Strawberry blonde photography has a new website!
We would love for
you to join us by clicking below.
Wednesday, January 17, 2024
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
Melissa Grace- whats in a name?
Naming a baby is a big responsibility. I mean, I guess its not really detrimental to the life of a child, but if you get too crazy, the name you choose could definitely have some impact on a person. Ive honestly never really been a huge fan of naming my children after people. Mostly, this is because Im a people pleaser and how in the world do you choose who gets a namesake and who doesn't and how is someone's character so great that you would want your child to have them as daily example in their very name? All of that being said, when Joey and I found out we were expecting, we tossed around several boy names and several girl names. Joey was convinced initially that we would have a boy because of the genetics on his side of the family so we threw around a lot of boy names and we had only a handful of girl names we liked. Summer was a front runner in the girl category, but we both knew that Melissa was a HUGE contender too because of the sentiment it held in spite of my "namesake" reservations. My sister had recently died from brain cancer. She was my best friend, the person I talked to every single day about every single part of my life. She was the single biggest encourager to me and she encouraged my confidence many times that I lacked it by reminding me regularly of every quality that she saw in me. There was a large age gap between myself and my sister, just like there would be between this baby and our other three children. Specifically, the gap between Charleston and this baby would be so similar to the gap between my sister and myself, right down to the blended family aspect of our families and the fact that my sister used to tell me that she always prayed for a baby sister before she got me. I was her answered prayer baby sister, exactly as was the case with this baby. Charleston had been praying that Joey and I would have a baby sister for her before we were even aware of it! My sister and I were technically half siblings but she never introduced me that way and never made me feel that way. She spent time with me often when I was young, wrote me letters when she was out of town, took me to play and taught me so much as I watched her parent her young boys, until I got old enough to be best friends with her. As if those aren't enough sentimental reasons for a namesake baby, my sister was a HUGE part of the reason that Joey and I were together, which made her name specifically sentimental to both Joey and myself as a couple. I talked to her when he sent me those first messages and I regularly sought her advice. It was her encouragement that led me to accepting that first date with Joey, even though I was so scared and almost backed out. It was that same date that she ended up being at (unintentionally and seated in another section), but it sure did lighten the pressure to know that she was there, and it gave me a good laugh. After a couple of dates I was still pretty cynical about relationships and love. Things began to turn around shortly afterwards when my sister and I were out for a bike ride at the canal and Joey was out for a run and literally ran right by us. He stopped for few minutes to chat and my sister invited him to her house for dinner with all of us. Shortly after that our relationship became more serious and by my birthday in August (when Joey and I had known each other for about three months) my sister gave me a big monogrammed umbrella, with Joeys last name in the middle! Ha! She always said that she knew he was perfect for me, even before I did. As for her character, Melissa could light up a room. She was funny and kind, down to earth and Im confident that I haven't laughed half as much as I used to since she went to heaven. Don't get me wrong, she had her crazy moments too and there were times I wanted to pull my hair out because of her but that joy that just exuded from her, outweighed all of the faults that came with the package. Not long after Joey and I got married, my sister was diagnosed with stage 4 glioblastoma. Its a big bad cancer with a grim prognosis and we were all devastated. During her battle with cancer our family spent a lot of time together and because of Joeys support emotionally, with the kids and with my job I am able to look back on that time with no regrets because I was with her so much. I still remember her last day on earth standing by her with Joey while she laughed and called him Clark Kent because of his new glasses. So, naming your baby after someone who is a huge part of your marriage and relationship is super sentimental for Joey and myself both, BUT the fact that my sister lived the last of her life to the glory of Christ was HUGE for me. Melissa became more dedicated to following Christ, becoming like Him and preparing herself for eternity. She was so full of joy in the midst of such a huge trial. She used her diagnosis and treatments as an opportunity to talk to and encourage others. She planned ahead to create a funeral video that would speak to the hearts of her loved ones and bring them comfort in what she knew would be a hard time for us but she was confident was going to be a treasure for her as she stepped into eternity. She had that peace that passes all understanding and it was beautiful to get to be a part of. She loved others so very well, and what a beautiful example for our baby girl. All of that being said, we still weren't completely sold on the name and we didn't have a clue what we would actually call a baby girl if we gave her that name and all of this was still before we knew our baby was even a girl! When we were about 13 weeks along in our pregnancy we decided to take a much needed trip away to Savannah since I had been so very sick. Usually half of our trips end up with Joey and I chatting about some sort of history about an area or a war because Ive apparently forgotten everything I learned in high school and this trip was no different. As we chatted about the civil war, that led to talking about the movie, "Gone with the Wind" and Joey brought up a nickname for Melissa that he had mentioned before, "Mellie". Ive only seen the movie once but I remember Mellie being my favorite character in the movie, she was selfless and kind and loving even to the unloving. I decided that I liked the nickname right then. It seemed to be the perfect fit for our namesake baby that would allow her to still have her own name and Joey decided at the same time that he just knew we were having a girl and her name would have to be Mellie. That night we went to one of our usual spots for dinner and wouldn't you know that even though Ive not met another Mellie in person in my life that I can recall, our waitress's name was Mellie! Now, I don't know about you, but for us, that just confirmed it all. It was that same week that we settled on Grace as a middle name. Grace, receiving what you don't deserve and he and I both have felt like the gift of this sweet baby is far more than we deserve and we are so thankful for her. A week or so after that we went to the Dr. and found out that this baby was indeed a sweet little girl, our very own little Melissa Grace with a name packed full of so very much meaning and sentiment.
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
the tears behind the bump..... ectopic pregnancy, heartache and trust.
A photo speaks a thousand words they say, but sometimes the "words" come from the mind of the reader and those words or perceptions aren't really embracing the reality of the photo or should I say, the reality behind the photo.
We were so excited recently to share the news of our pregnancy with our friends and family. The encouragement, excitement and hugs have been so precious. There is something about the news of a new life that just makes people want to celebrate. The joy of a new beginning, the amazement of a tiny human growing beneath my heart, I'm baffled by the overwhelming reality every day as I sit in amazement that there is a baby in my belly. The truth is that the heartache that can accompany pregnancy or the lack thereof is not lost on me. Im an adoptee, that means that the very heartache that can surround an unwanted/unplanned pregnancy and the pain and hurt that surrounds the very real issue of bareness and the struggles that are a companion to infertility have always been very close to my heart, they are a part of my life, a part of my very begining. Ive always been very aware of the HUGE "blessing" that pregnancy is and at the same time I hesitate to say blessing because what does that mean for the many precious women I know who find that blessing in different ways or who don't get to enjoy that "blessing" at all. Its so hard to embrace the very sweetness that can cause so much heartache and joy all mingled together in one little bundle of sweet baby squishiness without thinking of the many women who meet another persons joyful announcement with the sting of hurt. Its messy and its often full of confusion and questions and I cant pretend to know the answers, only that I see the hurt and I know a tiny bit of the pain as its so close to home for me and it makes my heart ache.
