Take Cover! Christmas Bells are Ringin’

The only people who think about Christmas in October are St. Nicholas, people who work in retail and sprinkle Halloween in one aisle and Christmas in the next and, of course, moms.

Although fall is by far my favorite season, a tiny bit of my autumn joy has been stolen since I got married and had kids. My fall to-do list has multiplied since becoming a mom. “Check out new fall TV line-ups” has now been replaced with less “fun” chores.

These tasks are dreaded all year by most moms I know. They include:

The “whose family are we going to for what holiday so everyone we’re related to can be happy and we can be miserable” traditional seasonal fight with your husband:

To be fair, we’ve got the cutest daughters in the world. Unfortunately, they are the only grandchildren in both mine and my husband’s family. So, we’re in high demand. And, of course, by ‘we’ I clearly mean the children. It’s very common for my husband and I to stay up all night packing everything we own so we can crisscross the state through a snow storm in the middle of the night with screaming children. We do this only to arrive at our destination and have our children snatched from our hands and swooned over while we collapse onto the couch without so much as a hello. Once we’re acknowledged it is with a well-meaning “You look awful. You really need to take better care of yourselves. You should get more rest.”

All this is done, of course, so that we can spend the night (if five hours counts as a night), wake up to share a meal with said family and then pack it all up, stuff it back into the mini-van and head out to a dinner hosted by the other side of the family—four hours away.

I have a friend who, in negotiations with her husband, traded every single major holiday of the year just so that Christmas could be spent in her hometown and she and her husband would never have to have this fight again. She should take that poker face to Vegas. I would’ve folded.

In order to please everyone and ensure you’ll still be married by Christmas, negotiations really need to start in the fall. Recently, our discussions on the matter took an interesting turn as we found we were each advocating for the other’s family to ‘get us.”

Shopping:

If there is ever a test of faith, it’s preparing for Christ’s birth in your heart while trying to find a parking spot at the mall. This is done to the soundtrack of car horns honking and people swearing at each other. Once in the mall, you can’t make a purchase without giving out your e-mail, phone number and zip code to the sales person, so you can be harassed and reminded of this experience all year long with ill-timed phone calls.

And there’s always those super uplifting human interest stories about humanity at its finest on TV. The one where people are willing to stampede each other for a $40 toy. Let’s not forget our favorite holiday dance: stretching that family budget to include buying gifts for people because they bought one for you/your kid last year and you were mortified they were not on your list and you were empty-handed.

The Christmas Card Picture:

Please tell me I’m not the only mother who turns into an insane beast of a woman when it comes time to take the photo for the family Christmas card. If I had to pick the worst four hours of my year, it would be taking the Christmas card picture. And, yes, it does take four hours. It is also the hardest workout I do all year, and for what? To capture the fact that my kids refuse to smile for a picture, someone is shoving their finger up their nose, the baby is crying and my make-up is dripping down my face with beads of sweat?

Between takes I scream, “Everyone shut their mouths, stop crying and smile or I’m canceling Christmas!” All of this just so we look like a big happy family in the photo card that has “Christmas blessings” scrolled across it. Last year, I attempted running this marathon while pregnant, and the whole thing actually put me into contractions. We’d already received cards form more successful friends who got their cards out the first week of December. Card after card made me wonder if all of our friends’ children had become catalog models or the face of dental offices.

If you look closely at our card from last year you can see me digging my fingernails into my husband’s leg because we were going on photo shoot hour three, and I was realizing that our photo wasn’t going to have the same fate as every other family we’d ever met. I was going off the edge. Nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a nervous breakdown over a photo card.

Enjoy the Season

This year I’m putting this on my list. Amid all of the stresses the holiday season brings to motherhood, our Church gifts us with the season of Advent. When everything around us defines Christmas by slapping a manufacturer’s label and price tag on it, our liturgical year builds in time for us to prepare our hearts for the real gift of Christmas, Jesus. We’re asked to quite our hearts and our mouths and prayerfully reflect on what this gift means to us.

We’ve decided that this year, no one is going to “get us” for Christmas Eve. You don’t have to travel to meet Baby Jesus. We’ll celebrate in our home and invite others to join us here. They can drive.

We’re not above bribes. We’ll use the kids to lure our families to our side of the state. We won’t tell them they’ll be sleeping on pink and purple twin sized beds in little girl rooms. They’ll also have to get up in the middle of the night to go out in the cold and create reindeer tracks in the snow to enhance the Christmas morning experience for our daughters.

Our daughters will receive three gifts from us. Because if it’s good enough for the baby Jesus, it’s good enough for us.

As for the Christmas card, maybe if I attempt to do a funny ‘out takes” type card we’ll finally get that Norman Rockwell family Christmas photo. It is baby Jesus’ birthday. If our Blessed Mother can ride a camel across her country while nine months pregnant, I think I can pack my kids into a mini-van and drive across the state to see family over the holiday season. I believe in Christmas miracles.

Now Thanksgiving, that’s another story. We’re still trying to work that one out……

No Extraordinary Anniversary

This past weekend marked our fifth wedding anniversary.

Five years ago we married, and then canceled our honeymoon to Rome. Instead, our “honeymoon” was spent in the hospital. My husband had his first heart surgery a week into our marriage.

I wasn’t too fazed by the canceled honeymoon. There were bigger issues at hand, clearly. Plus, we’re dreamers. It’s how the Holy Spirit drew us together to begin with.

So, as young love goes, naive promises were made as we held hands in an ICU and glanced into our future to get through our rough present.

On our fifth anniversary there’d be a vacation, a ring upgrade, a new dress. Maybe even a little one to shuffle off to grandma and grandpa’s house before heading off to somewhere luxurious.

And here we are. Five years, a job loss, four moves, another heart surgery, three kids, a miscarriage, a graduate degree, a broken leg and two broken mini-vans later.

You may be surprised, but I’m not writing this from an island resort.

I woke up this morning to find two toddlers had crawled into our bed, and my husband had crawled out. He had stayed up late working, gotten up in the middle of the night with the baby, and was zonked out on the couch.

That’s romance, friends.

There’s defiantly not a vacation anywhere in our near future and I’m fairly certain my wedding ring is chipped. We’ll have to put that on the list of things to look into.

The real life version of our ocean-view five year anniversary was an afternoon in the backyard. The kids were in swimsuits and daddy was playing with the settings on the hose sprayer. Our daughters shrieked in delight and scurried back and forth between daddy and the fence. Chubby toddler toes on wet grass is close to perfection - until it’s time to come in the house.

I watched this weekend from the lawn chair as I fed the baby. I certainly wasn’t wearing a new dress. The shorts and tank top I had on were on their third day of wear, and covered in baby-spit up.

Thoughts of vacations were pushed from my mind as I returned to reality and added “make sure rug is out before letting the girls back inside” to my mental “to –do” list. I returned to my daydream and began fanaticizing about purchasing a washer and dryer. We’ll have to put that on the list of things to look into.

Anniversary gifts haven’t been exchanged yet – mostly because the checkbook hasn’t been balanced for the month and we don’t like to make extra purchases until we’ve got the month figured out. We’ll have to add the banking and budget to the list of things to do before Monday.

