Farewell, Home

For the past 6 1/2 years, we have lived in this sweet house. And now we're about to bid it farewell. For the wondering minds, we are staying in Topeka but moving to a different house. We'll have more room for our people and more land for adventuring. To be clear, we didn't go looking for a different house. In fact, mere weeks before I said to Dan that I figured we had about 5 years left in our current house. It's funny, really. I'm certain the emotions will set in over the next few weeks as we prep to move, but for now, I'm only excited about a new house to make our home. As a practice of closure, here is my ode to our Birchwood Lane house. 

Both our babies came home to us for the first time here. This is all they've ever known as home. Every year we have about a dozen tulips come up in the ground covering. I can name at least 5 children who have plucked a tulip or two to give to their momma. When Bennett was learning to walk, we would spend time in the front yard while he would climb up and down the front steps.

 I hosted my first baby shower back here some 6 years ago. That little one is now in kindergarten. Many boys have climbed that ginko and made it way too high for comfort. We used to pay the nephews in Smarties to pick up all the corn cobs squirrels would bring into our yard.

 Pre-kids, I spent nearly an entire week painting these stripes. And they are PERFECT. I'm not a terribly whimsicle person, but they, along with the bright yellow interior door, add just the right amount of whimsy to an otherwise formal entry. I've never fallen going down the stairs but have fallen twice going up. Once with a full cup of steaming coffee. Bennett took a tumble halfway down earlier this year, but other than those mishaps, these stairs have surprisingly been free of casualties.

Piano lessons galore here. When I was pregnant with Finley, I think I had to take a bathroom break in between each student. And when we bought that couch 6 years ago, I swore it added equity to our house (spoiler alert: it didn't). Oh, and that yellow chair in the corner I purchased at a garage sale for $1 over 10 years ago. Still one of my favorite finds. 

When Bennett was a challenging newborn, I paced the house and this room, in particular. The floor is creaky, like an old house, and walking through this room helped calm him down. I'm going to miss the creaks that I know so well. 

Bennett's big boy room. He napped here for a year and then has had rest time for a year. He plays HARD and has a wild imagination. We've explained to him that at the new house, he'll have a smaller bed, but I think there will still be a transition period from his massive bed to a normal size twin bed.

Oh this room. It started as a screened in porch. Dan built a porch swing for me. Bennett and I spent HOURS out here the first few months of his life. It was truly his only happy place. Converting it to a 3-seasons room was the best decision we made - all Dan's idea.

What started out as a space floor-to-ceiling with wallpaper has now held dozens of people for meals. Another sweet old room with creaky floors and a swinging door that has pinched a handful of fingers.

I used to cook all the time. It was a calming practice. Then we had kids. Now meals are fast and furious and meal prep is even faster. But this is still such a sweet space.

I would guess that 90% of our living occurs here.  First steps, first words. It all happened here. 

Hanging clocks high is so fun. Except twice a year when the time changes. It took us an average of 2 months each time to get a ladder and adjust it. Lesson learned. 

When we moved in, I dreamed of spending hours on the window seat reading. I don't know about you, but I prefer a cozier spot to read, so that never happened. Nonetheless, it is a happy space.

I did some math the other day and calculated some obnoxious amount of hours spent here when the babes were little. Nighttime feedings, rocking sick babes, pacing until an infant falls back asleep. And the one time I saw a spider while nursing and proceeded to chase it down until it met its demise.

All the potty training. All of it. And all the learning to wash hands. And the constant presence of Dan and Heidi staring at guests in the picture.

Guess what?! A king-sized bed CAN fit in this room! Best purchase EVER. It's a Tuft and Needle and it's our favorite.

One of my favorite memories here is when my dear sweet bestie Andrea and I bathed our tots while our husbands were out of town. We were both massively pregnant but knew we needed to kill some time before bedtime. So we parked it on the floor and let the tots splash.

Bennett loves this space. Often during his rest time, I hear him telling stories in here. And stuffing all sorts of nonsense in the drawers. 

This has been a perfect starter home for our crew. But it's time to move on. We are so grateful for the years spent here and for the memories we have. New memories at a new place begin soon! And we can't wait. 

Bennett D: All Things Speech

I've been wanting to write about Bennett's speech challenges for awhile now, but my pride kept getting in the way and I didn't really want to put it out there that our child struggles. Then I read my college friend Cindy's beautiful post about her daughter's struggles and felt so validated that I knew it was time. Time to put my thoughts into words. Time to shed light on some darkness. Time to find the "me too" in our situation.

I don't speak about this lightly as I recognize that Bennett is his own person who will, one day, read these posts (hi much older Bennett, I bet you're pretty awesome...you've always been pretty awesome). So this is more my side of the story and my feelings regarding the areas of struggle for our wee one.

One disclaimer my friend Cindy gave is the realization that, in light of all the special challenges faced by so many kiddos, we want to recognize that our kids' challenges are minor. But, nonetheless, they are real to us. So thanks, Cindy, for so graciously giving space to talking about minor and major hard things.

When Bennett was about 15 months old, it was subtly pointed out to me that perhaps he was behind in his speech. At the time, he was only saying "mama" and "dada" though I'm not convinced that he conceptually knew what those words meant. His wonderful daycare provider was a speech therapist and she gently encouraged us to seek out other assistance when, at 18 months, he was not making any progress in regards to speech development. 

Last January, when Bennett was 19 months, I made the call to our local early childhood support agency and choked back tears as I explained my concerns. An evaluation was scheduled and a whole slew of professionals descended upon our house to evaluate our little boy.

The day of the evaluation he actually had a fever and was much less babbly than normal. The final question during the evaluation was, "What keeps you up at night in regards to his speech?" Of course, being the emotional momma that I am, I started crying and explained that I just want him to be normal. And I feared that his lack of speech would prevent a "normal" life. 

I could talk for DAYS about all the wonderful people at TARC. They have been encouraging when they need to be encouraging, full of knowledge and resources, and so patient as we navigate these waters. Sweet Molly, our speech therapist who I want to adopt as an aunt to our kids, has been phenomenal. I know more about speech development than I ever thought was possible (input is my number one strength, heyo StrengthsQuest...this means I love information) and she has tirelessly given us resources and strategies as we work and work and work to help Bennett with his speech. 

So where am I going with all of this?

