Behind the Scenes: Second Child Sticker Shock

Hey y'all! I'm joining the beautiful Crystal Stine for her "Behind the Scenes" link-up today! Come join in the fun - pick one of your most instagram-worthy photos, but give us the real story. The sneak peek behind the scenes, a look past the edges of the photo to the real life behind it. 

The Photo

This boy. 

My baby. 

My mess-maker. 

My heart beat. 

He makes me laugh every day. It's hard to believe that just a few short months ago I was crying in frustration over this child. A newborn who wouldn't sleep anywhere other than his swing. A babe who wouldn't be soothed by anyone other than his Momma. A little guy who, it seemed at the time, loved crying more than anything else in the world. In those fleeting moments, I thought for sure that this is how it was going to be for the rest of my life. I shuddered to think of a five-year-old sleeping in a baby swing. I cried out to God, evening after evening. Bone-tired from the endless walking in circles around my living room trying desperately to comfort this wailing thing in my arms. I questioned God's reasoning for giving me a child like this. I questioned my sanity in praying for a second child. My husband nodded his head as if to say, "Don't blame me!" My three-year-old cried because the baby was crying. 

And I cried, too.    Again. 

How easy it is to lose sight of the big picture when in the throes of child-raising. Down in the gritty, gut-wrenching depths of sleeplessness and never-ending tears. Knee-deep in diapers and a baby who is still trying to learn how to nurse.  

Now I've blinked and the tiny baby is gone. The crying has passed (for the most part). Smiling has taken up residence on his round little face. He's perfectly content to play with big sister or Daddy (though Mommy still has the magic touch). He sleeps for 12 hour stretches in his crib without so much as a peep. 

As we near the one-year celebration of this bouncy blessing, it's easy to forget where we started. The sticker shock of a second child will fade away. I already have trouble remembering what life was like with just one. An easy one at that. I'm thankful for God's goodness in giving me two children. He knew what He was doing even if I didn't. 

Time Flies When You're...Outnumbered

Sigh.

My life is a blur these days.

Granted, a mostly joyous blur filled with giggles and slobbery kisses and tiny baby socks. But a blur nonetheless.

I SO want to get back into writing regularly. My mind yearns for a creative outlet. I miss sharing my thoughts on parenting. My failures. My triumphs. I long to come to this space and be honest about life as a mother. But most days after feeding, wiping, running, tickling, feeding, dancing, laughing, feeding, rocking, story-telling, and more feeding, I barely have enough energy to hold a conversation with my sweet, patient husband let alone sit down at my computer and "let the creative juices flow".

Today I decided to steal a few minutes for myself while my 3 year old naps and my 6 month old grows impatient on the floor for some attention.

And yes, I said 6 month old.

One might ask, What has having two kids taught you? My short answer: Having a second child has taught me that I know NOTHING about parenting. I'm just as clueless as I was the first time around.

I've been told that all children are different, but I didn't understand the depth of that statement until I had two to compare. Night and day, these two. Cut from the same genetic mold, yet not one similarity aside from physical appearances.

So I am learning. Every day. Learning what makes this little man tick. What he loves: cuddles, rocking, sleeping on his tummy. What he hates: bottles, being alone, Mommy eating chocolate.

It certainly is an adventure, this having-two-kids thing. It's not for the faint of heart {though sometimes I am} but I wouldn't trade my life for anything. No, this is where I'm supposed to be. In this very moment of life. In this mess. In this joy. Some days I might find time (and energy) to write. Some days I might not.

I'll leave you today with a quote about blogging that caught my attention. It's a quote from Annie Downs who also writes for (in)courage. She says, "The thing about blogging is that it is our real lives, it's just not the FULLNESS of real life."

Words of truth spoken to me today. I hope that you were blessed with some truth today, too.

A Good Excuse

Just incase any of my tens of readers are wondering where I've been for the past two months, here is my excuse:

God has decided to trust me (ME!) with this tiny gift wrapped up as a perfect little boy. Parker James made his arrival on Friday, July 27 at 8:26 am. My post about his birth story to come later!

