Do as I say, not as I do.

My BFF said it best, "Kids see it all."

Aint that the truth.

Yesterday, Ali said, "Hey, Mom, wanna know why I bite my fingers?  Cause you do!"

She's right.  I bite my fingers.  More like "chew" my fingers.  Many times to the point of shedding blood.  I can't remember when I started...sometime in childhood...and it's just become a really, bad, annoying, strong habit.

I've tried to quit many times: Band-Aids, lotion, willpower, bad-tasting-stuff.  I have been successful for awhile, but then I find myself slipping back into it; whether it be because of stress, boredom, or just subconsciously.

So today is day #1 of quitting cold turkey.  It's been 9 hours, and I'm holding strong at about 97%.

Do I think chewing fingers is the worst of the worst?  No way.  Do I even think it's wrong of me to do?  Not really.  But, my friend is right, kids see it all.  And I don't really want my kids to pick up on a habit they could otherwise avoid if I can help it.  There's a lot in this world I'm not going to be able to help when it comes to them; I accept that.  But surely I can help Ali think through stress management, time management, body management, any-kind-of management before she automatically goes to finger-biting.

Do as I do, not as I say.  In this case, I think it should read, "Do as I say, not as I do."

Hopefully I can turn that around.

Stay tuned.

 

Summer Planning

For the first time in 10 years, I have NO commitments this summer.  No job, no school, no nothin.  If you know me, you know I'm freaking out about this.  I was feeling particularly irritable this morning as we left church, and I finally told Joel it's because I feel out of control.  I'm not sure what to expect being a full-time stay-at-home-mom for three months.  So, of course, I started making lists.  However - in my defense - I only made a list for the first two-ish hours of each day, and I did not assign times to each "event."  This is big for me.  Of course, I know in the back of my head, after those two hours end, we'll find ourselves at the pool...which requires no agenda at all.

If any of you are like me and feeling apprehensive about the lack of routine summer may bring, we're in this together!  I'm sure you're determined to make the most of this time, as am I.  For me, this means putting down my phone for extended periods of time, even if that means not capturing every moment on camera (yikes).  It also means spending a little time creating order in my home and keeping up with age-appropriate learning activities, and spending a lot of playing/imagining.

Since I love sharing ideas, here's my list.  Do with it what you may ;)

Morning Routine

Get Up
Breakfast
Bible Time
Get Dressed/Brush Teeth/Make Beds/Clean Rooms
Morning Chores (Yes, the kids WILL participate in each of these)
     -Empty dishwasher
     -Clear table
     -Day-of-the-week-chores
          Monday: Dust/vacuum/sweep upstairs and main level
          Tuesday: Bathrooms
          Wednesday: Laundry and grocery shopping
          Thursday: ZONE and vacuum/sweep main floor
          Friday: Wash towels/bedding
Snack and School Time

ZONES (1/week)
Windows/Doors/Mirrors
Fans and Blinds
Baseboards
Cobwebs
Garage
Fridge/Microwave/Pantry

(I think it's safe to say, we'd all rather spend our summer on the beach, but alas, here we are)

On having 3 girls.

And just like that, she's not a baby anymore.  Well, in technical terms.  She'll ALWAYS be my baby. A quick look back at how it all started:

When Ali got old enough to walk up and down the stairs by herself, I started seeing something strange.  Zoey would run down the stairs, followed by Ali, followed by __________.  Yep, I started seeing a 3rd child in different places around our home.  At the breakfast bar.  In the bathtub.  On the swing set.

That feeling - the one "they" say you feel when you think you're finished or not finished having babies - it's real.  At least it is in my case.  In fact, it's so real, as soon as I found out I was pregnant with Emma, I felt our family was complete.  So much so, that I resolved if Jesus took her before she was born, I more-than-likely would still feel "done."

Joel didn't necessarily say "yes" to having another baby.  But as soon as he said, "Well, I guess I don't have a good reason not to have another one," I was in the dr's office getting my IUD removed.  I was hoping for an August pregnancy and a May deliver, but in true Eisleben fashion, I got a July pregnancy and an April baby.  April 16 to be exact.  Because, Lord knows, I wasn't going to celebrate the kid's birthday alone EVERY year.