On this journey, I have gained a great deal of empathy towards parents of children with special needs. I teach special education so I always thought myself to be a woman of compassion. Oh my, was I ever wrong. But I'm learning. For some kiddos, their challenges are broad and dip into many areas. For other kiddos, their challenges are so specific and they are able to, for the most part, function "normally" (whatever that means). Bennett falls into the latter category. I've learned that his exceptionality does not define him (nor should anyone's exceptionality define them!). He's a smart cookie (all parents say that, right?). He knows when Molly and I are talking about his speech development. And he knows when he wants to work on it and when he's just not that interested. Just the other day, Molly and I were trying to figure out how he pronounced the "h" sound. Molly picked up one of his horses and asked him what it was. Bennett, the sly little stinker, just said, "Nope!" Winning. 

He's about to age out of his time with TARC and will be evaluated soon to be placed on an actual IEP through our home district. I know with that means. I've written and implemented countless IEPs. But it feels different when it's MY kid who will be on the receiving end. 

I think I needed a swift kick in the booty in regards to my thoughts about special education. Bennett's a cool, smart, perceptive, timid, loud, slightly clumsy, and sweet little boy. He's made tons of progress in his speech but we still have a long way to go. We're in it for the long haul. And some days that makes me tearful, but as of lately, it's made me happily expectant. This is not his whole story. This is just a snippet of his story. A mere blip of who he is. If he is able to be more compassionate as a result of this experience, then it was totally worth it. May we, with every day we get with him, push him to see the best in others and not just their abilities or disabilities.

All of my love and more to all you parents. It's a tough job we have, but we wouldn't trade it for the world, am I right? 

XOXO 

Post-Partum Round 2, Part 1

Hi friends. It's been awhile. But we're all still kickin' over here. Just still adjusting to life with another tiny human to care for.

The past four months have been so redeeming and so humbling. Many of you have reached out to me to see how things are going with baby number 2 and it has meant the world. I figure I owe it to you all to update you on our status.

Sweet Finley Margaret entered the world right on schedule. Well, right on MY schedule. Which is mostly hilarious because things rarely go according to my schedule. I joked with some friends in the week leading up to the induction that I really wanted her here by noon so I could have lunch and relax for the rest of the day in the recovery room. AND IT HAPPENED. Finley stormed into the world at 11:58 am. Around 11:50, mid-push, I made a joke to the nurses and my doctor that I didn't think she'd be here by noon and they informed me that, actually, she probably would. So yes. I enjoyed a lunch of chicken strips, fries, and chocolate cake while gazing at our petite little miss.

Our hospital stay was dreamy. Well, about as dreamy as a post-partum hospital stay could be. My body recovered quickly and  I was able to sleep on my back which felt AMAZING.

The next thing I share I only do because I want others to be aware. This was, without question, the scariest parenting moment for me. And, had I known what I know now, it wouldn't have been nearly as terrifying.

During our second night at the hospital, we sent Finley to the nursery so Dan and I could get some sleep (to be honest, we sent Finley both nights...no shame...in my weary state Dan reminded me that we would care for Finley nearly every night for the next 18 years, so letting her stay in the nursery in between feedings her first two nights was not going to scar her...). Around 1:30 am our night nurse popped in and said, "We want you to know that Finley is hooked up to monitors and we are running some tests. It seems that she had a seizure and we want to know what's going on."

In that split-second, I knew I had a choice to make. I could either keep my cool or completely lose it and risk not being able to stop crying. I truly believe the Lord took over in that moment and helped me remain calm. I asked if I could see her. Dan and I walked down the hall to the nursery and saw our helpless little munchkin hooked up to a handful of monitors. Her oxygen had also dropped so she was receiving breathing assistance as well.

I asked if I could nurse her and they let me. Then one of the sweetest things happened and her oxygen levels instantly went up as I nursed her. They wanted to keep monitoring her through the night and hadn't gotten any test results back so they encouraged us to go back to our room to rest and then we'd find out more in the morning.

By the grace of God I was able to actually sleep. The next morning the test results were back but nothing was conclusive. Since a doctor was not present and only two nurses had observed the incident, we didn't even know what we were to be watching for. The pediatric hospitalist assured us that everything was fine and that it was probably just an underdeveloped nervous system. Even so, I left the hospital that day feeling uneasy.

Fast forward one week. Finley, in a handful of situations, had, what I refer to as, "twitching incidents." Her arms and legs would twitch on and off when she was sleeping. It didn't look like it was hurting her, but it was certainly not normal infant twitches. Once more she had an incident when I was at our wonderful local breastfeeding clinic. The lactation consultant was concerned and called our pediatrician. I had to really advocate for sweet Fin to be seen soon but we were able to schedule an appointment for the following afternoon. The morning of the appointment Finley had another twitching incident and I quickly took a video of it.

After what seemed like forever, we were finally in the exam room with our WONDERFUL pediatrician. We explained what we had been noticing and showed her the video of Finley twitching. A light bulb went on for her and she was able to give us a name. Finley had neonatal sleep myclonus. It's a benign condition that basically means her nervous system is underdeveloped. Our pediatrician told us it would fix itself in the next month or two. And you know what?! She was right. Right about when Finley was two months old I noticed that I hadn't seen any twitching for awhile. And she has been healthy and fine ever since.

I recognize that that was not the most interesting post on this ol' blog. But it did lend itself to multiple life lessons.
1. You've GOT to advocate for your kid. If YOU think something is off, you do what it takes to find answers. You are the parent and you know your kid better than anyone else. I pushed to let Finley be seen that day and I'm so thankful I did. I really didn't care that I was perhaps coming across as a hyper-concerned momma bear. Our co-pay that day was $85 but it was the best $85 we could have spent because it gave us peace of mind that everything was going to be okay.
2. DO NOT DO YOUR OWN INTERNET RESEARCH. :) Due to my experience with Bennett, I had learned that doing my own internet research would only increase my anxiety. So I stayed away from all google search bars and it was the best decision.
3. We are so thankful everything checked out. And we know that Finley will likely experience things that are far more traumatic than this incident. Either way, this was the beginning of her story. We are thankful for the nurses who first noticed the twitching, the lactation consultant who encouraged me to seek out more answers, and the pediatrician who put our minds at ease.
4. Finley is not MINE. She was given to us by our Lord and Savior and, during the week that I thought something very serious was wrong with her, I had to remind myself over and over that, as a parent, one of the best things I could do for her is to keep giving her back to the Lord.

I promise the next post will be more inspiring or at least entertaining, but this was part of my story and I didn't want to leave it out. Thanks, faithful ones, for reading.

Pre Post-Partum Preparations

It's no secret that my post-partum experience with Bennett was an absolute train wreck. Go back and have a read if you're able. I've never pretended that I have it all together and that post only confirms my general messiness.

But the beauty in that post and, I hope, the beauty in the next few weeks and months is that that part of me has been redeemed. When I wrote it 20 months ago, I remember thinking, "If one momma is encouraged by this, that's enough." I was blown away by the women who reached out to me for months after that post with their own story. The power of "me too" was tremendous and I'm forever grateful that though I was at the bottom, I overcame and the Lord completely used the pain for good.