Ive been so thankful to experience two pregnancies previously, but the road to this pregnancy was filled with bumps and heartache of my own. Two years ago today, I found myself standing as a patient in the chemo office (ironically during the same period in which I was helping to take care of my sister and taking her to all of her chemo appointments). Three weeks prior to that day I had a positive pregnancy test. Normally pregnancy tests are exciting but I was bleeding some on the very day I took the test. Looking back, I cant remember what prompted me to take that test, thankfully I did. I called my Dr. and he had me begin what would be a grueling few weeks of blood testing every other day to monitor my levels. The levels showed that I was clearly pregnant, the third day the levels rose but they didn't double. My Dr. was very honest that it looked like the symptoms of an ectopic pregnancy. I had absolutely no idea what that was or why it would be happening but I tried to prepare myself for the loss, all the while holding on to the tiny bit of hope that the pink lines of that pregnancy test meant there was life inside of me, capable of surviving. Every other day I sat in a waiting room full of people with my bruised arms hoping that the numbers would do the right thing, that this baby would thrive and each time my precious Dr. called me and tried his best to be very direct with me about the reality and danger of the situation. Joey and I went in for an ultrasound and the only thing they could see was a small area near my left tube. This, along with my symptoms and the numbers from my blood work confirmed that I was indeed experiencing an ectopic pregnancy. The room felt like a blur. My options were a shot of MTX or to have the tube (and the baby) removed. It was overwhelming to visibly confirm and then let go of a pregnancy all within an hour. Desperate, confused and woing if there were any other options I asked if there were any way to move the baby, any way the baby could survive. My Dr. consoled me and talked me through the reality that my numbers were trying to rise because this baby was trying to survive but it was impossible because of where the baby was located. There was no way to move the baby and the baby would not survive either way that I looked at the situation. My Dr. shared the bleak reality that if I didn't choose the shot or the surgery, this pregnancy could kill me too. An eruption of my tube and internal bleeding were very real possibilities. As my Dr. gently asked which I would like to do, I could only cry and tell him that all of the options were awful. I didn't want ANY of these options, come to think of it I didn't like anything in this whole situation. I can typically find the good in any situation, its a quality and a fault at times but at that moment there was nothing good, nothing redeeming about this situation and I just couldn't make sense of any of the why's running through my mind. Ultimately we decided that since I needed to be at an MRI in Atlanta with my sister the following Monday, the MTX shot was the best option, with the best recovery time and best chance at salvaging my tube. I went in for the shot on Friday, it was my birthday and this was not the birthday celebration I had hoped for. I sat in that cold waiting room and I remember feeling like I was here choosing to take the life of my baby and unstoppable tears streamed down my face. The nurse came in to confirm my information and I spoke through tears confirming the reality and trying to smile. Why I felt guilt for crying and the need to try to smile and be pleasant is beyond me. While I waited for the Dr, tears still streaming, I noticed a scripture in a small frame. Honestly, I don't even remember what verse it was but I remember that it gave me peace and reminded me that I have a Savior who knew this baby, who was not surprised at this situation, but would use it somehow for His glory and that He loved me even when it felt to me like He must certainly be making some mistakes. The shot was painful and it burned but it was quick. I think I went home and cried all weekend but it really is a blur because Monday morning,I was up early with a smile plastered on my face to take my sister into her MRI. My body hurt with every step that I took on those concrete floors but I would gladly do it all again knowing how little time I had left with my sweet sister.
This photo below, its that day at the MRI. You'd never know from my Facebook post that I'd just lost an ectopic pregnancy two days before, but thats the limited "truth" allowed by the photo.
A few months later my Dr recommended a dye test (I think it was called an HSG) to see if my tubes were cleared. Let me just be honest here, this test was so painful. Ive read on "Dr. google" that it isn't this painful for some women, but it seemed that my left tube was blocked and the dye couldn't get through so the pressure of the dye trying to push through my tube hurt in a pain almost equivocal to a root canal. I think I nearly squeezed poor Joeys hand right off but I was so thankful he was there with me for that. The Dr. explained that my left tube was still blocked. So blocked that the dye could not get through at all and that because of that I should either have the tube removed or remain on some sort of birth control to avoid another ectopic pregnancy. I had none of the prior issues that would have led to an ectopic pregnancy other than two previous c sections, which meant I walked into this test confident that everything was going to be fine and I just sat confused as the Dr. gave me all of this news. My Dr. reminded us that these things just happen sometimes and that we did have a 50% chance of a pregnancy from my healthy tube without having the blocked tube removed but there was the life threatening risk of an ectopic to consider as well. It was all overwhelming again. Joey and I prayed through all of our options. Ultimately, a year later, we decided that having the tube removed would be the safest option. So in October of 2017 I had my left tube removed. The surgery wasn't painful but the recovery and the three tiny incisions that I could barely see were pretty painful and I remember being so worried that they might accidentally take both tubes. I healed from that surgery and we prayed some more about which direction to go as far as adding to ur family was concerned. We knew that at this point an ectopic was technically still a slight risk just because Id had one before, but that we had hopefully eliminated that issue with the tube removal. When it got down to it we decided that three kids and a dog was probably plenty and we should move forward enjoying life. Now, outwardly I was completely on board with this plan, it was a joint decision. I was on board with our family being complete. Until one day, it hit me that these years would be over. Let me be very clear.. I recently read , "Girl wash your face". I LOVE that book but when I got to the chapter about chasing your dreams, creating goals and making money to buy a house in Hawaii, I just couldn't relate. Yes a house in Hawaii would be nice I suppose, but not nice enough to make me want to loose time with my kiddos. I have a college degree in a field that I am sincerely passionate about, Ive run my own photography business. It was successful, I loved it but ultimately it was never my goal, it was a means to an end for me, a way to provide and make sure my children needs were met. My passion, the very heart of everything I want in life is rooted in being a mom. I admire women who are driven and have these goals of business and success, I think that is so wonderful for them but for me, it sincerely all lies in loving these kiddos. Sure, I think Ill get back to my passion with social work again one day when these kids are older but for now this, this being in carlines, going on all the field trips, making snacks and cooking dinner, it is my dream come true. It is not for every body, but it makes my heart soar, it is where its at for me, there is no greater joy in my life than taking care of people, and being able to be home has been such a blessing for our family. SO thats what hit me like a ton of bricks one day... the reality of those years being gone, all done, no more babies. This phase of life was nearing an end as these babies get older and I think I cried on and off and wrestled with God for three days. I tore into my Bible and I begged him to change my heart, to give me a peace, to make me content with the children we have, to let me know that this was His plan and that I was done, to help me to embrace it and move forward. It was a struggle, but my heart finally caught up with truth and the reality that Im not really in control of this whole pregnancy thing after all.I had a peace and was ready to move forward enjoying our family just the way it was. This past May Joey and I sat on the beach watching our kids play and had a talk about trusting Gods plan for our life, having peace in our reality and God's will.... we talked around in circles a bit but ultimately decided that the best thing to do would be to "let go and let God"... just see what happened and know that we would have peace either way. In the middle of June I took a pregnancy test. This is typical for me because I often take a class C medication and I like to check before I take those meds. The test didn't turn right away so I threw it in the trash. The next day, I took the second test just for the heck of it and it turned positive. I sat in shock while Joey was getting dressed in the other room. I pulled the test from the day before out of the trash and guess what? It had turned too. I left the test on the counter for Joey to find. He saw it and he was so confused too. Y'all, it was like we were two teenagers in shock and how that test got pink, why was it pink?? We hugged and cried and in the back of my mind I held back because of fear. Every day, I waited for the bleeding, for the loss and the hurt and day after day it didn't come. Instead the nausea came along and I spent weeks.. I am not even kidding you weeks just laying in bed or laying on the couch nearly in tears trying to make myself eat oyster crackers, saltines and trying each different medication that my Dr. prescribed to no avail. Finally, 8 weeks in we saw the sweet baby in my belly, in the right place and we cried at the sound of a sweet little heartbeat. Because I was so sick, we had to go ahead and tell the children because my little nurses were worried about me... well, minus the one that caught sight of my pregnancy app, he may have had a clue. The last few years have been a whirlwind of pain and heartache that has drawn us closer together but thats the story of the reality behind this sweet baby bump. Its not all rosy, but its all stitched together and easier to survive with the common thread of Christ bringing me back to truth through all of the fearful wanderings in my heart. And finally, at 13 nauseated weeks (still) I can let myself get excited about the miracle of life.
