Stop Calling My Birth Easy

Stop calling my birth easy.

There. I said it. If I am being honest, which clearly I am in that kind of mood, the words "birth" and "easy" do not belong in the same sentence. "Easy" and "kids" don't belong in the same sentence either. Stop calling it easy!

But let's rewind. If all that you knew about my birth is how long my labor lasted, or that I gave birth at home, you may be hearing potato when I'm not even talking about veggies... Do you feel me? We announce these stats like they can truly give a realistic image into birth. When we share a baby's size, are we assessing how hard it may have been to birth said child? Are we wondering how healthy that child is? I must say I'm not entirely sure.

My active labor was 2hours long... I always feel inclined to add a *BUT*. "But I had prodromal labor for a month." Like, it wasn't as easy as it sounds. A mother undergoes a c section, which to some implies that she didn't get the "full birth experience" (yes I have heard someone say that.) But guess what? Many women who undergo a c section actually labor for quite a while before a surgical route is suggested. Even if they never felt a single contraction, I'm pretty sure it's no picnic to recover from abdominal surgery while caring for you family. In contrast, I cannot imagine what it's like to be in active labor for days, but I DO know that growing and delivering little humans is exhausting!

Why is there so much judging? You'd think there is a birth olympics medal ceremony somewhere: "Sorry, you were docked points for a short labor, but it looks like you made up for it by giving birth at home... That's pretty brave, so I'm gonna give you an 8 out of 10 overall." What is this!? We are systematically undercutting the bravery and vulnerability that EVERY BIRTHING MOTHER endures when they bring a helpless child into this world.

While we're at it, let's go a step further... Say you AREN'T the woman who birthed your children. Oh, well... We don't even have a yard stick to tell how much of a badass you are, how will you ever have a leg to stand on as a mother. (sarcasm of course.) If we stand around lording over new moms, "Wait until you've gone weeks without sleep- wait until terrible twos- wait until you have MULTIPLE kids..." We will only perpetuate the Parenthood Hunger Games. Does it sounid crazy yet? Do I sound crazy yet?

The measure of a woman, the measure of a mother... It's not calculable based on a few stats. My birth was beautiful, and it took me months to prepare for it. Literally months of doing squats and stretches and meditations, because that's how I chose to treat my body. Choosing to breastfeed was incredibly hard, not a moment has been easy. But you know what? Mixing formula for a little one isn't without its challenges, I've done it as a foster momma. Baby wearing vs strollers, vaccinations vs non-vaccination, medicated vs natural, cry it out vs attachment parenting... The motherhood Olympic events go on and on. Many seem to be under the impression that these are opposing teams, not choices. Unfortunately, the peanut gallery isn't present in your home to help support these various events, they just sit back and inform you how to parent.



We each start off clueless. There comes a day when you are handed a helpless human being and in that moment you get to assume responsibility. How you got there might look worlds different from how I got there... And where you go from there might look worlds different than where I am going. You wanna know why? Because our helpless new babies don't know there is a core belief system and lifestyle waiting for them. My girls didn't know they were being born into a Christian, attachment parenting, hippy house... My oldest didn't know she was born with an epidural in a hospital. They don't know we had kids right away instead of waiting a few years. They don't know we are a "one car family," or that not all daddies have motorcycles. They don't know that some kids have more toys than them, or bigger houses than them... There are other ways to parent... Because we are entirely different people.

Struggling isn't the mark of poor parenting, it's proof that you are breathing. Constantly trying to one up your efforts, reading the latest parenting book, keeping up with the invisible standard --and I hear that soon I'll be faced with how to school my children *gasp*. Aiming to bear fruit is significantly more realistic than aiming to have a perfect garden. Guess what? Someone will always disagree with you. Birth, parenthood, relationships, adulthood-- it's all hard. I imagine this thing we call motherhood would feel like a safer place if we put down the score cards and approached our differences as teammates, instead of opponents.