ALL THAT to say, I'm about to enter the post-partum phase again. During post-partum round one, I had many thoughts like "guess I'll only have one baby" or "there's no way I'm doing this again" or "how does anyone have more than one kid?!" I'm officially 37 weeks and 5 days pregnant with baby #2, so I was obviously able to overcome those thoughts.

What I want to share with you is how I'm preparing for entering a season that was so dark 26 months ago. Why? Because something tells me there's someone out there who is terrified of having baby #2 for the same reasons I was. Let me be real: I'm not on the other side of post-partum yet, of course, but I am preparing for it much more intentionally than before round one.

Let's get logistical.

I literally already have a script from my doctor for anti-anxiety meds. I kid you not when I say that I will get it filled before we leave the hospital. Why? Because I know myself. And I know my hormones are going to hit the fan and splatter everywhere (how's that for graphic?) the minute sweet baby girl is born. Perhaps I could try a few weeks sans the meds but WHY? When I was trying to wean myself off the meds in preparation of getting pregnant for the second time, a girlfriend told me to see them as one of the Lord's miracles. I could fight the anxiety hard core, but it would be mostly a losing battle. OR I could raise my hand and say, "Hi. I'm Heidi. I struggle with anxiety and need medication to help when my hormones are FREAKING THE FREAK OUT." And that's fine.

I met with a nurse from the breastfeeding clinic a few months ago. I rehashed my story through tear-filled eyes. Girls. I have told my nursing story to countless people and never get choked up about it, but for some reason, that day the emotions were REAL. But she was so encouraging. So, yes, we will try nursing again. If it doesn't work again, holla pump! And once I tire of that, holla formula!

The fall is when I'm the best version of myself. Always has been. Summer is historically hard. Those simple facts make me hopeful. Bennett will still go to daycare in the mornings while I'm on maternity leave and I have beautiful visions of taking little miss on morning walks and just enjoying the crisp air - my soul will undoubtedly need it.

I have an ARMY of prayers. I know I did last time as well, but I didn't reach out to them soon enough. Friends, I've already sent out my first SOS text. I firmly believe it takes a village to raise a child, but I also believe it takes a village to help a momma with a newborn. So, village, thank you in advance for being there. You know who you are.

In a month or two, I hope to update you on this journey. You know I'll be real. You can prematurely brace yourselves.

As always, if you're a new momma in the throes of life with a newborn, I see you, girl. Please don't fight alone. You are far too precious to go through this season in isolation. Reach out, friend. I got you.

Before Baby #2

There is so much to write before baby girl makes her appearance. And I've been paralyzed by all the swirling thoughts until recently when I realized that the thoughts are just going to get more swirly unless I just start writing.  So with this post, I have no goal. There is no "one topic" or theme. Rather, this is a compilation of my mind in these final weeks of being an oven for a very active little girl.

On friends:
After every experience with my girlfriends, I am reminded just how precious friends are and how worth it it really is to make friends and be a good friend. Last Friday night my equally-as-pregnant friend and I sat on the bathroom floor while we bathed our toddlers. Neither of us were comfortable but watching our tots pour water on each other and squeal with delight while we sat on the hard tile floor will undoubtedly be filed away in our minds and hearts for years to come.

At a recent girls night, we were all able to agree that this season of life is so sweet. And so hard. We swapped stories of our birthing experiences and our growing families. And we were able to agree that a phrase we say to our husbands almost nightly is: "Should we watch another episode or just go to bed?"

These are precious moments.

On being pregnant for the second time:
This pregnancy has been so different from the first. Baby girl moves constantly which is equally reassuring and exhausting. I'm basically in pain all the time. Womp womp. And, because I strive to be authentic on this little blog, I'll admit something so disturbing to you. I've gained 10 pounds in the last two weeks. HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN. I've decided it's all baby. Let's just leave it at that.

I'm in that funky part of a pregnancy when I want her to keep growing because a bigger baby will eat better and sleep better so obviously that's more pleasant in the long run. HOWEVER, I'm at the end of my rope physically. I'm sore, tired, yada yada, all the things that are standard for the final few weeks. My sub plans for maternity leave are set so she could come anytime now, but I have such a killer plan of when she should come and when I will return back to school that it's fine if she wants to hang out inside for a few more weeks. Whatevs. We're about to cross that finish line (I'm 37 weeks now and she's measuring big, so anytime now is safe).

On the toddler no longer being my baby:Oh this one I have shed many tears over. I think he's ready for the transition. I mean, as ready as a two year old ever is for something that is going to turn his world upside down. We talk about the baby being in mommy's tummy though he is occasionally still convinced the baby is in his tummy. Someday we'll break it to him that his tummy won't ever hold a baby.

We talk about the baby's room (he's now in his big boy room with a queen-sized bed because, holla, that's what we had). We talk about how the baby is his little sister and is a girl. I've tried to have him say her name with minimal success. Daniel has threatened to not tell me the name of our next child though I have reminded him that we split the naming duty 50/50 so that's unfortunately not an option.

Bennett is his daddy's sidekick and will spend hours in the garage standing on the 'yadder' while Dan builds things. I think this is the Lord's way of preparing us all for the transition. I envision many evening and weekend hours where my boys will be fixing things in the garage while little miss and I do what newborns and mommas do. And this vision is oh so sweet to me.

I know we could read a million books to "help him prepare for the transition" and that's all good and fun. But I also know that, as a two year old, nothing will make it as real to him as when it actually happens. So I'm praying daily that (1) he will feel so loved in the midst of bringing a baby home and (2) that he will be such a great big brother to his baby sister. I know we'll have our moments, but I'm choosing to be extremely hopeful about the fall.

I have had many moments of "mommy-guilt" as I finish out this pregnancy. Am I spending enough intentional time with Bennett? Am I remembering every single second and loving it all ? Am I doing it right? And you know what conclusion I've come to? I'm doing the best I can. We will make it to the other side. Even if that means Bennett watches WAY more Thomas than I ever thought possible and if I spend more hours on the cough than anywhere else. It'll be okay. This is a season and this too, shall pass, and Bennett will be resilient.

On writing:
I love writing. So very very much. Due to the constant swirling of my mind, writing is a way to help me make sense of all the things. I've never asked this question but I sense the need to ask it. What would you like me to write about? I've been at a loss as of lately but my mind and my heart miss it. Give me a little feedback.

Perhaps the next time we chat I'll have a tiny human next to me rather than inside me. I miss you, dear readers. Let's chat again soon.