By October, I was telling everyone I should've listened to Joel.  I was sick - most of every day; the medicine(s) took the edge off enough to allow me to function, but not much more.  The question that came almost as often as the nausea, "Do you think you'll have a boy this time?"  "I HOPE SO!" And once again, in true Eisleben fashion, our 3rd girl appeared on the ultrasound screen.  Yes, I cried, again, and put the poor ultrasound tech in an awkward position.

Emma was named a few weeks later.  Joel was in the living room, I was in the dining room.  He said, "How about Emma?"  "I like it!" I said.  Following our author-middle-name-trend, Kathryn was added a few weeks later, after Kathryn Scott, author of The Help.

Tax season started, I kept up with my daily pill regiment, and April 16 arrived.  Wait.  April 15.  This was supposed to be the easiest one.  Show up at 5:30 a.m., have a baby at 7:30 a.m., close up shop at 7:40 a.m.  After all, I had only ever gone into labor with Zoey, and that didn't last too long.  Emma was ready, whether I was or not.  My contractions STARTED at 2 minutes apart and never slowed.  I had the "pressure" everyone who naturally delivers a baby knows about, but I was set on another c-section.  In fact, I was going to labor until my scheduled delivery, even if it meant I had to do it unmedicated.  Luckily, I have a stellar doctor who woke up in the middle of the night and came to my rescue.

It's almost like she came out smiling.  I said, early on, "She smiles with her eyes."  Now that she's a year old, she smiles with her whole body, but it's still brightest in her eyes.  She is such a joy.  I parent her like most people parent their first child: I hold her longer, rock her to sleep, have a hard time leaving her in the church nursery, feed her "healthy" food...get sad when I think she won't be little forever.  She adds so much more to our family than just another kid running down the stairs.

I'm glad Joel couldn't come up with a good reason for us not to have another baby.  I'm equally glad I don't "have" to go through pregnancy, childbirth, post-partum hormonal swings, breastfeeding, and many, consecutive sleepless nights anytime in the near future.

I'm mostly glad Emma is a part of God's plan for our family.  My hope for her is she will know the love of Jesus is so much greater than our love for her.  I also hope you get to experience her countless smiles, just like we do.

Newborn

2 months

3 months

4 months

5 months

6 months

7 months

8 months 

9 months 

10 months

11 months

Musings of a new SAHM

For four months now, I've been a FT SAHM 95% of the time.  (Mom - that stands for full-time-stay-at-home-mom).  As the days pass, I am becoming more and more comfortable in my "new" role, and I can't imagine working more than I currently am at the moment.  I mean, really, I'm gone a maximum of 6 hours a week during the day, and about 1/3 of that time is spent running errands.  I hardly call the other 2/3 "work."  More like a hobby I really enjoy.

When I was a PT SAHM, I had this impression, and sometimes jealousy, of FT SAHMs.  They probably rolled out of bed after their late alarm went off, took the kids to school in their pajamas (or workout clothes), watched daytime tv, snacked all day, went to story time and Lend 'n Learn and music lessons and Little Gymmers and had playdates with other SAHMs.  I mean, I had the best of both worlds in my opinion: office time and home time.  Adult interaction and time to clean my house.

But really, I was stressed the hec out.  Mentally, it was taxing.  Changing gears from work mode to home mode in less than 10 minutes, trying to keep up with the house between dropping off and picking up kids from childcare and school.  I used to pride myself on my ability to multitask, physically and mentally, and now, well, now I'm just tired.  And not afraid to admit it.

Thankfully, I'm privileged to be able to stay home almost FT.  I never thought I'd say that.  My baby gets to sleep in her own bed for all but one of her naps each week.  I get to roll out of bed after my late alarm goes off, take my kids to school in my pajamas, snack all day, have playdates with other SAHMs, and if I wanted to, I'd watch daytime tv (it's just not my thing).  I clean and grade papers and do laundry and cook dinner, participate in a carpool, snuggle and rock with Emma, and breathe a little easier at the end of each day.

This week, I noticed myself making another mental shift.  I let my house be "messy" a little longer than usual.  I read a book to the kids in the middle of the day.  I scratched Ali's back as she laid on the couch before nap time.  I'm hoping I'm dying a little more to my daily agenda.

