How being sick has helped me feel more "at home"

Before JP and I moved to Charlotte, a friend from home gave me a stained-glass hanging that says "The Lord is with you wherever you go.  Joshua 1:9".  It hangs in our kitchen as a constant reminder that even though we're in a new place, God is as much here as He was back home.

It's no big secret that this move hasn't been an easy one for us.  JP and I loved Charlottesville.  We loved the area - the beauty of the mountains, the culture of the town, and familiarity of our surroundings.  Even more though, we loved the people - family and college friends, co-workers and our close community at Charlottesville Community Church.  It was scary to think of starting over.  Five months later, I still don't quite think of this as "home" - but we're getting closer.  And after this weekend, I KNOW that God truly is with us wherever we go.  He has shown us His presence through some amazing people, who truly were His hands and feet for us this weekend.

This weekend is perhaps the absolute worst I can remember.  JP and I both got sick - sicker than either of us has been in the entirety of our marriage (6 years this June) - at the exact. same. time.  We're not talking a debilitating cold, or a bit of an upset stomach.  We are talking all out, full blown, crazy serious sickness.  I'll spare you the grimy details, but know NOTHING stayed in my system for over 48 hrs.  Know that I was on the bathroom floor by the space heater asleep because I had a terrible case of the chills, only to wake up with a vicious case of the sweats.  Know that I yelled for water, but my husband couldn't make it to the bathroom to bring me anything because standing up made him get sick.  Know that bowls were toted around because making it to the bathroom often didn't happen.  Know that eventually, we did end up in the hospital because I was dehydrated (and that I looked in the mirror at the hospital, for the first time in hours, and asked JP "You let me come out of the house looking like that??")  Yep, it was that kind of a weekend.

Had I been at home, the solution would have been simple.  One phone call and a 35 minute drive, and my momma would have been at my house with everything I needed.  She would have taken care of us, and Eli, and my apartment wouldn't be the train wreck it is right now because she'd have kept things in tip-top shape.  And, to be fair, had it not been snowing when she found out about things Saturday, she would have been in the car and on her way (though the time would have been 4 hrs, instead of 35 min).  Without family here, and in complete desperation (read, bathroom floor), I did the only thing I could think - I posted on Facebook a plea for Gatorade.

And it was answered.  An amazing woman from my MOPS group responded, left her home and family, went to the store and bought us Gatorade and brought it to our place.  At 11pm at night.  In the snow.  I consumed 32oz like it was my job, and my husband did likewise.  We caught a bit of relief and went to sleep before waking up with more sickness.

The next morning, another lovely MOPS lady brought Tylenol, soup, crackers, and more Gatorade.  She had texted an offer the night before, and though I only asked for Tylenol, she made sure we were set on all sorts of sickness staples.

Then, I received yet ANOTHER text from a 3rd sweet friend, offering to bring anything we needed, or to watch Eli for the afternoon.  This friend has not one, or two, but THREE children of her own, and she was watching two MORE for another friend who was in the hospital having a baby.  Yet she was willing to take on another (ie. #6) in order to serve my family.  (Thankfully, by Sunday afternoon JP was better and could tend to taking care of me).

Still, I was really sick, and by the evening, the hospital trip was a necessity.  However, someone needed to stay with Eli.  We called our dear friends, and immediately, they agreed to come stay with Eli, so JP could be with me at the hospital.

Other friends messaged me, letting me know their willingness to bring things, watch Eli, or help in any way needed.  Some of these offers came from people I've had the chance to get together with a few times, people that I'm growing friendships with.  Other offers came from people that, quite honestly, I barely know - from people at my MOPS group that I may have had a conversation or two with.  But they are drawn to show compassion and love to me, not because of our close relationship, but because they have a relationship with the One who is the source of all love and compassion.  Despite feeling so terrible, it has been a long, long time since my heart has been so full.  I was so deeply touched and moved by these gestures of kindness toward my family, that it has changed my outlook on being in this new place.

We may not feel completely settled and relationships might not be as deep as we'd like, but we do have community here.  We may not be around family and old friends, or have a church home, but we are surrounded by the body of Christ.

