Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Little Days: Long Days

You know the whole: "The days are long, but the years are short" thing? 

It's true. 

Painfully so, at times. 


I can personally attest to the "days are long" part. They are indeed so very long.

And the "years are short" business? Well, I'm just getting a glimpse of that, but again....yes. Oh my, yes.



I get caught up in the first part though. Feeling the weight of the present, and longing for the future. I forget that we'll be there before I know it, and all my speedy wishing will be replaced by wistful nostalgia.


So I'm trying to remember.

Remember that every 20 minutes spent sitting on the ground nursing, every ounce of sweat shed while chasing after a toddler while strapped to a newborn, every trek up the stairs lugging a stroller and a carseat, every can of Coke used to combat the overwhelming exhaustion...

...every long day...

is part of some very short years I get to spend with my girls. 


I'm not great at it. But I'm trying. Trying to love them right now. Through the yawns, and the tantrums, and the sweat, and the tears. Trying to be with them. Be wholly present in these fleeting moments.


Thank God for the moments of those very long days that are so sweet. And an extra thank you for the moments that I manage to savor before they're gone.


Dear Present Courtney, 

You wanted this. 
You prayed for this. 
You don't deserve this. 
You will make it through this. 
You will miss this.

Love, Future Courtney

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Show Your Real: Kristi

This week I have the pleasure of hosting Kristi from And Babies Don't Keep. She emailed me months ago, saying she found the series and wanted to participate. Yay for new blog friends! I'm so glad she did reach out, because I've loved getting to know her (virtually, at least.) She says one thing she considers one of the biggest blog compliments she can receive is, “Yes! I can totally relate.” and I totally agree. I love that she says "I started getting more of that when I started giving more to relate to. I’d like to keep doing that." Yes! That's what this whole Show Your Real series is about. Hopefully you all are hearing some truth here, and are able to relate to the stories these women are sharing. 

Kristi is a church planter's wife, has two adorable kids, and is expecting a third. And she pretty much cracks me up with her mix of honesty and quirkiness:

I blog about faith, family, and keeping things simple.I live in Beer City, USA which is awesome when I'm not pregnant.
I love writing about my real but sometimes dislike the vulnerability hangover, as Brene Brown calls it.
I have a big personal bubble and a heart of gold. Actually, probably just a big personal bubble.
-----------------------------------

I'm so glad to be part of this series! I love the idea of celebrating the real, stepping forward in vulnerability and all-a-dat. 


When I contacted Courtney about being part of this, I had a post in mind. I'd just been to a clothing swap with some friends and feeling very critical of myself and my body, even at my “happy” weight. Also, I'd just found out I was pregnant, so even if part of my solution was to start really limiting my caloric intake and punishing my body, I couldn't! I shouldn't anyway, but my hands were tied by the little blessing of a blob being knit in my womb already. In the end I talked to my husband about it, realized there were parts of me I was trying keep God out of, and prayed to resubmit all of my identity to the one who gave it to me in the first place. After that, I moved on fairly quickly. So that was my original plan for this post. 

But I'm in a different place now, and I've had quite a lot of real in the last few days that I'd like to share. When I told one friend about some of what had been going on, she said, "Oh! I'm so glad to hear that I'm not the only one." Nope, not at all, sister. 

So. One day last week, I had plans to meet a friend for a picnic at the splash park downtown. I'm late EVERY.SINGLE.TIME I see this girl. Every time. I think she probably expects it now. So I was rushing around, trying to get out the door, feeling proud of myself for the relatively healthy lunch I'd scrounged up. 

"safety first, last and always."


We drove downtown, found a parking spot and I grabbed the change I had for the meter. A whopping 45 cents. I knew we'd be there for longer than that, and was just going to wing it for the rest of the time. Just before I put the money in, the man from the car in front of me walked over. 

Nice Man: Are you leaving ma'am? 
Spacey Mom: Hi! Yes, I am. 
Nice Man: Oh, okay. I was going to say I have more time on my meter and you could pull up if you wanted. 
Spacey Mom: Awesome! Wait. I'm staying...not leaving. I meant I'm staying. Thank you! 

