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!

Another Chapter Begins

Today is the big day – a whole year older. Twenty-seven years since the day that I was born.

It’s so interesting to look back at these specific days in my life. The day that I started a new chapter in my book.

The year that I turned eighteen, I was in Italy. I had traveled with a handful of other Americans and Canadians from Finland to tour Italy for a week. A fun week spent adventuring and exploring with friends. Seeing new sites, new people, stepping out of my comfort zone. Looking back, it was such a carefree time. It’s easy to forget the things that I worried about then, or to minimize their importance.

And then the year that I turned nineteen. Nic was spending time at my home - how amazing it was to be together after several months apart! We both knew at this point that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together, and on December 1st, he asked me to marry him. We felt so grown up, that we knew what we wanted in life; we were so sure of our future together. Looking back on this too, it feels like such a carefree time! We were young, in love, and completely on cloud nine. Trusting that God was guiding us, with little fear of the years to come. Just being in the now.

These memories of past birthdays are mostly rose colored. I forget what the day to day life was and only the highlights remain in my memory. Those years I also had a rose-colored vision of the years to come – the exploring of Finland and parts of Europe, of finding myself, of how exciting to be getting married, to hopefully have children of my own.

Where are my rose-colored glasses now? The times that I struggle with depression, the future seems so dim. I know that I have so much to be thankful for, yet at the same time I have no hope for what the years ahead of me will bring. I don’t need my rose-colored glasses, but what I do need is joy. I want joy to color the days of this next chapter in my life.

What does this year hold for me? Where will I be at in life on the day that I turn twenty-eight? I want to be able to look back on this year and see growth. I want to see love; so much love. I want to see acceptance and enjoyment. I want to see that I gave it my all and that when I failed, I had compassion for myself. Another chapter in my book begins.

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.

It Starts With Your Thoughts

Motherhood just is. It’s a circumstance, a fact. I am a mom. I have five kids. I birthed these children.

It’s what I think about motherhood that makes it something. I can choose to think it’s hard or easy. Fun or boring. Happy or depressing. I can see it as an adventure, or something that keeps me from adventure. It’s not always easy to choose how you think about something, but it is a choice.

When I think thoughts like being a mom is hard, boring, or depressing, that’s what my experience of motherhood becomes. My brain is looking for all the ways to make those thoughts true. Have you ever noticed that when you are tired of your kids not listening to you, that’s when they really don’t listen to you? And the patience that is already so thin to begin with, gets even thinner? Whereas when you are coming from a place of love and compassion, you are able to respond to disobedience more calmly.

Our thoughts about a situation creates our emotions, our emotions create our actions, and our actions create our results.

It all starts with your thoughts. Many people will say Think positive! And it’s true, do think positive thoughts. But you need to believe those positive thoughts, or they won’t be doing anything for you. You can’t go from My life is too hard to I love my life! In one step. Find the in between thoughts that are true for you, such as I want to love my life, I am focusing on the things that I enjoy about my life, or I will find one thing today that I love.

Now I’m also not saying that we should be positive all the time; life is 50/50. Half of the time we will be feeling something good and the other half will be something not so good, that’s just how it is. But to become aware of the results that our thoughts are creating in our life is a huge step forward. Recognizing when we are being more negative than positive, and choosing to not let the negativity overrule your days.

I want you to try something today – it might sound crazy to you if you’ve never heard of doing thought work before. Let me tell you though, it works! Take five minutes to try this exercise and see if it does anything for you. WRITE IT DOWN. Thinking about it helps too, but actually physically writing it down on paper and seeing it is much better. I promise.

1.       Pick one area of your life that feels hard right now. (example: Bedtime)

2.       Grab a piece of paper and a pen, and write down one thought that you think about it. (ex: I have to repeat myself a million times before the kids brush their teeth)

3.       What emotion does this thought cause you to feel? (ex: Frustrated)

4.       How do you act because of this emotion? (ex: Impatient with the kids)

5.       And what is the result of this action? (ex: Nobody is happy at bedtime)

Notice how your original thought creates the result that you get. Want a different result? Find a new thought to think about the situation. In my example, I could change my thought to “I will brush my teeth at the same time as them, so I don’t have to repeat myself.” This thought causes me to be present with the kids, in the bathroom together brushing our teeth. Not trying to get all the other things done at the same time and expecting them to brush their teeth and get ready for bed by themselves. Which brings a much better result of being present with my kids.

I’m telling you: becoming aware of our thoughts can change how we view our lives and how we spend our days.