Once the little ones were hosed off, we headed in-doors to make heart cupcakes. Fingers were dipped, an egg shell was dug out of the garbage and licked and pink sprinkles tumbled across my newly-cleaned kitchen floors. The big girls decorated cupcakes and sang “happy birthday” to mama and daddy’s marriage.

The weekend was nothing extraordinary.

There are big decisions being made over here this weekend. There are career opportunities to be weighed, new schedules to be sorted out.

At first, the dreamer in me was slightly disappointed. But then I followed the dripping sound coming from the bathroom to find three pint sized ruffled swimsuits hanging from the showerhead to dry.

I recalled my dream of married life and motherhood is much older than my dream of a fancy five year anniversary trip.

I adjusted the bathmat to catch the wet droplets of a simple, joy-filled afternoon and returned to the sun-kissed cheeks of my “Irish twins” who were sitting cross-legged on my kitchen counter.

They both wore frosting-covered grins because to them, playing in the backyard with mama and daddy and eating cupcakes in the same day is living in a fantasy.

We canceled the babysitter we had lined up for an anniversary dinner out. We got news of a fire we’ll have to put out and my husband has too much work to do. An evening out this particular weekend would have led to no sleep for him and too much stress on the both of us this week. It was hard to do, and not ideal. There is far too much “working” around here. Something we’ll have to look into in the next five years.

I dreamt of going on a cruise for our ten-year as my husband and I spent the evening talking about a big problem that we’ll have to face this week.

I remind myself the only cruise I’d be going on in the near future is bound to have Mickey Mouse captioning the ship.

I guess we’ll bring that dream back to reality during the romantic budget meeting we’ll have tonight.

Everyone is peacefully sleeping now as I reflect on the anniversary weekend. My husband will get up early to work and the baby will wake to take her medicine soon. I’ll have to add refilling her prescriptions to the list of things to look into this week.

For the first time today the only sound in my home is the ticking of the clock. It reminds me although I’m slightly disappointed that time, finances and a full plate didn’t allow for the anniversary celebration I had planned, I’ll never wish these hard days away. In fact, I desperately grasp every stress-filled minute for fear they’re too quickly slipping away.

Maybe by our ten year anniversary we’ll be vacationing. Just because we didn’t get there in these five years doesn’t mean we won’t in the next. We’re dreamers after all.

Happy five-year anniversary, Joseph.

You are (in jest) “the love and demise of my life.” You truly do sanctify me.

Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." --Robert Brault

And life keeps rolling

The old expression, “no need to reinvent the wheel” never made sense to me. It’s taken me all my thirty years to learn one of the oldest expressions in the book is basically preaching one very big life lesson: life is hard enough, don’t create more work for yourself than needed.

Unfortunately, my wonderful hubby and I have never been so good at this. We tend to go about things the hard way. Straight lines are too easy for us. We make several wrong turns and pit stops between points A and B. In our defense, life has thrown us in the ditch more times than most others our age, but I’m not one for excuses.

To be honest, we’ve had a hard year and once again we find ourselves at a crossroads. The fork in the road and commitment and choices that must go with each path has been our place of biggest mistake in the past. But not this time. We’ve learned this fear, anxiety and un-comfort with the coming changes is our call to prayer. This time, we’ve answered the call. Our decision process has been much longer and more prudent. Big changes are coming, but we know they are the right ones.  We’ve prayed diligently and have been rewarded by affirmations at every turn. Affirmation that we’ve discerned correctly has been our biggest blessing.

Loose strings will be tied this week and hopefully, the I’s will be dotted, T’s will be crossed, and the Rutchiks will roll onto the next phase in life.

So excuse the dust, rubber cones and confusion, the Rutchiks are under construction these days.

For today, I share with you the first step in our new life – the new “Rutchik family van.” I’m so excited to have a van again and Joseph is equally pleased. One of his favorite daddy moments is driving his sleeping family of ladies late at night in the dark. We’ve spent a lot of time together in the van these past 2 weeks as we prepare for our next step in life. It’s been fruitful time for our family’s present and future.

3 carseats in the back of a car was not working out. We couldn't get our bags from the market to fit in the trunk and nobody was happy.

Our "new to us" van.

The new van has space for our new and improved family. Who wouldn't want to ride with this little gal?

First trip through the car wash.

Anna likes the new van, but not the carwash!

A Theological Crisis in the Bathroom

Last night was crazy here in Central Wisconsin! Out of no where the temperature went up to over 80 degrees and brought with it a lot of severe storms. Joseph took “his girls” out for ice cream and all 3 of us were wearing sun dresses that no longer fit! Mine a bit too taught around the middle due to the large belly and Tessa and Anna’s dresses from last year have become far too short! It was too hot for this mama to care, so out for ice cream we went.

We knew severe storms were called for, so we needed to get out and pick up some batteries for the flashlight. We made it home just in time for the tornado sirens to go off. We don’t have a basement, so we collected our newly working flashlight, the computer, some candles and the girls’ blankies and had a family party in the bathroom!

I was surprised to learn that Tessa was really afraid of all the thunder and lightening. The lightening really seemed to get her. Before we made our way into the bathroom I assured her there was no need to be scared, but that if she hears that siren she always needs to find mommy, daddy or a grown up to go with – just like when the smoke detector goes off. She could not be settled (and neither could her curly hair I may add, her mop top could seriously be used by the national weather service!).

Once in the bathroom so continued to tell everyone to relax. It became very apparent to mommy and daddy that she kept repeating this because she was really having a hard time. I reminded her that sometimes when we are scared we can always ask Jesus, Mary or God to please help us not to be scared anymore. She listened, was quite for a few minutes and then the questions I thought I wouldn’t get as a parent for another 10 years started pouring out of my 3 year old.

TESSA: “Mama, why ask Jesus and Mary and God to make me not scared of the lightening when they could just make the storm stop?”

MAMA: “Well, God is so big that we can’t always understand Him, but even when we don’t understand we know one thing for sure; He loves us more than anything, so we can ALWAYS ask Him to help us,”

TESSA: “Yeah, but if he loves me he’ll take the storm away so I don’t have to be scared anymore?”

MAMA: “Well, no,” I said. God doesn’t always do what we ask of Him, He loves us so much and knows better than we do what is the best thing for us. He is even smarter than mommy and daddy.”

TESSA: “But why does he want me to be scared? That’s not very nice of Him, that’s not loving.”

While Tessa sat on a bathroom stool asking all the questions of faith and life, Joseph and I made eyes of desperation and shock at each other through the bathroom mirror. I was literally saved by the bell when the siren stopped and I excused myself to go into the living room and check the TV to see if the storm had passed.

The all clear was given and our family theology session in the bathroom ended. Later, during night time prayer Tessa thanked Jesus for keeping us safe during the storm. As I was mentally patting myself on the back for my awesome parenting she interrupted my prideful moment:

TESSA: “See mama, God will take the storm away when I ask him to. So I don’t have to be scared. Because He DOES love me.”

