

Here are some words that I am holding to as we deal with this round of sickness:

              “Whatever is happening in your life right now, is the best thing that could happen – even if it’s hard. Because it’s getting you to the next place. It’s teaching you something, giving you something. Let me fully be in the now, because now is the gift that I’ve been given.”

A Safe Place

His eye is bothering him again. He got something in it at school today and now that it’s approaching bedtime - and everything feels ten times more emotional – it sounds like someone is cutting his arm off. The first couple of times I was able to soothe and comfort him truly from a place of love, but tbh it’s getting kind of old now. I breathe in and out a few times and let my frustration go; once again, I open my arms to hold him close.

I want to be my children’s safe place. I want to be the one that they turn to when they are hurt, troubled or upset. I want them to know that I will always be there for them. That my hugs never run out. I want them to never question my love for them.

Between struggling with depression and the regular daily ups and downs, I wonder if they know this. Am I doing a good enough job showing them this? Am I remembering to have patience? Do I stop in the middle of my task to give them the hug that they are so clearly wanting?

Do they approach me, unsure of what response they will get? Or do they know that no matter what mood I am in, there is always love for them?

I think back to my childhood, and the feeling of safety and comfort that comes with the memories of home. Always knowing that I am loved and known inside of those walls. That the people accepted me as is, and there was always love and forgiveness.

I want to create that same safe haven, in our home and in my heart, for these precious gifts of mine.

Introverted Mom

The more kids I have, the more I cherish the quiet moments. I find that I get in my flow state, thinking my thoughts and dreaming my dreams. The silence envelops me and I get lost inside myself. There aren’t any complaints, arguments, or needs to attend to. Just me.

I want to find contentment in motherhood though, not just as myself with my own personal goals and dreams. I want to find that same level of happiness amidst the chaos, and with my kids. To actually sit on the floor with them and play a game. To take the time to notice those little moments of joy, and to cherish those as much as my quiet moments.

As an introvert, it makes sense that I get my energy from being alone. From delving deep inside myself and sorting life out. I want to take that energy and apply it to the hours as a mom, instead of viewing those mom hours as a drain of my energy. Because with kids, life isn’t quiet - and I wouldn’t want it to be. There would be something wrong if my kids didn’t fight, play, make noise or messes. They need to do all these things as kids, as they learn and grow up.

It’s a healthy sign that our house is full of life and noise, both the happy ones and the not so happy ones. It’s a good reminder for me to lower my expectations for the day. To really soak in those quiet moments when they happen, but to also allow the loud moments to fill a part of me that the quiet ones can’t.

Choosing To See Magic

Before you become a mom, there are ideas of how it will be. You think of the magic, the love; how incredible it will be to hold your own child. There is wondering of how it will go, but you don’t know what you don’t know, and the fear isn’t so big. You dream of the day that baby is born, of the day that baby will smile. All the milestones and all of the everydays in between. You can’t wait for motherhood to begin.

Then your first child is born, perhaps a second and third follow. It becomes your reality, this motherhood life. The everydays blur one into the next. Sometimes you stop and think, “The days fly by, but where do they go? What do I do with my time?” Perhaps you had postpartum depression. Maybe it was a colicky baby. Whatever it was, you lost the magic of motherhood. Life became just life, duller than you imagined it to be. The dreams of the future don’t come as easily and you become stuck in the monotony of the days. You feel a discordance with what you pictured before and what is now. Do you look with envy at the newly engaged, the newly married, the ones whose faces are glowing as they announce their due date? Do you wonder how they can be so happy, that they have no idea? When we have a vision of how something will be, it can be hard when it doesn’t turn out that way.

I look down at my baby boy, five months old and growing too fast. It’s so cliché because it’s so true! The lights from the Christmas tree reflect in his eyes as he reaches for the ornaments. It hits me in this moment, that there is magic here.

I used to feel angry – why didn’t anyone tell me it would be this hard? There were times that I would look at a newly married couple and wonder what happened to me – when did I become so bitter and hardened? But it’s merely shifting my perspective on life. Motherhood isn’t what I thought it would be and I have had to do much painful growing, but look at what I would’ve missed out on if I hadn’t taken that step.