Also not pictured, me... on the couch for 8 weeks trying to keep down these cheese its and making laps between here and the toilet.. cause that is reality y'all.
Monday, June 18, 2018
bitter or better, the choice is mine.
Thursday, September 21, 2017
farmhouse kitchen sink
Ive recently found that when you loose a close loved one, people tend to do one of two things; bury the feelings and refuse to mention the person, preferring to avoid the hurt or some people begin to cling. Ive decided that Im a clinger, I cling to the memories of my sister and relish the stories, I talk about her often, I have her pictures proudly displayed. I guess for me it's a way to "keep her alive" to keep her legacy. I want my children to remember her and talk about her with fondness. I find myself clinging these days to every little thing that reminds me of her. The pearl earrings she gave me or one of her rings, I have to wear at least one of them every day. The painting Charleston made of the two of us, the clothes she gave me, her favorite hudson jeans, the funny way we talked, our old inside jokes, they all bring a smile to my face (and sometimes lots of tears if Im honest).
Joey and I recently remodeled our forever home. It was built by his pop and he was the sweetest man, so this house is covered in sentiment and it makes my heart so happy. There were multiple times through the remodeling process that I broke down and sobbed because my sister wasn't here to help me decorate it. Decorating was one of her many "biznesses" and man would she have helped me make this place so beautiful. So, there was this one thing that I had to do to keep a little "piece of Missy" with me every day, to cling to her. I remember a really hard phase in my sister's life where we spent an extra lot of time together and during that phase, all that she could talk about was her "farmhouse kitchen sink". Oh my gosh, she LOVED that sink and I thought she would never shut up about it! But, I knew when we started this remodel adventure that I had to have one in my house, I just had to have that little reminder of my sister. A reminder of all of the times at supper club she "beat me" to the sink to wash the dishes while I beat her to the dessert table. A reminder of all of the times my family picked about how much I sucked at housekeeping, while she always made sure to remind me of the many other things she thought I was awesome at. So, while many people just see a sink in this kitchen, I see years and years of memories and love.
Im slowly accepting the fact that the ache of her loss will always be here. I thought something or someone would come along to fill the hurt, but it cant be filled. There will never be another Missy this side of heaven and Ill never get to be "hippy" again. For now, Ill just keep clinging to the little things that make me smile as I remember her... while I wash my dishes at love my farmhouse kitchen sink. <3
Friday, September 2, 2016
glitter in your heart
Every year on the kids' birthdays I let myself reminisce. This year my girl is turning 6. Every year I wonder how it passed so quickly. I couldn't help but look back on my old blog post from my last days of pregnancy with Charleston. I rambled on and on in that post about my walking around the house in tears the night before her delivery. I was full of worries, full of fear. Lacking in faith and second guessing everything. I knew that I would love this baby girl, but I was so scared that I wouldnt be able to love her in the same ways that I had loved on and invested in Carson as my first born. I was also worried that the dynamic of my relationship with Carson would change. Looking back, I realize that you can NOT reason with a woman with hormonal issues any more than you can rationalize with a drunk person. Those feelings and worries, no matter how irrational, were so very real to me at the time. In hindsight all of those things that happened as a result of my having a second child were so good for me, so good for both of my children. When Charleston was born, I did have to stop carrying Carson so much, stop babying him so much and stop revolving my entire world around him, and you know what...that was good for him. Had she not come along, I may still be trying to carry the kid at 9 years old. I am not even joking, I totally helicopter parented the poor kid, I had nothing else to do. Being the second child and my not having so much one on one time with Charleston was actually good for her too. Because of more time to figure things out on her own, she has this independent strength that absolutely amazes me.
All of that aside, its Charleston's birthday and Ive had a blog on my heart for my girl, an open letter that I hope she reads and understands one day.
Charleston,
My sweet baby girl. You are so full of spunk, so full of energy and bursting with joy (sometimes literally). You have a sweetness that surpasses anyone I have ever known. Your hugs, your laughter, your silliness and your smile bring me more joy than you will ever know. There are so many things I love about you. There are so many ways that you are just like me. For some of those things, I am thankful; your love for sleeping in, your love for people, your desire to help others, and your innocent joy. For some of those things I am sorry; your sassiness, your love for sleeping in till the last possible minute (it's a blessing and a curse), and your stubbornness. There are also so many ways that you are nothing like me and in those ways I admire you. You are an independent thinker, never one to follow the crowd, even if the crowd is all doing something cool. You want to make your own mark, do things your own way. You are more determined than any child I have ever seen. I have seen you work so hard to get things until you finally succeed. Recently, you learned to ride your bike and I thought I was going to be the one to teach you. Turns out that sometimes you and I may clash because we can both be kind of stubborn in our ways. Ill blame my red headed spirit and your spunky personality. Thankfully, Jojo stepped in. I watched you try and try and try with a look of determination that let me know that you WOULD be riding that bike by the end of the day. You would not give up. You would fall, and fall hard but each time you would dust off and get right back up. There were no tears, no hesitation. You didn't even take a break because you had your focus on the goal. That amazes me little girl! I pray that you keep that drive.
I think that our recent trip to Disney is initially what prompted me to want to leave you a few words of wisdom, areas that you can grow because we can ALL always grow. I specifically remember the day that we went to the bippidy boppidy boutique. It was a big deal for you because you really wanted to do it and a big deal for me, because of the price tag (even after the portion you paid form selling some of your toys). We went in, bought a brand new beautiful princess dress and you got all dolled up. You were absolutely stunning. I remember your sweet face and the joy as you looked in the mirror and saw yourself as I always see you... a true little princess. It wasn't but minutes after that when the "teachable moments" started. As we left the boutique, we passed a little girl who was being made up in the front window where everyone passing by could admire her. You offhandedly commented that you thought they would or should have chosen you as the girl to put in the window. In my mind I agreed, because to me, you are the most beautiful little girl in the world although I had no idea how the criteria for "window girls" even worked. I assured you that it must have cost extra or maybe you had to be a certain age and I tried to help you focus on the positive of your experience. In my heart I realized where you were coming from and I want you to know that you will face this feeling over and over in your life. There will always, always be another girl with more stuff than you, there will be girls who are prettier than you too. Some of them nice, some of them mean it doesn't really matter. Because we are believers in Jesus Christ, I believe (and so do you) that we have an enemy. Our enemy (satan) wants nothing more than to have us focus on what we don't have, what others do have, and to make us sad, to limit us from being effective for Jesus by focusing on things that don't really matter. The MOST important thing that I can teach you is to live your life for Jesus. If you keep your focus on Him, study your Bible, and trust Jesus, you will remember that these earthly things really don't matter in the big scheme of eternity. This life is temporary. our purpose is greater. (I know its hard and the world is shiny and sparkly, I promise I know. Grown ups have the same struggles, just not at Disney World) Make the most you can of what YOU have where YOU are. So quickly we forget about the wonderful experience we just had when we see someone that seems to have something better but comparison is the thief of joy, I promise you that. You will never ever be happy focusing on what others have. Choose to be thankful, choose to focus on what you do have and how you can use it to honor Christ. I can assure you that just as much as there will always be someone with more and better, there will also always be someone with less and worse. Focus on your blessings and helping others and you will know great joy.