MAMA: “Umm, well, that’s not really…ummmm..not every time…. He didn’t…ummmm. Goodnight! I love you!”

Apparently I was chocking on all my pride!

So God won’t ALWAYS clear Tessa’s path of storms. I know I’ll have to teach her about redemptive suffering someday.

But really, cut me a break, I’ve got a 3 year old theologian on my hands here and I was sitting crossed legged on a cold title bathroom floor, nine months pregnant in a tornado warning. I can only do so much.

Clearly I need to start asking for God to guide me in my parenting of my very intuitive and inquisitive daughter!

I never do this because I always feel gross around this time. But now I wish I had done it with Tessa and Anna - so here I am!

The Working Mother

I’m a working mother. In my opinion, the words “mother” and “worker” are synonyms.

I don’t claim to understand the inner workings or mystery that is God. I believe the vastness of His love is too much for our mortal, fallen minds to grasp.

I am sure our worth is not found in a paycheck and that every life holds the same amount of value. That amount does not begin with a dollar sign.

This is not the mind set of our culture. Questions such as “what do you do?” and “what are you?” are quick to form on the lips of strangers and long lost friends. The answers sought are often job titles, and expected as definitions of a person instead of how a paycheck is earned.

When a mother is asked what she “does” there is often a qualifier placed in front of her answer, either by herself or the person she’s speaking to. “Oh, I’m JUST a mom,” or, “so you JUST stay home?”

Don’t cut yourself short, moms! There’s no “just” about this gig! Let’s all get together on one thing; in the language of motherhood, “just” should indeed be treated as a four letter word. Let’s not say it about ourselves or let others use it in reference to our vocation.

There are many calls to the same vocation. This is especially true of motherhood. Some are called to be the family breadwinner; some are called to be home fulltime, some half time. There are mothers who are called to bring new life into the world yearly during their season of fertility in the form of a new baby while others carry the cross of infertility. Some mothers are called to mother children of the world who have no mother.

As mother, the one thing we all have in common is that we are all called to live our lives breathing life into the world, be that into little souls trusted in our care or in the many other ways God calls that breath from us into the world. It is fruitful. It is good, and it is different in each mother.

I am currently called to be a work at home mother. Working from home is stressful, but worth it for our family. I started working from home for a family centered company when our second daughter was two months old. The opportunity was a God send for me.

Joseph and I had just had two daughters in one year and realized we needed an additional source of income. Over these two years my commitment has varied. My role and time commitment has nicely settled into about 15 hours a week.

My freelancing career has grown greatly over these past two years. On average, I am working on freelance assignments about10 hours a week, putting my total weekly working hours at about 25.

The addition of these freelance hours has helped me become a better worker and a better mother. When I found myself too overwhelmed with these commitments I took a step back and really discerned how I work.

I used to “work” all throughout the day. Making a phone call here and there, checking my e-mail every hour and answering e-mails as they came in. At the end of the day I had really only “worked” maybe an hour and a half. Yet, I felt like I was working all day every day and that the TV was babysitting my children.

My husband and I decided this was not working for our family and after much discernment, we decided that although I am still called to be a work at home mother, how I went about it needed to change. With my freelancing growing we decided it was time to make room in our lives for me to have some solid and defined working time.

For the past few months we have set aside larger blocks of time for me to work. Instead of always feeling like my mind was on work while my kids fit between those stresses, we’ve shifted our focus. I work less days but for longer periods of time. This has created less time stressing about work and more time actually working. It’s been a wonderful change for me mentally and it’s been great for my projects and my motherhood. I’ve been able to take on more freelance work and feel the publications I work on for my job have become better as a result.

The last trimester of this pregnancy has been one of great discernment for this work at home mother. I have a masters degree and the student loans that often accompany such a degree. In the past month many have asked me when I am going to “use” my degree.

My favorite question is, “when are you going to stop wasting your degree and go back to work?”

The question boils my blood. I do work. I am a mother, and a working mother at that. Just because I don’t leave my house everyday does not mean I’m not working, that I’m wasting my education or that I am financially lazy.

A few doors were recently opened to me and there was the possibility of me going back to work, full or part time, outside of the home.

During the daytime hours I was able to talk myself into this. I thought of all the debt we could pay off, vacations we could take and stress that would be taken off our plate.

But, the night. The night was another story.

For a few days I was unable to sleep and didn’t know why. Then I started having panic attacks. As perfect as the plan sounded, I am not called to it. I am called to be doing what I’m doing. I am home with my kids AND I work. The way our family pieces that all together is unconventional, but it works for us.

I feel so blessed to be home with my girls, doing a job I really like, working with people who share the same values as we do and building my writing career right along side my family. We are willing to sacrifice to live in the way we feel called. Just as mothers who work full time outside of the home are willing to sacrifice things to fill the role they are called to as a mother. Same vocation: different and equal call.

Like many other things in life, motherhood seldom goes exactly as expected. I learned this lesson in my first days as a mother when I was unable to breastfeed. I was heartbroken. I had convinced myself that to be a good mother one MUST breastfeed. God did not create that opportunity for me. Instead, His plan was much greater. His plan was Irish twins for us. This heartbreak turned into the blessing we call Anna Clare.

As I write this, I am very pregnant. My mother has come for a few days to help take care of the girls and clean my house so I may rest and get ahead on my projects and job to prepare for the birth of our third daughter. On this very day we are both answering the call to motherhood. My mother on her hands and knees scrubbing floors for her daughter and I in a chair, resting so that the daughter in my womb may grow strong and ready to enter the world. Very different kinds of work, but work none the less.

Truth is, there is as many definitions of a good mother as there are mothers. We need not compare our situations and gifts to one another. Motherhood is not a competition. There need not be winners and losers. As mothers we love children, and therefore want all mothers to be winners.

We’re all working mothers. We are exactly the mothers our children need and we fulfill this call in many different ways.

Motherhood, in all its many forms is a high call and a lot of WORK. No ifs, ands, buts or “justs” about it!

Can’t Seem to Catch that Nesting Bug!

At 34 weeks pregnant I am now officially the biggest I have ever been in my life. I’m not ashamed of my giant classification. In both my previous pregnancies I have just kind of looked bigger. I never had that “basketball belly” and was really envious of women who were all belly.

Let me tell you, the grass is NOT always greener on the other side. Sometimes it’s soggy, and muddy, and difficult to walk in. I do have myself a basketball. I am all belly, lots and lots of belly. I can’t bend or see my feet. I “let” my 3 year old “help” me make dinner tonight because she thinks its fun to bend down and get the pots and pans out of the cupboards.

As I hopped up onto the scale at the doctor’s office this week the nice med tech lady put the little marker on the 150 lbs notch! Let me tell you, her finger couldn’t slide that thing allll the way to the other end fast enough! I laughed out loud at her.

“Umm, thanks, but you can go right ahead and switch that up to the 200 notch down there” I said.

She didn’t respond. Must be protocol.

She does have my chart in her hand, right? I thought to myself.

I spent my entire appointment wondering if medical professionals have a whole day of class in their programs about NOT offending women on the scale. Because really, there is no way any person in their right mind would take a look at me and put that notch on 150. I’m still laughing. Not only am I huge, but I am also 5’9. That lady was insane, or blind.