This is for the Moms (We need to stick together)

I am a mother. While this does not tell you everything that I am, I feel that it does elude to quite a bit. Today, as I survey my messy home and as I reflect on how super awesome Walmart Grocery Pick Up is... I thought of these three simple ways that all of you moms out there understand me. When I begin to feel overwhelmed... You help me remember I am not alone. We need to stick together!

We change diapers

•This is literally the first thing I imagine when I consider motherhood. I automatically can assume that the other mothers in my life have changed diapers or have potty trained their children. This is the first tool in my self-love arsenal. When I feel tempted to compare myself to other mothers, I am instantly humbled by the fact that we all handle poop... We all deserve a medal (and a nice Jacuzzi bath.)

We wash laundry... And eventually put it away

•There is a quote by Thema Davis that I have heard before, "Saying yes to happiness means learning to say "no" to things that stress you out." Yes, chores stress me out, but obviously someone needs to do them, right? So this quote isn't saying "GOODBYE RESPONSIBILITY!" Rather, it just means that each of us are also raising little people with needs (and they are freaking adorable most of the time) so we have to prioritize. We all have to do this. Sometimes we choose stress, sometimes we choose happiness... But don't worry, we all do it. We all have this in common, no matter how picture perfect we seem on Facebook.

We play

•If you have children, you probably have played make believe of some kind. Maybe your kids are like my oldest, she wants to be a Train. Not an Engineer, an actual Train. I support this. Her vibrant imagination is so sweet and full of life. Because we play, we are all a part of who our children believe they can become. The sky is the limit. When we get caught up in the routine and chaos that our days hold, we sometimes lose sight of this. We are raising Doctors, Engineers, Nurses, Politicians... They may be business owners, bosses, subordinates... Not only are we raising who they will become, but we are raising them to believe in those around them as well. Leaders and Followers. We need both. We get to let them lead, showing them how to follow. 

Do you need a healthy dose of self love? My love language is affirmation, so basically I can dish it out all day long. Leave me a message! I would love to chat. You are not alone in this big, crazy role... I'm standing with you.

What are other basic ways we can all relate as mothers? Leave your comments!

Charcoal Brownies and Grace

Based on the title alone, you're probably eager to hear what I have to say. If I am being truly transparent, I am eager to hear what else God has to say to me on this topic as well.

GRACE.

I live a rather minimalist life. As far as it depends on me, I try to scale back and really un complicate my life, home and schedule as much as I can. It's just more manageable that way. It keeps my introvert battery from reaching 'E'. It has been this way for as long as I can remember! As a child I begged my mom for alone time (since i didn't have my own room, this had to be sanctioned). It wasn't personal. It wasn't selfish... It was introversion. Our needs are quite personal when we are drained. Be it quiet, a hobby or just an empty room... We need space.

I learned a long time ago that I want to give my family good things. I want to be able to play my part. I want to love them in word AND in deed. So I make my quiet time a priority. I have learned that I cannot short cut that quality time...why? Ah yes. That's what it is. Alone time is my heart's way of receiving my love language... Self love is so vital. If I don't actively give myself LOVE... Then exactly what is it that I am giving them?

This brings to me to today's title:

Charcoal Brownies and Grace.

Yesterday I had a God moment. The day before, I ordered groceries online and arranged to pick them up before lunch the following day. I know our schedule, so I timed it perfectly. But I had forgotten my wallet at my in law's house, so I stopped there first. Upon arriving I learned that their plans were evolving, so free time had come up and they expressed willingness to watch the girls while I run over to the store. I paused thinking, Well, I ordered the groceries online... So it's really just THERE AND BACK, but 30 minutes alone sounds great! So I chugged my coffee and took off. Upon picking up the groceries, I began chatting  with the woman helping me load them. She was so sweet and kind. Obviously a mom (you can always hear it in their voices.) She could tell we had kids by what I purchased, but saw that I was alone. I joked, Here I planned my whole day around making things simple and smooth with my girls... And now I have this spontaneous time alone! Too bad I already said I would be right back! This woman, no more than 45, looked at me as if we were old friends and said, Don't go get them. Just don't. Take care of yourself. They are happy, healthy and safe. Don't go get them. I smiled and realized why I felt such a connection with her... She was being Jesus to me. So I called my mother in law, she was happy to keep them longer.

