Mother of the Year

So, I have embarked on something I've never really done before: Halloween costumes. Year 1: Baby in eggplant outfit. Why an eggplant? Not sure. All I know is she hated it. Year 2: Costume 1-- Krispy Kreme cashier. Why? Because I had Chuck Taylor's, jeans, a black t-shirt, a baby doll apron and a free hat from Krispy Kreme. Done and done. Costume 2: Pirates. Why? Because anyone can draw a beard on their face.

But this year, my friends, is different. My kid is-- get this--- something kids actually like! She's Olivia! Ok, so I confess. I took the easy way out AGAIN. (Buying costumes is such a pain.) For her birthday, Ryan and I got her Olivia dress up clothes. It had an explorer outfit and a ballerina outfit. And naturally she's the ballerina. My mother-of-the-year award comes into play with the pig accessories. (FYI--- if you haven't already caught on, Olivia is a cartoon pig girl.) Out of construction paper, we made ears AND a nose. I am SO excited to see her in this!

In fashion with other posh blogs, I will now post a how-to segment, just to really make myself feel awesome.

1) Pig Ears

Need:

Pink Construction Paper

Pink Headband

Black Sharpie

Glue

Stapler

1. Fold pink paper in half. Along the fold, draw pig ears, allowing room at the bottom to adhese to the headband and cut them out.

2. Fold ears over headband and glue. Staple once, right along the inside, close to the headband.

3. Trace outline of ear with marker.

Voila! (And I wonder how many time's I've typed that as "viola")

2-- Pig Nose: (my shining moment in motherhood)

Need:

Paper towel roll

Pink paint

Pink Construction paper

Sharpie

2 pieces of Yarn

1. Cut a 3" piece off paper towel roll.

2.Poke 2 holes symmetrically near one end. Paint pink. (We put pink paint on a paper plate and rolled it. Confession--- this is because we do not own paint brushes. Oops.)

3. Draw a circle using the end of the towel roll on the pink paper. Cut out and draw 2 nostrils. :)

4. After roll is dry, string yarn through the holes, tying knots on the inside in. You may choose to tape the inside of the roll so it does not fall out (or if you made one of the holes too big...)

5. Glue the circle to the opposite end of the paper towel roll.

6. Tie the nose around your little person's head to make all the other moms wish they were you.

So, in conclusion, I nominate myself, Liz Eagle, for the available position of Mother-of-the-Year. Yes, I may have volunteered for everything at preschool and was asked to do none of it. Yes, I may have cracker crumbs as a permanent interior for the car. Yes, I may have to quickly scrounge for a lunchbox-worthy lunch every Tuesday and Thursday. But by golly, I worked my little thinking cap off and I made a damn good Halloween costume, for the first time in my life. Take that Paul, Virginia, Betsy and all the other Episcopal Preschool Mercedes Moms. My kid looks stellar.

In the news today

My morning began today as most do: with an intense desire for coffee. I am beyond blessed to have Adalai in preschool.... that is right down the road from Starbucks. So I drop her off, and change the music from Empire of the Sun (to which Adalai is addicted) to your local NPR. And today's Charlotte Talks hot button issue was none other than homosexuality and bullying.

I was so incredibly interested in this topic. As a God-follower (no, not in the twitter sense), I felt myself becoming very emotionally engaged in the discussion. I hoped to call in or send an earth-shattering email to be read on-air with much fanfare, and then realized: I really just don't know where to begin.

Homosexuality, coupled with teen suicide, has been a media-pressed issue for the past few weeks. I mean, I don't need to even bring up the tragedy of the Rutger's student. As a mother, tears well up in my eyes as I think of the pain of this man, this son. Realistically, it should illicit emotion from anyone familiar with the story, regardless.

I feel I have been bombarded with the topic of gay acceptance through various media outlets recently. And honestly, I think it is a very beautiful thing. I wrote a blog a few months back concerning gay marriage and the topic continues to peek my interest. There were so many excellent points brought on by the discussion. A young girl of only 15 stated (paraphrased) "We cannot change bullying, we must change a culture." Another man called, who has a gay son and step-son and blamed religious teaching, as did another emailer.