I want to challenge you to find the magic again. This life may not be the picture-perfect idea that you had dreamed up, but find the beauty in this life that is yours. Choose to see the beauty in what is.

Christmas In My Heart

Christmas has taken a different meaning since becoming a mom. I used to wait and wait and wait for the day that Santa would finally come, waking up as early as possible to climb down the stairs and see the goodies that were under the tree. I remember trying to stay up and spy on Santa, but those heavy eyelids would close before he came. The excitement, anticipation, and joy!

Christmas morning still brings the excitement of unopened gifts waiting under the Christmas tree. But more than that, it’s watching the sparkle and wonder in my children’s eyes as they see what Santa brought them the night before. Their joy is so innocent; their belief in that magical man with a red suit and white beard is so true. It’s contagious – I can’t help but feel the magic myself.

It also makes me think of Mary, of the birth of Jesus. She was in a stable, delivering her child. No luxury, no doctors, nothing. And yet when I picture her holding her precious baby boy, her face shines with peace and joy. This is the true meaning of Christmas. A celebration of Jesus’ birth. Peace. Love. Joy. Contentment with what is. It’s being together with family and those you hold dear. It’s not about the biggest present under the tree, or an overstuffed stocking. It’s not the things that bring happiness, it’s the giving of them. Giving from a place of love.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, it can be hard for me to get into the spirit. There are always so many daily to dos, plus Christmas preparations on top of that, that it’s easy to get lost in the busyness. I’m preparing all the things and I forget to stop and think about what I’m actually preparing for.

I was sitting in the church bench a few weeks ago, listening to the little kindergarten kids sing Away In A Manger. Tears came to my eyes at the little voices singing so beautifully. A little off tune, not necessarily in time with the organ, but they were singing with their whole hearts. The sound was so true. That was a moment when I truly felt Christmas in my heart. It’s a feeling of peace, of contentment. Of love.

May you find Christmas in your heart this season.

Merry Christmas!

The White Snowmobile

The snow is flying behind him as he speeds across the open field. His white snowmobile gleams in the sparkling snow. Nothing ahead of him for miles, as he presses harder on the throttle and the engine roars. The thrill of speed and the cold air that is hitting his face. He grins at the glory of this moment.

“Mom! Look at my new white snowmobile!” He yells to me across the living room. I sit on the couch feeding Sebs, enjoying watching his imagination come to life. In reality, he sits in a footrest turned upside down, the legs of it being his handlebars. But I know that in his mind, it truly is a beautiful snowmobile, top of the line. In his mind this is real.

It’s amazing to watch them play, their imaginations soaring. There really are no limits here - Want to go on a lion safari in Africa? Let’s go! Should we head up moose hunting? Or maybe to Florida? Let’s go fishing! The rug is the water now, quick! Get in the boat or you will sink to the bottom of the lake!

One simple item, such as a footrest, holds so many possibilities. There is no room for boredom when there are endless opportunities all around them.

Do you dream, without any limits? Do the daily items around you inspire you with their limitless possibilities? It’s so easy to become stuck in life. What we see is what we get; this is what our life is. But to look at the same routine that we’ve been in and find a different way. To see if we can create a new option.

Find your own version of that gleaming white, top of the line snowmobile and let your imagination go!

Not A Teenager Anymore

No longer a teenager.

Blink

and the years have passed.

He loves me still

though I judge my body hard.

Too fat

Too big

Too much

Not enough.

Never worthy.

I know he loves me

Me

Not because I look

a certain way

But I forget.

to believe it. To trust it.

to trust my body. To love.

He loves me

More when I am confident

in myself.

When I know that

he wants me.

Not a perfect body,

not an unrealistic ideal.

This body has

birthed five babies.

Grows and nourishes

I am not broken

Because I don’t look

Like her.

I choose

to be whole

And to love

what is.