Fast forward. Jason and I communicated well. I made my needs known. We had a friend over that evening. I cooked our favorite meal, the house was in it's normal condition. Nothing extraordinary was happening. We finished our evening, our friend went home... Crap! I thought. I forgot to make brownies for Jason's work party. Offering to make brownies was really the sneakiest thing I could have done. You see, I make brownies way more often than I would like to admit. Let's just say we are wealthy with brownies. I could make them in my sleep--- Or so I thought. I put the brownie dough in the pan, preheated the oven and set a timer. Jason asked if I would cuddle with him for a bit, so we weighed our options and I chose to step away from the kitchen. As you can probably assume, I never heard the timer go off. Not because the sound doesn't carry to our room (a factor I had considered before stepping away). No, the reason I didn't hear it is because I fell asleep. I didn't foresee this happening because over the last 4 months I have been getting my alone time at night once everyone falls asleep. I was physically unable to sleep until I had that quiet time. This day was different. This day God gave me grace. He surprised me with an outting alone. He filled Gemma's extrovert batteries AND my introvert batteries at the same time. I fell asleep so naturally because I felt peaceful. 

I have been asking myself for 24 hrs now... WHY?? Why give me such a gift, why demonstrate such grace at the grocery store... If I was just going to go home and screw it up? 

A beautiful friend of mine asked me this morning "Are you surrendering to this season?" Meaning... Our kids are little for such a short time... Am I rushing? Am I expecting too much of myself? I laughed, not yet fully grasping the question: "I chose BROWNIES! Three ingredients and POOF. I chose these over making Gumbo, or chicken noodle... I am choosing easy, simple... I'm not overextending myself. Should I just quit? Should I not even do the little things for Jason?" I didn't have an answer. All I could figure is that this is unnatural. A mother cannot seriously do much less than what I have been doing. I watch kiddie shows. My 2 year old has an iPod for when I need a break. My house is minimal to reduce chores. We don't eat fancy. My 4 month old rarely wears clothes. Laundry sits in piles for days and it doesn't bother me. Where am i doing too much? What corner should I cut next? Should I hide from my kids more often? Pinterest projects are way off my radar these days. Target is my idea of a vacation. 

Tonight, laying in bed, it finally hit me. God offers grace. He gives peace. He gives second chances. He gives hope. So I had to ask myself... If there is nothing "frivolous" left to cut out, maybe it's not God who is trying to get my attention. Maybe it's Satan? YIKES. If you knew the names I have called myself today, you would be surprised it took me so long to realize this. The brownies baked for 3.5 hrs. They were black and half of our home was in smoke when I woke up. What woke me up? Not the smoke. Not the timer. Not even a smoke detector. Nope... It was Reia. GRACE. God gives grace. You see, Reia could have slept another 2 hrs. That would be her normal sleep at that time of night. But  coincidentally she just began 4 month old sleep regression. Are you realizing the same thing I just realized? He gives and takes away! God only gives good gifts. Had there been a house fire, we wouldn't have been warned by our smoke detectors. What a grace from God. Now we can replace the batteries. 

I cannot do less, all of the frivolous corners have been cut... But I CAN accept more grace. I really messed up. I am a tired mom who is just trying to imitate my Heavenly Father and give my family good things. I fell short this time, but one thing is for sure... I will treasure these two great lessons I learned about grace. By remembering these things, I will remember God's grace and dismiss Satan's accusations. You cannot give what you do not have: That applies to both grace AND the accusations. 

“What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!””

Luke 11:11-13 ESV

Simply Hard

There were a few days recently where I was just utterly drained. Depleted. Empty. You get the picture. It's not a place that I'm unfamiliar with... I am a parent of two kids, 2 years old and under. It happens even when we try to combat it. Why? Let's talk about that.

One of those days went like this: We were staying in a hotel. Jason wouldn't come back to us until we were ready to return home that evening. It wasn't a first. It's been done before. It's doable.

But we had been staying in a hotel. 