So I pulled up to his spot, hopped out, and put the rest of my change in the meter. ON THE WRONG SIDE. These meters are between two spots and I put my measly 45 cents towards the spot I'd just left. So they both had about 30 minutes on them. **forehead smack** 

I went to the side of the car to get the kids out and realized I'd left our lunch on the counter. For a picnic playdate. **forehead smack** 

We walked up to the splashpark and I spotted some moms from my MOPS group. Then I remembered that that entire MOPS group was scheduled to play there that day too. It had been on my calendar for MONTHS. I mean, come on, Kristi. Get yourself together. 

Thankfully my friend is gracious and shared her lunch with my kids, and I got to introduce some friends from different groups. We got a few minutes to talk while the kids ran around and then headed back home. Nothing we couldn't shake off. 


***

The next day was pretty real as well. My husband left town for the night at about 8:30am. I'm not proud of this next part, okay? As the girls and I were getting ready for preschool, my 3 year old threw up a little. A LITTLE. She's kind of a pukey kid, so we went ahead and got her ready for school anyway. We pulled up, took two steps towards the building and she threw up again, all over the parking lot and her shoes and a little on her dress. So I dropped our younger daughter off and took Liv home with me. She watched TV all morning while I worked on things I'd left to do until they were at school. It was fine. 

Around 11:15 she was complaining about being hungry, so I let her eat a little. She REALLY wanted some cheese, so against the nagging voice in my head, I gave her some. We left early to pick Eliza up at school so we could stop at the car wash and vacuum our car, seeing as the contents of the floor mats could feed a small child for several months. Could and should are two different things, people. So we paid, and pulled in, and just as the attendant was telling me to slide the car into neutral, Liv erupted again. 

We had nowhere to go. 

Nothing to catch it with. 

Nary a wipe to behold. 

You guys, car washes are SLOW. 

I'm 14 weeks pregnant and feeling a little icky myself, so there were several moments in that carwash when I thought we might BOTH end up tossing our cookies. But I held it together and pulled around to the self-serve vacuums. 

Liv is such a throw-up champ. While I collected myself, I quickly vacuumed my side of the car and then went over to her. We used swim diapers, SWIM DIAPERS, to unlatch her and wipe her off a little. Then I stripped her down to her underwear in the parking lot. I almost threw up several more times while I tried to get her car seat clean enough to use again. I kind of wish I could go back and watch the security footage from the carwash parking lot. I'm sure we looked a little ridiculous. Needless to say, the drive home was...unpleasant. 

The only real plus of the day was that both girls took REALLY solid naps. I got some work done, had a cup of tea to calm MY throat, and started a documentary. So that was nice. 

And I thought that was it, we made it through the afternoon, past "dinner" (toast), baths and bed. Then I heard Liv fussing in bed. I went upstairs to take her to the bathroom, and before I opened the door I heard a splashing sound. She was standing in front of her dresser, pants down, disoriented and peeing. Which is how I came to swiffer her room at 9:15pm. 

So during these few days, that was our real. It's not always fun, sometimes it's just plain frustrating. Lonely. Unlovely. But along with the challenging real, there's the goodness. In the bathtub tonight, Eliza was sad about something, probably the fact that I told her not to eat her booger, and Liv straight-up comforted her. It was so sweet. Then, just before bed, Liv put her arm around me on the couch and said, "According to my research, I love you mommy." 

I'd clean up a pukey carseat a million times over to hear that. 

REAL: No I wouldn't. But it was sweet anyway.


------------------------------------- 


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! 

    Monday, July 22, 2013

    Milestones: Finley's 1 month

    Happy One Month, Finley-girl! (one week later...)

    You are a sweetheart of a baby. Sure, you spit up on everything we own...but you don't mean any harm. You're still working on your sleep (and we're working on functioning without it). You love a swaddle and a snuggle, and cry surprisingly little. When you do freak out- it's usually to alert us that you're hungry (again) or you need help with a burp. I can't blame you for being upset about that!