Now to the brutally honest part: this baby is kicking my butt! It took me two days to realize that my second child was nothing like my first. Nope. That would have been too easy (and I'm not that lucky). The good Lord chose to give me a challenge this time around. A crier. A constant eater. Nothing soothes but his Momma. And people, I. am. tired.

Thankfully, at 6 weeks he is growing out of the fussiness (thanks, in part, to figuring out that I can't eat chocolate while nursing - yes, you read that right - no chocolate.) And he is starting to show his sweet side. The smiling. The cooing. The cuteness. Sometimes I just melt!

 These past 6 (almost 7) weeks have been an adjustment period. For all four of us. Figuring out how to mother two children, how to show my love to both at the same time without making one feel neglected. It's a whole new world. So I ask that you please bear with me as I continue trying to live my new life (and take care of a new life!) all while still cooking, cleaning, playing, cuddling, sometimes yelling, and generally running this ship called a family. I WILL get back to blogging. That is a threat, not a promise :)

In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed the photos of my little guy. God is good. Amen?

The Little Mermaid

So something big happened on our Fourth of July this year. {Aside from the fireworks.}


No, I didn't go into labor. {Was wishin' and hopin' though!}


But it was (almost) as equally exciting:

Swimming on her own for the first time! 

Yes, my baby girl decided she didn't need Mommy or Daddy to hold on to her in the pool! Granted, she's not reached Olympic levels yet, but I was so impressed and overjoyed for her. If you know my daughter, you know that one of the words that best describes her is "cautious".  This is the child that didn't walk until she was 16 months old. The child who cried when we went on the Hershey's Chocolate World tour ride.

So I was indeed cheering in my proud Momma moment.

Thankfully Daddy is an avid swimmer who has both life-guard and swim team captain titles under his belt. {Um, not to mention CPR and First Aid certification!} I am able to relax when he's in the water with her. I have no doubt that with a little more pool time and training, this little mermaid will be high-diving and butterflying in no time!

Making Room In Your Home {and Heart}

He's got me wrapped around his finger. A tiny curled-up finger that I have yet to see and touch. I'm spending more and more of my time thinking about the little boy that will soon make his appearance. And along with those thoughts come feelings of tentativeness, inadequacy, and unpreparedness.

You see, I've never done this before.

Oh I'm a parent alright. A Mommy. A weary baby whisperer. A boo-boo fixer. A tissue-wielding nose wiper. But I've never been a Momma of two. And that scares me. I take little comfort in knowing what to expect from a newborn - crying, diaper changes, moodiness (talking about myself on that last one). Granted, I've learned a lot in my two and a half years (parenting is more of an accelerated course). But looking forward as a Mother of two, I'm sailing into uncharted territory. I only know how to give attention and affection to one -- and she only knows what it's like to have Momma all. to. herself. I have settled in to life as a Mommy of one and I love it. I love her. She is so endearing, so well-mannered, so perfect {most days} that it scares me to think that I could mess everything up by bringing another baby home. Maybe that's why some parents only ever have one child. But when I look deep down inside myself, I know that I am not meant to be a Momma of one. I know that God wants more for me, more for our family. Aubrey deserves someone to share life with; to play with, to scheme with, and yes -- to fight with. It would be completely selfish of me to say I only want one child. I can't box God in like that and I can't deprive my daughter of the experience of being a big sister.

But how do you bring a helpless little human into your home who can do nothing for himself and not expect repercussions from the toddler who is still too young to understand that Mommy loves her just as much as she did two days before?  I'm aware of what I need to do. Those things that books and other moms recommend to maintain feelings of inclusion and belonging. Yet that guilt sits on my heart like an elephant. It's not budging.

    Mommas of two or more: Does the guilt ease over time? 