"Not a problem. I prepared for this:

Tablet, check. 

Snacks, check.

Diapers, check.

Head Phones, check.

Chargers, check.

Favorite Toys, check.

Emergency Clothing Changes, check.

Homeopathics, check.

Easy Out-of-hotel plans, check..."

You get the picture.

I have done this before. 

Motherhood is by no means something I believe can be mastered. The moment you think you've "got this" you wake up from an accidental nap to find your daughter's blankie in the toilet and the bathroom trash's contents across the floor... Not that that has ever happened *wink wink*.

So I was prepared to not be prepared... this wasn't the hunger games, I knew we would survive it.

So we took it easy. Before Jason left I packed up the big stuff in the hotel room, Jason carried those things to the car. We went to the lobby (without him), ate breakfast... I had Reia in my Tula baby carrier, Gemma sat in a large backed chair eating an apple while I ordered my coffee. 

I've got this! ---CRAP! I know better than to say that!

Not long after this I realized I needed to take our "party" to the car... Gemma was running from me every chance she got. Her apple had hit the floor a few times at this point. Reia was becoming upset and wanted to eat. Gemma, who has had seasonal allergies lately, begins coughing. And coughing. And coughing. No big deal. This is basic mom-gig stuff. I can secure Gemma in the car, lather oils on her and play her favorite song while I nurse. See? I had a plan. 

Apparently I should have conferenced with my kids about this plan first. By the time we reached the car, the wifi was poor, requiring data that we couldn't spare. I turned up the Christmas music on the radio and nursed Reia. Gemma, however, wasn't interested in oils. So I did what any mother would do... what was best for her! While nursing Reia I reached back with a roller ball of oil in my right hand and rolled it on whatever skin I could reach! No biggie. She is loud and upset, but once those oils kick in she'll calm down. But the oils didn't give her relief, nor did it calm her. This too has happened before. All of these things! 

You're beginning to get the idea, right? From the parking lot, to missing daddy, to navigating traffic with out-of-date GPS, to feeding a picky eater in a restaurant, etc... It's been done before. I already had these mom-merit-badges. So what was different? Was anything different? It's so obvious looking back. It was all of these little things TOGETHER. I was prepared for all of these things... but I wasn't prepared for them to be piggy backing each other. That had never happened before. I assumed some things would just go smoothly. 

Surely something will be low maintenance and I can relax while we're on this trip.

But the truth is and the reality of life is... sometimes it's completely up to my Maker to get me through! Nothing on earth can match His insurance policy.

FAITH.

These small, unfortunate struggles during our day kept piling on. The phrase "The straw that broke the camel's back" comes to mind. Sometimes it's just a mountain of straw on our backs! That day wasn't hard because anyone was lazy, difficult or particularly challenging... It wasn't hard because our plans were complicated or advanced. Sometimes it's just hard because there's no way around it! I received just enough self-care. Just enough to make it from sun up to sun down. You know what this reminds me of?

"I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions." Exodus 16:4

I won't pretend to know the upper-story here. I don't know if God had a specific lesson in mind, if the devil was attacking, or if I just should have done things differently. That's behind us... so the question is, what value do I take from this? 

I had just enough. When Jason returned that evening, the girls were happy to see him. (As was I!) But my resources were tapped. I was running on empty after a job well done. God sent his manna, it was just enough for my day. Was I paying attention? Was I satisfied? Were we sustained? 

And what about all that straw? The straw slowly blew away with time. Jason, one of God's enormous gifts to me, was the breeze that God used to take it away. Thank you, Lord for a kindhearted husband and father who lightened that load and gave me rest. 

Even when life is simply hard, He always gives just enough... 

Thankful For

I am writing this while refereeing a "time-in." Gemma has lost her mind, ugly crying with snot running off her face like lava... I think to myself. I love this. I love them. Hey, I'm not being facetious. These snot buckets and poo butts are a daily blessing to me. Because as Gemma melts down and bawls her eyes out right now, I am her calm. I get to hold my peace and help her find north when she is ready to relax again. So while she melts down, I thought it fitting to journal what I am thankful for:

1. Gemma. 

She is a fire cracker. She is spirit and fire. She is tenderness and affection. She adores her bible and her sister and cares for them deeply. She loves big. Fits big. Plays big. Lives big. Gemma is a whole lot of kid in a little body, and I am so excited to watch who she becomes every day. 

