Show Your Real: Casey

I met Casey at The Influence Conference, (which she just so happened to be co-hosting...you know, no big deal) and was struck by how different she was than the typical blogger. She definitely has a strategic side, she's not Internet-famous for nothing! But more than that, she has the most sensitive, deep spirit that longs to share her story while being desperate to hear yours. She finds meaning and significance in things many people (myself included) pass by. I'm inspired by how fully she loves her children and invests in her family. And I'm so grateful she's willing to share in this space today. 

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How does the idea of "Show Your Real" resonate with you..why did you want to participate and share?
It resonates really well with me. I tend to process a lot of raw emotion all the time and writing it and sharing it for me is a really good outlet. Sometimes I am unable to say these same feelings and thoughts out loud but when I sit down to write, they often just pour out :). I think it really helps to show the real. Because we all feel a little less alone to know that others have been there or are there now.

What misconceptions might people have about about your life at first glance?
I think with ANYONE on the internet it is really easy to forget that we are just putting out snippets of our lives... often people think this is the whole picture and that just isn't the case at all. I think it's easy to make assumptions about people on  the internet, it's easy to think that you know someone when really often times just a few pieces of the puzzle. 

What are some of your patterns and routines for a “typical” day?
I am sort of anti.schedule / anti routine! We wake up,  many days hit the park or the pool, eat dinner as a family, play, bath/prayers/bedtimes, then I start working when the kiddos are down!

What does the balance/mix of work/chores/family time/rest/etc look like in your home?
I only work when the kids are asleep and I try to incorporate the kids in chores or household jobs. My husband works from home so if he is fixing something or building something, he has the two older kids out there with him helping every step of the way. Same with me...they love to help with dinner and if we need to cleanup the playroom, we will make a fun game out of it! 

What things have become “your real” now that the you from the past would be surprised about?
I used to love things really really clean. (I mean I still do deep down in my heart) but with three little kids, two dogs, a pet lizard and a pet bunny....I let it go :).

What are the hardest parts of your current season of life? And the best parts?
The hard part for us is that Chris & I are both freelance and so we literally month to month just trust that we will bring in enough jobs & income to cover everything...there are moments that is incredible overwhelming. I experienced faith in a really different and amazing way- having to rely on Him like that month after month. The best parts I would say are just this sweet fun season of raising little ones- we are having the time of our life! 

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Show Your Real is a bi-weekly series of guest posts centered around the concept of authenticity. The goal is to encourage each other to expose the reality of our lives- good and bad- and to foster a sense of community that goes beyond the often suface-cy interactions of social media. We invite all of you to participate! Please comment, link, and hashtag to spread the showyourreal love. If you would like to contribute a guest post in this series, please email me! 

I get so emotional, baby.

Last Sunday I posted this on facebook:  

Things I've cried about in the last few days:

• Father's Day cards
• Being tired
• Songs at church
• Seeing my friends
• Being so tired
• Feeling guilty for feeling sick
• Missing a friend
• Being oh so tired
• Overwhelming thankfulness

I knew I was emotional from being pregnant, but in hindsight, I realize it may have ramped up a little bit since I ended up having a baby that night. I don't generally consider myself a super sensitive person, but in the last few years, I've become much more emotional. I've always "felt big"- meaning I get VERY excited, and VERY disappointed, but I wasn't typically prone to tears. I was always pretty matter-of-fact, which kept me from getting too weepy over much.

But then. I became a mom. And my slow metamorphosis into a more sensitive soul was kicked into overdrive. I'm now that girl, who will cry over baby lotion commercials, and news stories about strangers. It turns out I'm also one of those cry-ers, that when I get started, I can't stop. It's like my body has a certain amount of tears it needs to shed, and given enough of an excuse (which may be pretty much anything things days...) it's going to let them flow.

I don't want to give the wrong impression: I'm definitely not a constantly-teetering-on-the-edge-basket-case...

Wait....unless it's under 6 weeks postpartum.

Then I am pretty much a constantly-teetering-on-the-edge-basket-case.

Not in a scary, don't risk talking to the ticking-tear-time-bomb kind of way. Just in a, wow she's extra weepy kind of way. Most of the time I laugh as much as I cry, because I realize whatever made me cry in the first place was probably pretty silly. I'll often warn you- I'm going to cry now!- and keep barreling through the conversation as if it's not happening. (because if we wait for it to pass...we might be waiting a while). Dustin will put his hand on mine, and I'll roll my eyes at my crazy hormones.