Some things still frustrate me.  I'm bothered by the nail polish stains on my kitchen table.  And the sagging of the couch cushions.  And the scuff marks under the breakfast bar.  And I wonder how a friend of mine can have an immaculate house and really nice furniture and have the same # and ages of kids as I do.  Then I remind myself of what I hear from people twice my age: I'll miss the nail polish marks one day.  I'll have a couch that looks great and is super uncomfortable.  I'll wish I could say, "Quit kicking your feet under the bar!"

Till then, I'll continue to pick up this crazy crib and try and relax a little.  Don't tell me your basement has never looked like this.

Six months of smiles.

Emma Kathryn is 6 months old today!  She basically popped out of the womb smiling and hasn't stopped since.  Beside still not sleeping more than 7ish hours at night, she is a perfect baby.  Here are some fun facts:

--Nicknames: Starvin' Marvin', Squirmy Wormy, Presh or Precious (me), Emma Kathryn (Zoey), Emiole or Emi (Ali), Emmacita (Joel), Emma Kate (Grandma)

--Tricks: rolling both ways, scooting backward, close to rocking on her knees, sitting by herself, little giggles, putting a spoon in her mouth, shaking toys, takes her paci out of her mouth and puts it back in, squealing/babbling (especially when she wakes up babbling)

--My favorites: holding onto my thumbs when she's drinking her bottle, grabbing my nose and mouth when she's falling asleep, shoving her hand in her mouth when she's so excited she can't contain herself, giving anyone an immediate smile when they smile at her, smiling thru her paci

--Her favorites: graham crackers, chunky, flavored baby cereal, any food with texture (not purees), her bottle, watching her sisters run around like madwomen, people's pets, standing/jumping, napping during the day and going to bed at 7 p.m. (2 2-hr naps and one shorter one.  It's glorious.)

And now, 6 months of smiles.  I tried to pick ones you may have not seen before.

Six months also means I'm hanging up my horns.  I actually haven't pumped in 4 days and am feeling great!  I have not bit the bullet and given her any formula yet, but I need to do it and make sure she adjusts well.  I'm thankful for everyone who listened to me gripe and complain these last 6 months and for Joel and our kids for making the sacrifices necessary to allow me to spend at least 2 hours a day hooked up.  I don't think I'll ever fully know the benefits, but I'm glad I reached my goal and feel at peace stopping at this point in time.  Looking forward to many more squeezable moments with this little Presh!

It started in college.

I'm starting to love the fall season.  I used to be a solely-summer-loving gal, but in recent years, I have really enjoyed bonfire season and watching the leaves turn and gather on the ground.  

This affinity for fall is somewhat new-found, and dare I say, since I embraced the world of antidepressants.  

It started in college, and in all actuality, probably started in high school.  I remember feeling really moody as a 14-yr-old, and progressively so as a 16-yr-old.  Hormones?  Probably.  But I remember sitting in a doctor's office and just crying for no reason during a check up.  I really wanted birth control pills because I heard those "leveled you out."  Of course, that's usually a bad thing to tell your parents - it's only normal of them to assume the "other" reason you want to be on birth control...

During my sophomore year of college, the crying spells started again. And stomach problems.  My hair started falling out.  I went to bed super early.  I stayed in my room.  I avoided social gatherings. My adviser pulled me into her office and asked if I was ok because my classmates were starting to wonder.  I reached an all-time low weight of 108 pounds.  I took 5-6 pills a day to control what was diagnosed as IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome).  I became "super spiritual" during this time to try and make it through.  After all, isn't that what you're supposed to do?  Pray more.  Trust more.  There's a reason for everything.  Push through.  

I saw the light as my senior year rolled around and luckily, I had a few years of pretty constant happiness.  

Then I got married.  (Sorry, Joel). 

Lots of transitions in a short amount of time, and lo and behold, fall was upon us with winter coming quickly.  I spiraled quickly and found myself unable to sleep or eat or pray.  That's right - I couldn't pray.  With seemingly nowhere else to turn, I got some drugs.  And holy cow, a few weeks later, I "woke up."  My sleeping pills were glorious and I felt lighter and more with it.  I started praying again.  

I have SAD - Seasonal Affective Disorder.  And starting a few years ago, I take a round of Prozac starting in September-October and wean in April-May.  My doctor described it best: depression is real.  It can hit all of a sudden and it can be too late to work your way out of it before it gets better.  If your brain uses all its serotonin fighting stress, there's a depletion that cannot be replenished without changing the chemistry in the brain.  Antidepressants can help with that.  