2. Reia.

She is a ball of fun. Reia has a magnetic smile that could power half of Europe. She is hope and sweetness. I like to say she was created to cuddle. Her precious head full of hair is just further proof that God intended for her to be born at 41-weeks-of-perfection. 

3. Jason. 

I don't know how we ever get anything done before noon. We are both night time people, but you rise every week-day and work hard for us. You would work hard even if I didn't stay home with our girls -even if you were single. Why? Because you are a hard worker. You do what you're passionate about and it shows. I am thankful that you work hard for yourself AND for us.

4. Our families

We come from very different cultures, but one major thing we have in common: love. Our families know how to love big. No holding back. Unconditional. Here-let-me-help-you-with-that love! I am so thankful for this.

5. My faith

I am thankful for my faith. My faith in my Creator. It has been what helps me stay centered my entire life. But I am also thankful for my faith in humanity. In people. I am thankful that I don't draw lines in the sand. I am thankful that I respect differences. I am thankful that I assume there are misunderstandings. I am thankful that my faith in God helps me to extend genuine grace even when there WASN'T a misunderstanding (when people really have been sour.) Because God has done the same for me. I am thankful that I believe in YOU enough to tell my story, my truth, without fear. I am thankful that I have faith in WHO I was created to be and that I recognize that there is no ceiling on who I can become, and I believe the same is true for you. 

What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving?

Home

I am in an absolutely grateful haze this week. It's my favorite holiday and I am spending this week with a few of my biggest blessings all under one roof.

It's taken me 26 years, 10 major relocations, 2 new languages, 3 years of marriage, two babies and two identity crisis'... I'm here to tell you what I've learned. 

I have always been confused as to HOW I should identify what "home" is. I have a vivid memory of going into my mom's room when I was 4-5 years old and telling her I felt home-sick. I had only moved once before this occasion and I was 18 months old then, so I think it's fair to say this feeling has lingered for a LONG time. 

So what does HOME mean to me?

As a child I only knew "home" as a house. It's where we went when we left the grocery store. It's where we went when church was over. 

HOME. 

But then I began hearing people refer to "home" as somewhere other than where you live. Home was where they used to live. I didn't have one of those, that I could remember anyway. I didn't remember Kokomo, Indiana. For me it was just a name on my birth certificate. 

It sounded romantic in that heart-aching-long-distance-relationship kind of way. How boring I was! No life experience! Woe, is me! No used-to-be-home trophy on my mantel. I couldn't begin to relate to these people and that frustrated me. I felt ignorant.

I was 7 years old when my dad first told me about the possibility of moving away from the home I knew and loved. To be honest, I thought it sounded cool! "Life experience! YES!" THIS will teach me more about what "home" is. (I shake my head just writing this. How very naive I was.)

We moved to Washington state, my accent was thick and my freckles were dark. "I'm from Louisiana!" I would tell people, with enthusiasm. That is, until people began mocking my twang. UGH... People can be so cruel sometimes. Let me elaborate on this for a moment... I had a great sense of humor. I thought southern draws were hick and silly and fun! The mocking I am referring to was degrading and shameful. So my used-to-be-home didn't feel safe to claim. All of the emotional souvenirs I brought with me, like my favorite foods, my accent, my stories... No one wanted to see my mantel. My "trophies" from a life before. 

That's when I realized that I should cling to consistency. Predictable. Common and normal are acceptable. My identity was in crisis and I was only 8 years old.

Years came and went. I played it safe. Too safe. I was probably too serious. I shed my southern accent as soon as I could and always tried to fit-in just enough that I didn't stand out. I moved many more times: from Washington, back to Louisiana, to Montana, to Texas, to Mexico, Indiana, Texas again and finally Oklahoma.