We're going to be just fine here in Charlotte.  "The Lord is with you (and us) wherever you (we) go".  Joshua 1:9.

Our no budget Valentines Day...

I have a secret:  I love Valentines Day.  I have for the last 11 years.   The reason I love Valentines day is mostly that I love Love LOVE my Valentine!

I remember being in middle school and the beginning of high school and feeling SO sad when the girls with "boyfriends" got flowers, candy and stuffed animals and I didn't.  One year, a guy who was a friend of mine brought in Oreos and we celebrated by attempting to eat the whole pack (um, gross).  I was never a very big fan of the "Hallmark holiday" until I was a 15 year old junior in high school and I had a boyfriend of my own.  Finally, I got to celebrate too.  And we've celebrated together every single year since.  He's my forever Valentines.

I'll stop with the mushy, lest you get sick and not make it to the end of the post.  Each year on this day, people feel the need to express their opinions about Valentine's Day.  Facebook is full of pictures of flowers, candy and cards, along with gripes and complaints about this "fake" holiday.  One of the things I've read a lot, from both singles and people in relationships, is the complaint that this is just a stupid, made up, Hallmark holiday that is all about consumerism and materialism.  My friends, it DOESN'T have to be.

My day has been amazing.  It started with a scrumptious breakfast in bed.  The hubs whipped up some delicious scrambled eggs, complete with cheese and yummy veggies.  He also toasted a whole grain english muffin, and made scrumptious cinnamon apples.  I enjoyed breakfast, we spent a bit of time together, and then we were off - me to a playdate, and him to class.

However, it appears as though, in between classes, he decided to do a little cleaning in the apartment.  We didn't quite get all the toys picked up in Eli's room yesterday (or the books he'd pulled down for the 15068th time), but when I came home, the room was spotless, a Valentines Day board book (that Eli had been given last year) sitting in the rocking chair.  All the breakfast mess was cleaned up (we had both left it because we had places to be this morning), and the apartment looked great.  Yesterday, when talking about what I'd done in the house he asked "so what chores do you have left for the week?" - vacuuming and moping the kitchen were the only two left - and he did both!!  So, instead of coming home to a chore list, I fed Eli lunch, had a meal of my own, put him down for a nap, and have been able to relax ever since, enjoying neat and tidy surroundings.

The rest of our day will most likely be pretty casual.  We'll enjoy a yummy meal at home (he's making steaks on the grill and I'll bake potatoes and make a salad).  We won't get each other cards, but will write in our "letter notebooks" (We made notebooks and we write notes to each other in them for holidays, anniversaries, just because - that way we have all the sweet notes in one place, instead of in a million cards.  The messages come 100% from the other person, not Hallmark, and we don't have cost of cards.  A good idea, if I do say so myself).  We won't give gifts (other than the small thing of chocolate I did buy him), but will enjoy time spent together.  It's already been, and I'm sure it will continue to be a great day.

I love Valentines Day because of who I spend it with, and because we go out of our way to make each other feel loved.  But not just one day a year.  He makes "Saturday breakfast" almost every week with Eli in the carrier or on the floor so that I can have a relaxed morning.  I go through the Chic Fil A drive through sometimes and get him a chocolate chip cookie because they are his favorite.  He surprises me now and then by doing one of the "chores" that I'm typically responsible for.  I pack his lunch daily and sometimes put in a sweet note.  We might do a little more on February 14th, but it's not Tiffany's jewelry and an expensive meal.  We tend to have low (or no) budget Valentine's Days, and I love them, so much, because of who I get to spend them with.

Not a house, but a home

When JP and I first started thinking about living somewhere other than Charlottesville, I was scared.  We had prayed that God would provide for me to be able to stay at home with Eli, but my *real* prayer was "let me stay home, here, in Charlottesville, around my friends and family, in our townhouse".  God was faithful - he provided JP with paid tuition and a small stipend, the house sold in 17 days, and the money that we had saved thinking we'd have to pay for school was available for living expenses.  God, had answered our prayer - but not in the way I had secretly hoped.  I was going to get to stay home, but not in the home we had come to know and love.  We would have to move.