Then there is the other side of the coin - will this little boy receive as much time and care from his Momma that was given to his sister when she was born?  The honest answer is probably not. I see it frequently with second, third, fourth children - less pictures, more handmedowns, less parental "hovering", more freedom to eat dirt/bugs/etc... I am fearful that because I'll be incapable of showing him the same level of attention that I showed to the first that he won't turn out the same. That he won't have the care-free, laid-back attitude as that of his sister. In reality, that might all be true. But I try to reassure myself that it won't be because of me or my actions, but because he is his own person. He will undoubtedly have a very different personality, not to mention the natural distinctions between girls and boys. This is a whole new person that I've got to figure out and get to know. And I'm fully aware that what worked for the first might not work for the second. What the first liked, the second might cringe at.

So these are the thoughts that fill my mind these days {and increasing number of restless nights.} And here I am: a soon-to-be Momma of two who occasionally doubts herself and is afraid. It certainly isn't the first time and I know it won't be the last. Thankfully I can cling to the fact that it's not all resting on my shoulders. I'm far from alone. I have an amazing helpmate by my side - my hunky knight in shining armor who played a part in creating these beautiful little people. And we are blessed to live within 15 minutes of both sets of grandparents as well as our siblings and their spouses. (Who, incidentally, are all gifted in the spoiling department.) 

Then of course, there is Him. The One who created me. He knows my heart better than I know it myself. He created life within me and answered my inmost desires to be called Momma. It is only through Him that I know I can rest. I can breathe in the sweet fragrance of peace and reassurance that He is by my side continually. Eternally. Whispering encouragement. Propelling me onward with His strength when I can't muster enough of my own. And I can find solace in knowing that He will not fail. He will not falter -- even when I do. It is by His power and His annointing that I am the me I was meant to be. 

1 Corinthians 10:13 The Message  ¹³No test or temptation that comes your way is beyond the course of what others have had to face. All you need to remember is that God will never let you down; he'll never let you be pushed past your limit; he'll always be there to help you come through it.  

Let the Battles Begin

Wow.
That was hard.
Took the wind right out of my sails.    {Take deep breath here.}

What was supposed to be a fun-filled evening of fair food and fireworks with friends took an ugly turn when my dear sweet child refused to even taste a bite of hamburger. Luckily we had gotten the fair food to-go, so this unsightly train wreck took place in the comforts of our own home. But it didn't lessen the sting of standing my ground and backing my husband in this "Battle of the Burger".

In a showdown that lasted a good hour at least, we begged. we reasoned. we bargained. If we were birds, we would have chewed it up and forced it into her mouth.  But in the end, the choice was hers.

She would. not. budge.

So I had my first real taste of watching my daughter experience the emotional pain of tough love. Oh the hurt that it caused in my heart. I would have given anything to take that away from her. To bring back her smile and an evening full of giggles. A thousand times I would have caved and let her move on to eating something else, but this was my husband's turn. He doesn't get to do much of the disciplining with me being the one at home all day, so when the opportunity arises I need to step back and let him take the lead.  Our children need to grow up seeing Daddy and Mommy as a team. Not second guessing and undermining the other's decisions. So I had to let go of this one.

Despite our plans of watching some late-night fireworks (would have been Aubrey's first time) we had to rearrange the evening to accommodate an early bed time. She and I still got to read a few bed time stories, but I was reading through tears. Tears for my daughter who was hurting {through her own choices}, tears of questioning my parenting {was she old enough to understand?} and tears for knowing this is the first of many heartaches that will be cast on me as I finally understand what it means when a parent says, "This hurts me more than it hurts you."

Movin' On Up...

Well, we did it.

The big move.

It seemed like it would never get here. Months of work and preparation (mostly on my husband's part) finally paid off. We transitioned my daughter out of the nursery and into a big girl room -- and bed!

As excited as I was to create a new, super-fun place for a little girl to grow up in, I was equally anxious over how receptive she'd be of giving up the familiar comforts of the light green jungle-themed safe haven that she's known since being three weeks old.

Friends, let me tell you this: I worried for nothing. My child is so resilient, so carefree and flexible, saying she was overjoyed about moving into a new room is an understatement. This girl was downright over the MOON!