The whole thing reminded me of the time my husband had to be given a “mesh shirt” to wear. He was having a 24 test done on his heart and the mesh shirt was supposed to hold the wires and leads hooked up to his chest in place.

This mesh shirt was one size fits all -at the children’s hospital - he’s 6’6.

“Don’t worry, it’ll stretch,” the lady hooking him up to the test said.

The mesh tank top was a neon green sports bra on his broad frame. He looked like a cross dresser on his way to a rave.

Up until recently we have been thinking we may move before baby makes her grand entrance. Now that we know we will be living in our current location when she arrives, I need to get down to business. This week’s events on the scale and the need to enlist a 3 year old as my sous chef have me thinking I’m running out of time. For crying out loud, we made dinner on the floor tonight so mama could rest. We were boiling raviolis. I had to sit and rest in the middle of putting water into a pot and dumping in raviolis. I turned it into a counting game for Tessa because I’m a mama, and we need to turn our lazy moments into educational activities for our children to get through the day.

I better get going before I become immobile. This basketball belly is so large there is impending danger that being upright may just cause me to topple right over. There are young ones underfoot here, I can’t be toppling over. Not when my house is this messy. Someone could be injured.

There is one problem. I just haven’t gotten that nesting bug. I’ve been bitten by it before. It makes a woman a crazy cleaning machine. The only time in my life I have ever cleaned behind an appliance has been while pregnant. I don’t naturally think of those things. I’m a pile maker and a pick up so I can redecorate or rearrange the furniture kind of gal. I need to be bitten by the nesting bug, and fast.

All the baby clothes are still packed in bins in our garage and we haven’t even thought about if we will be setting up the crib or the pack and play in our bedroom. I did order a new bouncy seat offline. It came 2 weeks ago. The huge box it came in sat in our living room and served as Tessa and Anna’s “bus” until just the other day when my husband took it out with the recycling. As for the bouncy seat, I opened the box. It’s now sitting in our bedroom unassembled.

I thought I had maybe been bitten by the nesting bug this afternoon. But, now here I sit. “Cleaning” out my stack of magazines in the lay Z boy and watching Grey’s Anatomy. I am clipping the coupons and tearing out yummy looking recipes. And, I will collect the magazines into a bag when I am done and ask my husband to take them to recycling after we all trip over the pile for a few days. So, it counts. Right?

**Prayer Bubby: Wow! I really need you! Thanks for all your prayers and PLEASE keep them coming. Lots of big things to be thinking and praying about over here right now. Hoping to post about some of them soon, but for now, thank you and please don't stop!**

My Sous Chef

The Power of Space, the Value of Things.

There are too many things in my life. They don’t only clutter up our limited living space, they clutter up my mind and feed the anxiety monster living within me. This monster only comes out to play when I am tired, run down, stressed out or have been cooped up for far too long during a Wisconsin winter. Darn anxiety monster knows when I am weak.

Pregnancy is always a great blessing for me because I have difficult pregnancies, which seem to increase in difficulty with their number. This may sound like a cross, but I can’t view it that way because I get far too much out of the experience to label it anything but positive and fruitful. I have grown (in many ways!) and learned so much about myself and my relationship each time we’ve been blessed with life.

This pregnancy has been hard. Really hard. Although I’m not sick from second pink line to delivering a pink little baby as I have been in the past, I am having many of the issues usually associated with 35 plus weeks pregnant at 26 weeks. I currently have a kidney infection, my blood pressure is up and I’m spilling protein. I’ve taken these things as a reminder to slow down and give myself a break.

When you’re a working mama, “break” is not generally in your vocabulary. There are too many things to take care of, keep up with and clean. Being blessed with the gift of being uncomfortable has given me some time to reflect and discern what our needs as a family really are.

The truth is, many of the things that need to be picked up and cleaned don’t really need to be in our living space at all. The children don’t need bins and bins of toys and I don’t need to keep every book I’ve ever read or every memento I’ve saved throughout my life.

These things aren’t just cluttering up our home. They feed the anxiety monster within me and when they run out of space in our home, they set up camp in my heart – stealing room in my soul that’s intended for honest and true things such as my relationships, dreams and faith.

In other cultures; three generations of a family live in the same amount of space we are currently calling home. It is written on a wife and mother’s heart to make a home for her family in whatever space they are living. It’s a spiritual gift ingrained within every women. Some cook great meals, some have a knack for decorating and the best of us make our homes comfortable for not only our family members, but for any visitor who knocks on the door. We desire for all who enter to feel as if our home is their home and as women we use our individual gifts to do so.

I was allowing things to steal this gift from me and turn me into a crabby mess, complaining about the space itself rather than what I am – or am not – doing with the space. This negativity was robbing me of the joys of family life in my home, and I was allowing it.

Pregnancy brings the gift of life into the heart of a family is so many different ways. For me, it’s complications have blessed me by lifting the fog in my spiritual life and reminding me that God’s granted me with the choice of how I view my life and my vocation. Tough times of stress and uncertainly are difficult when the temperature reads -4, the snow is falling and a family is cooped up in a small space. But isn’t time a beautiful gift! It is my choice, my vocation, to view this time of waiting for the new life of spring and the new life in our family as a period of preparation. We wait in anticipation and with joyful, not cluttered, hearts for the flowers to bloom and for our daughter to be born alongside the rebirth of the season of life.

In order to open our hearts and create the space for this joy, we knew there was only one thing we could do. We purged. We sold fifty percent of our DVD and book collections - only keeping classics appropriate to family life and our beliefs. We donated several bins of children’s toys and clothing and cleared a lot of space in our lives. I don’t miss a thing we banished from our home. Our wallets and our hearts are richer.

Our piles of things we sold to Half-\Price Books. The lady who paid me said she had never done a sale so big!

Tessa is all about babies right now. She has taken to building cribs out of legos for Mary and the Baby Jesus and "tucking them into bed" at night. We packed up the toys and clothing of the girls' to donate while they were sleeping and they have not noticed a thing missing!

Some Days the Rules are Different

Children need schedules and structure. So say the experts who have time to get their doctorates in child rearing or pop psychology and you know, sit down and write a book.

I bet those people don’t have kids. Or have one, and a live in nanny. They don't have their 3rd daughter in 3 years on the way.

Look, I KNOW kids need to know what to expect. They need to know certain behaviors have direct consequences. I believe this, we parent this way. Almost every day.

some days the rules are different. Because some days the rent needs to be paid. Today is one of those days. Mama and daddy are both working from home today.

The girls are dressed, sort of. Their hair has not been combed and the afternoon snack was indeed rice crispy bars. Said bars were handed out while mama was really busy with an important e-mail. 15 minutes later I retreated to the bedroom to sit on the bed (which has dried pee on it from a three year old’s naptime accident) to make an important phone call. When I came out the girls were once again eating rice crispy bars for a snack.

“I just gave them a snack,” I said to my husband.

“Oh sorry,” he said.

