Rest

Today I almost (okay, I did) lose it several times (okay, really more like at least 100 times)...

I changed the poopy diapers of THREE kids still wearing those darn things.
I cleaned off the disgusting high chair at least 5 times. (I really want to take it outside and power wash it. Like, multiple times, people. Seriously, of all things baby, I hate the high chair the most. The crusted on food, the cracks full of crumbs, the constant stickiness...)
I listened to and forced myself to deal with multiple temper tantrums.
I walked away for a second, a second! and turned around to find out that Ava has figured out how to climb onto our kitchen counter...she pulls up with an above average grip, uses her feet as traction on the cabinets and then gets a knee up onto the counter...what in the world? I need to get her in rock climbing already!!! (Now, how to baby proof kitchen counters????)
I fed, clothed, played with, read to, hugged, kissed, timed-out (is that a word), fed some more, cuddled more, attempted a clean up of what I affectionately call toy-vomit in my house, played with more, cleaned up more...you get the idea, then called my husband to pick up frozen pizzas on the way home b/c there was no way I was going to cook and we had small group at our house tonight and more guests tomorrow night and Saturday night, I could go on, but I won't....

Aahhh...that's what I feel like right now. There's a lot going on and you know what I forgot to do today? I forgot to rely on God. I tried it myself and I FAILED. epic.mom.fail. If I could have a fail blog, today would be on it. I don't feel guilty, just stupid.

So, tomorrow (and the rest of tonight because I know there will be a wake up from deep sleep moment or two...or three):

Matthew 11:28-29 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."

Emotions

November is National Adoption Month...and I could write my own thoughts down, but some really smart, cool people who I want to be when I grow up have already written very eloquently about so many issues. Here is just one link to a post about Honoring First Families. Please read it if you're interested at all in adoption related issues. I think she does a great job with some tough realities.

Honestly, these past four months holding and cuddling Kylah have made me so emotional in ways I wasn't with Ali, because I have the beyond-words-privilege of being Ava's mommy. I missed her first 5 months, but her first mom is missing her life...for a myriad of reasons of which I know only a very, very few. I think and pray for her everyday, and I pray that Ava will know how much I love her as my daughter and how much I honor and respect her birth-mom. I trust in God's plan for all of our lives and I know He is powerful to redeem. What I pray is that Ava will find her identity first and foremost in Jesus Christ, that she will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is loved in this family, and that if she someday desires, she will also have an opportunity to meet her birth-family, if that's important to her. But if she doesn't meet them on this earth, I pray daily that God is redeeming their hearts and souls and that we will all meet in heaven with a celebration of recognition and joy at what God has done.

Outsourced

Birthday cake making ranks right there with changing poopy diapers for me...unfortunately I can rarely outsource the poop, but the cake...that can be delegated to Oma (aka Grandma) who actually enjoys the process of making an elaborate creation that is destined for destruction. But don't worry, Oma, this is the place that I can immortalize the amazing Dora cake...





Happy 3rd Birthday, Sweet Aliana!

Hmmm...

So, I'm thinking about doing this experiment, maybe officially, maybe on my own, but definitely would like to try...six items or less for a month...

Considering the fact I'm not much of a fashionista (that's an understatement; I mean, I wear the same flip-flops all summer, and only have 2 pairs of "winter" shoes. But I do love jeans. And t-shirts.), I figure it'd kinda be cheating for me to do it, but still, it's interesting. I'm guessing I wouldn't find it much different than what I already do. I must admit I often find myself only reaching for the same items of clothing anyway.

A much more radical experiment here: The Great American Apparel Diet. I tried this (I mean, not this specific experiment, but just my own "New Year's Resolution" to not buy clothes for a year) a few years back...I made it about 8 months and then broke down and bought some clothing article. Can't even remember what it was...

I find these experiments interesting for a number of reasons...lately I've been feeling like my house is vomiting STUFF and I'm so tired of it. But then I still want to buy stuff. What is that? I feel that God's reminder that He is all we need and the mandate to use our money for kingdom purposes is often drowned out by the materialism pushed on us by society.

I also find it really annoying that I had to push a toddler screaming through Target...for what, you ask? She wanted a piggy bank and by the time I bought trash bags and toilet paper (the whole purpose of the trip), the whole store knew what Ali wanted. A piggy bank. Didn't even know she knew what one was. So, the knowledge my daughter is also being programmed to want more frightens me. Because I have the same urge. And it's really strong when it comes to my kids. I love buying them stuff. And then I hate that my house is cluttered with that same stuff. An interesting conundrum.

Then Pete and I watch this on PBS last night: Beyond Babyland. Mega-convicting and a good reminder that there is a huge gap in our own country. I mean seriously, I have WAY.MORE than I could ever need while people are living in poverty right around the corner from me. And then I read this on the blog on earth as it is in heaven The disparity is huge. And I have to figure out a way to live with it. My way is to live with less. And I need huge reminders of that many, many times. I let greediness creep back into my life and forget the blessed and eternal ways to spend money.

And then there's this: Matthew 6:24 No one can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money (or the stuff money can buy).

Confessions

I am sometimes self-conscious about the way I look. There, I said it. But I think most girls probably are, right? And having just had a baby, my self-consciousness is at an abnormal high. And being in a bathing suit that didn't exactly fit all week on vacation didn't help. And the fact that only a very few clothes of mine fit doesn't help either. Thankfully my love affair with jeans for my entire life has guaranteed me some faithful standby pairs due to owning way too many jeans in a variety of sizes.