And that's where I divert. The caller stated "The problem is that from a young age, people are taught that the Bible is the Word of God and that homosexuality is an abomination. People then believe they have authority from God to take these matters into their own hands. If the Bible were treated as a religious work as opposed to the authoritative Word of God, people would not feel an obligation to eliminate this behavior." (also paraphrased).

Sadly enough, I agree.... almost. I do believe the Bible is the word of God. That is a concrete truth in my life. But in spite of my doctrinal differences with the caller, one thing remains the same: People believe they have the authority to take matters into their own hands. Anyone who reads the Bible and only reads about the Old Testament abomination of homosexuality has apparently overstepped the New Testament call to Love, a call not to judge, unless we want all of our shortcomings on the table to be viewed by all.

I do not claim to know what God thinks about homosexuality or sexuality in general. Is homosexuality worse than adultery? Is it worse than heterosexual sex outside of marriage? Is it a choice or are there biological determinants? I don't know. One thing I am certain of, though. Jesus came that we may have life, and that our lives may be more fulfilled. There is nothing fulfilling about fear-driven hatred or judgement. In fact, "Perfect love drives out fear."

So, to again quote the 15-year-old guest (who does not claim to identify with one gender above another) "We must change a culture". In this case, our Christian culture. We must become not a subculture who is hateful towards or oblivious to those who live outside our worldview, but instead those who chose to embrace Jesus' teaching of love. We must change our mindset of "God hates fags" (whether we show in through picket signs or judgmental glances) to a heart of love, with open arms accepting all and leaving the judgment to God.

"For God so loved the world..." Funny. We're all included.

My Life is not Perfect.

My life is not perfect. Well, to some anyway.

My house is not perfectly clean. (Or partially...)

Groceries do not always exist.

Meals are not always prepared.

My kids do not perfectly sleep.

My oldest doesn't not perfectly listen.

My youngest does not perfectly nurse.... though his weight gain may prove otherwise.

My oldest does not perfectly avoid hitting. Including her teacher.

My body is not perfectly trimmed down.

My diet is not perfectly balanced.

My car doesn't perfectly start.

My attitude isn't always consistent.

My relationship with my husband isn't perfectly pleasant.

I don't get a perfect 8 hours of sleep... ever.

My clothes no longer perfectly fit.

Our bills are not perfectly caught up.

I do not have perfectly updated baby books.

I do not always perfectly bathe my babies.

I don't always perfectly change the youngest's diapers.

I do not perfectly understand my relationships with others.

I do not understand the resistance I have towards others.

My days are not perfectly planned to balance babies, friends, or community involvement.

I would often rather sleep than communicate.

But I can tell you one thing. I am okay. I am okay with just being okay. I am okay with doing my best. I am okay if my best involves dirty diapers wrapped up, but not trashed. I'm okay with having clean dishes, even if they are still in the dishwasher. I'm okay with having clean sheets, even if they're STILL in the dryer. I'm okay with having flaking fingernail polish. I'm okay with having a body that says "Look at me! I have kids!" I'm okay with my only outing being the gym, even if it's simply to leave the house. I'm okay with having a little tree-frog of a baby who's constantly attached to me. I'm okay with a defiant 3-year-old who is constantly negotiating. I am okay with a husband who is gone every night to work so I can stay home with our kids. I'm okay with letting go of petty things to make room for the big stuff.

I'm okay with with my own brand of perfect. And I am okay with me.

Dream World Vs. Reality

I've been a mother of 2 for 3 weeks now, as of tomorrow. So far, no one has died, broken a bone, gone hungry or run away (myself included). But I can say that in spite of the previously listed victories, there have been quite a few things to which I have had to adjust. I'd had a few subconscious expectations of which I am only now aware.

At about 2 weeks in, I began leave the house. Alone. For at least an hour. Magical? Miracle? Call it what you will but it is no less than beautiful. So as I went on my lonely journey this morning, I took some time to think about some things.