Daddy was busy. He was working on an important e-mail and needed the gals to have a snack. It seems he has the same tricks I do.

So we can’t live like this every day. But, some days the rules are different. Pretzels, yogurt and left over pancakes just have to count as lunch some days.

Locking the girls in their room to play the game “you can knock on the door to be let out after every book and toy has been picked up and put away” must count as the afternoon activity once in a while.

Who’s with me?

Daybook – New Year 2011 Edition

*and an update on baby Rutchik*

Outside My Window ...

It rained and all the snow melted, but it is oh so cold! On the plus side, our dead van has been towed into our garage. Does anyone know what to do with a dead van? We don’t want to put the money into fixing it, but it is a hard call as the week before it broke we put a lot of money into it. Grr.

***

I am listening to...

Nothing. The gals are sleeping. Joseph is working and I am “working” and enjoying some alone time on the computer.

***
To Live the Liturgy…

I am really feeling the lack of community I once found at Church. We have not officially joined a parish here. This is due in part to the fact that we are almost sure this is a temporary place for us. Once Joseph is done with school, we could move (again) anytime. Such is the economy! Before I get comments on the importance of joining a parish, I get it. I do. We are introverts and it takes a lot of work for us to build a community. I just don’t see the point when we don’t know where we will go to Church a year from now. But, I am hoping our next location will be permanent. We are leaning towards Catholic schools for our girls and I can’t wait for the community that will bring!

***

To be Fit and Happy….

Oh boy! I gained 5lbs the week of Christmas! I hadn’t gained any weight in the first half of this pregnancy, but I am making up for it now! I have never felt well enough to get the pregnancy hunger women talk about. I thought it was a myth. It is not, I assure you dear reader!

***

I am thankful for ...

A dear friend, and our two husbands who took the children last week so we could have a mama/work date at Panera. I am blessed with so many faithful women as friends. However, this friend is the only other writer/mama friend I have who truly feels her family is her first vocation AND feels called to a career in addition to her vocation. This has been a great blessing to me. She is a speaker and writer who recently revamped her blog, Women at the Inkwell. Go check out her New Year’s reflections. I promise you, if you’re a mama you will not be disappointed!

***
From the kitchen ...

I’m trying to get better about cutting our grocery bill. I’m too ashamed to even share what it has been these past few months. I know it is due to fast runs here and there, and laziness. So, for the first time ever I have planned our meals for the week!

Sunday: Salad and hot sandwiches for the Packer game
Monday: Breakfast for supper – pancakes, eggs and sausages
Tuesday: Roasted Turkey, potatoes, carrots
Wednesday: Turkey and wild rice soup, salad, rolls
Thursday: leftovers
Friday: Turkey burgers, Mac and cheese, apples
Saturday: Pizza

***

I am creating ...

Writing goals for the new year. I am currently only working on one assignment, but there are a few calls out with deadlines in the next month. The above friend and I are also working on a non-fiction book for mama’s.

***
I am reading….

I have continued my tradition of reading a classic over the Christmas break. I love classics and find myself more and more disappointed with my education in literature as I unlock these treasures I missed as a child! This year’s book is no disappointment! I am currently savoring the last chapter of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. Where have I been? This book is amazing, and really messed up. Perfect for me!

***
Towards a real education ...

Continuing with our “book nerd” theme of life over here!

I made a special request for Christmas that the gift of toys be limited. The gals ended up loving the toys they got and, my dad did a wonderful job shopping for the gals off the list of children’s classics I gave him. Needless to say, we have been reading so many good books for little minds.
For myself, I have been putting a favorite childhood series on my Christmas list each year. Last year I received Anne of Green Gables and this year’s treasure was the complete Little House on the Prairie books.

Although I don’t feel the call to homeschooling, I strongly believe in education in the home and can’t wait to share these books (and some geeky activities to go with them) with my girls.

***

Bringing beauty to my home ...

Structure, calm voices and enough alone time for all so we can accomplish these things.

***

I am hoping and praying….

That as Joseph finishes up his thesis everything falls into place. Timing is big here as a baby is coming and this mama is done living in this state. I’m ready for stability. Finishing Joseph’s master’s degree was the right decision for our family, but I am praying the new year allows us to reap the benefits sooner in the year than later.

***

Around the house ...

Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Our tree died while we were away, so Christmas is all put away around here. It feels good.

***

One of my favorite things ...

The kicks I’m feeling from the baby. This one is a shy baby, but there is really nothing like feeling them kick.

***

A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week:

Lots of work around the home and my job this week.

***

New Year’s Resolution/Word of the Year

I tend to keep my resolutions private. However, I am proud to say I met all of my writing goals for 2010! I am still working on praying about what they will be for 2011. The problem I am coming across is that for them to really grow beyond where I currently am, I am going to need time away every week to work. Joseph and I are talking about the possibility of getting a college girl once a week to come stay with the girls so I can go out and work. We’ll see what prayer and discernment bring. I also need to remember we will (God willing) be adding an infant to our home this year.

***

Baby Rutchik

Well, if by chance you are not on FB (find me if you are), we are expecting baby girl number 3 over here! I just knew it! We could not have avoided finding out if we wanted to. The first image that came up when she began the ultrasound was the “money shot.”

“And that is a baby girl!” I said before she even looked.

“Sure is!” the tech said.

We are really excited to stay “Joseph, Holly and the girls.” We were having a hard time with a name but think we have settled on something. The only issue is the name we picked is a name of many nicknames. Joseph is settled on using the later part of the name and I like a different form. I won’t share as I am sure we will change our minds. But, it has been over a week and I’ve started calling her by name when speaking with my husband. So, if her name is to be something else, it better strike us soon.

***

Picture Thoughts

I turned 30 over Christmas. Yes, 30. I thought it would be really hard but so far I am doing well. This is what it looks like to be 30 and pregnant with my 3rd daughter - in a bowling alley.

Two of the best blessings in the world on Christmas morning.



Once, twice, three times a lady?

Last week I had my big 20 week ultrasound. I am happy to report everything is looking great with baby "String"! Baby is measuring a bit small, but no one seemed too concerned, so I decided to try not to be either.

The night before the ultrasound I wrote the following feelings on finding out the gender of the baby, something we have never done. This post appeared as a guest post on Mom vs. the Boys - a great blog about a mommy to all sons. Now that it has been posted over there, I thought I would share it here.

Many of you who are friends with me on facebook already know what we learned about the sex of the baby - but for those of you who don't know, I will post that tomorrow!

Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady?
I wasn’t a little girl who always had a baby doll, dreamed of her wedding day or had a mile long list of future baby names.

I was raised with brothers, “the rose between two thorns” my grandmother called me. Although I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of life I knew this much: if I was going to be a mommy, I’d have a house full of boys.

Never being a “girly girl” myself, I didn’t image ballet class, hair bows and emotional breakdowns over receiving the wrong color sippy cup.

My motherhood dreams had a different sort of theme. Frogs in the freezer and monster truck rallies sounded like good old fashioned family fun to me!

The man who became my husband had a similar dream. He briefly considered the priesthood, but knew it wasn’t right for his life because he wanted to be a father of a different sort. Just as mine did, his images of parenthood involved little boys….holding baseball bats.

