This Year's Theme

In one of the “Try this at Home” segments of the podcast Happier, Gretchen Rubin and her sister Elizabeth Craft, recommend choosing a one-word theme for each school year. Now, I am all about resolutions, words, and themes, so no surprise that I wanted to try this myself. When I was in Austria for a study abroad program, our priest suggested choosing a word for the semester, and I chose the word Feet. It just came to me, and I definitely would never have consciously chosen that word, but it turned out to really speak to me that semester. I still get chills when I hear the Easter Gospel “And behold, Jesus met them on their way and greeted them. They approached, embraced his feet, and did him homage” (Matthew 28:9).  Anyway, since my birthday is in September, which is also back-to-school season, I thought I would consider this the start of a new year, my 28^th, to be precise.

So without further ado, this year’s theme will be…

Refuge

When I was thinking and praying about what my word would be this year, several words jumped out right away: Enjoy. Savor. Discipline. Rest. And then I read this from the Magnificat for Monday: “As for me, the Lord will be my stronghold; my God will be my rock where I take refuge” (Psalm 94:22). The word refuge in particular nestled into my heart. Yes, that is what I need this year. Refuge. 

When I think of my word, I think of a child nestled into her father’s arms, now and then glancing at the big, broad, world, and then burrowing a bit deeper into his chest. Safe. Protected. Peaceful. The world can be full of worries and chaos, but in my Father’s arms, I can take refuge.

This year’s word also challenges me to be that refuge for other people. I want my son, my husband, everyone who crosses my path, to exhale in my presence. I want to be a shelter, a safe place to come in from the storms of this life.

This year’s word also seems very timely, as so many people are displaced from wars abroad. My heart aches for those affected, especially all of the families who have to make difficult decisions, such as: Do we stay in the only home we have ever known and face almost certain annihilation? Or do we leave everything, risking everything, for the chance at a better life? It is heartening to see how people in Greece and elsewhere have opened their hearts and homes to these refugees. Let us always strive to be a refuge to one another. This year, that will be my goal.

Of Colds and Birthdays {The Disillusionment of Parenthood}

I didn't blog last week because 1) I caught a cold and 2) it was my birthday on Thursday, so lots of celebrations were had (even in the midst of the aforementioned cold...thanks to everyone who made it one of the best birthdays I have ever had!).

The cold started on Monday, with feeling really down, physically and emotionally. I felt like my legs were made of lead, and I was moving through molasses. By Tuesday, I had a sore throat and a runny nose. This was the first time since Mr. D was born that I have been sick {a miracle, which I praise God for}. That's right, I haven't been sick for more than 8 months!

Well, anyway, by Tuesday evening, I was feeling extremely sorry for myself, because here I was, sick and exhausted, and I still had to take care of Mr. D. {Wow, I can really hear the whine in that last sentence}.

Do you ever have those moments (or days, weeks, years?!) when being an adult seems like a cruel joke? Is this what I was looking forward to, when I was a child? Attending to a suddenly mobile child, who is on a napping strike, while feeling absolutely miserable?

So, I was lying in bed at 5pm, while Mr. D finally took a decent nap, when my husband comes home from work. Now, I am not exaggerating at all when I tell you that I was counting on Andy coming home to relieve me and let me finally get some rest. It was the only thing that got me through that day.

Andy would come home, and rush to my side. "How are you feeling, darling?" He'd then offer to watch Mr. D, and make dinner. He'd even go to the Infant CPR class that I signed up for. "I'll take care of everything. You just focus on getting better."

Instead, Andy came home feeling just as terrible as I did. He crawled into bed next to me, and started expressing how terrible his day had been. The gloom from the day settled firmly upon us. I realized that I wasn't going to get the night off. So what did I do? I got angry.

I jumped out of bed, and in a frenzy of frustration, I started getting ready to go to the class. I had 20 minutes to make dinner, eat dinner, and get out the door. Like a petulant child, I yelled, "This week stinks! I don't even want to have a birthday. There's nothing to celebrate, anyway." I slammed cupboards and banged pots and pans. I was a mess.

Andy came into the kitchen, and asked me how he could help. I motioned for him to take over the chopping, since I was in no condition to wield a knife. He said calmly that he thought it would be better if he went the the class. He also reminded me that we were on the same side. With tears and sobs, I sputtered, "I'm just so tired. I just want to be selfish for a change. Why does being an adult have to be so hard?" For a minute, we just stood there in the kitchen, grieving together the disillusionment that can accompany parenthood. Being a parent is hard. Harder than I ever thought it would be.