I drove my stir-crazy self to Smelly Cat for a nice iced coffee and a muffin. It was a beautiful and I mean BEAUTIFUL morning. So, I sat outside and flipped through a left-behind issue of "Natural Awakening" magazine, followed by day 14 of our church's 40-day book. After reading an article in the magazine about pivotal tattoos and thinking about the meaning of my "freedom" tattoo (all the while feeling bound), I read the day's topic. It wasn't so much the topic, which I believe was "God's calling for your life", that got me to thinking as much as it was just having a small amount of alone time with God. I sat in silence for a bit after reading and enjoyed being alone. I allowed my thoughts to go in whichever direction they took me. I began to think about Adalai. I thought how nice it would be to bring her with me next time to sit outside with some sidewalk chalk and draw while I sat, sipping coffee. I thought about how much she would enjoy being outside. I thought about our upcoming family roadtrip. Then I thought about my attitude toward her lately.

In an ideal world, Adalai would listen to me consistently. She would not attempt to step on baby brother. She would not yell at her preschool teacher on the 3rd day... 4 times. She would play with only one toy at a time and promptly clean her mess. She would wipe her mouth after eating. She would lay down quietly at both naptime and bedtime. She would potty alone and allow me the same courtesy. She would enjoy the snacks I prepared for her. She would abide by all the household rules without need for reminders. I'm pretty sure you get the picture.

My child has a large, be it ever so beautiful, personality and it is often one that is hard to contain. It is one with which I am familiar because I, too, share it. I've been trying to pinpoint the issue I've had in this transitional period. "Do I not have enough room in my heart for 2 kids?" Well, yeah, I guess I do. "Do I not have enough room in my day to parent 2 kids?" 24 hours is my only option, so guess I've got to work with it. "Am I just simply not cut out for this?" Too late to play that card. And then, sitting outside on this glorious morning, I finally put my finger on it: Micromanagement. That's it! That's what I'm doing wrong.

So, I got up and went for a walk. An intended mile or so walk that turned in to almost 4. I had a lot to work out emotionally and mentally. Adalai has a spectacular personality. God knew it from the very beginning. And I, as her mother, have failed in the past few months at letting it be what it is. I had to face reality.

As a mother, it is not my job to control. It is not my job to change. It is not even my job to break habits. It is my job to love. It is my job to guide. It is my job to teach. When I begin taking her sassy little attitude personally, I begin to get myself into trouble. I realized I have had far too high of expectations. I mean come on, Liz. The kid just turned 3 AND she suddenly has to share mommy and daddy. She's going through a lot, too.

My dream world prompts me to see Adalai as a quiet-natured-play-in-the-floor kind-of-kid. And she's just not. And never has been. Why am I treating this like it's a bad thing? God has given her an amazing personality with amazing potential and he has given me strength (if I'll accept it) to parent. A few influential people in my life have told me at separate times that "God has given YOU your children for a reason. There is no one in the world more capable of parenting them than you." What fantastic words of wisdom.

So my hope is that my reality becomes one in which I embrace the chaos, because it is practically inevitable. My hope is that I embrace God's grace and the learning curve for new moms. My hope is that I can find support in other people who have had similar experiences in child rearing. And my hope is that I begin supporting Adalai for who she is and extend to her the love which I would like extended to me.

Parenting is a journey. We intend it to be a nice stroll and often times it ends up being a hike. We have our dreams, and then we wake up (often multiple times in a night). But walk or hike, sleep or insomnia, it's a journey that takes us from who we are to who we are intended to be. So, I'm strapping on my backpack, I'm grabbing my boots and I'm in this sucker for the longhaul.

The Not-So-Bright Side of Motherhood

I don't know how people do it. I mean, some women just THRIVE on motherhood and pregnancy. Thriving would be nice, but I think that I'm currently at the "surviving" stage. For instance, a 2-almost-3-year-old strong, strong, STRONG willed daughter, who refuses sleep and food, 36 1/2 week pregnant mother, 95+ degree weather, and a 1200 square-foot house. What does this say? Misery? Shoot me now? Have a mental breakdown?

