Monday Morning Musings

This weekend had a lot of really good. It also had a lot of really hard. Such is life, I suppose.

-Friday started out with an unexpected day off for Justin....and 65* weather. What? The weather has been so weird this year--the mountain still hasn't even had enough snow to open for skiers and snowboarders! Anyway, the sunshine was much needed and welcomed for my sanity, and we took full advantage of the day with lots of scooters, bike rides, and a trip to the park. Then, while the kids napped, I planted a bunch of flower bulbs that I had forgotten to plant this fall. We'll see what happens with those!

-I also worked on my second quilt quite a bit and am really loving where that's going, and also had some time on Saturday to {finally} work on Becca's room and hung the gallery wall that I'd had sitting on her dresser for almost two years. I really like how that turned out, and think I didn't do too bad for not measuring or leveling anything or even making a plan in advance, ha! Becca is, of course, crying in the photo because she's been getting molars and is really puny lately. In this instance, I had changed her diaper, and then set her on the ground. Once her feet hit the ground, she started screaming hysterically and pointing to her changing pad and saying "Uppie!!" So, I picked her up and put her on her changing pad, and she was...still hysterical. 

-Speaking of Becca being hysterical, she is at that age where she knows what she wants, but doesn't always know the words for what she wants, which means that she is constantly frustrated and constantly throwing herself on the ground. She actually does a pretty good job of communicating--we have one of those "100 First Words" books and she'll often bring it over and point to something that she wants...but the problem is that she can't always HAVE what she wants. The other day she came over at like 6:30am and pointed to the chocolate bar. I asked her if she was hungry, and she shook her finger at me, said "NO", and very dramatically pointed at the chocolate bar. I asked if she wanted chocolate, and she nodded. Yeah, that turned into an epic tantrum. Babies are so weird, and this age is kinda hard in that way.

-This past week, one of our neighbors was killed in a pretty tragic accident at work. We didn't know those neighbors well, but I think his death hit both Justin and I pretty hard--for one, he was in his early forties. Second, he worked in construction, and was killed working at the same project that Justin had been working on for most of the past year. I know it probably sounds silly, but plumbing seems like a safe job. Not like a policeman or a firefighter. I really hadn't given much thought to the fact that Justin could go to work one day and not come home. But of course, that's true of anyone, any day, isn't it?

-Then over the weekend, we got word that an older man from church was in the ICU, and was not expected to make it through the day. He used to help with the youth group quite a bit when Justin and I were in high school, he organized the Easter Egg hunt for the little kids every year, and he was always in charge of the temporary tattoo station at our big summer carnival every year. Everybody called him "Uncle Charlie", and he really did feel like everybody's uncle. Kindness just poured out of him. He seemed to be getting better as the weekend continued on, but we knew that while it could mean he was getting better, it could also just as equally be a "final rally". He passed away on Sunday evening.

-We're having some electrical problems, which are completely FREAKING ME OUT. This is happening to different degrees to two of these same light fixtures in our house. My dad (who is a general contractor) and Justin have both pulled different lights and can't seem to find anything obviously wrong--no arcs, no weird wiring, correct wattage bulbs. Some research online has given us an idea of what's up, but J will have to call an electrician buddy today to verify, and I've been given instructions to basically not use these lights today, which is awesome. And I'm sure that's going to be a fun expense.

-So, you all know that Bones is my favorite TV show, right? Well, this season, one of the story lines is about one of the main characters finding out that he has a very advanced and often deadly form of cancer--Ewing's sarcoma. I seriously can't handle this storyline right now. I'm having to read recaps before I can watch the show. See, the weird form of skin cancer that I had about two years ago was a sarcoma. I know that there are probably hundreds (thousands?) of forms of sarcomas, but I also have my two-year follow up for my skin cancer thing this Wednesday, and I always get really, really anxious before any of my dermatologist appointments because I really just don't want to deal with that again, not to mention the fact that I'm pretty sure that the medical costs would bankrupt us. We're still recovering from the financial repercussions of last time. I'd honestly rather bury my head in the sand and forget that there is even such a thing as a sarcoma right now, but that's been hard to do. I know it is nothing compared to the grief that the family members are going through, but the two deaths we've experienced this weekend have been especially hard for me in light of all this as well. I just want to pretend for the next three days that there's no such thing as sarcoma, that there's no such thing as death, and that everything is just puppies and rainbows and ice cream. And I definitely can't handle the storyline of crazy-deadly cancer growing under someone's skin for years and years before anyone had any idea until it was way too late right now. Hello, one of my worst fears.