Sometimes though...it's legitimate. There's a lot of change going on right now (emotionally, physically, logistically, mentally...all the other "ally"s....) and sometimes it's all a bit much to bear (good, or bad). And so:

Things I've cried about this week:

• Being afraid. 
• Being in pain. 
• Being so tired. 
• Overwhelming responsibility. 
• Songs at church. 
• Overreacting to Dustin's tone of voice.
• Seeing my friends. 
• Overwhelming feeling of being overwhelmed.
• Missing our old life. 
• Overwhelming thankfulness.  

And probably ten other things I'm forgetting about. This is a crazy time. A difficult time. And a lovely time. And I've got enough tears for all occasions.

So if you happen to see me in the next month or so, don't be alarmed if you ask me a question (like: how are you? what did you have for lunch? or what is up with that Brazilian guy on The Bachelorette?) and I start bawling. It means I care. (And I just might be a wee bit crazy. Temporarily of course.)

Welcome Finley

You'll have to excuse the calm around Bowdenisms this past week...
Because things have actually been quite busy for the Bowdens.

We went from this...

 

Sunday 6/16, 6:39pm

To this...

Sunday 6/16, 10:23pm

To this...

  Tuesday 6/18, 11:10 am

...rather quickly.

Finley Joann Bowden came rushing into the world on Sunday night (she decided to come 10 days early, and wasted no time getting here) and our lives have been pretty much a whirlwind since then.

A whirlwind of good. 

   

Welcome, sweet girl.

Finley Joann Bowden

Born June 16, 2013

10:23 pm 

8lbs 6oz

20" long

Snippets

There are times when I so want to write. I have a head filled with thoughts, and stories, and memories that I'm desperate to put down on paper. I want to share...I don't want to forget the tiny moments of our current life.

But in some of those same times, I just can't write. I don't have the time. Or the energy. Or the words. Like there's so much to say, and so much to record that I don't know where to begin.

I want to stop time and snuggle Piper up with my words- locking in this exact moment so I remember it forever....Especially before everything changes. I want a verbal snapshot of every second so I can go back to it 50 years from now and remember it like it was yesterday...because I know it will feel like it was.

But I don't have the words to do that today. But I do have these.....actual snapshots. Of the teeniest snippets of our lives. Teeny snippets that are actually everything.

Happy Weekend!

Show Your Real: Meg

Meg. 

Meg is the girl you want to be your best friend. 

And somehow I got her as mine. 


She is the other half of me...not in the "we complete each other" kind of way, but in the "we're cut from the same cloth" kind of way. She's a loud, passionate, equal-parts-dreamer-and-doer force of a woman. She gets herself into gigantic messes, but always comes out the other side with a smile and a story. She "feels big" and doesn't apologize for it. She is the life of the party, but at the same time she is a true, thoughtful and deep soul. A friend, of the best and purest kind.

I am blessed to call her my friend, and I'm honored to have you get to know her better today.

{Meg's writes as part of a team at Pure and Simple, a truly fantastic site that you need to know about, if you don't already. Seriously...go to there. I'll be here when you get back.} 

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I entered college with the faint knowledge that I would one day have to come out the other side. I was excited about the transition into this next (and potentially last) phase of my school days - more focused on my next few steps instead of a giant leap four years in the future. I had always been a good student and avid extracurricular participant. I had high ideals about 'what I could be when I grew up,' paired with a strong naivete about the road between here and there.

I loved college and I took advantage of what college should (in my starry eyes) really be for. I got a solid liberal arts degree, read lots of classic literature, and most importantly was taught how to think. I took classes that shaped the way I saw the world and my part in it. I pursued opportunities and causes I was passionate about, without too much thought to what might build my resume.

Fast forward to present day. I'm a full-fledged adult: Married, living on my own, fully capable of doing my own laundry. Grown-up life - complete with grown-up job.

My career thus far has been a journey - seasons of highs and lows, chock-full of character-boosting lessons, gift-defining moments and new passions and pursuits. And since I'm being real - the journey is often accompanied by the (unfortunate) mindset that what I do determines who I am.