I'll go with the last one, please. One thing I never, and I mean NEVER, wanted to do with my kids was yell out of anger. Maybe yell into a pillow or yell into the sky, but never yell AT my kid. And today, I did. Not only did I yell, but I yelled the "shut-up" word. There are times where I feel I can take no more of the "No, mommy, I'm not going to do that" attitude, or the "No mommy, I'm not going to sleep". I honestly feel like I am at the end of my rope sometimes!

Being as massively pregnant as I am, I feel like I should be sitting inside, in the peace and quiet with my feet propped up, in order to relax as much as to avoid swelling. I should be folding little baby clothes and feeling the peace of allowing my body to do one of the things it was made to do. I should feel joyous and excited and full of grateful anticipation of this little baby that will be here soon and the little gal I've already got.

Those are all the things that SHOULD be happening. What's really going on? 1-Well, my husband has been working like a MAD MAN for the past 2 weeks because of restaurant week, leaving me feeling like a single mom. 2-Half the time, I forget I'm even having a baby. It just feels like I have some sort of chronic illness that causes irritability and waddling. 3- Throw silence out the window. Heck, throw make-up, hairspray, pants and toenail clippers on out, too.

I just don't get how some women do it. My honest feeling and recurring thought is "I am more excited for this pregnancy to be over than to have another child. I can hardly handle 1. What in the WORLD am I going to do with 2?" I am looking so forward to the day where I can leave both kids with Ryan and go out for a run... and maybe just not come back. At least for a few hours.

So, I'm exchanging all my would-be, should-be excitement for a life of anxiety and cabin-fever. I know this too shall pass. I know it won't be like this forever. But in the meantime, I am seriously a basket-case.

Tonight, as I was laying Adalai to bed (Yes, it is 8:40 and yes, apparently God has heard my cry), I told her that sometimes, people get frustrated and yell and that mommy shouldn't yell when she's frustrated. And I told her I was sorry and that I would do my part to show patience and that I needed her to do her part and listen when I tell her it's naptime. And she says "Well mommy, you don't have to get frustrated. You just have to put me back in the bed." Oh, the wisdom of children. In a way, it was kind of soothing. She is right. So the moral of all this?

Life is what it is. And it is what you make it. I am honestly not trying to make myself miserable, believe me. But I am longing so much for this stage in life to be over that I am not seeing things logically. (Have I mentioned my weight? Because that's another area of this rationality that I lost sight of as quickly as I lost sight of my toes). I honestly don't expect to wake up in the morning and be "Susie Homemaker Supermom". I owe it to myself to at least be realistic and to own how I'm feeling. But I also owe it to my family (mainly my little girl) to "not get frustrated and just put her back in bed" in all things; to just take a deep breath and accept my life for where it is and what it is, realize I can't control everything, and, heck, maybe even choose to enjoy it instead of wishing these beautiful (ok, we'll at least say decent) moments away.

My beef with the Body

{Disclaimer: these are my thoughts, to which I am entitled.}

This may not be as positive as I would like it to be. Might not be uplifting at all, actually. But if nothing else, it will at least be honest. I'm not exactly sure how to gather my thoughts on the topic so I'll treat this blog like a seashell hunt: just head out with a bucket and grab up whatever fits in.

I think my beef with the Body is the politics of it all. That's really the only word I can think to tie to it. An example: a few years ago, I went on a retreat with the women at my church. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. Ok, exaggeration, but you get the point. I really loved it. When we got back, there was a specific woman who felt kind of left out. Now granted, she may have been overly sensitive but, as the Body, it's our job to carry each other's burdens, so I started to lift away.

We decided to start having Ladies' Nights occasionally, so everyone had the opportunity to get together. Nothing overly planned or overly religious. Just some girls getting together to catch up and continue to develop friendships. Not long after that, I was invited to join the women's ministry team.

After about 4 months of being a part of the team, we started planning for our next retreat. It was seriously a heck of a time of planning. I learned a lot and had a lot of fun. But I also had a lot of annoyances. At most meetings, I left feeling like everything I said was inferior to the other thoughts given. I felt treated as "Oh that young Liz. She hasn't been in 'ministry' long enough to know what works and what doesn't." I kind of got over this and moved on. After our planning, we got to the retreat and it was amazing. God really used it and it was really great. I was so thankful for it.