Taking A Step

Here I sit in my green armchair, in a darkened living room. The tears are cascading down my cheeks, the sobs racking my body. Baby is at my breast, sucking with all the force he can muster. It feels as though the milk is being pulled from my body, my body unwilling to let it go. I am consumed by my thoughts, thoughts so dark and deep it feels impossible to break free of them. My whole body feels as though I am weighted to the ground, some unseen force pressing me into the earth. To lift my head feels unbearable. I am alone, or seemingly alone. Everything outside of me is blurred, with only my dark, repetitive thoughts so clear.

I thought this time would be different. That I was stronger this time around. I thought I was prepared to handle a downturn of hormones, if it came. I gained so much knowledge around postpartum depression – why it comes and what to do about it. Plus, this was my fifth baby. One would think that counts for something!

But I couldn’t stop it.

The darkness overtook me. I was aware of what was happening, but I felt helpless against it. I knew the tools that would help me get out of that hole, but where was the motivation to do them? Where was the hope that I even could climb my way back up if I did them? Feeling joy felt so far out of my reach.

The loneliness. The hopelessness. The helplessness.

The numbness, void, the lack of emotion.

Emptiness.

Where do I go from here?

There is only one direction from rock bottom – up. Little by little, the clouds started to clear and the sun would shine through if even for a few moments. Find the hope, the small belief that change is possible. That being well is possible. It’s a huge change to feel like you can do something about your situation versus feeling trapped and hopeless.

Realize where you are and that you want to – can – do something about it. Reach out for help, let someone know the thoughts and feelings you’ve been having. Take that first step in the climb, because no matter how cliché it sounds:

It is worth it.

You are worth it.

Someday Is Today

They say that your physical space is a representation of your mental state. Lots of clutter around you equals lots of clutter in your mind.

I pause and look around at our fixer upper house. There is so much work to be done, from the basics of mudding and taping to the finishing touches of décor. I see myself in our house – there is so much inner work to do. It feels overwhelming, that where do I even start? All the things I need to work through, which one is the one that will underscore all the other work?

---

She came over for a visit, the first time since we moved into our home three years ago – to say it’s about time is an understatement! Anyway, as I give her the grand tour of our place I listen to my thoughts. Here’s the bathroom, our most recent accomplishment, but there’s still some finishing touches to do. We finished the laundry room a while ago now, but now I need to declutter it again – I don’t know why all the stuff just collects here! Nic’s working on the basement so we can have the kid’s playroom down there and eliminate some of the noise and mess from the living room. We have so much still that needs to be done, it’s a work in progress. It’s so easy to point out all the things we haven’t gotten to yet. And easy to forget how far we’ve come, how much work we’ve put into it.

I find myself thinking exactly the same thoughts about myself. Look how far your stomach still has to go before it’s flat again. You still have so much inner work to do before you are the person that you want to be. Look how you fall short of being the mom that you dream of. How far out of reach those dreams of yours still feel.

I forget to appreciate all the things that we’ve worked through, both physical and mental, with our house and in myself. How quickly those accomplishments simply become the norm and the next thing to work on becomes the focus.

“Someday it will be beautiful, finished, and ready to sell.”

“Someday I will be thin, beautiful, and ready for life.”

—

They also say though, that you need to accept what is before there can be change.

—

What about today, right now, this moment? As is. Can I appreciate what is? Can I remember all of the downs that I’ve come out on the other side of? Can I take a moment to sit and remember those late evenings, either with all the construction dust and noise or with a fussy baby or struggling with depression? We did it, we came out on the other side. We survived.

Its good to have dreams and goals of where you want to go in life. Just take a moment to remember the work that has gotten you here, to this moment. And appreciate it.

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.

That Bump In My Heart

Emerson walks downstairs with a dry night-time diaper and is so incredibly proud of himself.

Gus doing his best to be funny and make me laugh, clearly needing some love and approval.

Rosie looks up at me from her journey crawling around the living room and her eyes instantly crinkle with her biggest smile.

Guin sits next to me on the couch, reading a complete book without any prompting from me.

These little moments when that love just takes over my heart. When I feel awe and wonder that We made that thing. Isn’t it incredible?

Allowing these moments to make an imprint on my mind. To just sit in the now and breathe it in. To be grateful.

The more that I give attention to times like these, the more my mind searches for them. Throughout the day I find myself looking for those small things that I’m grateful for. I notice that when I get upset I’m quicker to get out of my rut and back on track.

Do you have a gratitude practice? Every day for one week, try writing down three things that you are grateful for and why. It doesn’t have to be long, but you have to truly feel grateful for them.

Notice the difference it brings to your day.

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.

Not Me

I was listening to a podcast the other day where two ladies were discussing some of their worst mother moments. In my head I was pitying them, and I thought “I’m so glad my kids don’t do that.” Then I did a double take, did I really just think that? My kids never do anything that I don’t want them to? If they are all perfect little angels then why am I so tired at the end of the day?