Today Is Friday

It’s Friday today. Weekends have lost the significance that they held in my teenage years. Friday used to mean end of the school or work week, with two full days ahead of glorious freedom! It was time to hang out with friends, stay up late, sleep in. Time to go shopping, find some adventure, or just sit on the couch and do nothing.

Now Fridays mark the end of a busy week taking care of the kids, days filled with lunch dates and naptimes, errands and get-stuff-done-around-the-house days. Saturday and Sunday look the same as the other days of my week. My husband is home on the weekend (usually), so that calls for some sleeping in together (kind of) and working at home together (kind of). But my main job is still there: taking care of the kids. I don’t get weekends off at this job.

As I write this, I don’t remember the last time I went to hangout with some friends for an evening on the weekend, with nothing more to worry about than what outfit I should wear. But why shouldn’t I still have that mindset? What if I changed out of my comfy clothes and put on a cute outfit, even if it was just to hang out with my kids in our living room? Why not put aside all the “should dos” and work lists for a Friday evening to hang out with my littles? Or actually go out with them and do something fun together?

I want to get back that weekend feeling, the one of letting go of life just a little and enjoying the moment that I’m in. Yes, my work comes with me in the form of five little ducklings, whether they are in a row or not. But me and my ducklings, we are going to enjoy each other this weekend.

Happy weekend!

My Lightbulb Moment

I lay in the quiet darkness. The kids are finally quiet in their beds after getting the last of their energy out before falling asleep. I hear the steady rhythm of Nic’s breathing next to me. I am so tired, weary to the bone, and yet sleep is avoiding me. In the stillness, my prayer rises up

              Dear God, I have nothing left. What do I do now? I feel empty inside- no love, no compassion, no feelings but this huge emptiness. I need love. I want to love. I don’t have any tears left to cry over this cold feeling. Where do I go from here?

I wake in the morning, still feeling that lack of life, of love, of emotion. A new day, but far from a fresh start. Where do I go from here? Where is that joy of living? Where is the love for my husband who wakes so early to provide for our family? Where is the compassion for my children, who only want to be loved? I lay in bed and feed Seb, searching for something. Anything.

I sit on the kitchen porch with my morning cup of coffee. It snowed last night while we were all tucked safely in our beds. I look around our yard – everything is covered in a fluffy white layer. I take my hood down and turn my face up to the sky, feeling the snowflakes land and melt on my cheeks. The tears start then. Tears for myself, for my husband, for our kids, who are dealing with a mother that struggles with depression. It’s not fair. Why me? These tears are cleansing, and I marvel at them – I feel! A deep sadness, so deep that words can’t describe, but it’s better than the emptiness of the night before.

I realize that I have been waiting for that lightbulb moment. The one where everything that I’ve learned and studied clicks into place and I am suddenly the person that I want to be. I’ve never resonated with the word perfectionist; that brings up images of people who are organized, everything down to the last detail. But I am a perfectionist in my own way – I expect myself to be a certain way, and when I fall short of those standards that I have set for myself, I have failed.

Here is my lightbulb moment: This is it.

This is life. I’m just me. Just a mom who doesn’t have as much patience as she would like. A wife who isn’t always understanding and loving. A friend who doesn’t always say the right thing, or reach out in the right way. A girl who has a long way to go in loving herself, in forgiving herself.

I look around at the snow again and I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. There is peace here. Forgiveness. Love. All the dirt, the dried leaves, the patchy grass is blanketed in a coat of white. I can let go of the ideals, and just let it be.

Blog Update

Hello everyone!

I’ve been MIA on the blog here for the past few months as we settle into life with our fifth child. Life gets a little crazy with a new addition: sleeping hours are fewer, hormones are wherever they want to be, the other kids need some extra love and attention.. in other words, priorities shift and some things get swept to the wayside for a while.

I’ve still been writing - that can’t be pushed to the side - but the actual posting of those writings has felt like a hurdle to be cleared. There’s always something else that needs to be done, whether it’s the stack of dishes to be washed or another level of candy crush to be beat, and I simply never sat down to post. the. post.