As months went on, planning commenced for other events. And that's when the trouble started. I was "given" an event to plan and quickly it was "taken" from me and "given" to someone else. Then, the event was cancelled and never came to be. It was after this that I realized what I needed to do: move on. And so I did. I quit the team

And what bothered me the most was that I never wanted to be that person. I never wanted to quit ANYTHING, especially within the Church, because of personal differences. I wanted to persevere. I wanted to work at it and get things figured out. So, I tried. I tried to work things out with people. I quickly came to realize not everyone wanted to work things out. I'm not playing the martyr. I'm not saying I did all things correctly. I am saying, though, that I was left feeling ignored and unimportant.

So, now it's time for retreat planning again. And this year, I'm not a part of it at all. It feels really strange. I know God had me work with the "team" for a bit for a purpose. I know He had me move on for a purpose. But that doesn't stop the frustration. It feels like the one thing at which I thrived and which I truly loved to do was taken from me. I didn't fit in enough with those in leadership to be validated and truly included.

Now, in conclusion, these are my thoughts:

I believe that in the Church, there must be leadership, but there must not be a hierarchy. I believe people of different skill sets and personalities should be celebrated, not made to feel excluded. I believe we should do all things to please God, not others.

The Church is an organism with various parts, each working in unison for a common goal. When you begin to lose focus of this and begin focusing on the he-said, she-said, he-wants, she-wants of it all and start trying to please others, it causes division, the very thing the Body stands against.

I am proud of who I am. I'm thankful for the gifts God gave me. So, I'll take them an serve elsewhere, thank you very much. And hopefully, I can keep my eye on the prize. :)

The Ant and the Feather

By the walkway in front of the house are many bugs, of different shapes and sizes. Each day, they move to and from their homes, completing tasks to sustain their lives. And today, I witnessed the most amazing miracle.

I saw an ant; a small, red ant. He was walking backwards across the walkway, with a feather in his mouth. I watched him as he pulled it, thinking of the determination he must have had. I pictured him walking along as usual but this time, happening upon a feather. I picture him with his hand on his chin, staring at the glorious object, thinking "Hm. I really bet this will come in handy back at the hill." By himself, he begins his journey.

I watch as he pulls it along, rather successfully, across the concrete desert and up the dirt mountain, through the jungle of grass. Eventually, however, the ant gives up, asserting the feather is too much for the long haul home. He cuts his loses and heads back without the treasure.

I'm not upset he let go of the feather. In fact, I'm impressed he made it as long as he did. Sometimes, that's the choice we have to make. We're always afraid to give up. It doesn't mean we're weak. It may mean the monster of a task that is set before us is not as we intended. It may not be as beneficial as we once believed. Maybe we shouldn't be as afraid of moving on. Maybe we should be proud of the bravery we show in trying anything out of the ordinary at all.

Some things are bigger than we originally think. Some things we carry for no other reason but to prove ourselves. Sometimes we realize, "What does an ant hill need a feather for anyway?" The ant was small; the feather was much larger. The ant was determined; the feather was a burden. The ant was wise; the feather remained as it was before it met the ant. But I choose to believe the ant will be forever changed by his little outburst of enthusiasm and his choice not to admit defeat but to weigh the benefits and chose to return to his hill happily.

An interesting turn of events

So, like any good 20-something, I've been listening to a lot of NPR lately. I read an article the other day and listened to an interview yesterday that coincided and equally disturbed me. One was about the lack of active fathering and the other about a choice not to marry.

It's not that they were too one-wing-or-the-other. It's not really about politics at all. It's about our shattering and deteriorating social system and institution we call "family". Now, being a 24-year-old wife and stay-at-home mom of almost 2 kids, my veiwpoint may be considered conservative. None the less, I hold family in very high esteem. Here is a link to the article:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=128265730&sc=fb&cc=fp

Take a look at my life. I mean, I am one of those statistics. I am a "got pregnant out of wedlock and got married later" kind of person. If I may say, it is indeed spreading like an epidemic. I can hardly count the number of people I know that are in that same boat. But what's odd to me is this simple thought:

Gay people are pleading for marriage rights and straight people are trying to get rid of the institution.