    This month you moved into the 74th percentile for weight (10lbs!) up from the 57th at your one week check up. But you're a petite little thing at only 20.5inches you're only 38th percentile for height. Don't worry too much about the stats though, we think all of those number add up to perfection.

    You are so sweet to your sister too. She adores you, and you're incredibly patient, tolerating her bounces, rocks, blanket offerings, tummy pats and feet tickles. She's working on being gentle, but you don't seem to mind her enthusiasm. I'm hoping this means we're in for lots of sister bonding to come.

    I love the little faces you make. You're not dramatic, your expressions are subtle, but still irresistible. You open your eyes wide, and love to make a little "O" with your mouth (sometimes with your tiny tongue sticking out). My favorite is the freeze move you pull- you stop with your eyes unblinking and hands out and unmoving. It looks like you're hoping maybe if you stay very still no one will notice you. When you're not in hiding, your hands are busy...always moving around, and often clasped in front of you or tucked adorably under your chin. You do have the best "frump face" as we call it, which I look forward seeing to every time you wake up or finish eating. I'm desperate to get a video of it, because when you combine it with a big old stretch, it's just my favorite. And we got the first glimpse at your smile this week (which I even caught on camera- center shot below!). I'm not positive it was on purpose, but I'll take it, and can't wait to see more.

    And I swore I wouldn't constantly compare you to your sister, but people ask constantly if you look like Piper, so just for fun, here's the Pipster at one month:

    It seems you've got a look all your own, Fin. You're a lovely little bundle and we're so thankful we got to add you to our family. We love you to pieces.

    Read about Piper's 1st month here.

    Thursday, July 18, 2013

    What kind of mother?

    "What kind of mother..."
    Ever hear that phrase? Ever thought it? Ever said it?
    It's often muttered quietly about a mom out shopping with ragamuffin kids. Or communicated through sideways glances between moms feeling superior to another in their group.

    But I find it's most often said inside my own head...about myself. I witness my own choices and actions, and judge myself. Harshly.  




    What kind of mother allows her not-yet-two year old watch tv every morning before "school"?
    What kind of mother leaves the baby in the swing while she fusses?
    What kind of mother lets her daughter wear a pink bow everyday, even when it clashes with her her outfit?
    What kind of mother hits up the Wendy's drive-through for a bacon cheeseburger at 10:30 AM?
    What kind of mother dismisses a "minor" spit up, waiting to change the baby's onesie until she has a more serious incident?
    What kind of mother buys a stroller that won't fit in the car?
    What kind of mother forces "independent play" on her toddler while she showers and puts on makeup?

    What kind? A lazy mother? A heartless mother? A disorganized mother? A terrible mother?
    Or...



    The kind of mother who desperately needs 20 minutes to pack lunches and get ready without a little one on her hip.
    The kind of mother who doesn't have enough arms, legs, time, or patience to deal with two littles who decide to cry at the same time, and needs to buy herself 5 minutes.
    The kind of mother who can't resist a little voice proudly declaring, "I PINK!", even if it means looking like she got dressed in the dark.
    The kind of mother who can't resist the cravings spurred on by commercials during The Bachelorette. Oh, and the kind who has a sleeping infant in the backseat and knows if she doesn't take advantage of this window, she may not get to eat again until 3 PM.
    The kind of mother who has already changed the baby's outfit four times and knows changing it again prematurely is a waste of everyone's time (and laundry).
    The kind of mother who researched strollers for hours on her iPhone while nursing but wasn't able to get to the store to actually try it before arranging a shady craigslist deal.
    The kind of mother who is just vain enough to require a swipe of concealer and blow dried bangs before she faces the world.



    I doubt myself. Even in the little things. Because lets be honest- no matter how serious you take things like sleeping in a crib vs. a swing, or the amount of television a toddler should be exposed to, they are little things. (Especially the bow color. That's literally teensy.) But that doesn't mean my guilt feels small.