Toddlering

Today I posed a question on the ol' Facebox.  I asked for activities to do during the winter with an 18 month old.  And I requested that my Facebox friends be my own personal Pinterest, if you will.  Because ain't nobody got time fo dat.  Pinterest, that is.  [Love me some Pinterest, but my input (#1 strength, holla) mind can absolutely NOT handle the overload of information.]

Approximately 60 seconds after I posed my question, I seriously considered taking it down.  Only because I was annoying myself with answers I thought people would give (we all know the interwebz can be an obnoxious place). I told myself that if I was going to be this critical of answers not even given yet, it wasn't going to be worth my mental energy.  So I navigated my way to the post and saw the first several responses.  And my friends were full of good ideas!  So I told my mind to take a hike and left the post alone.  Several hours later, the post is loaded with oodles of ideas.

We all know I'm type-A.  The post was screaming at me for some quality organization.  So I did what any self-respecting desperate mom of a toddler in the winter would do.  And I organized the ideas.  For me.  And for YOU!  So have at it.  I know I will.

Some Monies:
> Small plastic slide to keep inside - B's bestie has one like this and he's borderline obsessed with it
> Cozy coupe - we got ours for free from a friend last year and it's still one of Bennett's favorite things.  We keep it in hiding and pull it out a few times a week.  It's always a hit.
> Membership somewhere with an indoor pool - we're totally looking into this

Less Monies:
> Coloring books - I like to give B only a few crayons at a time...otherwise he gets overwhelmed with all the crayons and ends up trying to eat them...so that's fun.
> Sticker books - or just give them pieces of tape.  Because sometimes this momma is cheap.
> Color wonder  - a great option with minimal mess
> Play-doh - this momma will need to to take some deep breaths leading up to this one.
> Window clingy things - what kid wouldn't love these?
> Coloring on windows with Expo markers - I'm NOT AT ALL STRESSED about this one.  On opposite day. #hello1995  JK.  I'm actually really excited about this one.
> Pretend painting with water and tiny brushes (we did this today...HUGE hit with the little man)
> Bin of dried rice or beans - add fun small toys to it and it's an instant scavenger hunt (we have yet to do this, but it's inched high on our list)
> Water beads - I don't have experience with these, but the ladies who know say they're super
> Or an edible version 
> Balloons - keeping those suckers off the ground and other such activities you can do with balls of air
> Reusable sticker pad - I have high hopes for this bad boy.  Would have been a great gift idea for Christmas!
> Bring snow in (come ON, Kansas, get it TOGETHER) and give them water color paints - paint in big bowls or pans

No Monies:
> "Washing" dishes - a glass of wine may or may not be necessary prior to this one :)
> Move toys to different rooms - change is good.  Change is happy.
> Pack up most of the toys and bring out "new" ones periodically.  We do this all the time.  What!?  I didn't know I had alphabet magnets!  And a Cozy Coupe!?  Best day ever.  Every day.
> Toilet paper rolls, paper towel rolls, wrapping paper rolls, milk jugs, empty medicine bottles - gigantor wrapping paper rolls are way popular at this house...as are Amazon boxes and the packing materials that come in Amazon boxes
> Straws.  That is all.  Benz has the time of his life with straws.
> No-bath bath - books and cars in the bath - this one could be epic
> "Bowling" with bottles of water - think this could be doable with a little little with some modeling (#teacher)
> Pots and pans and spoons - we do this about every other week.  It's loud and pretty ridiculous, but entertaining as well
> "Painting" bath - squirt of soap/shampoo, spoonful of cornstarch and a drop of food coloring - this will, no doubt, be awesome
> Dance party - Benny's dance moves consist of bending his knees and moving like a robot...classic.

So that's that.  Our little one has been boycotting naps all week, so these ideas come at just the right time. I'm a horrible "player with littles," so some structured ideas are helpful for me.  Perhaps you will receive some inspiration as well. And some camaraderie knowing that maybe, just maybe, you're not the only one trying to figure out how to fill your time with your tiny human who can't quite carry on a conversation.  Bring on tomorrow!

Hi, first-year teacher!

About this time every year I get all nostalgic.  Maybe it's the rainbow of colors out my window due to the leaves changing.  Maybe it's the cooler temperatures reminding me it won't be hot and humid and nasty forever.  But probably it's because I remember how I felt about this time 5 years ago when I had just finished my first quarter of my first year of teaching. I read this article last week and felt prompted to give my two cents to first-year teachers.  So whether you are a first-year teacher knee-deep neck-deep in all things school or you are a veteran teacher feeling like you're on the verge of becoming cynical and crotchety, my hope is that you feel encouraged after reading this.

I can split my first year of teaching into 4 distinct time frames:
1st quarter: You guys, I literally had no idea what was going on.  Ever.  I arrived at work by 6:45 every morning and stayed until at least 5 or 5:30, but looking back, I have no clue how I was even spending my time.  I rested Friday night and Saturday, but after lunch on Sunday, the rest of my day was spent doing school stuff (oh, and crying...always lots of crying).  My stellar mentor teacher shared her entire drive of files with me just to give me a head start and I had a kind freshman teacher who gave me her weekly plans every single week since I DIDN'T HAVE A CLUE how to lesson plan.  It's like I hadn't just spent five years (yes, 5) preparing to be a teacher. I pulled my hair in front of the students, cried most days on my way home, and regularly asked my worst class dumb questions like, "Kids, what am I doing wrong? Why are you treating me this way?"  It was rough.

2nd quarter:  I was well into my third or fourth unit with both my classes, so I was beginning to develop a rhythm.  A friend and I started taking a yoga class twice a week which enabled me to not only leave before the sun set every day, but also provided me a time to literally just breathe.  Oh, I should also mention, I still didn't like what I was doing, ha. Nope, not at all.  I dreaded going to work every day and prayed all through December that we would get a snow day (spoiler alert - didn't happen).

(Not feeling encouraged? It gets better, promise).

3rd quarter:  While I still didn't enjoy going to work, I at least was beginning to feel a bit more confident.  I didn't have a 6th hour from hell any longer and the regularity of colleagues asking for my hall pass had slowed down (I teach at a large school, so being confused for a student was a common occurrence).  We had 5 snow days this quarter (of course I would remember that...I was praying for 25 snow days).

4th quarter: At this point, summer was within reach and all I had to do was knuckle down and make it.  I didn't yell at my students near as much (because, let's face it, when is that ever effective?!). I definitely found a rhythm to my everyday.  But mostly, I knew that I only had to survive a few more months before a clean slate.

Phew, you made it.  Looking back, I can laugh about it, but, I see you, first-teacher teacher, crying every day.  And I get that it's not funny, yet.