I was thinking this week, though, that I want to be careful about how I think about myself b/c I am a model to my girls. And whether or not I feel good about my weight or what I currently look like affects my girls! My identity rests in Jesus Christ, not in what I weigh, what size I wear, my hairstyle, my clothes, my face, etc...passing on the peace and self-confidence that can only come from a solid understanding of who I am as a daughter of God is so very important to me...and how can I teach that to my girls without deeply and truly believing it myself? So...I will NOT listen to the lies that tell me I have to be skinnier, own more stylish clothes, have perfect skin, etc. Even right now, when I'm obsessing (yes, it's true) about losing baby weight. Stop obsessing, Emily, stop! (That's a little self-talk for you...haha!)

And, after all...even if I don't lose all the baby weight...just look at them. Aren't they worth it? I am beyond blessed and so grateful for my 3 beautiful daughters!!!!

I like small butts and I cannot lie...

...come on, you know you're singing now!

When I was teaching middle school, one of the things I enjoyed the most was the running commentary I got on my appearance from "tween girls" who didn't really edit themselves too much.

"Ms. Johnson, you shoulda worn your black shoes today with that outfit." (I only had 2 pairs of shoes I wore...a brown pair and a black pair.)

"Ms. Johnson, did you get your eyebrows done?" (Why, do they need it or something?)

"Oooo...Ms. Johnson, you got your ears pierced again."

"Ms. Johnson, why don't you ever wear your hair down?" (Ummm, cuz school starts at 7:15 in the morning, which in case you haven't noticed is WAY.TOO.EARLY to wake up with enough time to blow dry my hair!!)

"Ms. Johnson, are you one of those white girls who's really skinny but thinks she's fat. Cuz you're really skinny." (No joke...this made me laugh out loud in class.)

And the best ever: "Ms. Johnson, you know they make padded jeans so your butt could look bigger. I have a catalog if you want." (I laughed here, too. This came out of nowhere, people.)

But the above quote leads me to the title of this post...

Luckily, Kylah takes after me and has (an apparently) small booty...because that's how she came out, butt first. Yes, she was breech and no, we didn't know until I was pushing. Pushing, people. The midwife checked me at that moment and said, "Oh sh*t. She's breech." If I were the curse-out-loud type I think I would have said something like, "No sh*t!!!" As it was, at that moment, I didn't even curse in my head. The room filled, I was put on a gurney and rolled to the O.R. Let's just say I was not the poster girl for a natural birth at the moment. I cringe to think that anyone might have seen me being rolled naked, screaming, and in general freaking out on the short ride to the O.R. I didn't even have time to think about much, other than the question of how in the world they could c-section me at this late moment...they quickly informed me I would be pushing the baby out...and push I did. 5 minutes after my arrival in the O.R., Kylah was born...small butt first, head last!

Pete likes to say the whole thing reminded him of a movie. My labor started at 3 a.m. Saturday. I let Pete sleep because he had just returned from a week long camping trip with students at 10 p.m. Friday. Around 6 a.m. I texted Lauren (best friend ever) to see if she would go for a walk with me. I didn't want to believe I was in labor yet...contractions would go from 10-12 minutes apart to 7 minutes apart and back to 10 minutes apart until Paul & Lauren took Ali and Ava to their house around 9 a.m. Then immediately my contractions were 5 minutes apart and closing. An hour later I told Pete I felt like I was pushing. (So much for the directions of 5 minute apart contractions for 2 hours before you even call the midwives to let them know you're in labor!)

Enter panic mode for Pete...he rushed to pack the car. I barely made the walk to our driveway to get in the car, and I SCREAMED all the way to the hospital with back to back contractions. Then I sat in a wheel chair in front of the hospital SCREAMING while Pete parked the car. A stranger came up to walk into the hospital and held my hand. Turned out he was the chaplain. God bless him. Pete came, pushed me to the elevator. Some poor dude just had to get on with us. Me, yep, still SCREAMING. Pete rolled me into the birthing center while I yelled...get me drugs, I give up, give me a c-section NOW! The midwife told them to stop filling the tub; I think they could take one look at me and know I was about to deliver. So...yeah, not the poster girl for a natural birth. From what I hear, some women are actually peaceful when they are in labor...not sure how that's possible.

They quickly checked me and I was 8 cm...they must not have checked for too long, because the whole "she's breech" thing wasn't caught then...not until 20 minutes later when I was pushing. We were at the hospital maybe 30 minutes before Kylah was born. When I said I wanted to labor at home for as long as possible, I didn't quite mean to cut it that close...but, well, everything was ok. The actual birth wasn't what we expected, but Kylah is healthy and I'm doing well.

So, there you go...I like small butts and I cannot lie...

Full Heart, Full Hands

When Pete and I started trying to grow our family four and a half years ago, I never dreamed I would be blessed in the way I have been by EACH of my precious children. My heart is overflowing with love for these beautiful daughters of mine and I cannot begin to put into words everything that has happened in our hearts during the years we have been praying for these girls. For now, enjoy the pics!!! This surprise third blessing especially taught me a lot about trusting in God's timing and His plan...enjoy the pics. Ali and Ava love (most of the time, haha), their little sister, Kylah Zoe.