The only tears involved in this story are my own - those shed on her first night in the big girl bed. It was a shining "Mom Moment" as I like to call them. My tiny baby {who is no longer that tiny} had graduated from the crib and onto bigger and better things.    sniff sniff.

I love this girl's personality and I love her enthusiasm about life!  We are five days in and she is now telling ME when it's time for a nap and time for bed. While I know this will only be a {short} phase, I am savoring these moments!

Let's hear it for easily adaptable children!

The bed!

Chest of drawers and bathroom door

Entry door and custest monkey rug ever.

Bay window and beautiful bench seat (built by my husband and Father-in-law!) 

SO excited to sleep in her new room!

For those of you wondering, the adorable white bird decals on the walls came from the talented Amber Shaw at A Baby Wall on Etsy. She has a huge selection of high-quality products!

Giving Up On Healthy Eating

Today I'm linking up with Naptime Diaries and The Tiny Twig to write about Giving Up on Good. Giving up something "good" for something BETTER. Oh, and on being able to give up the guilt of it all in the process! 

Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. To a childless person these words probably have no adverse effect whatsoever. But for any parent whose child might be between the ages of 1 and 15, just the thought of those three words may cause the hairs on the back of the neck to stand up. For me, no other daily task has ever caused so much anxiety.

"Is the food healthy enough?"

"What can I make that she will eat?"

"Am I offering foods from all five food groups?" (As an aside, did you know that the food pyramid has now been changed to a plate? I learned something new today!)

"Chicken nuggets for the third day in a row - is that okay?"

"Why won't she eat this today? She liked it yesterday..."

"Can a cookie and bag of chips be classified as lunch?"

From the time she started eating milky rice cereal, I've worried. I have questioned my ability to nourish a growing child. But as the mother of a now two-and-a-half year old, I've learned that some things just aren't worth beating yourself up about. I've had to redefine my definition of "healthy eating". Where I was once concerned over her eating vegetables as part of every meal, I have surrendered to the fact that my daughter will. not. eat any vegetable other than potatoes. Which, let's be honest, is a starch. Not even a true veggie, people. 

And then there was the phase where she only wanted Pop-tarts for breakfast. Oh wait. We are still in that phase. 

Yes, I could become the mom who forces her kids to eat all their vegetables before leaving the table. I could only serve all-organic foods and never buy anything that is processed or contains corn syrup. But that's just not me right now. I'd rather spend my time playing with a care-free little girl (who is 100% healthy and growing just the way she should be) than fighting with a grumpy toddler at each and every meal. And here's a confession: Some days, we are lucky if we even sit at a table to eat. Breakfast while watching Dora. Lunch in the car. 

So for now, I've given up on healthy eating and all the stress that comes along with it. Peanut butter bread for dinner? Sure! It's full of protein. Juice boxes? Yes! I buy the ones that contain a full serving of fruit and vegetables. Pop-tarts for breakfast? Hey, if it's what she wants to eat, that is okay by me. I've got bigger battles to face in life than Pop-tarts.

Caution: Sleeping Dragon

Sometimes I have an ugly heart. It turns vicious and seething. I don't know what it is that makes me snap. My voice, cracking like a callous whip, lashing out toward my daughter. In these flashes of hot anger, I breathe fire upon this small, innocent girl - usually when she is merely playing and acting like a child should.     And I know it hurts. It hurts me, so I know it hurts her. Words can sting. Tone of voice can cut deep. And after the flames have rained down and I'm left holding the embers, I shudder to look back on the damage that I caused.

Within mere minutes, she is back to playing and chattering at me like a little bird. But I replay the scene... I look inward with such disgust, I can barely stand myself. I want to crawl out of my skin. In those moments of cooling, I am humbled. Embarrassed for the way that I've acted more like a child than she has. My eyes well up and tears drip down my face, acting like some sort of sprinkler system. I don't want her to see me like this. I don't want her to see the shame rolling down my cheeks.