So, there's good. Lots of good. There's also a bit  that's making me crazy-anxious and borderline hysterical, and means that I want to eat ALL THE CHOCOLATE. Wooosah.

Snippets

-So, I made another quilt! I did a second whole-cloth quilt for a friend who is having a baby soon. Like the first, this one is so far from perfect, but it was also a LOT easier and more fun than the first quilt that I made, probably due in great part to the fact that I used a walking foot, the arm for my sewing machine, and quilting pins. Imagine that, using the proper materials made a difference! Ha! Anyway, I love how it turned out and can't wait to get it to its owner :)

I still have one little detail to finish up before I send it off, but I've already started on another quilt. I feel like it's practically a requirement to start a second quilt before finishing the one you're working on. But this next one is going to be the first time that I actually attempt to piece a quilt, and true to form, I'm going big or going home, with a postage stamp/scrap quilt. Those are really my favorite, and I just can't imagine trying anything else next. So, here's to imperfect quilt number 3!

-So, Lizzy a couple of weeks before Lizzy's birthday, we started talking about her party. I told her that since her birthday is in the winter and our family is so big and house is so small, we would probably just have a family party this year. Her response? "I'm okay with that. I've already adopted my whole class plus all of my other friends, so they can all come too." Hmmm, good effort kiddo. Anyway, sweet girl wanted to go TO Dairy Queen and eat a cake there. So, we did.

-The Seahawks are going to the SUPERBOWL!!!! Woo-hoo! My two favorite teams are the Seahawks and the Broncos, so I'll be happy no matter what. Justin is a pretty die-hard Seahawks fan (he grew up in WA near Seattle), so I think that he's pretty gung-ho for the Seahawks to win. 

That said, I'm really OVER the whole pretend Richard Sherman drama. Was he a little mouthy? Yep. Could he have handled himself better? Yep. But let's not forget that this was a super emotionally charged game against two rival teams, and there's a whole lot of bad blood there. Frankly, I think anyone who has ever played competitive sports knows that it can get heated, and I just can't get fired up about that, especially when there are countless other NFL players who are arrested frequently for drug charges, DUIIs, rape charges, etc. Rape charges? No biggie. But shouting? UNACCEPTABLE. 

-I am STILL recovering from being sick. I've been sick for about 21 days now, and though I feel better, I still don't feel great and still haven't gone back to exercising yet. My body just isn't ready yet. I'm a firm believer that there's a time and a place for pushing through the sickies, but this just isn't it. I'm worried that if I went back to T25 now, I'd end up in the hospital. Which means I'm a little ornery from the lack of good endorphins ;)

Repost: On Submission

Recently, the book Balancing It All by Candace Cameron Bure came out. In it, she talks a bit about SUBMISSION, which is a concept that I think almost instantly provokes a reaction in anyone reading it {am I right?}.

I've blogged about submission before, back in 2011, and to make a long story short, three years later, I'm still often frustrated by the way that certain Bible passages about submission tend to be used out of context, plucking one verse out of a string of several that are meant to be read and understood together.

I still feel strongly about what I wrote three years ago, and thought that in light of some of the recent discussion that's been going on {loved this post as well}, it might be time to repost it. So, here it is...

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 On Submission--Originally Published Jan 31, 2011

On Saturday, Justin and I were watching a movie called "No Greater Love". It was a movie that I grabbed out of the bargain bin, but as it turns out, it was produced by a church. Essentially, the story goes like this--during a time of great turmoil in their marriage, the wife walked out leaving the husband with their 10 month old son, and wasn't heard from again. Several years and several cities later, the husband and wife accidentally bumped into each other. The wife had found God and stopped drinking, but hadn't been able to find her ex-husband and son. Eventually, she finds out that her "ex" husband is technically still her husband--he never officially divorced her after she left. Anyway, they decide that maybe they'd like to reconcile, but she is nervous because she is now a Christian and he isn't.

During one scene, she tearfully turns to a friend and says something to the effect of, "I'm supposed to submit to my husband, but what if he tells me to stop reading the Bible or stop going to church?!" Justin and I both groaned.

In the past couple of years, Justin and I have observed this line of thinking quite often--sometimes at Bible study (as a point of clarification,we attend a Bible Study at a church that identifies itself as a "Fellowship" church, while Justin and I both identify ourselves as being Lutheran. Occasionally, some differences in application arise, as would be expected), sometimes just in casual conversation with friends--this idea that wives are called to submit to whatever their husbands say, even if they disagree. Justin and I have talked about this at length, both amongst ourselves and with our pastor(s), and I'd like to share a bit about our beliefs regarding submission in marriage. As always, I understand that not everyone may share our beliefs, and that's okay.