While pregnant with our eldest child we both just “knew” a daughter was on her way and decided to wait for the birthday to find out. After all, “there are only so many real surprises in your adult life” as people say. But, after 28 hours of labor we didn’t care what came out of me, as long as it came out. When our daughter was born my husband almost passed out – he thought I had given birth to a still born son. In his defense the placement of an umbilical cord can be confusing at first glance, and his wife may have forgotten to mention to him that newborns don’t come out pink and snuggly. Therefore, the announcement of a healthy baby girl wasn’t as climactic as TV dramas about child birth had convinced me it would be.

Twelve months later we found ourselves checking back into labor and delivery. We had stuck by our decision that gender is to be learned when baby makes their appearance, but we knew it was a boy. Except, it wasn’t a boy. She was a girl. And in a matter of twelve months we had become a family of girls.

Funny thing about pink things, they tend to multiply – and migrate. What started as a closet in the nursery full of miniature pink clothing turned into a room of pink and glitter. A year later our living room is covered in the feathers that have fallen off a play boa and our cupboards are stacked with pink and flowered plastic dishes.

Last week at dinner my baseball loving husband found himself raising his voice to two little girls.
“That is a fork, NOT a magic wand! We use it for eating, not waving! The next girl to use their fork as a magic wand will have their baby taken away!”

I tried to hold in my laughter. But, the next morning when he went to put his shoes on he pulled out a balled up knot of costume jewelry. The look on his face had me in stitches for hours. Things are too fun over here. Clearly God knew better about what we needed than we did. I wouldn’t give these moments back for anything.

As the pink took over, the thoughts of rowdy little boys faded. In fact, the thought of those rowdy boys jumping on my furniture and running up my grocery bill has become a bit frightening. We love our little bubble of estrogen!

We’ve got thing figured out over here, being a family of daughters. Just as my two beauty queens have helped me find my own inner girly girl, we’ve decided to add to our family once again. And here I sit. 20 weeks pregnant on the eve of the big 20 week scan. The element of surprise has been lost on us and in the morning we will be asking about the gender.

The gender of the third baby has become a bit of an obsession. I’ve been counting down the days and may have even purchased the IntelliGender test. I knew I should have left well enough alone and was acting like a fool when I set off the alarm in the store and had to take the walk of shame, showing what is was I had purchased and that yes indeed, I had paid for it. There I was, red faced and holding a blue and pink box splattered with question marks and promises that it could tell me what color rompers to buy. I couldn’t wait the recommended 10 minutes to read the results. When the test read GIRL I didn’t know if I was excited or disappointed. I felt the same as I had an hour and an embarrassing trip to the drug store earlier. And I was $25 bucks poorer.

Everyone knows a pregnant woman holds the right to change her mind. My problem is that I don’t know what I want. I go back and forth daily. Do I want to hear “it’s a boy!” and fulfill my dream of mothering a sticky, dirt covered goof ball? Or, do I want things to stay the same and be the family of girls, which I have so grown to love? Am I ready to let go of that dream of long ago and replace it with the pink colored reality that has turned into a dream? Will I have more than 3 children, or is this the final say on the gender(s) we will parent?

All I know is that I feel like a child on Christmas Eve. Waiting with so much anticipation that no matter what the morning brings, it may also bring a bit of disappointment because the excitement will be over. Then again, with my luck, we’ll have a modest baby who doesn’t want to share.

But if I was a betting women, I’d go all in on baby gal number 3!

Two Years of Anna Clare

A few weeks ago my second daughter turned 2. I’ve been thinking a lot about a letter I wrote her the first week of her life. I wrote about how much I loved her, and how I was so excited to see what being her mom was going to mean for my life. I also observed that I didn’t feel as though I knew anything about her, except that I loved her. To be honest, two years later I still feel that same way many days!

Her daddy was convinced she would be a he. After much waiting and worry, she came fast and before we knew it, we had two daughters. Her arrival sent us into such a whirlwind we had a difficult time choosing her name. She just didn’t “look” like any of the names we had picked out.

She has been difficult to read from the time she started moving within me and she has been difficult to get to know. She didn’t arrive with the goal of making herself know as her sister did. She has her own world, and has a tough time inviting others in – or caring much at all about joining the rest of the world. For this I loved her instantly, and this has been the challenge of being her mother.

She’s smart. Not in the way that she will recite facts we have made her memorize as is generally easy to do with a two year old. She has no interest in sharing her knowledge to please us; or anyone else for that matter. She seeks knowledge. It’s the very air she breathes. She wants to know how things work and will destruct anything to make that happen. Things are for a purpose – and it is ingrained in her to figure out what that is and how it works. She doesn’t care much for the aesthetic appeal of things. She wants to take it apart and put it back together, its color means nothing to her.

At age 2 she is already skilled at any and all things wires and cords

Anna is as sweet and loving as a little girl can be. She needs no affirmation and takes no direction. An empty corner and a project to figure out does more for her little mind than an audience. We had no idea she knew all of her numbers and letters until I overheard her whispering under her breathe while I taught her sister. I never taught her, she taught herself, and that is how she likes it.

There is never any middle ground with her. She is all or nothing. She lives constantly on one end of the emotional spectrum and refuses being taught to move away from that way of life. This is my biggest concern for her, and one of my proudest moments as a mother. I don’t worry about the trouble she will get into as a follower. Her own impulses are way too strong to follow anyone else’s.

Who says a little girl must laugh and smile at her birthday party? Why do that when you can read a book alone!!

This makes her a difficult child to parent. She cannot be forced to eat or sleep. Still, at age 2, she is up 3 times a night. Sleep training continues to fail her. She has not yet learned to comfort herself, nor does she seek comfort from her parents. She needs to cry and scream for hours and must get out what she needs to get out. She’s uncontrollable in a brilliant way. We have no idea what to expect from her in life, and although it is a very tiresome way to live and we have grown weary since her birth, it has also been one of the greatest joys of my life. Her daddy and I joke about how every grey hair and worry line can be directly linked to her birth, but that she will be the child to make a discovery or cure a disease and fund our retirement.

She is loving and goofy, the most serious and the silliest. She has an amazing ability of communicating with large animals that is foreign to every other member of her family; yet communicating with people seems to be a struggle for her. Fearless and powerful, if there is one thing I know about her, it is that she will always amaze me.

She makes me a better person. She teaches me daily that God has a plan and that sometimes it’s hard, but still perfect. She gives wonderful hugs and her smile has the power to bring joy to me like no other.
I can’t wait for her to be a big sister this year. I just know she’ll be awesome at it – and she’ll do it in a completely original and surprising way!

Happy 2nd Birthday Anna Clare!

Mama as Memory Maker

I had big plans for Tessa’s 3rd birthday earlier this month. I did that crazy mom thing. You all know what I’m talking about. When you get this idea in your head that a certain day or memory MUST be perfect and if it’s not your children will never remember a happy childhood? The pressure and motivation to avoid motherly guilt for eternity turns you into a crazy memory making animal ready to eat her own young if they don’t pose for that picture, smile and have a wonderful day? A day that will forever be branded into their memories next to where they remember you as mom of the year. Someone tell me it’s not just me. Anyone? A show of hands in solidarity – please….