Not long after those moments, I got you a cup of water and you refused to share it with me. Again, I thought that it was a teachable moment and I tried to talk to you about sharing, giving and being loving. Im not sure if it sank in but I was really trying. The rest of that day, the people at Disney literally rolled out red carpets for you and asked for your autograph. I watched you light up as you enjoyed all of the attention. It was priceless and I'd pay that big price tag again to see the joy on your face. Later that night when we got back to the room you were defiant about a few things and I had to give you some consequences. I think I was over teachable moments by then and I know we were all worn out from the long hours at Disney. I don't remember exactly what I , in my exasperated state, said to you, but I do remember that my point was that no matter how dressed up you were, how much glitter was gooped in your hair and how much makeup was on your gorgeous little face, that it all meant absolutely nothing if your heart was ugly. I think you were crying too hard to hear me and I probably didn't have express myself as calmly as I could have. Oh, my heart hurt that night and Im pretty sure I hit the verge of tears as I prayed that I was investing in your little heart in the right ways. I prayed that my point sank in just a little bit. For all of the times that I tell you how beautiful you are, for all of the money I spend on cute clothes for you, painting nails, and play make up, none of that matters if your heart gets lost in the process. My prayer is that I will invest in your heart more than your beauty. That you will know ( I mean KNOW in the depths of your being and not just your head) your # 5 by heart, that, "Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." You have this amazing potential for loving and serving others, for making people feel so very special and I am praying hard that God will use that in big ways for His glory in your life. I love you so very much and want the very best for you, my sweet girl. Please listen and try to learn when someone you love takes their time to give you sound guidance and direction, knowing that its out of love. Don't ever think that you know it all or that you don't have room to grow and learn because you always will. Goodness knows your mama still has a LOT of learning and growing to do. You make me so very proud that my heart could burst! <3 Happy 6th birthday! Love and big hugs and kisses! I love you a million bajillion!
Thursday, July 14, 2016
imperfections- making room for grace
In my job I see a LOT of perfecting. Photographers make images look flawless and sometimes thats okay. I get it, we want to remember our newborn baby as the perfect angel we see when we look at them (minus the scratches, baby acne, little boogies and spit up stains). Sometimes we want our tummy to look a little more slim so that we feel better about putting a huge image on our walls and thats okay too. But, sometimes its important to embrace/accept our flaws. This is a very personal post for me and one that I hope someone will be able to relate to or be encouraged by. Ill get right to the point and focus on the female body, an issue that hit home with me over the last few months. Everywhere we turn we are told to fix this, nip that, make these larger, get that smaller. I have honestly given sincere consideration to many of these options at various times in my life and I cant say with 100% conviction that I will never ever have any changes done with my body, so please know that I don't think any differently of you if you have. Each woman has her own choices to make, but I know many women who fix one thing only to feel the need to fix another or to make one of those "fixes" better later on.
When I married Joey, I knew that he would be marrying a woman who came with emotional baggage and beyond that, he got my physical baggage. Pregnancy (x2) was hard on my 5'2 frame and nursing two babies over about 3 years took its toll as well. It was easy to accept those physical changes when the man who saw my body was the one who got the perk of my body having carried and nurtured his children. When I married Joey though, my body was already "scarred" from having those sweet babies and I faced a bunch of insecurity that I had not dealt with before. The typical response I face when I suggest that I am unhappy with something about my body is that I am so cute and small. However, the reality is that for every woman (myself included), it doesn't matter what others see, insecurity and body image is a very personal thing and we all have parts of our bodies that bother us. So, back to my point...shortly after Joey and I married, I went through this huge bout of insecurity and my husband in all of his sweetness, assured me of his love and of the fact that he absolutely adored every flawed and perfect part of me regardless of any scarring or marks. It was humbling and freeing to know that he loved me, yet a few months later I struggled again. Can I just note here that spiritual warfare is a very real thing. This battle was taking place in my mind and keeping me from doing much more productive things with my thought life. Finally, I called my friend one day after having mentally beat myself up over all of my flaws and wondering what was going on in my mind. My sweet friend wisely said to me, "I think that your insecurities aren't really related to your body or any other body that you may compare yourself to; its your heart, its your baggage, the rejections you have faced in life, its your fear of not being loved." I sobbed on the spot as the words came out of her mouth. I cancelled my plans that night and told Joey I needed some time to just be with God. I pulled out my Bible and my journal and started in psalm 139. I read several passages about the way that God created me, about how much He loves me and I focused on His perfectly imperfect plan for my life. I began to focus on eternity and my purpose in life, which lets be very honest here, goes FAR beyond my ability or lack thereof to look hot in a bikini. I got out my journal and began to write down every lie that I was believing about myself, about my body and how I see myself as a person. It started with the feeling that my body is gross, that the scars left were gross, that I am not enough for societies standards of beauty, not enough to keep my husbands eyes, just not enough over all. I journaled about 5 pages of lies before I even realized it. I had no idea I was believing so many lies about myself. I sobbed and I prayed and I begged the Lord to help me keep my focus on eternity, where bikinis don't matter and stretch marks don't stop me from making a difference for Jesus. I can not even tell you just how amazingly freeing that day was for me. No matter how many times my Joey reassured me, the issue had to be dealt with in MY heart and mind, with my focus on Jesus. There was nothing my husband could say to me that would change it. I cant lie, while I feel like I have come so far in this area and conquered so many lies.. every now and then they still pop up and I literally have to tell myself Philippians 4:8 (Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is TRUE, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.) I often have to remind myself of the way that God sees me and my real purpose in this life.
Sometimes I still get caught up in societies standards of perfection. Recently, when we had our family pictures made, our sweet photographer captured a shot of me wrapped up in my husbands arms (no doubt, my favorite place to be). I immediately fell in love with the image and what it represented for me, for my life, and our relationship. The more I looked at it the more I thought that perhaps I should "fix" the image. I could easily just remove a few of the dark freckles, take off that bit of chub hanging over my dress, you know nip and tuck and make it perfect... and then one night as I was looking at the image, I realized that the flaws in it are what make it so beautiful to me. I look at that image and see myself wrapped up in the arms of a man who loves me, thinks I am perfect for him and sees the beauty that attracted him to me, the beauty within my heart. Thankfully my husband loves me like Christ (as the Bible says he should) and gives me a real life picture that inspite of any yucky in my life.. any ugly spots, any bit of chub, he embraces me and loves me fiercely. I am wrapped up safely in his arms with all of my mess. It is a safe place for me to just be me, what a beautiful picture of the same way Christ is with me. Its the mess that I bring to the table that makes me so thankful for his (and His) love. If I were simply perfect I wouldn't need the love so much and I wouldn't be so vulnerable and thankful to be loved in spite of it. It is the flaws, the imperfections and the yucky that make room for grace and it is the grace that makes me so very thankful to be loved when I feel so imperfect. 