The idea that wives should submit to their husbands comes from Ephesians 5:22, which is a verse that was prominently featured in the book Love & Respect (and the corresponding Bible Study) by Emerson Eggrichs. However, it seems to both Justin and I that that particular verse often seems to be taken out of context. Ephesians 5:22 itself reads, "Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands as you do to the Lord." However, Ephesians 5:21 is often excluded, and gives us the context for the statement that comes after it. Let's look at them together:

(21)Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. (22)Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands as you do to the Lord.

In actuality, both husbands and wives are called to submit to one another. But interestingly enough, during the time that we participated in the Love & Respect study, verse 21 was never mentioned--this may have been specific to our particular leaders, so if anyone else has had a different experience, please chime in!

Taking a look at the Greek words used gives us an even deeper understanding of these two verses. See, the Greek word for submit, hupotasso,  is NOT the same as the Greek word for obey, hupakouo,  Paul does use hupakouo in reference to children obeying their parents, but does NOT use it in terms of wives obeying their husbands. Rather, the word hupotasso as used in both verse 21 and 22 roughly translates to mean "to line up under".

Essentially, the passage is framed like this:
Verse 21: Hey both of you--if you're going to do this marriage thing, you need to put each other first.
Verses 22-24: Wives, here's a couple of ways that you can demonstrate this idea to your husbands.
Verses 25-33- Husbands, here's a couple of ways that you can demonstrate this idea to your wives.

In other words, husbands and wives are both called to line up under the other--putting the other's needs above their own. It is not blind obedience, but an intentional desire to put someone else first based on a relationship that is hopefully rooted in love, respect, and trust.

How do you guys approach this pretty controversial passage?

Book Review: A Million Little Ways by Emily P. Freeman

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From the back of the book: The majority of us would not necessarily define ourselves as artists. We're parents, students, businesspeople, friends. We're working hard, trying to make ends meet, and often longing for a little more--more time, more love, more security, more of a sense that there is more out there. The truth? We need not look around so much. God is within us and he wants to shine through us in a million little ways.

A Million Little Ways uncovers the creative, personal imprint of God on every individual. It invites the discouraged parent, the bored Christian, the exhausted executive to look at their lives differently by approaching their critics, their jobs, and the kids around their table the same way an artist approaches the canvas--with wonder, bravery, and hope. In her gentle, compelling style, Emily Freeman encourages readers to turn down the volume on their inner critic and move into the world with the courage to be who they most deeply are. She invites regular people to see the artistic potential in words, gestures, attitudes, and relationships. Readers will discover the art in a quiet word, a hot dinner, a made bed, a grace-filled glance, and a million other ways of showing God to the world through the simple human acts of listening, waiting, creating, and showing up.

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Have you ever thought of yourself as an artist? 

I haven’t, not really. I like to take photographs, but to me that feels like capturing a moment in time, not creating one, and I think that in my mind, being an artist is associated with creating and cultivating something out of nothing. I look at other photographers and have no problem identifying them as artists, but somehow never consider that for myself.

A musician playing a song. A painter filling the canvas with color. A seamstress creating pants out of some fabric and thread. Those are artists.

My husband's an artist. My sister and sister-in-laws are artists. Not me. 

In hearing Emily Freeman talk about her book, A Million Little Ways, I heard her say once that this is a book for people who fear that they have nothing to offer the world, but secretly hope that they’re wrong. 

And that’s exactly it, isn’t it? So many of us, I think, feel like art isn’t something for us. It’s something for the painters and the musicians of the world. Emily Freeman argues that there’s already art alive within all of us; it’s art that we were born to make, and also art that we were born to live, and that our art can be expressed as a way to glorify God in a million little ways, whether we be moms and dads, teachers, cashiers, telemarketers, garbage men, or musicians on stage. Our life can be our art, if we let it.  

I read this book at a time when I felt weary and bogged down by the mundane. It was an encouraging reminder that we all have different giftings, and are called to do specific things at different times in our lives, but that regardless of what our gifting is, we can glorify God through it.

“I don't believe there is one great thing I was made to do in this world. I believe there is one great God I was made to glorify. And there will be many ways, even a million little ways, I will declare his glory with my life.” ~Emily Freeman, A Million Little Ways

There’s no doubt about it, one of the ways that Emily Freeman has been gifted is writing—she weaves words and stories together in a way that is captivating and enjoyable. As if you began talking in your living room with your best friend at 3pm, and suddenly looked up and it was midnight. 