I don't easily lose sight of how I treated her nor can I undo it. The only source of healing I can cling to is an apology. Even though she may have moved on {possibly even forgotten about it already} I kneel down in front of her soft face and gaze into sparkling eyes. And I say I'm sorry to my two year old. I look at her, into her soul, with all the warm affection that I have in me and I tell her I love her. THIS is what I want her to remember. THIS is the lasting impression I want to make.

God, teach me grace, that I may show it to my children. Make me slow to anger, that they might see Your righteousness in me.

^{James 1:19-20 NIV 19} My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,²⁰ for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.  

I Like a Challenge

Do you ever have those days when you are constantly on your feet, running in circles, yelling things like, "Don't touch that!" or "I don't want to see that in your mouth again!"  Yeah. Me too. I am ragged and it's only lunch time. I even spent an hour (kid free) at the dentist - thankfully, I didn't have to yell at anyone while I was there :)

I don't know what it is that causes my daughter to turn into a tiny, hyped-up hooligan at times, but Lord knows I would pay money for an antidote. Can I be honest for a minute? ... Those types of episodes are really few and far between at our house. I am grateful for the laid back personality that she inherited from her father. But maybe that's what causes me to feel more stressed - because it's a behavior that I'm not used to.

Now, of course, like any normal child, she can turn on   a   dime.

That eye twinkle and smirk that flash in front of me as I try to reach out and grab her before she takes off running like a banshee {sometimes naked} through the house. Every so often I start to think I might not catch her. And all the while, she squeals and laughs uncontrollably, thinking she is the most clever person to ever be born.

Yes, on these days I am tired.  Tired of running.  Tired of correcting. Tired of anticipating what kind of chaos is going to happen next.  Can I get an "Amen" for nap time?  In this life of mine - the one where I am called Mommy, I might have moments of panic. There may be times when I think I've failed. When all I can do is sit down and cry.

Through all the fatigue, through the days spent wearing my fanciest sweatpants, through mornings of skipping showers so I can sleep in a little longer, I know my heart wouldn't trade it for anything. This is where God put me. I am a mom and I get the WHOLE package. Not just the glamorous parts. Being a mother isn't a pick and choose gig. I am learning that often it's through the messy parts - when I am feeling most inadequate, that I am being stretched and challenged. Through this dirt and grime in my soul, God smiles and shows me my strengths. He proves to me what I'm capable of achieving if I can just endure the race a little longer. It's a beautiful thing - discovering more about who you really are {who God made you to be} when you rise to the challenge of being a parent and can accept both the glamorous AND the gritty.

The Privilege of Teaching Happiness

"Make it a rule...never, if possible, to lie down at night without being able to say "I have made one human being at least a little wiser, a little happier or a little better this day."

Wow. This quote from Charles Kingsley inspires me. It encourages me. And - it scares me a little. Am I REALLY to hold myself responsible for influencing people in such a way that it causes them to grow and be a better individual?? As a Stay-at-Home Mom of a two-year old, this concept couldn't be any more real. Each and every day, there is at least one moment when I stop and think, "I am her teacher... I am showing her how to live life..." Then I think, "Am I doing a good job?... Am I capable of such a daunting task?... Who let me do this?!?"

I'm sure this is an issue that all parents struggle with - not just mothers and not just the Stay-at-Home variety. It's a massive weight on your shoulders to realize that your words, your actions -- your everything can and WILL help to shape another human being into what he or she is to become.

Readers, I urge you today, do not let this massive weight become more than you can bear. Rather, take it as a challenge. View it as an amazing privilege that God would grant you, YOU the opportunity to impact someone's life in this way. To be their teacher, their mentor, their example of Christ and His love. I can guarantee that God would not give us the precious gift of children if He did not think that we could make some kind of difference in their lives - to make them better in some way. You can bet that there will be moments of complete and utter parenting failure, but rest assured that our Heavenly Father will be there to pick us up, dust us off, and reveal something new to us through each hurdle we face. Just as we'll get to do for OUR children.