    So then what about bigger issues?

    What kind of mother gets bored talking to other moms about kid stuff? 

    What kind of mother misses her job, even when she's holding her baby?
    What kind of mother sends her kid to daycare while she stays home with the baby?
    What kind of mother sometimes wishes for these early days to go just a little bit faster?

    Now is it a heartless mother? A terrible mother?

    I could make a list to justify all of those things too...there are reasons behind it all. I could talk about needing intellectual stimulation, or valuing my older daughter's established routine, or struggling with the newborn phase. I could find words to help you understand and minimize my guilt and shame over not being perfect. Of not measuring up. 

    But truly the answer to all of these questions can and should be put much more simply:

    What kind of mother?

    Me. 

    That's the truth. And I'm learning to embrace that it's not only good enough, it's GOOD



    I read something online the other day that spoke to this exact feeling:
    "Don’t let yourself be put into a box that you don’t fit into simply because it is labeled “what a mom looks like.” You already are a mom, you are what a mom looks like now."

    The author was attempting to be an encouragement to women- telling us we can be more than just moms...but I found even more freedom in her words. There is no perfect version of a mother. No gold standard we should all subscribe to. There is my kind of mother. And your kind. And her kind. And a million more. And they're all good. (And sometimes not so good...but oh so real.)
     
    Because regardless of all the mistakes I make, all the selfish spots I still hold on to, all my quirks and struggles...
    I'm also the kind of mother who reads my kids book after book, again and again...and again...
    The kind who will sing "Teapot" on requested repeat, even when I'm the only one doing the motions.
    The kind who will give up bite after bite of banana in my cereal, to a little girl who ate her own breakfast already but still wants "more, more". 
    The kind who smothers my children with kisses. 
    The kind who prays for them every night. (ok...every night except when I fall asleep first...)
    The kind who kisses skinned knees, makes costumes from scratch, who hides veggies in mac&cheese and doles out praise in heaps. 

    The kind who loves my children more than anything in the entire world. More than a job, more than matching bows, more than nutritious lunches...more than perfection. 

    I'm that kind of mother. 

    Photos from Hot Metal Studio.

    Monday, July 15, 2013

    Newborn, by the numbers

    Our girl...in stat form:

    4- weeks old
    2- hours between each feeding. (3 if we're lucky)
    10- dirty diapers per day
    3- record for most diapers used during a single change

    3- outfit changes per day due to spit up (5 if you count mine wardrobe too...)
    2- pounds she's gained despite all that.


    3- instances in which we've gotten both girls to nap at the same time
    1- times I've gotten to nap during that time too


    15- blankets in constant rotation
    12- seconds required to swaddle her (oh yeah, we're fast now...)


    5- contraptions we've tried to get her to sleep
    3- hours spent sleeping on one of us each day instead.


    19.5- months between our girls
    18- inches Piper seems to have grown since becoming a big sister.


    247- iPhone photos taken
    1007- approximate times I've smelled her head since she's come home.


    28- days I've thought about running away
    28- nights I've said bedtime prayers of thankfulness


    100%- likelihood I'll forget all the rough patches and remember the sweet spots.


    Friday, July 12, 2013

    Camp G'mi

    Last week, Finley and I enjoyed an intimate week here at home, which meant Piper had to get out of dodge. But fear not...we sent her to heaven- otherwise known as her grandparent's house. (*G'mi is what the kids call my mom. It's a long story, but it sure is funny when people think we're calling her "jimmy")



    She's stayed with my mom a few times before, so she pretty much knew the drill, but we were still a little worried about spending a full week away from our girl. I knew she would be well taken care of, but I made my mom promise to take a ton of pictures so I knew that everyone was getting along ok. (I worried more for my parents than Piper. Taking care of a toddler is a tough job...and we don't pay well!)