Actually, I think that the best praise that I can give for this beautiful book is to tell you that I received an advanced reading copy of the book to review, and sometimes, particularly with digital advances, there are little glitches still being worked out. In this instance, my copy was missing every single double f. Effort became “eort”. Offering became “oering”. Stiff became “sti”. But Emily Freeman’s prose is so beautiful that I was easily able to look past it, and to all that this book had to offer. It was worth it. 

Overall? Even if you don't think that there's any possibility that you're an artist....

PS- The amazing ladies at (in)courage recently used this as their Bloom Book Club book. If you do read A Million Little Ways, I highly recommend popping over to (in)courage--they walked through the book with Emily Freeman herself and have a lot of amazing videos available to watch and posts available to read!

Disclosure Statement: I received an advanced reading copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for my honest review. As you all should know by now, all opinions are my own--I couldn't lie about a book even if I wanted to.

The Story of a Sister Picture

Yesterday, Lizzy turned FOUR, which seems absolutely crazy. I know that many of you have been reading this blog since I was pregnant with her or before, and I don't know about you guys, but for me, this is the first year that I've really thought 'holy cow, she really is a KID now.'

It's crazy. Hold me while I go cry for a minute.

Anyway, for her birthday, Lizzy wanted to go to a McDonald's nearby that has a huge indoor play area, and so we went. And for some reason, while we were there I got it into my head that it was CRUCIAL for me to get a good sister picture.

Even though the lighting was so bad that I had to shoot far more open than I wanted to.

Even though they were both wearing white, which is the most work of any color to photograph.

Even though they both had zero interest in this particular project.

And...well...it didn't quite go as I'd hoped. {Duh}.








"Aaaannnnd I'm done," she said.
So honestly, I was a little irritate at first. Because SERIOUSLY you guys. Sometimes, there is nothing more obnoxious than kiddos who are intentionally sabotaging a photo, which is exactly what was going on here by the birthday girl.

But, it's been more than 24 hours now, and I've had some space and time, and now...I kinda love this series. It is just so them. And I love them. And I love it.

Book Review: Where'd You Go, Bernadette? by Maria Semple

I actually don't know that there's really a question mark in the title. But I can't seem to make myself write the title without a question mark, so there you go...

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From the back of the book:  Bernadette Fox is notorious. To her Microsoft-guru husband, she's a fearlessly opinionated partner; to fellow private-school mothers in Seattle, she's a disgrace; to design mavens, she's a revolutionary architect, and to 15-year-old Bee, she is a best friend and, simply, Mom.

Then Bernadette disappears. It began when Bee aced her report card and claimed her promised reward: a family trip to Antarctica. But Bernadette's intensifying allergy to Seattle--and people in general--has made her so agoraphobic that a virtual assistant in India now runs her most basic errands. A trip to the end of the earth is problematic.

To find her mother, Bee compiles email messages, official documents, secret correspondence--creating a compulsively readable and touching novel about misplaced genius and a mother and daughter's role in an absurd world.

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So, this year there have been two sets of two books that to me have covers that are visually similar to each other and I keep getting confused about which book is which. The first set is The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman and The Light Between Oceans by M.L. Stedman. The second set is Wonder by RJ Palacio and Where'd You Go Bernadette? by Maria Semple (links are non-affiliate, if that's important to you). Anyway, I kept requesting the wrong books at the library, and then I'd get it and find myself thinking, 'this is NOT the book that I thought I was getting.' I did that twice. For each set. Don't ask.

So, I finally came across Jenn's glowing review of Where'd You Go Bernadette? and realized THAT was actually the book that I was wanting to read. And because Jenn and I generally like 98% of the same books, I was pretty sure that I'd love it, and informed Justin that I would probably me holed up in our bedroom all weekend reading. I finished it in about 8 hours.

For me, this book was a treasure. It was an absolutely hilarious book about so many timeless themes like parenting and art, but it also let you in to Bernadette's heart and soul in a way that I think is really unique for a lot of books. For example, Semple didn't just tell us as the reader that Bernadette didn't feel like she fit in in her community in Seattle. Instead, Semple told us that Bernadette, a revolutionary architect, donated a custom designed treehouse for a fundraiser auction at her daughter's school, and NO ONE BID. I mean really...as someone who has donated photo sessions for school auctions, and sat through that awkward moment when your item comes up for bid and you have that initial feeling of 'oh my God, what if no one likes me and no one likes my work and no one bids and I'll just have to sit here and smile?!', I got it. I totally, completely, 100% understood Bernadette with that one sentence.