I'm not sure when this weasel of a thought crept into my life, but it has certainly dug itself a comfortable home. Being good at my job is like any other thing in my life - I have a tendency to give it more importance than it should actually have. It's all too easy in moments of professional success (or failure) to equate being good at my job to being a good human being. And while I do believe that calling and work are a valuable part of my life, I don't believe I should view them as the source of my value.

I read Tim Keller's book, Every Good Endeavor a couple of months ago. On my morning commute I opened to the introduction and promptly began to cry. He recounts an old story by J.R. Tolkein about an artist named Niggle. Not surprisingly, Keller is able to convey this story much better than I could:

"[Niggle] was a perfectionist, always unhappy with what he had produced, often distracted from more important issues by fussing over less important details, prone to worry and procrastination...Niggle had one picture in particular that he was trying to paint. He had gotten in his mind the picture of a leaf, and then that of a whole tree. And then in his imagination, behind the tree “a country began to open out; and there were glimpses of a forest marching over the land, and of mountains tipped with snow.” Niggle lost interest in all his other pictures, and in order to accommodate his vision, he laid out a canvas so large he needed a ladder. Niggle knew he had to die, but he told himself, “At any rate, I shall get this one picture done, my real picture, before I have to go on that wretched journey.”

So he worked on his canvas, “putting in a touch here, and rubbing out a patch there,” but he never got much done. There were two reasons for this. First, it was because he was the “sort of painter who can paint leaves better than trees. He used to spend a long time on a single leaf, . . .” trying to get the shading and the sheen and the dewdrops on it just right. So no matter how hard he worked, very little actually showed up on the canvas itself. The second reason was his “kind heart.” Niggle was constantly distracted by doing things his neighbors asked him to do for them. In particular, his neighbor Parish, who did not appreciate Niggle’s painting at all, asked him to do many things for him.

One night when Niggle senses, rightly, that his time is almost up, Parish insists that he go out into the wet and cold to fetch a doctor for his sick wife. As a result he comes down with a chill and fever, and while working desperately on his unfinished picture, the Driver comes to take Niggle on the journey he has put off. When he realizes he must go, he bursts into tears. “‘Oh, dear!’ said poor Niggle, beginning to weep, ‘And it’s not even finished!’” Sometime after his death the people who acquired his house noticed that on his crumbling canvas his only “one beautiful leaf” had remained intact. It was put in the Town Museum, “and for a long while ‘Leaf: by Niggle’ hung there in a recess, and was noticed by a few eyes.”

But the story does not end there. After death Niggle is put on a train toward the mountains of the heavenly afterlife. At one point on his trip he hears two Voices. One seems to be Justice, the severe voice, which says that Niggle wasted so much time and accomplished so little in life. But the other, gentler voice (“though it was not soft”), which seems to be Mercy, counters that Niggle has chosen to sacrifice for others, knowing what he was doing. As a reward, when Niggle gets to the outskirts of the heavenly country, something catches his eye. He runs to it—and there it is: “Before him stood the Tree, his Tree, finished; its leaves opening, its branches growing and bending in the wind that Niggle had so often felt or guessed, and yet had so often failed to catch. He gazed at the Tree, and slowly he lifted his arms and opened them wide. ‘It is a gift!’ he said. The world before death—his old country—had forgotten Niggle almost completely, and there his work had ended unfinished and helpful to only a very few. But in his new country, the permanently real world, he finds that his tree, in full detail and finished, was not just a fancy of his that had died with him. No, it was indeed part of the True Reality that would live and be enjoyed forever."

To be real - this post is hard to sum up, because this is not an area I have all figured out. I am encouraged by Tolkien's story and I know (despite all my striving) that what he expresses is real: our work - our gifts and all that we do with them - has been given to us with purpose. Our efforts will be unfinished, but He has already accomplished all that we need. At this season in my life, this is truth that I need to hear every day.

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Show Your Real is a bi-weekly series of guest posts centered around the concept of authenticity. The goal is to encourage each other to expose the reality of our lives- good and bad- and to foster a sense of community that goes beyond the often suface-cy interactions of social media. We invite all of you to participate! Please comment, link, and hashtag to spread the showyourreal love. If you would like to contribute a guest post in this series, please email me! 