I can honestly say that I love my job now.  I really do.  But I could not have said that during my first four years.

After two years in the general English classroom, I decided, for a myriad of reasons, that gen ed English was not my happy place.  Not by a long-shot.  I wasn't ready to throw in the education towel, so I hopped over to special education.  And that, my friends, still wasn't my happy place for two years.  It was better, but not "I LOVE MY JOB. EVERYONE QUIT WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND JOIN ME" awesome. It was just fine for two years.

Let's talk about what shifted.

I had a baby and I TOOK A CHILL PILL (figuratively and literally, but we don't need to talk about the literally, ha - check out this post to understand why).

Now, this isn't me saying, "Go have a baby; it'll fix everything!"  Stop that. Don't be silly.  It won't fix everything.

Friends, it's all about perspective.

What is the hardest part about your job right now?  My answer to that question early on was that I was overwhelmed with such large classes and I felt like I wasn't meeting individual needs.  When I switched to special education, my answer was that I was bored.  I fixed that by changing how I taught.  It helped immensely to have a new curriculum handed to us - nothing boring about teaching something brand new every day!

So, sweet first-year teacher - what IS the hardest part about your job? Answer that question and then try to fix it.  Now, impressionable friend, do not, I repeat, DO NOT go down the rabbit-trail of "well if the administration would just do this" or "if my students were just different" or "if I didn't have to teach this."  Yada, yada.  There are a million things we don't have control of (that has nothing to do with teaching, but has everything to do with LIFE).  We can't fix a bazillion of our issues, but we can control ourselves.

You probably have lots of things bothering you as a first-year teacher (and that's okay!).  Be bothered - it's what makes you passionate!  But don't be bothered to the point that you burn out.  Ask for stinkin help.  You surely have a colleague down the hall a call or email away from handing you everything you could possibly need to plan the next quarter's worth of lessons.  Just ask.  We're teachers.  We love teaching. :)

This is getting all mumbly jumbly.  Gah, I just love you so much and think you're awesome and don't want you to quit just because you don't have it all figured out.  I'm six years in and I still have days I don't know what I'm going (I'm guessing teachers who have taught for much longer would say the same). We just have more teaching tools in our toolbox.  I guarantee you're adding to your toolbox every single day.  And the first day you get the chance to pull from that toolbox in a spur of the moment lesson will be the best day ever.  Because it will mean you're gonna make it.

Fight through this first year.  Every day might be a struggle, but you'll make it.  And you'll come out even stronger.  And no matter how much you think you're jacking up these kids, just remember: kids are crazy resilient.  They'll come out fine.  I promise it's going to be okay.

PS - if you seriously are struggling with the ins and outs of every day, please reach out to me if you don't feel like you have anyone.  I have a crap-ton of resources that can be modified to whatever level you kids are.  I got your back, friend.

An Update, of Sorts

Jobs are funny, aren't they?  I mean, we need them to financially take care of our people.  And, let's face it, we need them to give us something to do...whether IN or OUT of the home.  In a perfect world, we would all have a job we love that enables us to be financially set AND personally satisfied.  The trouble is that our world isn't perfect.

Almost a year ago I went back to work after an exhausting maternity leave.  I was ready to return to work only because I needed consistency.  I thrive in routine.  Being at home all day every day with a newborn whose strength was not daytime napping had taken its toll on me.  I needed a good ol' dose of 7 class periods with a bell every 47 minutes informing me to move to the next class.  Ahhh, bliss.  You think I joke.  I don't.  Consistency and cookies are my favorite.  I love them equally.  And I love me some cookies.

So back to school I went.  With my handy-dandy breast pump.

About 6 weeks after my return, I was so exhausted from the daily duties that go along with teaching full-time and wifing full-time and mommying full-time.  I was spent.  So Daniel and I did some number-crunching and we realized that we could make some personal budget cuts and I could look for something part-time.  My first and last stop in my job search was to talk to my principal (my supervisor).  I was doubtful that what I would ask for would work, but I knew I would never know unless I asked.

I spelled it out to him: I'm tired. I'm sucking at life at home and I'm sucking at life at school.  I want to keep teaching but I also want to be at home with my sweet Bennett.  I want to work mornings and be a part-time employee.

And you know what?  After months of conversations, he was able to grant my request.  This year my contract is from 7:30-11:30 Monday through Friday (I teach high school special education).  And it's so dreamy.

More than any other time in my life, I feel like I'm doing exactly what I need to be doing.  I love my "get paid" job.  I love high schoolers.  Goodness, they are special people.  And I love spending half my day with them.  And I adore my "don't get paid" job.  Toddler Bennett is a special little boy, and I'm thrilled and honored to spend the better part of my day with him.

Some of you are able to work full-time and still love your life.  I was not.  At least not in this season of my life.  Our phenomenal babysitter would send us pictures of Bennett at the zoo, Bennett at a playground, Bennett on a walk.  And while one part of my heart would rejoice that he was being taken care of so well, the other part would break that someone else was getting to see him experience all the fun things that go with being a kid. (Side note: I am forever grateful for our sitter and the love she gave our B.  I just wanted to give him daytime love, too!)

To full-time working mommas:  I get you.  You are a rock-star.  You're doing the best thing for your family.  Be sure to give yourself lots of grace.

To part-time working mommas: I get you.  You are the bees knees.  You're doing the best thing for your family.  Work hard when you work so when you're at home, you can be at home.

To stay-at-home mommas: I get you (I was at home all summer with my boy).  Your job might not pay, but it is seriously tough stuff.  Do a baby-sitting swap with a friend.  You won't regret it.

What's the point of me telling you this?

Talk to your people and figure out what would be best for your family.

And then ask for it.  You never know unless you ask.  

Time is short.  Time is precious.  Figure out how you want to spend it.  And then do it.  

Freezer Meal Swapz

About a month ago Bennett and I went on a walk.  We go on a walk nearly every day (except for several of the hotter than hell days as of late).  The Benny LOVES being outside.  It's totally his jam.  When he was a wee screaming babe, being outside was one of the few things that calmed him down. So we would spend HOURS on our porch swing.  Hours.  And then my butt would fall asleep so I would have to choose between a numb bum and a screaming infant.  My rear still hasn't recovered.

I digress.

On this particular walk a few weeks ago, I was reminded that I would be heading back to work soon and that my freezer was currently empty.  I had a minor panic attack thinking, "How am I going to feed my boys when I come home from work exhausted every day?"  My mom and mother-in-law and step mother-in-law came to the rescue last year and filled my freezer to the brim, but this year I figure it should be my responsibility (still so thankful for the meals, mom, Carri, and Joy!).