And while not many of us are millionaires in creepy old houses who have become hermits and pay someone from India to be their personal assistant so that they need to have virtually no contact with the outside world, I think that there are parts of Bernadette that nearly everyone will relate to.  You'll laugh. You might cry. And you'll probably read through this as fast as you can to try and find out what happened to Bernadette. I know I did.

Overall? 

Bernadette Fox is notorious. To her Microsoft-guru husband, she's a fearlessly opinionated partner; to fellow private-school mothers in Seattle, she's a disgrace; to design mavens, she's a revolutionary architect, and to 15-year-old Bee, she is a best friend and, simply, Mom.

Then Bernadette disappears. It began when Bee aced her report card and claimed her promised reward: a family trip to Antarctica. But Bernadette's intensifying allergy to Seattle--and people in general--has made her so agoraphobic that a virtual assistant in India now runs her most basic errands. A trip to the end of the earth is problematic.

To find her mother, Bee compiles email messages, official documents, secret correspondence--creating a compulsively readable and touching novel about misplaced genius and a mother and daughter's role in an absurd world. - See more at: http://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/maria-semple/whered-you-go-bernadette/9780316204279/#descBernadette Fox is notorious. To her Microsoft-guru husband, she's a fearlessly opinionated partner; to fellow private-school mothers in Seattle, she's a disgrace; to design mavens, she's a revolutionary architect, and to 15-year-old Bee, she is a best friend and, simply, Mom.

Bernadette Fox is notorious. To her Microsoft-guru husband, she's a fearlessly opinionated partner; to fellow private-school mothers in Seattle, she's a disgrace; to design mavens, she's a revolutionary architect, and to 15-year-old Bee, she is a best friend and, simply, Mom.

Then Bernadette disappears. It began when Bee aced her report card and claimed her promised reward: a family trip to Antarctica. But Bernadette's intensifying allergy to Seattle--and people in general--has made her so agoraphobic that a virtual assistant in India now runs her most basic errands. A trip to the end of the earth is problematic.

To find her mother, Bee compiles email messages, official documents, secret correspondence--creating a compulsively readable and touching novel about misplaced genius and a mother and daughter's role in an absurd world. - See more at: http://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/maria-semple/whered-you-go-bernadette/9780316204279/#desc

Bernadette Fox is notorious. To her Microsoft-guru husband, she's a fearlessly opinionated partner; to fellow private-school mothers in Seattle, she's a disgrace; to design mavens, she's a revolutionary architect, and to 15-year-old Bee, she is a best friend and, simply, Mom.

Then Bernadette disappears. It began when Bee aced her report card and claimed her promised reward: a family trip to Antarctica. But Bernadette's intensifying allergy to Seattle--and people in general--has made her so agoraphobic that a virtual assistant in India now runs her most basic errands. A trip to the end of the earth is problematic.

To find her mother, Bee compiles email messages, official documents, secret correspondence--creating a compulsively readable and touching novel about misplaced genius and a mother and daughter's role in an absurd world. - See more at: http://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/maria-semple/whered-you-go-bernadette/9780316204279/#desc

Reassembling.

There have been times over the past year where I have felt like I’m vanishing. Disappearing into thin air, and no one around me seemed to notice. 

I was still there, physically. But mentally, emotionally, and spiritually? Less. 

This obviously had a lot to do with the crazy sleep deprivation that I experienced for most of 2013. Staying up from midnight to three or four AM was no biggie in college, but I could also nap whenever I wanted, and heck even skip a class or two . It wasn’t even that big of an issue when I worked full-time before Lizzy, because I had paid time off and sick days and vacation time, and heck, even a 30 minute lunch break where I could go lay in the car and nap.  But when you’re a mom, there are no sick days.  And so I trudged on, sleep deprived, feeling like a zombie, and looking like one too, I’m sure. 

I thought it would get better after the newborn phase, but it didn’t . Becca didn’t sleep. Like, ever. I think I heard about and tried, every single form of sleep training known to man. It didn’t work. She didn’t sleep, no matter what. And so I spent countless nights from midnight to 3 or 4am pacing, rocking, nursing, singing, shushing, and hiding under the covers while trying to let her cry (nope, never ended up working for her).

And that was really when everything else started to take a back seat.