Pregnancy: Round 2 {37 week edition}

We're getting close....sooooooo close.....At this point, the baby could arrive any minute. Orrrrrrrrrrr, three weeks from now. So while we wait: how 'bout a third trimester update?!

 {28 weeks}

symptoms: 

First time: Constant heartburn. Aches and pains- mostly in my back- especially after sitting or laying down for a while. And sleeping was a little tough. Lots of getting up a lot during the night, and I sometimes had trouble falling asleep in the first place. 

This time: Constant heartburn. Aches and pains. Trouble sleeping. Turns out maybe this time is similar to the last time after all- it just all seems magnified! Either pregnancy is harder the second time (a year or so older, with a toddler to wrangle) or I'm becoming a big baby. Perhaps both. I've struggled this time with my back being sore. There were times when my sciatic nerve seemed pinched, and I could barely find a comfortable position. I had my heating pad out constantly, and there were days when all I could do after work was crawl into bed (bending down to help with bathtime, picking Piper up, or even helping pick up her toys became an impossibility). I worried around the 32 week mark that I would be miserable forever, and felt like such a drain on Dustin. But thankfully things turned around (again, pregnancy is a series of ebbs and flows...I'm still learning) and I found myself in less pain, with more mobility again. I'm not saying it's all rosy now- I'm still exhausted much of the time, and can't go-go-go like I used to, but at 9+ months pregnant, I suppose that's to be expected. (Oh, and I get some sympathy points for having a Summer baby this time around, right? Our A/C was broken in the office for a few weeks, and it was breaking the 85 degree mark inside. That's too hot for anyone, but especially someone carrying another someone in their belly.)

  {29 weeks}

weight gain:
First time: 22 ish lbs. I was strangely proud of my textbook weight gain, (though I’m really not sure I had any control over it.) I was so worried that I’d balloon up to twice my size, so I was really thankful that my weight stayed reasonable.

This time: 33lbs. Ok...I don't love that number...but I'm giving myself a bit of a pass, because I started this pregnancy about ten pounds lighter (a year of nursing really takes it out of you...or me, at least!) So I weigh almost the exact same amount that I did last time around. It seems that my body has a magic memory of what it needs (or at least- wants) to do. I'm measuring about the same too. Which I guess is comforting, because it's familiar territory, but it does make me worried that I'm carrying another mammoth baby. No thank you!

cravings/aversions: 
First time: Frozen coke? Grilled cheese?…still nothing out of the ordinary. I like what I like.

This time: More of the same! I can't think of anything specific I've been dying for, or avoiding. (I mean, I'm craving sleep, smoothies, backrubs and pedicures...but I don't think those count.)

  {31 weeks}

movement: 
First time: Piper was constantly wiggling. I was actually embarrassed sometimes, because she moved so much I thought people around me were going to think I ate a gremlin. And in addition to all of her antics, she just seemed to be so big. At the time, I couldn't imagine that she was going to get even bigger over the next few weeks…(OH, but she did.)

This time: We've got another wild one. I'm told it's good that the baby is so active, and for the most part it's fine with me. I love feeling and watching her crazy squirming. It makes me laugh, and reminds me of how crazy it is to be housing another actual human inside of me. (For real...it's a little mind blowing when you stop to really think about it, right?)

  {32 weeks}

I am loving:
First time: Baby showers! It was so fun to hang out with so many of our friends and family and celebrate the biggest news of our lives. 

This time: Hmmmm. Hate to be a downer, but I can't think of much I'm "loving" about pregnancy over the last month or so. It's not that I'm hating it (ok. Sometimes I come close) but the perks of being big, and sore, and tired, are few and far between. I do like this season in an abstract way- preparing for change, dreaming of the future, nesting...that's all great. But sometimes the literal parts of being pregnant get in the way of the fun. I'm trying to take advantage of these last few newborn-less weeks, knowing it's about to get even harder in a lot of ways

I miss: 
First time: Alcohol. I never really drank all that much before, but the occasional beer, or celebratory glass of champagne started to sound better and better. I couldn't wait to indulge in a smorgasbord of non-pregnancy-friendly foods and drinks after the baby arrived. I joked about having an “I’m not pregnant!” party, with all my favorite previously-banned foods, and various dangerous activities (i.e. roller skating) wasn't allowed to partake in for the last nine months.