*Photo Credit- Ashlynne Chapmann Photography- Myrtle Beach SC
Monday, June 13, 2016
A Blended Happily Ever After (honestly)
I am crazy about my husband. Absolutely smitten, head over heals in love with and crazy about this man! He loves me in a way that I have never been loved and never imagined was possible. I can not imagine my life without him. He is hands down, my favorite person in the whole world and I sincerely love being with him 24/7. That being said, I think I need to share the reality of a blended happily ever after. Not long after I got married to Joey, I had an aquaintance mention to me in passing that her marriage was struggling and that she just wanted to be happy and in love with her husband like Joey and I were. My friend's thinking seemed to bend toward the thought that divorcing her husband and finding a new husband could give her this happiness. I am not quite sure what I said to her, but I have really prayed about her comment and how to address things like that. I feel the need to share the reality behind my wonderful marriage; the stuff I don't share on Facebook or announce in my day to day conversation because it isn't encouraging and I am an encourager by nature. I typically only share all of the "yuck" in my life with my immediate family and close friends, but I think this mythical "blended happily ever after" must be explained. The starting point of this blog was that passing comment, but what really hit it home for me was when another young mom I know, who was also struggling in her marriage (note: all marriages struggle sometimes) said to me, "even though you went through a yucky divorce, don't you think it was all worth it since you now have Joey, who loves you so well and its a love like you have never known?" I hesitated and was very deliberate in my answer to her before I replied. I looked at her, wanting to speak to her heart (a heart that wanted an easier, happier way than her current marriage) "not at all", I said, "in fact, if there was ANY way that my first marriage could have worked, THAT would have been best for me and goodness knows it is what would have been best for my children." I later talked this over with Joey and we both agree. However, that's not how our stories worked, we both had failed marriages, we both went through marriage counseling and marriage seminars during those struggling marriages. We both sincerely wanted those marriages to succeed and sadly they didn't. The ending of those marriages wasn't a "welcome change in an attempt to find a better spouse", they were heartbreaking beyond imagine. Seriously, we both agree that divorce was the most painful thing we have gone through. That being said, I want to give a very clear picture of what a blended family (albeit a happy one) really looks like from the inside because if you aren't in one, you really have no idea. I know it looks all fun and happy, and we sincerely are, but it is SO MUCH work! Lets start with the dating. First of all, I had no desire to date and the process of Joey pursuing me was nothing short of a challenge. Joey had to be very intentional and very cautious because I was extremely guarded and very cynical about "love", I had built huge walls around my heart and I had no intention of letting anyone in. I know that all of this varies by situation but IF you are coming from a divorce, you WILL have baggage, and probably lots of it, you hear me? NO matter the reason your marriage failed, there is never a completely innocent party (the problems you brought to your first marriage, you'll carry right into your next) and there is typically hurt involved on so many levels. So, Joey worked hard to gain my trust, to convince me to spend time with him, to give him a chance to pursue me and then to allow him to meet my children(for me that was another HUGE deal). Sometimes it looks like people who are dating are having a blast, but lets just be real here, dating really isn't that much fun especially when you have been having get togethers with all of your married couple friends and kids for years and suddenly you find yourself alone in "single land" where you don't really fit into the typical "20 and single" group, you cant go out on weeknights because your kids have school, you have a real grown up job and little people hanging on you all of the time which makes phone calls really difficult too. Its for the birds y'all, not my idea of fun in the least. So, we survived that part, met each others exes and things seemed to be going smooth. While I was absolutely smitten with Joey, our marriage and living together brought up a whole new set of issues to deal with. We had the baggage again, all of my insecurities from my failed marriage, his insecurities from his failed marriage, and you can heap all of our children's baggage right on top of that. In our first year of marriage I think we had sit down "heart to hearts" every other day as we worked through the emotions and lies that we battled against. There are schedules so confusing that you need attorneys to help you arrange them (even after they've been written out) and you have to work with both exes to try to line anything up. Wanna take a simple vacation? not that easy in blended family land. You cant just schedule something and go on your merry way. Friends invite you on an out of town trip? you cant just say yep, that sounds awesome! First,(lets just pretend work schedules aren't even an issue) you have to make sure its a time that you have your kid(s) because yet another stinky thing is that you have your kid(s) only half of the weekends and summer time that you did before... meaning that you cant always make your friends birthday cook out as a family, the annual family christmas dinner, and you only get to see your children every OTHER year for Christmas morning, Easter morning etc. Now, if its a week or weekend that you have your kids (and hopefully you have your kids on the same schedule as your new spouse, thats another thing you get to work through), then you have to make sure you get back at the right time from the trip and if you need an extra 24 hours to get back from the trip, you have to get the okay for that... not from one ex, but from two most likely and between the two other families, someone is likely to have something that conflicts. Y'all, I am tired just writing all of it. It is a day to day effort on all fronts to keep our family all organized. Parenting is an initial challenge too. You have two parents who may have parented very differently coming together to form one whole family. Initially we tried the, you "parent" your kid and I'll "parent" mine strategy... and while that is all good starting out, we found that it was a huge mess for us, it created two mini families instead of one big happy family like we desired. Just a simple example, if one kid is used to eating only peanut butter sandwiches for every meal and the others are expected to eat broccoli, brace your self, it will take a LOT of work to get all of your kids on the same "compromised page" that the parents agree on. Thankfully, our kids are all young and things are pretty smooth on that end for now, but sometimes little things still pop up because discipline and life in general are different when they are with their other parents. There are issues that we face at least once or twice a month (if not every week) that a non blended family would not have to deal with; drop offs and pick ups galore, discussions about who pays for what, who signs whom up for what, who decides which summer camp, which sport, which doctor, where someones shirt is and the list doesn't end. More often than not, the decisions that we make for our family (even day to day stuff) have to take into consideration two other families and it can be really tiring. That being said, we are tired, but once we got the groundwork laid and made a point to make OUR family priority, learned that Joey and I stick together on everything no matter what, things got much easier to weather. Blended families take so much more work than a typical family (in my opinion) but when we are intentional in the way that we treat one another, knowing the others deepest hurts and insecurities, things work out. We work really hard to build one another up, to encourage one another and to stick together on everything. I have no doubt in my mind that Joey is my biggest fan, my best friend and my number one supporter. He has my back no matter what and he knows without hesitation, that I am that for him. Maybe the marriage counseling we attended and books we read in our previous marriages has helped us in our marriage and maybe we learned the hard way which things aren't quite worth fighting over or hurting your spouse over. I can honestly say that while it is a lot of work, the payoff in our relationship is priceless. To have the chance to love and be loved so well is one of the greatest blessings I will ever experience. <3
*photo credit to the fabulous and super sweet (Ashlynne Chapman Photography of Myrtle Beach) :)
Friday, April 22, 2016
Forgiveness
Forgiveness- the action or process or being forgiven
Three years ago I sat at a local church in the balcony, sneaking in late all by myself. I remember vividly feeling so insecure, alone and scared of what my future held. I came through the church doors that morning with a heavy heart, on the verge of tears. I remember the sermon that morning, it was on forgiveness and the focus was on how Christ forgave us and our need to forgive others. I cant remember the bullet points or what I put in my notes, but I remember the way it applied to my life. I had just gone through a divorce, my children's father had just introduced the children to his new girl friend and I felt anger and pain like I have never felt in my life (side note: this isn't a pity party post or casting blame, I have plenty of faults and I had my fair share of blame in the failure of that marriage). Regardless of the circumstances, I knew as I sat in that church pew that I had to forgive. I had to forgive when my heart did not want to, when I would rather never again see people that in my mind caused me such hurt. I remember going home and sobbing and letting the truth of my need for forgiveness permeate my soul. I was coming to terms with it and I knew that if I didnt forgive, I would become bitter. I knew in the very depths of my heart that I didn't want to be an angry bitter person, even if this little voice inside kinda wanted to throw forgiveness to the curb. I was still coming to terms with that part of forgiveness(with the help of divorce care and weekly counseling) when I walked through those church doors the next Sunday. I snuck into my little balcony seat alone, hoping no one would notice me and I heard the sermon topic introduced. It was on forgiveness again... my heart immediately dropped and I talked to God in my head (I do that often, thankfully I keep it in my head so no one knows just how nutty I really am ;)). I am pretty sure that I said something like, "okay God, I get it, Im forgiving... Im trying to forgive, I am letting it all go, giving it to you." I had not even finished my little God argument when the pastor opened the lesson and said that this week we would talk about forgiving... OURSELVES. I remember being so glad that I was in the back of the balcony because the tears came to me out of nowhere and I immediately felt like I had been punched. I didn't realize it, but while I was focused on trying to forgive others (which I need to do, and did) I was avoiding the deep, deep pain I was covering by not forgiving myself. My eyes flooded and as I listened to that sermon my heart was warmed. It is a strange this how one word can bring tears to a hurting heart, even in places you don't realize are hurting. I journaled and prayed through the hurt, the fears, and reasons that I needed to forgive myself. It was absolutely life changing to take all of that hurt and give it to God. I am confident that those two sermons had a HUGE impact on my life, on my heart and on my ability to have peace and joy today. Oh, I am so thankful for the strength to drag myself to church when all I really wanted to do was stay in my bed and have a big sobbing pity party.