    I shouldn't have worried. They had a blast. I got daily (hourly...) texts and pictures from everyone in my family telling me how much fun they were having, and what a joy Piper was. I definitely missed being with her, but it made my mama heart happy to know she was being so well behaved and charming. (We think our girl is pretty awesome, but having that confirmed by people we love is just the best.)

    So if you'll indulge me- here are some snippets of her week, through the lens of my mom's camera phone.
    ------------------------------

    "Just put Piper down. She walked in, found the piggie stuffed animal, wiped him with a wipe, put a diaper on him, wrapped him in a blanket and put him in her bed. Vern and I pretty much died."


    "Piper woke up talking. I went in. Picked her up and she said "bappa?" [her version of Papa] Took her in our room and she put all the pillows on the floor and started falling on them as if she always lives here. Now she is toddling through the house discovering all her toys and showing us. It is so cute."


    "Piper is having a ball! It is sprinkling now but no sunburn. She loves everyone and the VEST - so far so good."


    "Jacob [her 4 year old cousin] and Pi asleep. So cute. Jacob kissed Piper and she hugged him and said night back to him"

    "Yesterday and today she reached out and said "bed" when I was holding her before putting her down. Hates my froggy-voiced singing?"


    "Hi mama! Miss you but having the time of my life. What new baby?"


    "Piper rode a bike with pedals today and is playing chutes and ladders with Jacob. She is a genius."


    "We were all playing in the living room and Piper left and pulled her high chair across the kitchen and said "eat". Hilarious."


    "She would spend all day out here if I would let her."


    ---------------------------------

    I adore that Piper is so comfortable with my (her) family. I know my mom especially will cherish this week of memories, and I hope this is the first in a long line of summers spent together.

    Tuesday, July 9, 2013

    Show Your Real: Melissa

    When Melissa of Buffy Sunshine found the Show Your Real series, and emailed me saying she wanted to contribute, I was thrilled to hear someone liked what we're building here enough to want to be a part of it!   Melissa is a self-described "art loving, organic-eating hot mess of a pastor's wife." She has four kids who  may just be the cutest little southern hipsters I've ever seen. I'm so happy to have her joining the series today. And if you're a fan like Melissa, send me an email..I'd love to have you share your real!
    ----------------------------

    Hello! I am thrilled to contribute to all the realness that's happening in this little corner of the blog world. I'm always fascinated to learn that seemingly well put together friends, bloggers, shop owners etc, are real people with frustrations and guilt and unwashed dishes. It helps me. It encourages me. It challenges me.


    I have four children, ages 8, 7, 5 and 1. They are full of energy and imagination and they change clothes four or five times a day. We take them on camping trips, feed them organic food, don't let them watch much t.v. and always have a messy art project going on.


    On a typical day, I wake up around 7am and read two chapters of the Bible. Sometimes I have time to pray or scribble something in a journal before the kids wake up, but most days they are all in my lap and I am literally holding the Bible above all of their heads so I can soak in the last few words before we start the day. My husband makes me coffee every morning and we all sit down for breakfast together before he leaves for the day. Our mornings are very scheduled... the rest of the day is a tornado of outdoor activities, practices and lessons, laundry, dinner and projects.


    After the kids go to bed, I catch up on emails and blogging. I recently started an online magazine called Sunshine Magazine (first issue up September 1, 2013) so I spend a lot of time writing articles, conducting interviews and recruiting advertisers.


    In all realness, I am almost always mentally struggling to appear happy and content without seeming "fake." I get lots of emails and blog comments that say, "do you ever have a bad day?" The answer is YES! I have lots of bad moments (and hours and days and weeks). I would rather paint something than wash dishes. I have wrinkles around my eyes and grey hairs. Sometimes I get to Target and notice that one of my kids forgot to wear shoes. I am truly a "real" hot mess of a Pastor's wife with four children who survives each day on large amounts of God's grace and strong coffee.

    ------------------------------------- 


    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! 