After panicking for a bit, I pulled my head out of the sand and began brainstorming.  Walking is my think time and Lord knows I need it.  Benz is in his happy place waving at every squirrel that runs by and I'm in my happy place processing life.  It's the good stuff.

I won't give you too much of a glimpse into my brain because it would probably stress you out (ya'll, it's crazy in there), so I'll just cut to the chase (yeah right, like I ever do #amiright).

What I came up with was a freezer meal swap.  I threw the idea out there on the Faceboxes (mildly terrified that no one would think it was a good idea) and I was pleasantly surprised at the response.  So many women are busy and tired and trying to feed their families.  I am not alone.  YOU are not alone.  The response was so overwhelming (in a beautiful way) that I eventually had to cut it off at 20 (sorry to those who couldn't participate this round!).

It was one of those moments when I realized that this better work.  Or else literally dozens of people will be irritated and, worst of all, hungry and without go-to meals in their freezers.

The wheels started turning in my brain and what follows is how I organized it.  Readers, I'm posting this because I want you to do it.  I've fielded at least a dozen emails/messages from friends from all seasons of life and they all want to do this.  SO DO IT. :)  I can answer all your questions.  It's my favorite thing to do. If the size that we did it seems overwhelmingly large to you, then just do it with a few people.

Okay, ready for the nitty-gritty?  Let's go.

• I made a Facebook event (it's the easiest thing.  My not young but not old mother can do it.  Love you, mom!).
• I posted the guidelines (what you see here are the tweaked guidelines after I processed more). 
• This is going to be so great, gals!  Please read the following guidelines and by RSVPing yes, you're committing to bringing meals that will be shared with others. :)  
• Choose a recipe that you know is good.  Maybe a family favorite? Once you've decided, comment what you're planning to make...that way we won't end up with a dozen tator tot casseroles.  Believe me, almost everything can be turned into a freezer meal, so don't feel like you're stuck with meatballs and lasagna.  
• Avoid really unique recipes - I'm sure Ethiopian food is delicious, but I'm not certain a freezer meal swap is the best place to introduce it. :)  If you're uncertain about your recipe, feel free to ask! 
• As soon as I know how many gals are participating, I'll let you know how many batches to prepare. One batch needs to be enough to feed a family of 5 - so if you're only feeding 2 people, you'll technically walk away with double the meals!  
• You must use brand-name freezer bags.  Obnoxious, I know.  But believe me, I've tried all the off-brands and they all leak.  So splurge a little for the sake of all the gals getting your food.  If your meal has a large amount of liquid, it would be good to double bag it.  
• Freeze your meal prior to delivering it to Heidi's.  Please FREEZE IT FLAT - this is really important for storage reasons, of course.  
• On the outside of your bag, label your meal as well as instructions for preparing.
• You're only responsible for the main entree - no side dishes.  So if you put together crock-pot fajitas, you don't need to include cheese or tortillas or anything - just the meat/veggie/spice mixture. 
• Bring a cooler or cooler bag to the swap to minimize thawing during transport. 
• It would be extremely challenging to coordinate a dozen people's schedules, so here's what we'll do:   The exchange will begin Thursday, July 30 at 7:30 pm and if you're unable to come by at the actual swap, no worries!  But you must bring your meals prior to the exchange and then contact me to arrange another time for pick-up!
• QUESTIONS?  Holler at me, gurls.
• I invited the 20 women who expressed interest when I posed the initial question.  
• Several women realized they wouldn't actually be able to participate, so the final number ended up being 15 which makes this type-A yahoo so happy because who doesn't love a number divisible by 5?!
• Once the number was finalized, I posed a question to the group:  would you rather be split into two groups (one of 7 and one of 8) and end up with that many meals OR would you rather make 15 meals and end up with 15?  Several ladies opted for the smaller group, but after chatting with them individually they decided they could do 15 (thanks, gals, for being team players!).  I informed the gals that they needed to make 15 of their meal and bring 14 to the swap (keeping one for their family).  
• Over the next few weeks women posted what they would bring and everyone got to work individually.  Some were so on the ball and made their meals immediately (love you, Rachel!) and others waited until the day before.  But it didn't matter when they made them which is one of the beauties of this method.
• Women who wouldn't be able to attend the actual swap began dropping their food off a few days before the swap.
• The night of the swap arrived and this is how I set up my space:

• Only 9 women were able to be at the actual swap, so I assigned several a "buddy" who wouldn't be able to be there.  The women in attendance were responsible for collecting the 15 meals for their buddy but I would then store their meals until pick-up.  I assigned everyone a seat because #typeA.  Don't hate. I provided reusable grocery bags to "collect" the meals in but then the women transferred their meals into their own cooler once they had distributed their contribution. 
• My SIL Tammy suggested that we do the swap "like a preschool Halloween candy exchange."  Preschool moms are the best.  I gave everyone a list of all the meals (see below).

Cook	Meal	Received
Maegan	Beef BBQ biscuits
Andrea	Loaded breakfast burritos
Marcy	Hawaiian BBQ chicken
Julie	Cilantro lime chicken
Tammy	Chicken taquitos
Melissa	Beef enchiladas
Ashley	Baked ziti
Stacy	Beef pasta veggie bake
Lyndsie	Chicken broccoli divan
Heidi	Stuff over fritos
Rachel	Chicken tortilla soup
Andrea	Chicken taco bowls
Tamela	Italian chicken
Grace	Taco soup
Angela	BBQ chicken enchiladas

Then I started with one of the meals that was dropped off.  I passed out one meal to each person.  Then another gal went to her ginormous cooler and passed out one meal to each person.  And it continued times 15.  We kept commenting how it was like Christmas.  But with food.  To feed our families.  From our freezer.  BEST. CHRISTMAS. PRESENT. EVER. #nooffensesanta

I provided gloves for anyone who had chilly hands (you laugh, but YOU try wrangling dozens of frozen meals without gloves...then we'll see who's laughing).  

These pics make it look like chaos, but, I'm telling ya, it was organized chaos!

There ya have it!

There are many pros to doing freezer meals in this fashion, but here are just a few:

• Making 15 of the same meal is so much easier than making 15 different meals (think buying in bulk, assembling individual meals assembly line style, etc.). 
• Freezing flat really is the way to go - so much more storage space.
• Who doesn't want an evening to spend with other ladies!?
• It was a bit of a "worlds collide" night for me as women from work, church, and the community that I know all gathered.  I love times like that.
• It took me 2 1/2 hours to make my 15 meals whereas when I've down freezer cooking in the past, I literally will spend ALL DAY and end up with 15 meals.  Having a kid has taught me many things including the fact that there is no such thing as efficiency anymore.  That being said, efficiency is the name of my game whenever I have the chance.