As Sebs reaches the four month mark (tomorrow?!) I feel like we are in more of a rhythm and I’ve been able to shift my focus again to my heart’s project. This blog, writing about motherhood, but also my business dreams of being a life coach. Of helping other moms to find their way out from the hopelessness. Of inspiring myself and others to truly think about what their life is now and how they want it to be.

My plan is to get back into a posting schedule, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I will be continuing the stories that I have been sharing up until now, but I will also be adding more actionable posts and other goodies about all things personality types, habits, life goals, and more.

I still don’t have a clear vision of where I want to go, but I think I’ve cleared a few branches out of the path ahead of me.

I’m glad you’re here with me for this journey!

P.S. If any of this sounds all “Let’s all just be sparkly unicorns and go where there are rainbows and butterflies.. and love!” I promise you it’s more than that. I feel these dreams so deeply in my heart and I can’t wait to share them with you.

P.P.S. Plus also, what’s wrong with a little bit of sparkly unicorns and rainbows every now and then?

Those Ambitions In Smithereens

In the quiet moments before the kids wake up, it’s easy to think about how I want to be. The kind of mom I want to be, how I want my day to go. My heart is filled with these dream feelings of the day ahead.

Then the first one comes creaking down the stairs, exclaiming, “Look, Mom! I waked up!” with the others following closely behind. My first minutes of interaction with them are usually aligned with my dreams from those quiet moments. I can greet them with a warm smile and a warm hug, pour them a bowl of cereal and sit them at the table to eat. Everything feels warm and fuzzy, and I smile to myself – proud that today is going to be exactly how I pictured it.

Guaranteed though, at some point during that morning my ambitions will be smothered to smithereens. They are kids after all, and their own persons, not some robot that is at my command. A cereal bowl will be spilt, when the last thing that I wanted to do this morning was mop my kitchen floor. A toy will be fought over, because duh. Someone will have a blowout diaper, and I have to admit that it’s hard to stay happy and joyful in such a crappy (pun intended) situation.

The constant balancing act between how I am and how I want to be. In my mind, I envision a happy, silly and energetic mom, who’s feathers don’t get ruffled easily. In reality, my feathers ruffle more often than I would like and I’m not as fun as I would like to be. I’m quick to react when I get upset.

But it’s okay! I don’t need to be perfect. If another mom were to tell me these things I would immediately tell her exactly that – You are doing an awesome job. Quit being so hard on yourself! We are so quick to judge ourselves hardest.

So today, give yourself a break.

And break yourself a piece of that Kit Kat bar! (Sorry, I couldn’t help it!)

Cheesecake Factory and Fishing

When you can’t go to cheesecake factory, you go fishing instead.

Let me tell you a little story. I had visions all day of dressing up in one of my new form fitting dresses. I wanted to wear it one more time while my big belly is all the figure it needs, because in a month I can promise you I will not be wearing anything that is remotely figure embracing. I thought of curling my hair and leaving it out of a messy bun for longer than 5 minutes. I thought of my husband dressed in nice clothes with his cowboy boots.

And then the food. There would be piles of pasta and chicken and vegetables in a creamy, spicy sauce. The best was going to be that amazing, mouthwatering chocolate mousse cheesecake for dessert. A whole evening of just Nic and I, to relax and enjoy and eat delicious food that I didn’t have to cook – or clean up after. Yes, it was going to be a perfect date evening.

However, Plan A fell through. I was mad. Disappointed. Irritated. Sad. And then I accepted that it wasn’t going to work out tonight no matter how much I was looking forward to it. That’s life with kids – sometimes things just don’t work out. Someone gets sick, a babysitter cancels, husband has to work late. It’s life. So once I got over that, I realized that even though the date would’ve been what I needed too, what I really needed under it all was to just spend an evening enjoying my life. Something to fill my heart and fill me with gratefulness, and I wasn’t going to get that feeling by sitting on the couch sulking.

I had my cry when Nic got home, and then we took the kids fishing.

That one hour out at the waters edge with my four plus one filled me. The look on Emerson’s face as he proudly held his very own fishing rod. Gus walking dangerously close to the water, like a ticking time bomb – I was waiting for him to take a little unplanned swim. Guin acting like such a big girl, “I just need to focus on my thing. I need to focus on getting a fish.” And our precious Rosie waking up from a nap and happily giving snuggles as we watched the older kids hold their fishing rods, patiently waiting for something to bite.