Because my eldest daughter has inherited her photographic memory from her father, in the days leading up to her 3rd birthday I became obsessed with the notion that she may be able to remember her 3rd birthday all the days of her life. I decided allowing her to decorate her own cake, compete with making all the color and flavor choices would be the perfect gift for a girl who is 3 going on 30. What better present than to encourage her greatest gift – being the boss!

I hyped up the activity for the entire week leading up to the big birthday. She settled on yellow cake in cupcake form, chocolate frosting and that there MUST be purple glitter covering every cupcake. Mom of the year was within my grasp and I began patting myself on the back before the cupcakes were even mixed.

Unfortunately, my back had other plans. Little gal number 2 did some climbing onto the bathroom counter and my pregnant self decided it was wise to climb up after her to retrieve her thus saving her from any harm. It was the natural response – being mother of the year and all. Baby girl and I came tumbling down, throwing out my back and landing on my swelled tummy.

I was in a bad way and unable to move. I crawled to our brand new couch and there I stayed for the duration of the day. Once the pain subsided a bit I began to cry hysterically that the cupcakes hadn’t been made and I had ruined Tessa’s 3rd birthday. My ever supportive husband offered to make the cupcakes himself but I would have none of it. I had promised the birthday girl. Instead of trying to rationalize with a clearly distraught pregnant woman, my husband gathered every material necessary for cupcake baking and delivered them to the coffee table sitting in front of the new couch we had delivered that morning.

It took a while for Tessa, my rule follower, to warm to the idea of baking in the living room. Once she realized it was indeed allowed (just this once!) she felt as special as any three year old girl could.

It was a very happy birthday and as soon as dinner was served (on the couch) and the candles were blown out – this mama headed off to the ER. Sure enough, my discomfort was no laughing matter. I was having contractions! An ultrasound tech was called in to do a check on the baby and I was given some good meds to settle me down and make me more comfortable. Because the ultrasound tech wanted to double check everything was going well with the baby, she decided while we were observing baby we could try to find out the sex. I was elated!

Baby was doing well, but overly modest! So, no news on that front. It was a bit of a tease as we have never found out the sex of a baby before birth and are excited that this go around we’re going to try it out. Thankfully, I was too relieved and feeling too blessed to be all that disappointed.

The day definitely did not go as expected, but turned out to be such a blessed day for our growing family. I was reminded that I have the exact man God knew I needed as my husband, I watched 2 little gals blow out candles and get messy with frosting and I even got a sneak peak at our newest little blessing.

My husband’s ability to embrace the reality of the day and make the most of a bad situation created a better memory than the one I had scripted in my over obsessed head.

Three Years

Excuse the absence. We have been traveling the better part of this month. Joseph was away for a work conference so the gals and I headed off to my hometown for some time with family. Immediately following my dad had surgery and Joseph and I were away with him while the gals stayed with grandma.
I’ve many blog posts ready to post about our time away, but instead of advertising to the world that our home was sitting vacant - I decided to wait until we returned to share the adventures of being away from home with little ones for a prolonged period of time!

The day before our adventure began we celebrated Tessa’s 3rd birthday. What a blessing these three years have been. Many mothers who came before me have stated that once you become a mother, you forget what it was like to not be a mother. This is one of life’s greatest truths, and one I pray for every women to experience.

I distinctly remember the moment this little firecracker changed my life for the better. I often replay that moment in my mind like an old time movie too moving for sound. I had a feeling she would be a she, mostly because I was scared to death of raising a daughter. She has been God’s greatest teacher for me right from the beginning.

 Our first look at parenthood.

She was the baby that wasn’t supposed to be. There she sat, tucked away under my heart when a doctor who didn’t know anything about Joseph’s health told us she or any others may not be a possibility. Imagine how a little pink line surprised us a week later. Some weeks later an ultrasound showed there was no baby and another doctor told us the pregnancy was not viable. Masses were said, prayers were heard and a week following an ultrasound showed a nine week old baby thriving. I was surprised. Now that I know the little girl God has gifted us with I know I shouldn’t have been surprised at all. The week following my husband and I speed off the highway and down the overpass. Our van totaled and my face on the unlucky end of an airbag – but our little Tessa, asleep in her mama. The world and what is “supposed to be” has never held power over her. It never will. She’s too happy, too spirited, and too sassy to follow any type of conventional thought – or wisdom for that matter.

 On her first birthday - a few weeks before she became a big sister.

The Lord has great plans for this little girl. She’s an “old soul.” Already more intuitive and observant than her parents, she became a big sister at 12 months and was ready to run our home by age 2. She is striking in looks and in personality. Recently in love with any sort of princess she recently had her first viewing of Snow White in which her response was simple and true: “She is a princess. She is pretty because she looks like Tessa.” Tessa is filled with joy and the tenacity to challenge anyone who tries to define it for her or steal it from her. Her heart yearns for knowledge and to nurture. She prides herself on being “a lady” and announcing her beauty without arrogance and with joy – never forgetting to notice and acknowledge the beauty in others.

 On her second birthday

This year, God willing, she will become a big sister once again. She already talks of changing diapers and giving bottles. “I want to talk about babies” she often says to me, curls bouncing. God knew what he was doing when he paired her with her younger sister. They are opposites but have the greatest love for one another. When they reach out for each other to hold the other’s hand I see in her the greatest gift. She loves because that is what she was born to do. It is my life’s work to protect that in her. To never let her give that up, never let it be taken from her. It’s the tallest of orders. The call of every mother and it’s worth every minute of it.

Look who's 3!!

On Motherhood

Recently my attention has been drawn (in some pleasant and not so pleasant ways) to the differences between myself and the women I call my “peers.”

I’ve been drawn to reflect on my lifestyle due in most part to the extreme reactions I’ve received from friends recently. A few have e-mailed with questions of how I do so much in addition to being a mama. Some seeking advice and some sending notes of thanksgiving – filled with hope that they too may soon be busy mamas. I’ve also disappointed a few friends who seem dissatisfied with how much of myself (and my time) I can commit to them.

One of my favorite Catholic blogger mamas, Elizabeth Foss has a beautiful post about the type of women/wife/mother she is appearing on her blog this evening. Although we are indeed quite different (she’s a seasoned mama with 9 children), I see myself in the sentiment she’s expressing.

Our family calendar speaks volumes to who I am as a women and a mama. I refuse to overbook or fill up our days. More than 3 obligations in one week (even social ones) might as well be a prison sentence to me. I’m an introvert, and so is my husband. We parent as introverts. We’re not signed up for Gymboree, playdates and storytimes at the library. Of course social and educational activities are important and we do make room for them, but I am very selective. When we do something social, it usually takes us an entire day to recuperate – so I build that time into our lives.