Then I started to notice the same pattern when out with my friends and their kids. “Your toddler still wakes up for a drink at night? Mine has been sleeping through the night since he was three months old. I can’t imagine how you do it!” Or “You need to bring 10 different snacks and 10 different toys so your kids will be entertained on our walk? Mine always sit nicely without needing anything when we go for walks.” “You have to entertain your kids when they’re awake and can never get anything done? I expect my kids to entertain themselves most of the time so that I can get things accomplished during the day.” (Score Me:3 You:0)

It’s not that I think other moms are bad moms, or worse moms than I am. The truth of it is that I actually fear that I’m the worst mom on this planet. I worry that someone will come tell me that I’m not old enough to be a mom, that I don’t do a good enough job, and that I’m not allowed to raise my kids anymore. I worry that I don’t give them enough attention, that I don’t play with them as much as I should, that I don’t do a good enough job showing them that I love them. In order to reassure myself that I’m not a complete fail, I slip into the comparison game.

This mental scorekeeping doesn’t get me anywhere. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m doing a better job, it simply has me constantly comparing myself to others. I might have something more under control than the other mom does, but I guarantee that she has something else more figured out than I do. That doesn’t make either of us better, it just puts us in the same boat. We are both doing our best to figure out this mom thing as we go. And what more could we do than that?

Motherhood Inspires

I’ve always thought that my need to have my own thing, the drive to carve out time for myself, has been a sign that I’m not really a good mom. That I should be content to be with my kids all of the time and not be so selfish.

But today a realization struck me – that motherhood is what drives me! It drives me to be a better version of myself so that I can in turn be a better mom. I was never really into exercise in my teens, but now since becoming a mom I make movement a priority. I see the difference in how I am as a mom if I’ve been taking care of myself or not. I love my children and want to love them right; that is a huge reason to do those things that fill me.

It is what inspires me. The little snapshots throughout the day, good or bad, are what inspire me to write, photograph, or draw. It inspires me to create - to carve out time for sewing something for the baby, to take some time during naps to watercolor. The emotions that I work through in a day inspire me to write it out and share it in the hopes that it puts words to what another mom is feeling. 

Letting go of the fear that I’m not a good enough mom.

Embracing the fact that motherhood causes me to be a truer me.

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.

One Of The Best Gifts

Will I ever feel just happy when I see the double lines on that stick? Will my feelings ever be uncomplicated? Of course I’m happy that there is another human growing inside me again, but there’s so much more to it than that.

There’s the worry of will it all go okay? Will I miscarry this one too? There’s the worry of the adjustments that will come with another little one. Everything that is going on in my life right now, plus a newborn too? How will I do it?

There are the lifestyle changes that will take place because of pregnancy; eating better, being more active, sleeping more. The general routine of the days will slow down a notch. It’s a change for the better, but it’s still change.

Speaking of change, there’s all the changes within me that I start to prepare for. The few weeks of nausea that are to come. The bigger every part of me – you name it, it’s getting bigger. Then there’s the hormonal roller coaster that I’m about to jump on and have the ride of my life. My poor husband.

The nine months until due date feels so far away, a goal that I won’t reach for a very long time. But then I think about that little fresh newborn baby, so small, soft and warm against my chest. All of the worry, change and crazy days will be worth it.

Because that new life, held so close to my heart, is one of the best gifts we can get.

I'm Still Me

I started a massive decluttering project, which forced me to go through old papers, pictures, letters, and mementos. Looking at pictures from my time in Finland, those high school years, the months I lived with girlfriends before getting married… the sense of nostalgia overwhelmed me.

Man, was that fun! All of the exploring, having little responsibility in life, beginning to find myself just as me. I knew how to have be adventurous and find a good time. I didn’t have much tying me down – I was footloose and fancy free. How different my life was then. I had a job or school that I worked around and I dreamt of the days that I could stay home with my kids and do whatever I wanted. (That’s what moms do, right?) My free time was my own though, and I could do what I wanted with it. It almost feels like that was a separate person from who I am now; that teenage girl who was up for spontaneous trips to Canada to drive up a mountain and go for pizza. I think I spontaneously took a bath last Friday night, does that count?

My life looks different now, but that thread runs through me still. The core of me, underneath the responsibility of motherhood and adulthood, is still the same. I still enjoy the spontaneous moments when they do happen, and I still know how to laugh until I cry. It’s good that I have learned to be more responsible and raise my family. But it’s also good to remember who I am and to bring that sense of fun and adventure into my days as a mother.