How can such a simple evening activity bring such contentment? We drove 10 minutes down the road. There were mosquitoes, the drive to the water was so rough that I thought we were going to leave a bumper and oil pan behind, and it smelled faintly of dead fish. We were gone for max two hours from the house. But that time filled me as much as my fancy date would’ve. I breathed in the fresh wet air as we drove closer to the lake and took the time to appreciate the beauty of the setting sun over the fields of rich black soil. I took pictures of the kids in their innocent enjoyment of this simple happening.

It brought contentment because I was present and looking for those little things that I was grateful for. It wasn’t anything crazy extraordinary, but it was special. We were together.

And I will get my cheesecake factory one of these days.

That Six Week Mark

“Everything looks good!” my doctor tells me at my 6-week postpartum checkup. “We’ll see you again next year, eh?” He smiles at me and closes the door. Yes, I think. Probably in another year I will be sitting here with another bean growing in my belly. But I have to get through this year first.

I’m 6 weeks postpartum, which means my body is “all healed”. I’m supposed to be “back to normal”. What is normal even? I sure don’t feel normal. My baby is still so small, that soft newborn cry still sounding at night when she’s hungry. She has started giving her first smiles but she makes you work for them, which makes them all the more precious. My body definitely doesn’t feel normal. My boobs are still so huge that half of my shirts don’t fit yet. My belly is still a soft bread dough consistency, sticking out farther than I wish it would. Energy levels are coming back up, but they sure aren’t at normal yet.

I wish at that six-week check, the doctor could wave a magic wand or snap his fingers and ta-da! Everything is back! My body would look how it did before I got pregnant, my hormones would be balanced, my mind would be clear. I would know my baby and my baby would know me. Our rhythm would be set and it would be smooth sailing. The kids would be used to this new addition to our family and wouldn’t be requiring more love and attention from me.

Unfortunately, that’s not how it works. I have to work through this. I will sign up for that workout class (eventually) to start losing that extra weight; stretching and 10-minute walks with the occasional yoga session will have to do until then. I need to put in the extra effort and love for my three big kids so they know that they are still #1 with me. I have to wake up for night time feedings until she starts sleeping through the night. That means running on less fuel the following day, but that’s okay.

We are working through this together. If I didn’t have to work for it, I wouldn’t appreciate it as much. I know that although this phase is tiring, it also goes so fast. Soon she will be gurgling and cooing, rolling over, laughing and attempting to sit up. So, I’m going to enjoy these slower ways and days and get as much snuggle time as I can. Forget that six-week mark and what is considered normal. This is my new normal.

I Treasure Him

This winter has been so good for our marriage. We’ve been on two family vacations, one to North Dakota for Christmas and then one to Florida. Those were fun and action-packed weeks, but the real relaxing happened on our vacation to the Dominican Republic when it was just the two of us. One full week of me. And him. No kids. No friends. No family. No one. Just Nic and Gloria.

It was incredible to just be by ourselves, it almost felt unreal. To remember how to be nicandgloria again, not Mom and Dad. We had a week to get into that rhythm without kids, to focus on each other, to talk about life or about nothing. To reconnect.

It has made our marriage stronger. Since that trip, I feel like I treasure my husband more. I think he’s funnier. I want to spend more time with him. I want to know what he has to say about allthethings. I feel that closeness that often gets lost in the shuffle of the everyday busyness of work and kids and everything. We prioritize being together again.

Today it has been seven years since we said “I do”. When we stood side by side at the front of the church, I thought I couldn’t possibly love him more than I did in that moment. But through these years of being together, we have grown closer and the love has deepened – sometimes it amazes me by how much.

We have been through darker days than I ever imagined we would go through. At times I felt cheated, that nobody told me it would be like this. But we have also had brighter days than I knew were possible, and the good far outshines the bad.

I would do it all again.

Where Are My Toes?