Once we found out we were moving to Charlotte, we began looking for housing options in the area around JP's school.  Initially, we had hoped to be able to rent a house.  We knew it'd have to be a smallish one, but hoped for detached walls and a place that could be "our own".  However, we soon realized that we wouldn't have that option.  On our graduate student/stay-at-home mom budget, a small apartment was all we could afford.  So we signed a lease.

Up until we moved, and for a short time after, I was really grouchy about it.  I didn't say much to JP, or to anyone else, but inside I was down.  It seemed like while everyone else was making the transition from apartment, to starter home, to dream house, we were going in the opposite direction.  We had owned our own place, a townhouse that we loved, and now we were renting an apartment - that we didn't love - in a place we didn't even *really* want to be.

We settled in quickly with the help of family and friends, and my husband, in his usual fashion, had every picture hung on the day after he moved in.  Though the walls couldn't be painted, they were adorned with the same pictures, canvases and shelves that had graced our place at 1948 Tudor Ct.  When I did our first grocery run in the new place, my dad bought me fresh flowers, which I put in a vase on our dining room table.  We worked hard at making the little apartment a home.

And now, five months later, it truly HAS become a home.  In fact, I sometimes feel like this is more of a home than any place we have ever lived in.  It is as spacious and well decorated as our townhouse?  No.  Is it in a place we love as much as the one we moved from?  Certainly not.

But, in this home, my son and I spend most of our days.  In this place, I am less tired and weary from putting 100% of my time and energy into my job and coming home barely running on empty.  In this apartment, I am much more focused on my husband and my son, giving them as much of myself as I can give.  I am able to spend the time and effort on them that I simply wasn't able to do before, and I love it.  Even though in many ways it has been hard, I know that I wouldn't go back if I could.  Not for a second.

There are still days I get on Pinterest and see pins under "our home" where people have selected colors of flooring, paint for the walls and furniture for rooms.  Sometimes, I am tempted to become jealous and long for those things myself.  I do hope, one day, for a little house of our own where we can (hopefully) put down some roots.  However, for now, I will enjoy this little apartment, and the time I spend with my family inside it's walls.  It may not be a house, but it is our home.  And I am grateful for it.

"Stop the glorification of busy"

My husband sometimes (very kindly) remarks that I am “wasting time” on Pinterest.  It’s true, the website can sometimes be like Facebook – a black hole that sucks you into nothingness.  However, it can also prove quite useful.  I haven’t been on Pinterest that long, and already is has resulted in the (successful) making of homemade yogurt, bread, cute handprint paintings and several new scrumptious meals.  This doesn’t include the many other ideas that are waiting for me…

But, perhaps the best thing I’ve seen on Pinterest is the words quoted in this post’s title:  “Stop the glorification of busy”.  I admit, I find it a bit ironic that the words have been pinned several times – on a website that makes you feel a bit guilty if you aren’t making everything that goes on your table homemade and from scratch, your house isn’t full of DIY perfection, amazing décor, and practical storage solutions and your kids days aren’t perfectly scheduled with developmentally appropriate activities and craft time.  Pinterest, it could be argued, it a site that inspires busyness.  But, ironic or not, it is where I stumbled upon these few words that have settled deep into my heart.

I glorify business.  I absolutely do.  I think it’s a product of the culture we’re living in.  I remember being in college and “competing” about who was more exhausted, who had the most work to do, and whose extracurricular activity list was that longest.  Of course, it wasn’t an actual competition, but the conversation went something like this:

Me:  “I’m so tired.  I didn’t get to bed until after 2am last night.”

Friend: “I was up until 4.”

Me:  “It’s a really rough week, I have two papers due and an exam.”

Friend:  “I have two papers and two exams.”

Me:  “Well, I also have small group I’m leading this week, and a meeting to go to, plus volunteering…”

You get the point.  These conversations happened all. the. time.  And, guilty as anyone, I participated. 