      Monday, July 8, 2013

      Babymoon

      About 20 months ago, my world was forever changed, when we welcomed a little bundle of joy named Piper Jane Bowden. And by "changed" I mean, my world...everything I knew...everything I was comfortable with, and capable of...got rocked. Some people take to this motherhood thing like a duck to water, but for me, it was hard. I was a physical and emotional mess. I had a pretty rough recovery- which resulted in it taking nearly a month to be able to function normally. And emotionally, I remember not feeling fully balanced again until maybe the two month mark. I loved my sweet little girl, and we had our share of successes as we forged our new life together, but I remember plenty of days where I was sad, lonely, worried, anxious, and just plain exhausted. Quite simply, motherhood was overwhelming for me. I had no clue really, what to expect and many of the dreams I subconsciously held weren't turning out to be true. There were tons of positives to our new life- I loved the snuggles, and her sweet chubby face- but there was also a lot that just seemed daunting. Going to the store was an ordeal. A simple diaper change would turn into a three-diaper-both-of-us-change-our-shirts disaster. I had no idea what it meant to be needed all day, everyday, and that new reality was a heavy burden to accept.


      I remember feeling like everyone else had it figured out, and I was a failure. I had an informal list in my head of things other moms were able to do that I couldn't. Simple things like walk unassisted, or make it through the day without crying for no reason. (ok, both of those examples are from the first week after delivery...but still...) I felt cheated out of the new-baby-bliss I expected to enjoy, and I feared that I wasn't good enough to make it through this journey we were now stuck on.



      Slowly things did get better though. I healed more, which allowed simple tasks to fade into the background a bit more. I began to get used to the 'round the clock feeding schedule (no one said love it, but it did become part of my new normal). And as my hormones settled down, my crying jags and melodrama waned. But still, when I look back on the beginning, it's a bit bittersweet. I remember falling deeply in love with my new daughter- taking endless pictures, and staring at her tiny features in absolute awe. But I also remember the pain. The feeling of inadequacy and uncertainty. The darkness that clung like fog to portions of our early days.


      So this time...I was nervous. I was scared of the pain, of the emotions, of the responsibility. I prayed that my experience would be different. That my delivery would be easy and my transition to motherhood (again) would be smooth.

      And OH, how God heard me. This time has been SO different. So very, very different! I had the shortest labor of all time (no one said easy...but short does count for something!) and a textbook recovery (again- not easy, but normal). And besides some typical minor emotional drama that comes with new-mama territory, I've felt good. Happy. Again...normal.

      The first time I felt like I was missing out...and this time I've been blessed with a newborn do-over. And what a giant blessing that has been.


      This past week Piper spent the week at my parents, which gave Dustin and me a break from balancing the needs of two littles, while also giving us the chance to spend some time with just Fin. And as much as I miss my spunky, smiley, little lady (I use the term "lady" loosely...) it's been really nice to have time alone with our newest girl.

      And I am soaking her up. I'm in full babymoon mode, spending all day feeding her, snuggling her, and smelling her sweaty little head, on repeat.


      The idea of a "babymoon" typically refers to a vacation that couples take before the arrival of a baby (ain't nothin' wrong with that!) But for me, it makes more sense that a babymoon would be just like a honeymoon- it comes after the big event, and is a chance for the newly joined love birds to spend time together...no responsibilities...no distractions, just each other. So Fin and I are on our babymoon. (Dustin is along for the ride, but unfortunately has that pesky job to attend to, so he's on babymoon-lite). 

      This time with my girl has been exhausting for sure, but it's also been refreshing in a way. The first time around I was a naive novice. This time I've gotten the chance to feel proud. I got my mama sea-legs much faster, so I've been able to enjoy this time, and relish moments of feeling like "I've got this". There are familiar feelings of fear, and doubt, and being overwhelmed, but they flow quickly like waves, without knocking me down as the pass. 


      I see a different mama when I look in the mirror this time around. I view her with more understanding, confidence, and a lot more grace. 

      And as for Fin? I'm over the moon with this girl.

      I'm hoping it's mutual.