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.

BDC Week 10: AKA Figuring Out All Things Bennett D

OH. MY. WORD.

So we have this tiny human who lives in our house now. He weighs 12 pounds 11.6 ounces.  And he is over 25 inches long (holla tall people!).  And he has given us a run for our money for 9 weeks.  But, friends, finally (I know, 9 weeks doesn't seem long, but, friends, 9 weeks with our troubled babe was long), we have started to figure out our long, skinny friend.

This post is dedicated to anyone who has said a prayer for us over the last 9 weeks.  You know who you are.  The ones who received an SOS text from yours truly.  The ones who received emails, texts, and calls from my mom eliciting prayers.  The ones who listened to me bawl over the phone or skype (you know exactly who you are).  And the ones who prayed every day and hoped with us that we would eventually figure something out.

Thank you.  Your prayers made the mountains we were trying to cross with little B turn into molehills.  Your prayers gave me peace when I was literally about to lose my mind.  And your prayers comforted me during countless challenging feedings.

So here's what works for our slender bundle of happiness:

• I nurse only at night - middle of the night once and first feeding of the day
• Bster takes a bottle of breastmilk every other feeding
• We still give Benji-pants 3 doses of Zantac every day

And here are factors that made this all come to be:

• We think the B-man has some reflux - we tried different nursing positions, gripe water (even the Canadian stuff - thanks, Sarah!!), gas drops, and finally Zantac
• I was highly stressed when his feeding started to go downhill - this resulted in a drop in my supply which meant that my babe was likely not getting as much as he needed for a few weeks.  The stress turned into anxiety which became so awful that I went to see my doctor (more about this in another post when I'm a bit more removed from it all). 
• Benny-boo-bear is slightly collicky.  Apparently some collicky babies are comforted by nursing...not our BBB
• Daytime feedings got so rotten that he was sometimes going 6 hours during the day without eating.  And during these 6 hours, we would pace with him, sit on our porch swing, try  (often unsuccessfully) to get him to fall asleep, and do The Happiest Baby on the Block so many times it wasn't even comical.

So we said, screw it all, we're trying the bottle.  And, what do you know, he took it like a champ.  On Monday DaddyDan questioned who switched our baby in the night.  He really is like a brand new baby and all three of us are ridiculously thankful.  We recognize we may not be out of the woods yet.  BUT we finally feel like we've had enough victories to get us through.  

Our baby is healthy.

Our baby is growing.

And our baby is finally happy.

Serious PTL.

BDC Week 3

The last 2 1/2 weeks have been challenging, exhausting, and overwhelming, but also joyful, sweet, and extremely fulfilling.  This pendulum of emotions is exhausting in itself.  So I'm cherishing the here and now in an attempt to remind myself that he's only a newborn once.

Bennett will not always be this needy.  I need to cherish the fact that what he needs most right now are his parents.  We are his sustenance and security. 

His tiny bottom won't always fit in the palm of my hand.  His most comfortable place for napping won't always be on my chest.  He won't always be able to be calmed by being swaddled, shushed, and rocked (please picture someone rocking a teenage boy...doesn't happen, right?).  I know I'll blink and we'll be sending him off to college (#peckemjays). 

He won't always be calmed by the rhythmic squeak of the porch swing or momma singing "Victory in Jesus" over and over (currently his favorite tune). 

He won't always wake in the night needing momma.  And he won't always have kick-stand arms when I unswaddle him.

His hair won't always be this greasy due to momma and daddy constantly stroking it. Something tells  me tween Bennett won't really want his parents always touching his hair.

Baby Bennett won't always receive so much attention from momma and daddy.  Someday he'll be a big brother and he'll have to share his two favorite people.  But for now, he's an only child and we're eating up that fact.  

Even though the last two weeks have felt a bit like an eternity due to lack of sleep and general fussiness (on behalf of both baby and momma), this time is truly precious.  Bennett D is not perfect.  No baby is. But he's our Bennett D.  And we, as they say, love him to the moon and back.