Even still, it continues.  People seem to feel more important and significant when they have full planners and rattle of countless activities.   I’ve had people share that they are stressed from the things on their plate but they liked being able to say “I do this and this and this.”  Please don’t think I am speaking condemningly, as if I am Miss High and Mighty Above this Issue.  I’m not.  Though, currently, I have the opposite problem.

I have jokingly told many people I was born in the wrong time period.  I love staying home with my son, focusing on our family and home.  I love that, at one point in history, that was the expectation for women and totally accepted (and the economy didn’t dictate the need/push for the two-income home).  I would have done well in that time.

Now, I struggle with “is what I’m doing enough?”.  I CONSTANTLY look at moms who are, in addition to staying home all day with their children, running successful businesses from their homes, writing books, coaching, mentoring, etc.  I’m content not having those things on my plate, but often feel like my life and role isn’t valuable because I’m not “doing enough”.

It’s largely the result of believing the lie – buying into the glorification of busy.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy having things to do – but I want them to be things like spontaneously taking Eli to the park because it’s a beautiful day, reading for a little longer than normal, having a home that runs smoothly because I have the time to tend to it.   I guess I just want to be busy about the RIGHT things (for me) and not be busy for busys sake (or because I feel like I need to be). 

Being busier doesn’t make us more significant, better or glamorous.  For me, when I get too busy, I tend to become a stressed out mess of a human being (it’s true, ask my husband).  So, I am going to try to be careful about the things I do – choosing wisely where to devote my time.  I will stop the glorification on busy in my life.

So now, instead of getting back on Pinterest and figure out what else I need to do to be more awesome - I think I’ll just go to sleep.

This kid is obsessed with books (Eli update)

"This tiny hippopotamus has something small to say, and if we're very quiet now he'll say it right away.  Listen.  'Be Bo'.  You might not know what 'BeBo means, or maybe you've forgotten, it's just the tiny hippo way of saying belly button."

Ok, I'll stop there.  I can quote for you the entirety of Sandra Boynton's "Belly Button Book", along with numerous other books, but I'll spare you all.

I thought I'd do a little update on Eli overall.  I've posted about his food fights and such, but thought I'd do a more general "here's what he's up to post".  And that, my friends, begins with books.  The kid is OBSESSED.  "Book" was one of Eli's first words (I think it came right after mama and dada).  Anyhow, I spent the morning him reading no less (and likely a few more) than 25 books.  He finds them, brings them to me and says "book" over and over until I read it.  Then, often, as soon as the book is closed, he grabs it, thrusts it at me again, and insists that once just isn't enough.  We have several books that were read multiple (up to five) times this morning.  I hid Hippos Go Berserk (um, mommy was the one going berserk).

Despite the fact that it is sometimes annoying, I love that he's a little reader :).  He is his parent's child in that area, for sure.  He will often sit with books along and turn their pages.  Still, being read to is his all time favorite activity.  I have, on occasion tried to see how long he would sit on my lap and allow me to read, just to check his attention span.  I broke before he did (at like 12 books - craziness!)

In other news, Eli:
- is an extremely verbal child.  He knows/says close approximately 30 words.  Not all of them are crystal clear, but he has that many words that JP and I KNOW what he is talking about.  The list includes:  mama, dada, book, duck, cat (pronouced gat), hat (at), yogurt (gurt), bottle (aka sippy cup, pronounced bah), button (buh), dog, Nana (for my mom, and banana), Lala (for his Auntie Allison), snow (no), star (dar), light (another obsession), nose (no - will point to it!), mouth (mou - points), ear (points), bye bye, night night (ny ny), baby (sometimes pronounced correctly, sometimes says "be" - this is what he calls himself when he sees himself in the mirror), mum mums (the snack), puffs (says buh).  Anyhow, that's a pretty full, but not necessarily exhaustive list.  It is SO much fun that we're able to communicate, even if just a little :)

- eats well on the whole.  I know the last post was doom and gloom about his eating, but overall, he does well.  I hope it continues!

- has never been a fantastic sleeper.  He goes through phases where he does SO well, but then seems to regress.