Fast forward.

I was an AIMer in Mexico City, ready to leave the field. My team mates and classmates were returning home. I tried to play it off like I was excited to have the world as my oyster, or some other nonsense. But truthfully I was stressed. My parents were living abroad at the time. I didn't seem to have the 'landing pad' that everyone else was talking about. I had a few invitations... My glamorous life of adventure had it's perks! Friends in 5 states opened their arms and invited me to call them home in lieu of my parents living far off. "How flattering", I thought. But I didn't only need a place to lay my head, I was exhausted. Which option would most closely resemble "home?"

Cue next identity crisis. 

What is my culture? What has shaped me? What do I believe? Do my beliefs align with my parents'? Do I want to date a little? Do I want to go to college? How will I pay for college? Should I do more with Spanish? Should I return and pick up Sign Language again? How will I afford a car? How do I get insurance? THEY JUST KEPT COMING. 

With counsel, I have done some research into the psychological reason for my identity crisis. I had no idea what my core beliefs were. Is Ford better than Chevy? Are the mountains better than the beach? Am I Republican or Democrat? Am I Church of Christ, or....? Or what? What's out there!? I wasn't abandoning what I believed as a child, I just didn't know what they meant to me as an adult.

I felt the full weight of my naivity. Where is North? Where is home? What fits? 

Fast forward to 2015. I'm married, about to have my second child and have been living in our first house for 2 years and it didn't feel like "home" yet. For years I had been told to stop trying to figure it out. Just follow my feet. "You know what home is, Tab." Honestly, I didn't. I say that in true sincerity. I was grasping at straws, asking for help with a problem that, with 20+ year of experience, began to seem imaginary.

Now for the crux of this whole article. Neither do many of you! Think about it. As best you can figure, home is where your holidays are, bed is, family is, culture is, language is, etc... We all depend on something outside of ourselves to identify home, but not all of us struggle to feel confident in what home IS. 

I'm writing this article from the back porch of my parents house in Lumberton, Texas. I have never lived in this house, let alone this city, before. It's not home in that sense. I don't have life-long relationships in this city, outside of my parents. But if we weren't family, I probably wouldn't hear from them often with how much we all have moved around. Distance is a cruel and uncooperative factor in relationships. That's how I figured it out. I solved the mystery. If home TRULY can be had by everyone, surely it's not as tangible as I've imagined this whole time. Home cannot be taken away from you. Home cannot be burned down. Home cannot be sold or bought. Home cannot be inherited. Home cannot die. Home cannot kick you out. Home cannot insult you. Home cannot move on without you. 

Home is an experience. Home is where you dance silly. Home is where the comfort food is. Home is where you laugh until you pee yourself. Home is where you stay up late playing spoons. Home is where you feel safe. Home is where you are enough. 

I have it. I recognize it now. I have claimed it. And I'm taking it with me. I am going to share it with more of the people I love and fuel it. I am so excited about this revelation! 

>I< am home! 

Not Good Enough

Over the last few months I've been learning the ropes of raising two highly affectionate little girls. My oldest's name is Gemma. She was born on the anniversary of our wedding ceremony and in all of her extroverted goodness, has been "stealing the show" ever since. My youngest, Reia, is just now 3 months old. As a former foster family we aren't strangers to having a fourth body in our home... but those other babies weren't breast fed or co-sleeping, so this little one has had a few tricks up her sleeve that are new to us.

My girls are the most enormous gift I can imagine. I frequently just stand in awe and admiration of God's skill and generosity. I also frequently feel that I've screwed up. I miss the mark. I under appreciate them or behave in a way that will undoubtedly scar their memories of me...

I am not good enough. 