By the numbers (because I'm like my dad and I like numbers):

• 15 families walked away with 15 meals.
• 225 meals were brought into my house
• Each meal will feed at least a family of 5.  SO. That means 1,125 individual meals were distributed.  

And just because I'm very introspective and very much a processor of all the things, here's my last food for thought.

Late last year I had a vision of wanting to have 100 different people over for dinner throughout the year.  Well, life happens and I quickly realized it might not be possible.  Initially I was saddened by this thought but then I realized I could just pour more time and energy and resources into other things and not be so upset that I didn't even start to meet the goal I set.

This morning on yet another walk (see above...walks are my "think time") I had a realization.  Though not as I had planned initially and certainly not entirely on my own, but WE fed 1,125 people indirectly from my home.  Life really is better when you do it with others.  Now get to cooking, ladies!  You will definitely not regret this!

Monday Night Dinner

I brainstormed for a good 20 minutes about what this post should be titled.  I had all these fancy-shmancy titles that would make you either be really impressed with my use of the English language or make you want to vomit.  Ergo.  I threw in the towel and called it what it's really about:  Monday Night Dinner.

Back-story.

Five years ago I graduated from Tabor College, Daniel and I got married, and we moved to Topeka.  We intended to be here only two years as I fulfilled a scholarship requirement.  Well, three years after those two years were up, we're still here.  And we're not planning on moving anywhere else anytime soon.

More back-story.

When I started applying for jobs as a baby teacher, I was really only looking in the Kansas City and Wichita areas.  The year I was looking, it was so hard for teachers to find jobs because many districts were in hiring freezes.  Topeka was NOT where I wanted to be, but it was the only place that called me back in a timely manner.  When the offer was given to me in March of 2010, I quickly said yes and Daniel began looking for jobs in the area.  He found a job commuting to Lawrence we began the process of finding an apartment and moving our things to Topeka.

Even more back-story.

One of Daniel's sisters and her family lived in San Diego at this time.  We had been out to visit them several times and always had a jolly-good time with them.  They had lived in Topeka for several years before Brett's company transferred him to San Diego.  Desiring to return to Kansas to be closer to family, his company finally moved them back to Topeka.

We all literally moved to Topeka within one week of each other.  I can't make this stuff up.

Quick recap:
I didn't want to live in Topeka.  We moved to Topeka in June of 2010.
Brett and Tammy had wanted to move back for years.  They returned in June of 2010.

So it's June 2010.  We all live in Topeka now.  Daniel and I don't have cable at our apartment but Brett and Tammy do.  It's Monday night.  The Bachelor is on.  I bet you see where this is going.  We decide that we should probably gather at B&T's apartment to watch.  Well, I use "we" loosely.  I can't remember what the guys did, but I'm pretty positive their desire to watch did not match ours.

That's how it all began.  The Bachelor started at 7, so we decided it would only make sense to eat dinner together before the watching commenced.

Fast forward five years, we have our Monday Night Dinners down to a science.

We take turns hosting.  We gather around 6.  When it's your turn to host, you do everything.  Plan the meal, prepare the meal, host the meal, and clean up the meal.  Occasionally one of us has something extra to bring (Tammy is hosting this week's MND but I happen to have some dessert to contribute), but it's never expected.

So all that's good and fun.  But my real point of this post is to encourage you to be intentional with those you love.  In the five years since we started the ritual of MND, we can count on one hand the number of times we've cancelled.  That's how precious it is to us.  Don't get me wrong, we don't do fancy.  We have eaten leftovers.  We've eaten freezer meals.  And we've ordered pizza.  The point isn't the food (even though we all LOVE us some food).  The point is the community.

Sometimes we have lots to say and joke about needing a list of things to talk about to ensure that we don't miss anything.  Other times we don't have much to say.  Basically, we do life together.  Between the two families, there are four adults (duh) and 5 rambunctious little boys.  Sometimes the boys are the definition of hilarious.  Other times they've had a case of the Mondays.  But guys, it just doesn't matter.  We're spending time together.  And Daniel and I are learning oodles about what it means to be a parent.  You can't put a price on that.

We eat a lot of Mexican.  It just works for our crew.  Most of the time I don't prepare a dessert.  But the boys know where I keep the marshmallows, so that's their treat.  And they're happy even when their treat, which should be soft as a pillow, is hard as a rock.  Memories, people.  We're creating memories.

We laugh together.  A lot.  And we've shed our fair share of tears.  Brett and Tammy walked with us as we fumbled through our early twenties trying to figure out what life after college should look like.  We've walked with them as they've brought three baby boys home from the hospital (including one set of twins!).

Only one of the five boys is old enough to know that we eat together on Mondays, but since this trend will continue as long as we're all in Topeka, I know all of our children will have the fondest of memories from many Monday nights spent in community. 

Take-away:  if there's someone in your geographic area that, when you run into them, you're bound to say something like, "We live so close and we never see each other!" DO something about it.  Mondays are great.  No one likes Mondays, so we've found that having something to look forward to on a Monday makes them not so bad.  Fearful of what your pursuant might say?  Don't worry about it.  Live intentionally.  I promise you'll thank yourself weeks, months, and years from now.

Post-Partum: My Story

Yep, I'm going there.  This is the post I so longed to read when I was neck-deep in post-partum emotions.  I just wanted to relate to SOMEONE.  To know that I wasn't alone.  To feel the camaraderie of other women who had experienced similar emotions and made it to the other side in one piece.  My life has generally been pretty drama-free.  Minimal painful seasons and few traumatic events.  So when baby Bennett was born, I was knocked down hard.  And didn't come up for a breath for 9 weeks and 2 days.

Since September 1 (the day Bennett decided life was going to be okay and the first day I felt like myself again), I've had lots of time to process those early weeks.  And I've come to many conclusions.  I think every woman has at least one part of childbearing that's challenging.  Getting pregnant was easy for me.  Being pregnant was so dreamy (until the last 4 weeks...but no one can honestly say the last 4 weeks are lovely).  Childbirth was even (don't shoot me) easy - I got me some drugz after 7 hours of pain that made me want to bite my fingers off and Bster entered the world 90 minutes later.  My body recovered nicely after he was born and I was feeling great after about a week.

But then. My emotions went berserk.  Nursing was legitimately the hardest thing I have ever done.  Harder than being the new kid in a class.  Harder than my first year of teaching.  Harder than any marital challenge.  It wasn't painful for me.  It was just hard.  I don't even have the words to describe how challenging it was for me.

People said we would get into a rhythm.  That eventually we would get the hang of it.  So I pressed on.

It's about to get real here.