Blogging? Forget it. I’d rather be sleeping. 

Reading? Nope. Rarely.

Socializing? Too tired.

Working out? Are you kidding? When? At 3am? Nope.

It felt like things kept fading away until only the things needed to survive were left, which basically meant MOM.

Mom, mom, mom, 24/7, literally. Justin worked, Justin led service at church, Justin went to school, Justin played baseball, and it was no more and no different than he’d done in past years, but somehow it felt like 100 times more to me, and I resented it, sometimes. But, I was also so exhausted that I didn’t even know how to form a coherent sentence to explain that I needed something to change. So, I mommed (and occasionally seethed). Mom, mom, mom, mom. Mooooooommmmmm.

One day, I finally broke down in tears after a date night, because I literally had nothing to talk about besides our kids or parenting. I didn’t even have house cleaning to talk about because that didn’t happen 95% of the time. And I don’t know about you, but I’d read 100 different articles that talked about the importance of cultivating your marriage around things besides your kids, and OH GOD, that was another thing I was failing at too. 

Justin would ask me to wake him up to let him help with Becca at night, but then I'd spend 40 minutes trying to wake him up, and by then Becca was so ticked that she'd wake up Lizzy, and by then, what was the point? Justin would tell me that I should take time to myself, but what in the world was I going to do? I was too tired to do anything. So, I’d sleep. And then wake up feeling guilty and cry because I felt like I’d wasted another opportunity to create an identity besides my kids. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? That I wasn't creating an identity outside of being a mom?

{Spoiler alert: It wasn’t the problem— I was just really, really, really, REALLY tired.}

Meanwhile, Becca required (requires!) the most hyper-vigilant sleep schedule in the world. Miss naptime by 3 minutes? It wasn’t happening. And bedtime probably wasn’t either. I remember those moms with Lizzy, and thinking ‘That’s no way to live! There has to be a happy medium!’

Ha. HAHAHAHAHA. 

That was all well and good and true with Lizzy, but let me tell you….with Becca, it wasn’t about living, it was about surviving. And that meant that no one was going to do anything to eff with her sleep. She napped late? The world stopped. Plans were cancelled. If Becca was sleeping? SHE WOULD NOT BE AWAKENED (or I would pay for it all night). Some kids are like that. Some kids aren’t. Some can be trained, some can’t. You do what works for them, whatever it takes. And seriously, if a former version of myself ever told you anything to the contrary, I’m so sorry.

Sleep deprivation? It is no joke, man. 

Don’t get me wrong—2013 was a year filled with amazing moments. Lots of belly laughs. Smiles. Memories that I’ll treasure forever. I look through that Flipagram video that we all made and smile so big, because we are truly so blessed, and so lucky. But let’s be real—sometimes, when you’re feeling really weary…when you feel like you’re dissolving into a fine mist…sometimes then, the knowing that you’re blessed but not feeling like it at the time… just makes it even harder. Another thing I’m doing wrong. 

Now, Becca is sleeping a little better. She’s not a great sleeper, and probably never will be, but there’s a morning, here or there, when I wake up and check my clock for the first time since I went to sleep and see 5AM, or 6AM, or sometimes even 7AM…which is a whole heck of a lot better than seeing 12AM, 1AM, 2AM, 3AM, 4AM, 5AM, and 6AM. Truly, it is amazing what a good night’s sleep will do. 

I’m reading again, a lot. 

I’m spending time in the Word, and just talking with God. 

I’m writing a little bit, here and there. Half-finished children’s books and blog posts and short stories, a curious number of which feature a character named Annabelle. 

I’m talking more with Justin about how we’re going to make it work together, and when we just need to say no more anything, no matter how worthy a cause it seems. 

I’m working out at naptime, even if it means the laundry doesn’t get done like I’d like or that the bathroom hasn’t been cleaned in a month. 

I’m feeling parts and pieces of myself beginning to fall back into focus. Become less fuzzy. Those parts were there all along, they’d just sort of dissipated and floated just past where I could see them.

It feels so much better. 

So, with all that said, if you’re there, in the thick of sleep deprivation right now, whether you have one kid or five? I get it. I understand. Forget the people who tell you that if you should be able to do x,y,and z because they did. Forget it. Do what you need to do to survive and cling to as much of your sanity as you can. No more, no less. Take a nap, any chance you get, and don't feel the slightest bit guilty about it :)

It’ll get better. Maybe not right away, and it may not ever feel like it, but it will, and you’ll be YOU again, I promise.