Yes, there are people who abuse antidepressants.  And yes, there are people who can fight these blue feelings and pray more and probably trust God more.  But I stopped envying those people and beating myself up for not be as spiritual, and pop a pill to get me through.  It's worth it.  To me and to my family, my coworkers, and my friends.  

I don't like being a druggie, so I'm not one.  But I'm thankful for those who are skilled in this area and have created a "help" for people like me.  

I was unable to do my yearly fall and winter round when I was pregnant with Emma, and I was pleased when I thought I'd escape the post-partum blues as well. Then, when she was 7 weeks old, I woke up one morning and decided I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't want to do anything, including take care of my kids.  That's when I emailed my doctor and said, "It's time."  

If you're struggling with feeling like you're swimming under water and not going anywhere, or with serious sleep deprivation from racing thoughts, or not wanting to engage with friends and family, or even worse - not eating or wanting to get out of bed, GET HELP.  It's the brave thing to do.  It may not be the most supported thing to do (especially by loved ones) or even the "right" thing or the most spiritual thing.  But if it's right for you, then it's right for you.  And that's what matters.  

It is true.  Jesus loves you.  He is ultimately all we need.  A little blue pill is not the cure-all.  It does not save us nor warrant our full trust.  Jesus does.  And with that perspective, we can lean on earthly measures with hope that this world and its troubles will fade away and one day there will be no more sickness or sadness.  

Until then, keep praying.  Keep trusting.  And take the little blue pill if you need to. 

Here's a great sermon if you want to hear more.  

http://thecrossingchurch.com/media-feeds/darkness-after-the-dawn/  

 

The 7-year itch.

Celebrating seven years of wedded bliss, er, uh, marriage today.  Cause really, what is wedded bliss?  I mean, by day 3 of our honeymoon, Joel and I woke up next to each other, wondered what the heck we had done and were ready to come home.  He made this even clearer on day 7 when he went through the fast food line and ordered and paid for his own food, leaving me in the dust.  And who can forget this? 

I was so excited to get this done!  Little did I know, Joel let me do it so he could make fun of me later

I used to be terrified of year 7, aka The Seven Year Itch.  Now it's here, and the only thing that's itchy is Ali's skin.  Joel and I attended a Mark Driscoll conference a few years ago, and he said most divorces happen before year 9; the main reason being two selfish people refuse to quit being selfish by then, and selfishness ultimately wins. Well, I can't say Joel or I are finished being selfish, and we will never be, but there is no denying we have worked our butts off learning how to be just a little more selfLESS, better communicators, better forgivers, better friends, better partners, and better parents.  We've spent a lot of money enlisting the help of others, and while outsiders have often disagreed with our "methods," there's no shame in that.

Here's a short picture timeline of memories. 

Joel pulled off an epic engagement at Niagara Falls during my grandma's 80th birthday party/family reunion

It took a few times for this guy to give this other guy the "go ahead"

Classic engagement picture ;) We look so young!  (And fit!)

No caption needed

One of my favorite wedding pictures

One of my favorite honeymoon pictures...before day 3 ;) 

Our "before kids" days

I think this picture captures us "settling in" to our life together

Kid 1

Kid 2

Kid 3.  Do we look more progressively more tired?  I think so. 

Every year on our anniversary, we make a list of Top 10 Things to Remember and Top 10 Things to Forget from that previous year.  I am happy to say, the list of things to forget gets shorter and shorter each year.  And although that may be a sad thought to many of you, it's reality, and 2 sinners joining their lives together in a fallen world is reality.  Some things are just best forgotten. Those things make the worth-remembering-memories so much sweeter and more cherished, and for that, I am grateful. 

We read a ton of dating, engagement and marriage books (to a fault), most of which I can't recommend, but there is one I can and will wholeheartedly recommend: The Meaning of Marriage by Tim Keller. 

I love this book because it removes the focus off your spouse and even your marriage and places it on the Gospel, the Good News that Jesus Christ saves us from our unworthiness and wipes our slate clean.  There is no way to get through life, married or not, apart from living in this truth.  And it's an alive and active truth that will not end, which is more good news, because I need to be reminded of it every day.  

So, J, happy anniversary!  Here's to getting through year 7 with flying colors and starting year 8 with only hope and joy in my heart.  Thanks for being faithful to me in the best and worst times and for truly being an amazing father to our girls.  

Love,

-L