My life has changed so much over the past few years, in ways that I had NO IDEA were even possible. I was reading in Matthew last week and I got to the 7x70 verse in Matthew 18. I looked over in my commentary and the notes hit my heart again. I never linked this forgiveness scripture with the section before which refers to dealing with conflict with others, going to them in person, then with another believer if they don't listen, and then before the church. The notes stated that the initial "forgiveness" is always for us. It is for our heart and has nothing to do with being a pushover or letting someone run all over us. That initial forgiveness also has nothing at all to do with the other person repenting or asking for forgiveness. What an awesome thought for me (a pushover) to know that the forgiveness is actually to protect me, not to hurt me, not to put me at the hand of others to take advantage of me. The second part of the notes mentioned that one might wonder why we don't just forgive the other person without even talking to them and then let it go (that sounds like a good idea to someone like me, who likes to avoid conflict). I was surprised at this part because my commentary noted that this "part of forgiveness" is for the benefit of the other person so that they have the chance to see the issue and to repent from it if they are in the wrong. This "going to another", is done in love and because of genuine care for another person. Going to them is because I love them and I want wants best for them, for them to have a chance to grow along with me. A friend of mine recently had an altercation with another person who never came to them about the root issue, which led to more pain and hurt. Had the person who was hurt just come to her and told her she was offended, the whole issue could have been resolved and both hearts could have felt that healing. It is amazing that one subject, like forgiveness, can really impact your heart and touch your life in so many, very different ways!
This past Sunday our church started a series on forgiveness and the whole focus was about Christ's forgiving us! While I know this in my head, how many times do I take it for granted or doubt His real ability to forgive all of the yuckiness that sneaks into my heart daily. I love what our pastor said about the fact that we often "dumpster dive" in our own sin. It has been trashed, removed from us, Jesus has taken it if we have sincerely given it to him, but sometimes... in those dark hours when we believe the lies of Satan we jump right back to that sin and either relish in it (yuck), or wonder why in the world and how our savior could/would really take it from us. I am so excited to get to hear another series on forgiveness this coming Sunday because I clearly still have a TON of life changing to do.
On a side note, below is my "journaling" from the service Sunday. Sometimes we go to the 9:30 and I take notes, and then I sit in the 11:15 so I can hear my sister sing and sit between her and my daddy. I cant take notes all over again so I put my notes into a picture so that I can remember them more easily. Joey laughed and noted (for about the 100th time) how the two of us couldn't be more different if we tried. :)
Posting note:
I wrote this post several days ago, when it was fresh on my heart. This morning, after several "good" mornings at our house, we had a rough morning. There was defiance, sass, rushing, my lack of patience, my getting frustrated and a big ole mess. Charleston ended up in tears and while I still know she needed a consequence for her behavior.... it nearly broke my heart to walk her into school and still see tears in her little eyes. I typically rush off to work but I had to turn around and go back in to get her. I sat in the front office with her for a few minutes and explained my thoughts on her behavior and the consequence that she deserved (what I should have taken the time to do at home). She apologized to me, and then I had to apologize to her because, while she deserved the consequence she received, I didn't act very loving or patient. I lost my patience with her and wasn't the kind of mom I want to be. It happens, I fail.. and then (thankfully) I get to talk to her about how imperfect I am, how much I need Jesus, His forgiveness, His love for me in spite of the big mess I am and the chance to "restart" our day. I talked through it all with my sweet girl while we both cried and snuggled a bit. I started out my day with forgiveness because I need that at some point every. single day. She, I am pretty sure that being on the receiving end of forgiveness, when you are the one that has offended is just as hard as being on the forgiving end.
Tuesday, April 19, 2016
You're a good good father, and other things Christians sing over and over and over...
Ive been sitting in two services back to back at our church for a few months now. Ive been doing that for some personal, life reasons but I have learned a few things because of it. First of all, I always love worship. I love the learning/teaching part of church but worship is my personal release, my "jesus hug" so to speak. It's like the stretching before my workout, it gets my heart in tune to hear the message. I still remember when I began attending a contemporary church. I had attended more traditional churches with pianos and hymns previously. I am totally not dissing traditional worship, I still love it and think there is a worship style/church for each very unique, God-designed heart out there. I knew right from the start of my church visting that I liked worshipping in this "concert style" when I went to worship concerts, but I wasn't so sure that I didn't need that more traditional feel on my Sunday mornings. I still love a hymn to this day, I sing them to my kids (hoping to get those truths hidden int heir little hearts) and I get excited when a new worship song incorporates one of those hymnal treasures. Somehow, I warmed up to contemporary worship and have found it to be so good for my soul. I have had a few discussions recently with people who wonder why in the world, during contemporary worship, the same chorus of a song will be sung over and over.