Parenthood (like marriage) is often painted in extremes: the newborn peach fuzz and coos vs. the colicky screaming banshee; the precocious lisping preschooler vs. the biting tantrum terrible twos/threes; the Gilmore Girl-like adolescent camaraderie vs. attitude-laden wild child. These are all real experiences for real parents. But more often than not, it's the day-to-day annoyances and grievances that wear us down. It's the constant death-to-self that you experience when you are responsible for another life. Rain or shine. In sickness or in health. Whether you feel like it-or not.

This is where the difficulty lies; but this is also where the grace lies. The grace to admit that it is hard. The grace to ask for forgiveness--and accept it. The grace to face disillusionment together, holding on to each other, and the promise of a better tomorrow.

{And it was}

Are You Living in Reactive Mode?

Distraction. 

Buzz..beep…update this! Respond to that! Avast Antivirus needs to restart your computer. Wait, is that the baby crying? 

If you live in reactive mode, then, like me, it’s hard to get anything done. You feel pulled into a million directions, when all you’re trying to do is something simple: like get a load of laundry done, make a simple dinner, catch up with a friend on the phone (or in my case, write a blog post!). These things are so so easy. So why can it be so hard to accomplish them? Other people make accomplishing tasks look simple. 

My current nighttime reading is Making Ideas Happen by Scott Belsky. Andy was reading it earlier this summer, and it looked interesting, so I requested to read it when he finished. We had a brief conversation the other night about my thoughts so far:

Andy: So, how do you like the book?
Me: It’s really good. I can see how it will be really helpful to me. Probably more helpful to me, than it would be for you.
Andy: Yeah, a lot of those strategies were stuff that just comes naturally to me.
Me: Right. You’re probably thinking, Isn’t this obvious already? Oooo, let’s make a list of action steps, and accomplish them one at a time. Groundbreaking.

While this conversation was conducted in a playful bantering sort of way, it reveals the truth in one difference between my husband and me: he is task-oriented, and I am people/relationship oriented. I believe that both tendencies have their own pros and cons, so this isn’t meant to be a slam on any one way of doing things. What it is, is this: if you are people-oriented, you have to work a lot harder to get those to-do list items accomplished. Because in my people-oriented mind, relationships trump tasks. Every. Time. This can sound idealistic. It can sound noble. But more often than not, at the end of the day, important “action steps” are left undone. Lost in the demands of the people I serve (and love).

So, I need to read books like Making Ideas Happen {which is, of course, geared towards idealistic creatives that have a hard time producing and, you guessed it, making ideas happen}. Andy, and other task-oriented people don’t have to read that book. But, if it was on their to-do list, you better believe they would read it anyway. And gain much satisfaction from crossing that item off. 

• Read Making Ideas Happen 

So chime in, are you task-oriented or people/relationship oriented? If you are people/relationship oriented like me, what strategies have you found helpful to keep you on task? 

It breaks my heart a little: when it's more than just a nursing strike

Mr. D is now 7 months old, and is no longer nursing. I'm down to 1-2 pumping sessions a day, and I'm only getting 3-4 ounces in a 24 hour period. Nursing was never easy for us, but we had finally gotten to a good place with it at about 5 months. Then came distracted nursing, and biting, and then just not being interested in it at all. They say that it is really rare for a baby to wean him/herself before 12 months, but after pushing through for more than a month, I just couldn't take it anymore.

It breaks my heart a little, especially because we fought so hard to build my supply, work through latching issues, change my diet, and get his weight up. We did all that we could. And now it's time for me to let it go.

When you're a parent, you want what is best for you child. But what do you do when what is best for children in general, is not best for the child in front of you? Sure, I could have insisted on nursing Mr. D until 12 months, fighting back tears when he twisted to get down on the floor, all before letting go.

I could have thought "I guess it's just a stage" for months and months on end. I could have ruined our relationship to meet the American Academy of Pediatrics recommendations. {Incidentally, they suggest continuing nursing past 12 months, as long as it is mutually beneficial for both mother and child. What, is there some magical transformation at 12 months so that only then is it okay for the mother to have a say in all this??}

I guess it's all about the milk.

Or is it? Isn't it slightly reductionist to claim that motherhood is all about one aspect of care? Instead, isn't motherhood about loving the child in front of you? Not the neighbor's "angel child" or the Gerber baby. Your child. You know, the one God entrusted you with.

I'm not trying to start a fight. That's the last thing I want to do. I guess I'm just frustrated that even though this seems like the best thing for our family, I still feel guilty about it. Okay, angry rant over.