This time: Sleeping through the night. Dancing (other than in my car where no one can really see me.) Climbing a flight or two of stairs without being winded. Clothes that fit. Tying my own shoes. Walking- not waddling. Taking ibuprofen, and allergy pills without concern. Oh, and yes, alcohol. Beer and I are going to have quite the reunion in a few weeks. Come July, if you need me, I'll be hopped up on Claritin, wearing a shirt that covers my waistband, dancing out on the deck with a Blue Moon in my hand (and a baby in my arms). Magical.

   {33 weeks}

 
spazzing about:
First time: I worried about leaving work for such an extended period of time. I find a lot of my identity in the work that I do, and though I knew the time would fly by, it was still a little tough for me to check out, and leave all my duties with others.

This time: Actually having a baby. Having two kids. Staying home (even temporarily) with those kids. And I don't use the word "spazzing" loosely here. I have some serious fears this time around. There have been a couple times over the last couple months that it's hit me like a tidal wave of fear...remembering what the first time was like (the good, the bad and the oh so ugly) and being terrified of doing it again. With Piper, I had an easy enough delivery, a big baby, and a tough recovery. I had mild to moderate baby blues, so the first month was an exercise in survival. I remember not sleeping, feeding every 20 mins (it felt like that anyway) and generally feeling like the first 6-8 weeks were a blur of pain, exhaustion, doubt...and oh yeah- joy. There was joy. Last time I was nervous about the unknown. This time I'm nervous about the known (AND unknown). I'm asked all the time if I'm getting excited or nervous, and the answer is yes. To both. I'm excited because I know what to expect. But I'm nervous, because I know what to expect (and yet, there is still so much I can't predict!) There is so much good that comes with having a baby, but it's also one of the hardest stages of life, so I'm anxious about my ability to handle it again- this time with another baby at home to still care for. I'm concerned I won't be good enough, or strong enough, or selfless enough; That I won't have enough energy, or enough time or enough patience. I have an idea of what's around the corner, and it's all a little daunting.

 {35 weeks}

looking forward to: 
First time: Snuggling my baby. I had come to the point where I was looking forward to the baby part of all of it, rather than just the next maternity milestone. As my belly got to be the size of a real live infant, and as our house filled up with baby gear, it got easier to imagine that there was going to be a human arriving here soon, and that all the prep work and waiting, would finally have a purpose.

This time: Snuggling my babies. I can't wait to see this new little girl...to hold her in my arms and smell her sweet (probably giant) head. And I really can't wait to see my two little girls together. Piper is such a little mama, taking care of her dolls and bears...she just adores babies. I am dreaming of the day I get to have both Bowden girls cuddled up to me on that hospital bed for our first picture- a moment of exhaustion, pride, thankfulness and overwhelming joy.

  {36 weeks}

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(Can't get enough Baby Bowden 2.0? Check out updates one and two)

Thyme for thanks

This week is a pretty big milestone. Piper is moving to the big girl room at daycare! If I think about it, I could probably come up with 75 paragraphs of poetic waxing about her moving on and not being my baaaayyyyyybeeee anymore. And I probably will have a moment of over dramatic sadness...but not today. Today I choose to celebrate my big girl, and say thank you to all of the wonderful ladies who helped her survive (and thrive) each day for the past year and a half. 

It turns out it practically does take a village to take care of a baby, (Piper has seven teachers!) so though I wanted to get them all a special gift I knew I had to rein it in a little or we wouldn't be able to afford daycare anymore. I bring in sweet treats every once a while but I wanted to do something different. And who doesn't want a plant? Especially when Spring is springing. And if there's one thing we all know the teachers love it's a heartfelt pun. (at least that's what Pinterest taught me).

So I settled on "thyme", got some seed packets for each teacher, put them in some plantable pots, added some fun tissue paper, wrapped a ribbon around them, and added homemade tags. (Piper helped with the coloring.)

Nothing too elaborate or fancy, but hopefully the staff appreciates the thought as much as I appreciate them.

Being working mom isn't easy (hoo boy- another post for another day… Probably a lot more posts for a lot more days.) But I'm so thankful for these ladies who "mom" my baby when I can't.

We will miss them, but good news! Baby  number two is just around the corner.... Soon we'll have about a Bowden in every classroom! And then I'll owe them something really nice.