I am not sure what everyone else does when they worship, but I am glad to share what I do and why I personally love those repetitive parts of worship. Typically I love a good song that I know the words to so that I can sing along without watching the screen for the lyrics. Those repetitive songs are often easy for me to learn or catch on to quickly and that makes me happy. I love a new song every now and then too, because I have a chance to let the new words hit my heart and help me grow closer to Jesus. So, when I am singing a worship song that I know, I like to close my eyes. To be be very honest, I also like it that the music in my church is loud and no one can hear me singing ( or so I tell myself) at my church, because I mess up the words sometimes and I really have no idea how to be on key. What is in my heart during worship usually just comes right on out. When I get to stand by someone else who is singing their little heart out too, that makes me even happier (whether they sing pretty or they cant carry a tune either) because it makes me think of what it will be like when we are all worshipping together in heaven and that makes me so stinking excited! Okay, so I just close my eyes and think about the words to the song. If its a song I know, I can really sing them out in a prayer to God.... this is so very good for my soul when my heart is hurting or I have something very difficult going on in my life. I think this is why the "Oceans" song was so impactful. Many contemporary lyrics are a personal cry out to God. You cam just close your eyes, give the hurt to Him and sing to Him that, "I will call upon your name, and keep my eyes above the waves, when the oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace, I am yours and you are mine." I can't tell you how many times, during heartaches in my life that I sobbed and "ugly sang" (thats like a step beyond the ugly cry) through tears to those lyrics. For me, church worship is an outward type of prayer done together with a group of people, with the same focus, similar hurts, passions and struggles. I like to take worship time to let go of those hard areas of my life as I sing those lyrics and praise Him for who He is. Some Sundays I might sing over and over that "He is a good, good father" with my heart full of joy because I know that He is amazing and doing beautiful things in my life, in my heart and out loud, I am joyfully praising Him. There are the other times that I sing those same lyrics and the tears pour from my eyes before I can stop them and I am reminding my self as I struggle to get the words out, "You're a good, good father" because my heart is hurting and struggling to trust Him as things happen that I don't understand. There are still other days that my heart is just plain heavy during worship and I don't know why. Sometimes I cant even sing because the Lord puts something on my heart to pray for. It is a beautiful thing to quietly pray, talking to Jesus, while you are surrounded by others crying out, praising and worshipping Him. I have recently noticed (since sitting in two services) that my heart can change from one service to the next. Typically in the first service I am by Joey, praying and praising together for our personal lives (our marriage, our kids and whatever else life has thrown our way that week). During the second service, I am usually between my sister and my daddy and I am often caught off guard at least once or twice each service by my sister's beautiful singing voice. In between that, I catch myself in the reality that I am sitting by one of my favorite people in the whole world and that cancer has wrecked her brain and her future (while she sings there in peace about it all)... sometimes it breaks me for a minute as I get angry with God and wonder what in the WORLD he is doing. Then I remember that right on the other side of me is my sweet daddy, who I absolutely adore. He is sitting on that side of me because of the cancer that is in my sisters brain. He didn't come to church with us before, but now that she cant drive (because of the yucky cancer, the cancer that I was just so angry at) here he sits, just about every Sunday. And then, because the words to the song we have been singing are the same, I can pray through all of that trying to focus on my heart and sing those lyrics of truth over and over. I can praise Him, cry to Him. and plead with Him just through one repeated lyric of "Good, Good Father" as I try to wrap my little finite brain around that one simple truth that right in between the my back and forth of hurt and hope, He is STILL a "Good good father". He never changed. So, for me.. I don't raise my hands high, I keep them close to my heart and I hold them out sometimes. I think each person should do what they want with their hands, worship is a very personal thing. I close my eyes and I let the worries and joys of the week go, I sing them out to Jesus. I let my brain go to "lyric auto pilot" sometimes so that I can get to the heart of my issues. In those moments, I don't really care what anyone else does with their hands, who is wearing what or doing what, or how they move... because my eyes are closed and I am having my worship time with my Jesus. The whole auditorium kinda fades away and that group worship time usually gets pretty personal for me. While my ears may remind me of the situations beside me, I can focus on my savior and sing my heart out to him. That is why I personally, LOVE a good worship song, especially when we repeat it over and over, and it is then stuck in my head and heart to get me through to the next Sunday.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
happy 9th birthday to my first born...
Carson,
My sweet, precious little boy. I can NOT believe that today marks nine years since you were born. I've said it a million times but I really have no idea where the time has gone. I do know that my life has been so much better because you are in it. I know we talk through this story every year and I get all mushy but I want this in writing for you, so you know just how much I treasure you and how much joy you really bring to my heart. It is hard being the first born I bet. I wouldn't know, I was the baby... I got away with more and Papa and Nina were pretty relaxed raising me. But you, you are my first born. The first time I ever had a positive pregnancy test was to announce the start of YOU being knit together in my belly. I was thrilled and terrified all at once. I was scared to even walk at first (yes, true craziness) because I knew that I had THE most precious thing that I have ever had in this world, right there in my belly. I still remember your kicks and the pleasure of having you right with me all day, every day, kicking, jumping, hiccuping, all reminding me that you were there with me. All of the nausea (every day for 6 months), the cramps, the discomfort, stretch marks like crazy, crying about soup... I knew that it would all be worth it for you. I knew from that first positive test that I would do ANY thing for you. It is crazy how a mama can love her child that way, and though I always worked with children and adored them, I could never fully understand the fierceness of mama love until you. You changed my life. You are the first "blood relative" I have ever known. I know that isn't really that important in the big scheme of things and our family is super amazing no matter the blood or genetics because God put me right where He wanted me. BUT, when I saw that first ultrasound, and I saw that little pug nose on your face, I cried tears of joy because for the first time in my life I knew someone who looked like me. That seems so simple but for my whole life everyone would talk about who they looked like, and I didn't have any comparisons. You are an answered prayer in so many ways. You fill a special place in my heart that no one in this whole wide world can. You are a piece of me, literally. Because you are my first, you carry much more weight than your siblings. From the very beginning I had this crazy desire to make everything perfect for you. I wanted my pregnancy to be perfect, but lets be honest here, I could not resist the double cheeseburgers and snickers ice creams, so I gained about 80 lbs. I remember going to the hospital at 5am the morning of your birthday. I labored all day hoping that you would come naturally, but you, my sweet boy, you wanted to stay put. We went to the operating room (even though Nina was worried sick about me) at 9pm because I was starving, ready to eat (or so I thought), and I was ready to get you in my arms. Dr. Burns talked me through everything he was doing and said he was about to pull you out, then he realized you were too big for the incision so he had to make that larger and THEN... I heard the sweetest cry I have ever heard in my life, the cry that made me your mama. That joy is one of the most amazing pleasures that I will ever experience, because you.. my sweet boy were the first. It was all new, it was all amazing and miraculous and every little thing amazed me about you and the whole experience, that this amazing little person had come from within my very body was just baffling in such a beautiful way. I still cant wrap my brain around the miracle of it, the miracle of you. You, Carson Paul, get all of the pleasure (and craziness)of being the first! I know that being the first is hard sometimes and I know that I am and always have been the hardest on you. Please know that everything you experience is a first for me too so try to be patient with your mama and know that I want to do my very best for you. I am learning with you as we go, just like you are. The first time I ever nursed a baby and felt the joy of sustaining another life from my own body, it was you. The first time I bathed a cold, screaming, wiggly newborn.. slap terrified that I would break the baby, it was you. The first time I dealt with colic and bounced for hours and hours on end, it was you. The first time I felt helpless and overwhelmed because another person was completely dependent on me, that was you. The first time I had to hold someone down for a shot and heard cries of pain that made me physically hurt and sob too, that was you. The first time that I ever parented, it was you. The pressure I put on myself to be perfect, to make