I have reached that point. I am so done being pregnant. I want to easily reach down and touch my toes. To even look down and see my toes. I am tired of having this big round belly getting in my way everywhere I go. It takes an extra oomph! To stand up and get going anywhere. My due date is one week away, but those seven days feel like seven years.

I have checked all the to dos off the ‘before baby is born’ list, the ones that I actually wanted to get done anyway! I don’t want to do any other things, fun or not, while I’m waiting for this baby. I am just ready to start labor, to be done with labor, and to be laying in bed with baby snuggled close on my chest. To feel his heart beating rhythmically against mine, to feel his tiny fingers wrap around one of mine. To breathe in his smell and hear that soft and so helpless newborn cry. My heart aches for this moment.

I feel as though I will be pregnant for the rest of my life, that this baby will never be born. I will be known world wide as The Woman Who Never Gave Birth or The Permanently Pregnant Lady. My baby will just continue to live inside of me, happy and content with no need to come out and see the rest of the world.

I know this isn’t physically possible, that baby will come sooner or later.

But can’t it be sooner?

Please?

Wired Differently

Nic and I are sitting outside on our porch step with cups of coffee in our hands. His: milk. Mine: Ghirardelli white chocolate powder and cream. With whipped cream on top. His: 1000 calories. Mine: negative 100 calories, obviously. It’s quiet and the kids are in bed. The summer evening is starting to cool a bit and the smell of fresh rain is in the air.

My mind is going a million miles a minute amidst all the peace and quiet, thinking of all the deep thoughts and questions I could share with him in this rare moment alone. “What’s your biggest fear?” “What would your dream life look like?” “How did that make you feel?” I want to reach his soul, the core of him. For him to ask these questions in return and to really want to hear my responses.

I look over at him and he’s staring off into the same distance as me. “What are you thinking?” I ask. “Nothing.” Comes his response.

NOTHING?! It’s not possible. How can you literally think about nothing? My mind cannot fathom this concept of thinking nothing. To just sit there. And not think? It doesn’t work. If I say I’m thinking of nothing, it’s because I don’t want to share what’s on my mind. There’s always something percolating in the back of my brain. Always some dots that are connecting and making sense, lighting up and whizzing around.

Our minds work so differently, and sometimes I wish he understood how mine worked a little bit more. That he could follow my train of thought and know where I’m headed before I even do. But if truth be told, I don’t always understand my own brain so how on earth can I expect him to understand it?

I also think that this difference brings a good balance; I get him to dig a little deeper and he pulls me back when I’m sunk too deep. If his mind worked the same as mine we would probably never get anywhere and just end up sitting in a fest for half of our lives.

There’s a reason we are wired differently.

Oh, Monday

Oh, Monday.

You are here again. You mark an end and a beginning. Another weekend gone – time with Nic and the kids at home, time spent working on the house, a couple days of sleeping in a bit later. A new week beginning, with the next weekend feeling off in the distant future.

You are a day to recoup, to catch up on the dishes that didn’t get done all weekend, to reorganize my mind for the week ahead. Sometimes I like you, but sometimes I really do not.

I usually don’t want to let go of the weekend. The days of family time -whether it’s working or visiting side by side- is still quality time. Although my main job doesn’t give me the weekend off (the kids sure follow me wherever I go!), weekends are for taking a bit of a breather. For giving myself permission to relax and find something fun to do with the kids.

But Monday means back to business. It means early morning wake up in order to meet that yellow school bus. It means Nic is out of bed before me, off to fight traffic on his way to the jobsite. And me? Well, today is one of those days; I would love to let the weekend linger just a little bit longer. I’m not ready to meet this week head on just yet.

I’m avoiding the kitchen (sink piled high with dishes), the bathroom (diapers need to be taken out in a bad way), the laundry room (let’s not even talk about the laundry piles). Today I am giving myself permission to ignore it a little bit longer. I will drink my coffee while it’s still warm and stay cozy on this chair with my pen and paper. I will enjoy some Rosie snuggles before Gus wakes up.

Because guess what? That work isn’t going anywhere. And neither am I.