- is not at mobile as he is verbal.  He's got a push toy that he likes, and will walk with that, but doesn't seem to have too much interest in trying to walk on his own.  He has JUST started to walk holding our hands (he used to let his legs give out), so that's some progress I guess.  JP is sometimes afraid Eli won't ever walk.  I am enjoying him not being AS mobile as I know he soon will be (the fast crawling is good enough).  Plus it makes him feel more like my little baby.

- is doing cute new things all the time.  He LOVES to play peekaboo, and will initiate this game often.  He has also (sometimes) started laying down and saying "ny ny" when he's tired.  LOVE it when he does this.  He LOVES playing with Ollie, though he has gotten confused and started calling him a cat (he used to call him a dog, at my parents, when we was outside.  And he learned cat at my in-laws, who have inside cats.  I think Eli must reason that since Ollie is inside, he's now a cat.  We're trying to convince him Ollie is, in fact, a dog, but he's not buying it).

- often asks for either JP or I.  SOOOO cute.  Sometimes JP will go get him from a nap and he will say "mama" over and over (um, he also did this during the prayer when we visited a new church on Saturday night - oops).  At any rate, it melts. my. heart.

- now has 6 teeth, 2 more are in the process of coming in

- doesn't particularly like many other toys (besides books).  He's enjoying a stacking toy he got for Christmas, and likes pulling the pieces out of his puzzle.  That's about it.  He is interested in the shape sorter, but seems to get frustrated when the pieces don't fit (same when he tries to stack blocks but doesn't have the coordination to make them sit on one another).

Even on mornings when I have to read books over and over, after having not gotten the best night's sleep, and then I have to fight him about a nap, I love that child enough that I often feel I'll burst.  He is such a sweet sweet little joy.  We are so blessed with him and enjoy seeing him grow and develop every day!

The time Eli and I had a fight about yogurt...

Yesterday I posted on Facebook about the adorableness of my sweet son.  I thought it was so cute that he's developed a favorite food - yogurt (or "gurt" as he likes to call it).  Every time we put him in his high chair his request is the same "gurt, gurt, gurt" (he usually says it multiple times, I guess he thinks his parents are slow).  Yogurt is a pretty standard food for him at breakfast time, but that's usually it.  He has always been fine with that (and readily ate whatever he was given), until recently.  In the past week, he's become a bit more finicky (refusing broccoli, zucchini and butternut squash, all of which he LOVED before) and has also started to ask for yogurt.  It was kind of cute when we was asking.  Tonight he was demanding.  And it was NOT cute.

It was dinner time, and I thought we'd start with some chicken, applesauce, whole grain bread and peas - all foods he likes (well, he'll only eat the chicken IN the applesauce, but at any rate).  As soon as he got into his chair, the pleas for "gurt" began.  I explained to him (for all it's worth explaining anything to a 13 month old) what he was having, and that he could have yogurt if he ate everything else.  We proceeded to try a bite of chicken and applesauce.  After turning his head, batting the spoon, and squirming like crazy, I finally got a bite in - for all of 2 seconds, before it came right back out.  Eli 1, Mom 0.  Ok, I thought, maybe he wants to feed himself.  I put some bread and zucchini on the tray - and before I knew it, both were on the floor (Ollie appreciate this, I did not - Eli 2, Mom 0).  I tried a spoonful of the peas, which had the same fate - out of his mouth and THEN thrown on the floor.  Eli 3, Mom 0.  Throughout the process I spoke sternly with countless corrections: "No Eli, No" and "We don't spit out/throw our food".  I smacked his little hand a few times, HARD, but it didn't phase him.  He cried, screamed, spit and threw.  It was a disaster.

As I walked to the kitchen to get yogurt (hangs head in shame of defeat), I prayed for patience.  I have NEVER been so frustrated with Eli.  I was even angry.  Didn't he know that I had worked hard to make his dinner?  Wasn't he appreciative of the fact that I go to the trouble to see that he has homemade, nutritious food?  Didn't he know this was good for him?  (The answer to those questions, by the way, is no).  Why did this have to be so difficult??