My whole life I've struggled with not really feeling like I have any real strengths (that's another story for another day).  So I think I was desperate to be able to say, "I nursed my baby.  And I was good at it."  Oh sweet Heidi, I just want to stroke your hair as it falls out after giving life to a human and tell you that IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD IF NURSING DOESN'T WORK.  IT'S JUST NOT.  FORMULA EXISTS FOR A REASON.  USE IT.  IT'S NOT WORTH THE TEARS - FROM BENNETT OR FROM YOU!

In the first few weeks of Bennett's life, I cried all the time.  On my first day home alone with him, I remember sitting on the floor in front of his swing weeping while he slept peacefully.  Because I couldn't believe that I had this perfect little boy to care for.  And because I was terrified that something might happen to him someday and that I wouldn't be able to protect him for forever.  My heart was so heavy with love for this tiny human.  And it was overflowing in a way that I had never felt.

I chalked up my intense emotions to the ridiculous hormonal changes a woman goes through after childbirth.  I told myself it was going to be okay.  That I just needed to make it to 6 weeks and everything should go back to normal.  That I didn't need medication to help me feel like myself again.

When Bennett was 5 weeks old, our family of 3 went to a birthday party and I spent almost the whole time upstairs sobbing and unsuccessfully attempting to nurse my wailing infant.  Daniel had just returned from a week-long business trip and while I had held in my emotions while he was away, the floodgates were bursting and I couldn't make them stop.  I remember texting my bestie in Africa from the floor of that room saying that I was crying and I couldn't stop.  I thought things couldn't get any darker, but they were about to.
Seven weeks after Bennett was born, I asked one of my lifesavers to come over and snuggle B so I could pack for a family vacation to Colorado.  I was packing upstairs and just started crying.  And again, I couldn't stop.  By this point, I was accustomed to daily tears.  And I had tried everything - eating right, exercising, sleeping when baby slept (note to self: don't ever tell a new momma to sleep when baby sleeps...some babies don't sleep), reaching out to my incredible support system, praying every minute of every day.  And nothing was working.

I remember walking downstairs to my sweet sister and, through tears, saying, "I think something's wrong with me."  She ever so gently encouraged me to call my doctor.  So I did.  And left a message on the answering machine.  I was bawling as I left my message (which actually turned out to be great - the nurse called me back minutes later).   At my appointment the next day, I recounted the last few weeks and without even missing a beat, the doctor suggested that I might need some medication.  And I immediately took her up on her offer.

Prior to this moment, had anyone suggested taking medication for my emotions, I would have responded with any of the following:
I don't take medicine.
I don't need it.
I can handle this.
It will be okay.

Oh sweet new momma Heidi, there is so much you don't know.

About 10 days after beginning my meds, I was still a hot mess.  We had just returned from Colorado and Bennett hadn't gained any weight in a week.  Our pediatrician wanted to refer him to Children's Mercy in Kansas City to do some tests in an attempt to figure out what the problem was.  I sobbed uncontrollably after hanging up the phone with the nurse.  I remember taking Bennett upstairs and rocking him while I did the ugly cry and held him so close completely afraid that he would be taken from me.

Another one of my lifesavers came to visit two days later.  And I cried all day.  She watched as I tried, again unsuccessfully, to nurse my extremely fussy baby.  She loved on me.  She brought me food and encouraged me with all she had.  And I finally said out loud what I had been thinking for weeks:  I feel like I have lost my joy.  I'm not myself right now.  I'm at the end of my rope and at the bottom of a pit and like there is no way out.  Life is incredibly dark right now and I don't know what to do except cry.

The next day was a good day.  Bennett ate well and I thought we had turned a corner.

Then Sunday hit.  And Bennett, again, cried all day.  I skyped with my African bestie and sobbed while I told her I didn't know what to do.  That this is not what I had envisioned.  That the two things I was most afraid of pre-baby were post-partum depression and a fussy baby.  And I had both.

 From the rocker in the nursery, I texted a dozen of my praying friends and pleaded for them to intercede on my behalf.   My faithful brother called me immediately and gave me every encouraging word he had.  My in-town sister dropped what she was doing and came over to hold my sweet, fussy baby.  And daddyDan, again, made me laugh.  It was at this point that Daniel and I decided to change how Bennett ate.  We decided to try the bottle instead of nursing.  I knowwwwwwwwwww.  Why didn't we do that before?!  Because I'm stubborn.  Because I wanted to succeed at something.  Because I wanted to be what my baby needed.  And because I was so tired and so emotional and so unable to make rational decisions.

The next day, September 1, was the best day of 2014.  It was the day I decided that Bennett's well-being was more important than my stubbornness.  It was the day I finally realized that at Bennett's one-year birthday party, I'd rather be able to say, "My baby eats formula and is happy" than "I nursed him for a whole year and it was AWFUL."  I physically became a mom on June 27, but I think September 1 is the day I emotionally became a mom.  Bennett's needs trumped my stubbornness.

Bennett was a hard baby. For me.  I'm sure other moms would look at the first 9 weeks of his life and say that he wasn't anything compared to their challenging babes.  And that's okay.  Having a baby knocked me off my feet in the most intense way.  It made me rely on people more than I ever had before.  And I am so thankful for that.

Ladies who are pregnant, don't read this and be afraid.  Know that it will be hard.  (For some gals it isn't though!)  Don't hesitate to ask for help - whether that help is from your friends, family, or doctor.  As one of my colleagues told me, sometimes the only mantra worth repeating is: survive and advance.  And remember, it's going to be okay.

First-time mommas who are in the trenches of life with a newborn, know that you are so precious.  Ask people to bring you food (I asked my mom to make me a handful of freezer meals and she showed up a week later with 15 meals.  The best gift ever.).  Invest in a nice stroller if you don't have one.  The mall is a great place to walk when it's cold.

I feel like I should end this post with a shout-out to my ridiculous support system, but the list of people who loved on me is far too long.  Just know this, my gracious lifesavers, you mean more to me than could ever know.  Your prayers and words of encouragement got me through the darkest time of my life.  You rode the waves with me and for that I am eternally grateful.

I'm back to being myself, but an even better version, I think.  I love my life and I adore my little family.  Bennett brings Daniel and I joy every single day and I couldn't imagine life without him.  I'm still tired, and I hear that won't change any time soon, but I'm okay with that.  I'm still very type-A and still quite stubborn, but I'm slowly learning how to chill out.  And I love it.  God is unbelievably faithful in all things.  Jesus is my rock and I will forever cling to Him.

I'm an open-book, friends.  Don't hesitate to ask questions if you have them.  Ladies, if you are feeling any emotions related to post-partum, please reach out to me or to someone you trust.  I've totally got your back, girl.