things perfect for you, my high standards, my mistakes, my learning by trial and error, that fell on you too. I wanted to spend every single waking moment I had with you and I felt like I was the only one who could comfort you the right way. I know now, looking back, that that was a little crazy. Because of this and perhaps your temperament too, you were a mamas boy, no one else would do (like, ever.. even for me to shower). But, Ive said before that you cant reason with crazy and I am crazy about you! You could not have convinced me at that time that I wasn't doing the best for you. I remember sitting in that hospital room right after you were born with your granny holding you and someone brought their toddler in with them to visit. That little toddler was bouncing around right next to where you were with your granny, right near your head and I just knew in my heart that if that child bumped your head, or my gracious, your soft spot.. that your whole head was gonna fall off! The intense emotions (no matter how irrational) I felt were so very real to me. Thankfully, I remember your Granny taking note of my face and "helping" that little child to get to the other side of the bench, away from you. I was beyond thankful that she "rescued you from that certain doom." I am not even kidding Carson, during that first year, I was terrified at the thought of you being hurt or feeling pain. I would have put you in a bubble if I could, for real. I didn't trust myself to do every thing right and I certainly didn't trust anyone else to do it. That irrational fear and lack of trusting that God was there, caring for you too was one of my many downfalls and something that I learned from (thankfully) and did much better at with your sister. Babies aren't nearly as fragile as I had imagined you were, thank goodness. I still remember that every single time you fell as a toddler (when I was around) I would run to you, scoop you up and kiss your boo boo. Granny's friend, Amy said to me once, "You know you don't have to do that every time that he falls." I remember thinking that her comment was absurd and that my very job as a mother was to do just that. How could I see you fall and not do everything possible to make everything better for you? Again, I have learned the hard way that she was right. My scooping you up taught you to depend on me a little too much. Letting you fall sometimes and teaching you how to cope with things is actually the right thing for me to do as a mother. Your sister (not being the first)had the benefit of a mommy who already learned that, because of you. I remember the first time that another child hurt your heart, you know the story, Ive told you before, but what I haven't told you is that I wanted to spank that little kid myself for hurting you. I could feel the heat in my face as I heard him call you an ugly name and I saw the little sadness and pain in your sweet brown eyes and I watched you cry. I tried so hard not to let you know, but I cried too, my heart hurt much more for you than if someone had called me an ugly name to my face. Watching you hurt and trying to help you (knowing you had to cope on your own) was and will probably always be one of the hardest things I will do in my life. I also remember the first time you, my sweet baby, hurt another child. We were at a playground and, being the good "helicopter mommy" that I was at that time, I was nearby when another little girl started crying and told her mama that another child yelled at her. I remember being in shock as the little girl said that it was you. I thought for sure that the kid was confused because you had always been so passive at playgrounds, but the little girl was certain and I took you over and had you apologize. I learned that my perfect child, was just a little sinner just like me and that you were going to make mistakes too. Ive learned that perfection isn't the goal and sometimes its good to make mistakes and learn together, goodness knows I have made plenty. Because you were the first born, you also got some amazing blessings that your no one else will ever get. You had my undivided attention for 3.5 years. I spent hours and hours teaching you, reading to you, playing with you, doing puzzles and workbooks with you. I took you to story time, art time, museums and even to watch plays when you were just a toddler. You learned so much and you were always a thinker, always ready to soak up the next thing I could teach you. You were talking clearly by one, still working on the walking (possibly because I was all to thrilled to carry you everywhere). Once you started walking, you were always content to just be with me. You never ran off and I never had to worry about you getting into a big mess. At two, you knew that owls were nocturnal, among several other random facts I taught you. You were a good listener, and a wonderful student. You have always had this insatiable desire to learn, to grow and to understand things, you are a thinker by nature because God made you that way. During those first few years, you and I talked about everything. I like to think that those years laid a foundation for how much you talk to me now. I love that you still tell me about whats going on in your life. Those few minutes before bed every night when you fill me on on your day, tell me what the kids at school are doing, choices that you struggle with and even sometimes trusting to tell me about any sweet girls you know... those things are precious to me and I hope that you always trust me and talk to me. I am thankful that somehow in spite of all of my faults, all of the ways I have "messed up" that you know my heart, that you know how much I adore you. I know that the past few years have been so very hard for you, hard for us. Going through a divorce was never ever part of what I hoped for your life, but sometimes really hard things in life happen. I know that it sucks, I really, really do and I am so sorry that this is part of your life. I know that bouncing back and forth between me and your dad isn't ideal, having separate parties and holidays isn't ideal, its not what I dreamed for your life, but you have come through this difficult circumstance and your character has grown. I was terrified that the divorce would ruin you, that you would be devastated beyond repair and I know that it has caused a hurt that will forever be in your heart. I held you as you cried and I watched as you tried your best to understand what was happening. Please know that you are loved, the divorce had NOTHING to do with you and there is nothing in the whole wide world that you could have done to change it. You, my sweet boy, are precious and deserve much better, but again, sometimes life is hard and things hurt... we have to choose to grow form the hard times and not become bitter. Remember that "the same water that hardens the potato, softens the egg" stay soft, don't grown bitter. Remember that everyone has hard things in their life and has the couch to respond with forgiveness and grace or to become bitter and angry. Trust me when I say that bitter and angry makes for an awful, m miserable life. Learn from your trials and then let things go, for your benefit, not anyone else's. I am so proud every time I see you choose to let hurts go, to move forward with purpose and to love fiercely in spite of everything. Because you have always been so smart, you have always understood things far more than you should. I wish you could just play in the sand and throw the ball, but your inquisitive mind is far too busy to not ask me a million questions and I hope that you understand me when I try to tell you to play with your legos and let the grown ups worry about the grown up stuff, you will have plenty of "grown up stuff" to think through when you grow up yourself. Somehow, I have started rambling, you know that I am good at getting distracted... but I think the point of this message is to let you know that you hold a very, very special place in my heart. I am so very proud of the amazing young man that you are becoming. I am impressed every time you bring home amazing grades that seem to come so effortlessly to you. Remember that your intelligence is not something for you to boast in (or for me to boast in even if I cant stop myself sometimes), it's nothing that you have done, it comes naturally to you, it is a gift from God. Use it for His glory and not your own. Be proud of yourself because of your good work ethic and character and because of the way you get a chance to live for Jesus. Dont be afraid to grow to your full potential, you are smarter than I could have ever hoped for you to be. I am even more impressed with your heart than I am your grades. I love that you are starting to open doors for me and your sister, make sure you always do for others with humility, out of love for them, wanting them to feel loved, special, taken care of and not because you want the glory of looking like the fine young gentleman that you are, or because you want the compliments and thank you's. Keep your heart in the right place as you serve and keep your focus on Jesus and His glory, that will be priceless. I love your manners, I love your kind heart. I love that you are honest with me when you are struggling and that you ask me about things when you aren't sure if they are right. I love that you are learning to look for the good in others instead of getting frustrated with their faults. I love the example you set for your little brother and sister. I know that you are a rule follower and I always know that you will make sure they do the same if you are around. I love that I can trust you to make good decisions, I love that more than you know. I know that you will make mistakes, you will probably make a lot of bad decisions along the way, but I look forward to walking and talking through those times with you and teaching you through them. No matter what, you will always always be so very loved. There is nothing you can do to make me love you even the teeniest bit less than I do. Thank you for being so patient with me, loving me and forgiving me in the times that I have made mistakes and for being my very first, wonderful little piece of me. You are a priceless treasure sweet Carson and you make me so very proud.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)