I told my husband today that I miss teaching.  I've said this before and it's true (though I don't doubt that the place I'm supposed to be is at home).  He asked me why, and I had several answers.
1.  I am/was good at teaching
2.  There was at least SOME sense of instant gratification.  When kids "got it" or their parents sent appreciative emails, I knew I was doing a good job.
3.  At least more than being at home, I was in control.

I think God has used Eli to teach me that I am not in control (um, hello surprise pregnancy) and that I need to depend on Him.  I can make healthy, nutritious food, but I can't force my son to eat it.  I can do my best to set up a good sleep schedule, and be home for his naps, but I can't make him sleep.  I can discipline him, train him, and teach him about the Lord - but I can't make him behave and I certainly can't make him believe.  It's humbling, for sure.  Sometimes I think about how well Eli's doing - that he is was? a good eater, that he's SO vocal, that he sleeps well (most of the time), and I think I'm doing a good job.  Other times, like tonight, I feel like a colossal failure.  I realize how very little I know about being a mom, and how much I have to learn.

But, honestly, I think that's a good place to be.  So, as I fed Eli his dinner (which, he ate all of - a spoon full of yogurt, applesauce/chicken, peas, and piece of bread - rinse and repeat), I thought about my great need for God's help with all of this.  It's a good thing He's faithful :).

Here's hoping (and praying!) that Eli goes back to being my fabulous eater.  In the meantime, maybe the "one bite of everything" trick will work.  Also, I tried making homemade yogurt today.  Let's hope it works and turns out well.  If my son is going to have to eat it at EVERY meal, I'm sure going to need it :)

No need for condolences.

Last night I was up long after the lights were turned out and my (still tired) husband had fallen asleep.  I was thinking about a conversation I'd had earlier in the evening.  I thought about the way I was caught off guard, and about the reply I wish I'd given.  I was thinking about this blog post.

Yesterday I was on the phone someone from church - someone I don't know at all (I was speaking with him about serving on his ministry team).  Over the course of our conversation, I shared some basic life information with him - "Back in Charlottesville, I was a teacher for four years, but now I stay at home with our one year old son."  His response was immediate "My condolences".

I'm sure it was a joke, or at least an attempt at one.  Perhaps I should even be pleased that his statement means he recognizes what I do isn't always easy - that I don't sit around eating bonbons and reading magazines all day.  But, his response didn't have that affect.  It saddened my mama heart.

Condolences are what you give when a loved one passes away, or when a friend is experiencing great loss.  They are an expression of sympathy when someone is experiencing pain.  None of these things are relevant to me as a stay at home mom.

Some might say I took his comment too seriously, or that it wasn't a big deal.  But I think it IS a VERY big deal.  It seems as if this man's attitude is far too common in society - this idea that being around children so much is burdensome, that someone in this role is to be pitied.  I've gotten this outright from people: "I could never stay home", and in subtle messages in our culture.  Most recently, I noticed the words in the Christmas carol - "and moms and dads can hardly wait for school to start again."  Why?  To have the children out of their hair?

I'm not trying to pretend that it's puppies and roses for me all the time as I'm at home with Eli.  I also don't want to act as though I know it all when I only have one child, who has just passed the one year mark.  Sure, there are days that I know that being in a job would be far easier (and I imagine those days will only increase as Eli enters toddlerhood and whenever the Mays family grows).

However, I am absolutely, 100% certain that children are a blessing.  I've experienced it first hand, and God's word says so:  "Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him." Psalm 127:3.  They bring smiles, laughter and immeasurable joy and they also bring opportunities to grow and be molded into the image of Christ.  Eli has humbled me (like this morning when he was crawling all over us in bed after he nursed, and he spit up ALLLLL over my face and in my hair).  He has taught me to be more patient and more selfless.  He has given me a whole new understanding and appreciation for unconditional love.

So, I don't need condolences.  Not at all.  Call me crazy, but this mama wants a house full of children and is seriously contemplating homeschooling.  I thank God all the time for the amazing gift and blessing that He has given me in my son, and for the opportunity to be at home with him each day.  Life is good.  Messy, exhausting, and trying at times.  But so good.