Hmm. Rather odd, wouldn't you say? Is this a case of the grass being greener? Or do we, as humans, have such a primal need to fight? That anything we can't have we think we need or whatever we are encouraged to have, we prove we can do without?

This is my point: Look at our society. Ok, now stop. Wouldn't want anyone to go too deep and end up depressed. But in a brief glance into our social systems, nuclear families are no longer father/mother/children. They are mother/boyfriend/his kids/her kids. Father/girlfriend/her kids/his kids. And the list goes on.

God gave us a pretty good family set up for a reason. We have taken too much emphasis off family and have put it on ourselves individually. To quote an older woman from the radio interview "Young people go into marriage expecting too much of the other person. And when it doesn't work out, they move on to the next one and end up with the same results." (paraphrased because I can't remember verbatim).

I don't believe you should get married because you have kids. But I do believe that if you choose to have children with someone, you choose to let go of yourself. If you get married, you choose to become one with another person. You choose to lose yourself and find it in someone else, as they do with you. It's not easy and it does take work. It's the "work" part people don't want to think about. Let me tell you something, my friends, life is not all butterflies and kittens and the minute we accept it is the minute we release ourselves from unrealistic expectations for other people.

Maybe straight people should take some time to learn from the gay community on this one.

4th, Shmorth.

So today I came to a realization. It was a borderline epiphany, actually. It all came about when Ryan and I attempted to plan a cookout which failed miserably. Failed to the extent that we pretended people were in the yard waiting for us to come out and play. It was really kind of funny. But what did this lead to?

It made me realize that I make zero effort at all to befriend people. I get into my own little world and then complain that no one joins me there. I don't make an effort to go to other people's houses but expect them to come to mine. When I moved, I whimpered that no one offered to help, yet I can think of half a dozen friends who have moved in the past year, whom I have not offered to help. I get whiny when I see people I know hanging out and we're not invited, yet I don't go out of my way to plan anything.

I'm not being hard on myself, only realistic. It's a "take one to know one" mentality. If I want to consistently have friends, I must be a more consistent friend. That is something that I'm not really great at. I once again use the "I have a kid/ will have another kid soon" excuse. I'm not really willing to work towards friendship.

So, my life, as of today, consists of some self-realizations and understanding. This week, I will make an effort to talk to people. I will make an effort to let my kid hang out with friends. Like, her friends her age, not grown-up friends. Here's to slight change and tweaking.

Here today, and probably here again tomorrow.

You know, I really feel more like myself, or at least like I have a little more "me" time if I blog. Over the past year or so, I've done a few but haven't really kept up with them. My excuse? "Well, I have a kid, so I don't really have time to blog." Or "I don't really have a subject, like recipes or household stuff or kid stuff or religious stuff." Then I realized that really, I don't need a platform. And I really don't need anyone to read this ol' thing (which makes writing it way easier). I just need something to create and a reason beside facebook and email to be online. I feel a bit more productive.

My life, as of today, is one filled with anticipation and excitement. I'm so excited for this little baby boy to get here and join his big sister in the chaos of daily life in this household. And as I type this, he kicks under my ribs as if to remind me his life is already relatively chaotic. But I don't think he quite gets it. Our lives out here in the outside world are really insane and sometimes hard to deal with. I don't think he knows what he's getting himself into by joining this family. We're all a lot to put up with, really. And I think it goes without saying that our lives are completely unpredictable. I know this is true of everyone but I believe it has been especially true for us lately.

Our timeline has been hard to follow but it often reminds me I'm not the boss I think I am. Everything big in our life has been unexpected and unplanned. Our kids, our big move (all 3 of them), jobs (or lack thereof)... I think we just work under the expectation that nothing goes as planned and good things come to those who make irrational choices. I don't know that I would recommend this theory for everyone. It just seems to have worked for us.

Don't get me wrong: I LOVE my life. It's perfect in that crazy imperfect kind of way. I have been given an understanding and hardworking husband, a little girl with a personality to envy and a little boy to share more experiences with. Life is beautiful. Life is what it should ben. And I'm grateful to have a few beautiful souls to celebrate the chaos.