A Mental Snapshot

You know those moments you wish you would have had your camera nearby?  Well yesterday that moment for me was  at our courtyard potluck when all the neighbor boys (all around age 4) had on super hero costumes/capes and Franklin (my sweet 2 year old) asked if he could wear one too.  The only thing I could think of was my nursing cover turned backwards.  The next thing you see is my precious Franklin running around with a nursing cover turned cape, chasing after all the "big boys.”  I have never seen him happier.  My cup runneth over.

Finding Strength in Brokenness

Everyone one wants to believe that they are strong.  Strong enough to get through anything and come out better in the end for enduring through it.  Everyone wants the kind of strength that makes them beautiful and powerful and makes others feel stronger just by being around them.  I want this kind of strength.  However, I am learning this kind of strength takes time and more than time, it takes allowing yourself to be broken.  Three and a half years ago my strength was tested.  I was pregnant with my first child and from the moment I saw the plus sign I was in love.  By the third week, I was singing lullabies to me belly and trying to find the kind of mama I was going to be.  The kind I wanted to be.  It is weird how something that never was can be so much.  Our first baby left us much too soon.  And with that grief came a world of comfort, encouraging words, the wrong words, words that were a good effort.  And at the right time came gestures that just seemed to fit.  My mother in law mailed us a quilted pillow with the same pattern that she had made our wedding quilt.  There was no note indicating that it was meant for our baby or as a comforting gesture, but somehow we knew it was.  We placed the pillow on our bed and the comfort of our missed baby nearby.  Now that we have been blessed with more children, the pillow sits in the chair we use to rock our babies to sleep. 

A few nights ago during Elena’s 4-6am awakening, I rocked my precious girl to sleep against the pillow.  Being the gassy little stinker that she is, she spit up all over the pillow.  I laid my baby girl down and frantically began to scrub the pillow.  Before I knew it tears had filled my eyes and sadness in my heart.  I felt like any imperfection on this pillow would dishonor our first baby.  As I realized how I was reacting I took a deep breath and held my baby girl in my arms and kissed her cheeks and her eyes and her hands.  

Sometimes I think I fear being a horrible mother because I am afraid to fail at the second chance I was given with my son and my daughter.  Other times I am afraid if everything is perfect I am moving on too much.  Does that make any sense?  I LOVE my children.  I mean love them SO much.  They bring me such joy and I love being their mama.  But, sometimes I feel like someone is missing.  I wish they could have known their brother or sister, I wish I could know what he or she would have been like.  Would he have had Franklin’s silliness?  Or Elena’s strong will? 

I know that this is the type of situation that will make me the kind of strong person I want to become.  And I know that I have a lot of brokenness to endure. 

Nothing like a cloudy Sunday fall afternoon at the farmers market.  My two favorite purchases of the day were the half flat of raspberries (which Franklin almost ate half of on the way home) and the oyster mushrooms I plan on grilling up with squash and red Russian kale.

Knowing your worth.

I have placed a book on hold at the library entitled "The 10 Habits of a Happy Mother" and I plan to pick it up tomorrow.  The other day I noticed that my old pastor and friend, who married my husband Nick and I five years ago, mention it on a facebook post.  She mentioned that the first habit was knowing your worth as a mother. These words struck a chord with me.  I have not been able to stop thinking about those words.  The past eleven years since I have graduated high school has been a slow and not so steady journey concerning my higher education. Often changing my mind, always seeking my calling.  This past June I finally received my AA degree in Sociology.  My plan is to go on and complete my bachelors in social work and my masters in educational counseling.  However since I gave birth to my daughter Elena six weeks ago, I have decided to take the year of from school to stay at home with her and my 2 ½ year old son, Franklin.  I know I am beyond blessed to be able to do this.  To spend my children's early years with them.  However, I must admit, without actively pursuing my education this year I have questioned my self worth.  I have placed too much importance on becoming an educated woman my children can look up to; that even taking a one-year brake has left me feeling a little lost.  So although I have not even read this book yet, if all I get from is it is to know my worth, it is more than enough.  So each day I will reflect on the importance of my job as a mother. I am overwhelmed with joy that they are my children.  At such a young age they are such extraordinary people who have taught me so much. I truly am blessed to get to spend each and every day with them and watch them grow into these amazing people, and I know their childhood will come and go in the blink of an eye. My worth lies in so much more than being a student, a wife, or even a mother.  It is all these things combined and so much more. God has given me a value that cannot be taken away  no matter what I do or do not do.  I think this is why it breaks my heart to see young girls so depressed over some jerk that won't love them back, or believe for one second that not looking the "right way" has anything to do with their worth.  As women, as people, let us rise above the lies that we are less than who we are.  Let us know and declare our worth.