We are very close with a family of extraverts and this summer we spent the 4th of July with them. The kids played outside, we took them to the park, grilled out, did some sparklers in the driveway and then drove to see the town’s fireworks later that evening. It was a full day of fun followed by a sleepover. The next day I felt like I’d been hit by a bus. My energy was gone and my kids wanted nothing more than to watch a DVD. My friend came out of her room with her 3 children dressed in another patriotic outfit and they started packing up to go to the parade. A parade! It was 9:00am! Thankfully my friend knows how I operate and I didn’t need to think of an excuse not to go. They headed out and my family stayed in their home, napping and relaxing. Sometimes I wish we could go go go and I know we miss out on some wonderful things, but it doesn’t make us happy. My friend needs those types of things (and so do her children) to keep their family running smoothly and to keep everyone happy. For us, we aren’t loving to one another when we are living that way, so for us I know I am doing what is best.

We recharge alone and at home. For myself, and for my family, I protect this recharging time like a mama bear. I don’t feel an obligation to return phone calls and e-mails in a timely manner nor do I commit myself to weekly conversations with friends. This is not, in any way, a reflection of how I feel about those friends; I just simply love my family more. I know if I did answer every e-mail and return every phone message that our family would suffer, and I am not willing to do that. I know myself very well, faults and all.

I also approach motherhood a bit differently. Although I do love to cuddle with my girls, I can’t stand having someone “on” me all day long. Attachment parenting is beautiful, but God did not make me that type of mother. I don’t long for a tiny baby that needs their every need attended too and if there is a child in my bed, I’m not sleeping. That period of motherhood is a large sacrifice for me. I’m loving in other ways. My gifts are intuition and council. These gifts are better used with older children. For example, every single thing I do in the kitchen is narrated and then shown to Tessa. She is then given the opportunity to do it herself. So, every dinner and every batch of cookies takes twice as long as it does in another home. She doesn’t just get to “stir” to playcat her. She cracks the egg herself and dumps it in the bowl. If there are shells, she is then taught how to dig them out. This is how we operate every day in the kitchen. Everything takes twice as long and creates twice the mess, but at 2 and a half she could recite to me, step by step, how to make many of our standard meals and – chocolate chip cookies. This time is precious to me and I give up other things in order to have it.

She also comes to me with things she would like to talk about. She knows she is not going to get a water downed answer. We have very real conversations and I commit a lot of time to these real conversations. We are strong and consistent in our discipline and following a consequence, there is a loving conversation because I want to understand why a wrong choice was made and help them to understand why their choice was wrong. So, a simple fight between 2 little girls can turn into an hour long event in our home, but in the end everyone not only understands each other, but everyone feels loved. I do not answer my phone during these times.

I am also a work at home mama. I actually really love my job. I don’t care for the amount of work I have. But, I have to say, even if we were extremely independently wealthy I still think I would continue this job (with slashed hours, of course). Not only do I put in hours with my job, I am also a freelance writer. This past year has been a good one for me writing wise and we now count on a few hundred dollars of our monthly income from my freelancing. This is a personal choice that was very hard for me to make. It does cut into my family time and it certainly has affected how much time I have for friends and social activities. However, after much personal prayer by me and my husband, we feel I am called to pursue this dream. It is not one I talk about often, but one I must begin acknowledging as it is affecting my life and the amount of time I can give outside of my family.

To those who wonder how I do all that I do, there are sacrifices. Chances are I am not nearly as social as you are and my house is probably not as clean as yours! We are creative spirits over here and sometimes projects and ideas pick us up and carry us away leaving our laundry pile high and our fridge empty. But, that is who we are, and I will not apologize for it because I love it. One week we’ll learn to sew, the next we’ll be painting. Some nights I’ll stay up all night long because inspiration has struck and if that means the girls stay in diapers the whole next day because mama is resting on the couch – then so be it!

The best we can do for our children, in my opinion, is to embrace who God made us to be and show them it’s ok to do the same. I laugh because in my life I have always been very close with people who would call themselves “type A.” I think there is something about the structured and OCD type personality that must be amused or intrigued by a person like myself. I have had wonderful relationships with many “type As” in my life. However, they seem to really love me for a time and then in the end, I wind up driving them crazy!

Truth is, the world needs us all! God has designed and made each one of us beautifully to reflect Him in different ways. We have so much we can learn from one another. God knows that. I have proof. I’m almost sure my first born is a “Type A” herself. She reminds us to put things away in the fridge and turn off lights when we leave a room.


When she was asked to help pick up today she responded, “Ok, mama! Who’s coming over?” No one, for the record!


She keeps us in check and we remind her that mistakes are ok and sometimes it’s fun to get messy.


What kind of women/mother are you? Are your days structured or is yesterday’s oatmeal still on your kitchen table?

One of THOSE days!

It’s been one of those days over here! You know the kind, nothing HUGE goes wrong, but every little thing adds up to the point where for a brief moment you think frustration just may take your life?!


I’m currently in the middle of too many projects and therefore not getting a darn thing done! Productivity needs to be a perfect storm for me. Having too much on my plate sends me into a panic mode that makes me lazy, tired and well, unproductive. Yet, not having anything to do does the same to me. I need the perfect amount of things on my plate to force me to be productive yet not overwhelm me. Don’t worry, I am aware of how high maintenance I am – as is my husband.


Funny thing though – life does not cater to me! Crazy I know! It seems every mama I know is chasing “balance” like it is something we’ll find in the back of our unorganized closet or at the bottom of the laundry pile.


I do know I have been craving more time to be a mom. Of course, I’m a mom every second of my life and forever more. But, my dreams outside of my family seem to be fading into the background – for now. I still have dreams, but lately I’ve been wishing I could just focus all of my attention on my family my home and my children. Projects, cooking and the education of my gals are at the top of that list.


I’ve been praying at lot lately about really appreciating the moment I am in and not wanting or planning for the future. My children have gone through a TON of changes this summer and as we transition into fall, I can’t help think about the fact that they are getting older and I will never have a 2 and 1 year old again. I want to hang onto this moment. My TO DO list seems to haunt me all day and all night and I don’t enjoy any moment of the day because I feel I can’t until the TO DO list is done. I think a bit more structure and some prayer about what actually needs to be on that TO DO list is in order!


Today was a hard day for me. I was so stressed out about the TO DO list that not one thing got done – other than stressing. Other things came up that needed attention and although things were accomplished, they weren’t the things I wanted accomplished for the day. I did take a moment in the car this evening to appreciate the fact that we got to the bank and took care of depositing a few checks I had been collecting. But, as I was enjoying the feeling of accomplishment, I got a bloody nose! The only thing in the WHOLE car I could find to help stop the bleeding while we were driving down the highway: a diaper! So, there I was, an overwhelmed mom holding a diaper to her bleeding face! But, all things have a silver lining: my hubby decided tonight we should go out to eat! God sure knew what I needed in a husband. Joseph loves to take things off my plate and place them on his own. Even though his plate is often fuller than mine!

What about you? Are you living in the moment? What do you do to move on after one of THOSE days? Ever used a diaper to stop a bloody nose?

A happy thought from my week: Tessa caught wind that some little ones were going to school this week. So she got herself "ready" to go herself. Anna loved it!