When noon rolls around... "Nap time!" but two diapers need changed (because oh yeah, I haven't managed to potty train my toddler yet) and one needs nursed, the other needs her chicken nuggets reheated... I situate the toddler with edible chicken, grab a cup of water and make my way to the couch to finally nurse the fussing 3 mo and I hear a sippy-cup hit the floor. I sit down on the couch and begin nursing anyway, after all, "natural consequences teach kids about real life..." But while I manage to open my youngest's mouth wide enough to get a proper latch, I am tense and shout "Hang on!" in frustration as my toddler repeatedly shouts my name and maneuvers herself into a position so painful that she is now in tears and cannot free herself. Now tears well up in my eyes, with my baby still nursing away... I spiral: "The natural consequences of NOT giving her back the sippy-cup that she threw will now create this nuclear energy spike that, if not addressed soon, will result in a 2 hr tantrum, followed by a late nap, leading to a late bed time. And we all know that kids who don't get enough sleep go on to have lower test scores and never move away from home..." (oh how funny these panic moments seem in hindsight.)

I am not GOOD enough. I am introverted. My oldest is extroverted. I have to guard my energy like food in a famine when she is awake. She will absorb every single last ounce of my good. She fills her bucket by socializing. The yin to my yang. If I don't guard my energies, I have nothing left.

WHEN I mess up, am I still enough? 

You see, I, like other human beings, come with flaws. I need daily alone time, an amount of time where I am disconnected from people. This need becomes messy when you throw children into the equation. Some days it just doesn't happen... someone misses their nap time, or someone gets sick... what do I give my kids when I haven't had an opportunity to fill ME up? What bucket do I draw from? And what do I have to offer myself?

• Sometimes I go with my serious bucket... "Maybe If i just become stoic I won't snap at them!?" 
• Sometimes I go with the panic bucket, "Are you kidding me? I'm allowed to be responsible for children while in this condition!? Everyone gets room time!" 
• But sometimes I go to the grace bucket... "Gemma, I know you really hoped to have XYZ, it's pretty disappointing to go without what we want... but if we work together it will be ok."

I am enough.

I'll never always be GOOD enough. But I am ENOUGH. Do you see the difference? I accept that what I have to offer may not always be "good" or "perfect" but because of Grace, it's always enough. And on the days when I have run out of "good" to give myself, I reach for the grace bucket... I deserve heaps of grace. He is enough. Because of Him, there is enough to go around; thank God my success doesn't depend on me. Daily he says to me "Tab, I know you really hoped to be more today, it's pretty disappointing when we go without what we want... but if we work together it will be ok."

Oceans

If you have read my other blogs, you know that I have been writing a series focusing on the song by Hillsong United, called Oceans. It didn't occur to me until today that "Oceans" is plural. I chuckled to myself as I made a host of new connections immediately following. When I hear that word with this realization, it takes on new meaning. An ocean, singular, is unique. It's a new adventure. It has new challenges. Even visiting the same ocean twice will feel different... because we are different. Maybe we have aged, we have overcome these waves before, so we may spend more time contemplating the sand or observing the horizon. So when I hear the word oceans, pluralized, I hear something huge. But I will come back to this shortly.

The last 6 weeks have been... wow. Since the last time I wrote to you all, I am just amazed at how much life has transpired. We welcomed a beautiful baby girl on August 14th, after 4 weeks of what would be considered "early labor" contractions and long nights. I spent a lot of time trying to pace myself, rest and soak up my life as I knew it. 

I was blessed to have my mom stay with us to help make the transition easier and entertain our sweet Gemma when I was 41 weeks along and READY to have a baby. You see, I have had a baby before... Been to that "ocean", got a great souvenir :-). However, I also came away a little wounded. Over the course of my pregnancy I made MANY conscious (and sometimes uncomfortable) choices with the goal of having a healthier and more positive birth experience this second pregnancy. I know that nothing I did could guarantee that I would have the birth that I wanted, which is why I focused on taking care of the "scars" from our first birth and investing in a healthy mom and baby (as far as it depended on me.) The rest I gave to God. I have visited this ocean before, but it was a different season... I had a new pair of eyes this time and a knowledge of how vitally a healthy birth AND positive experience would play into my long term health.

Reia weighed 9lbs even and was born in a record 2 hrs of true labor. She was born at home (insert Jim Gaffigan joke here) and I was blessed to be able to "catch" her myself. Everything I knew about this ocean was old news... This was a whole new experience. It was beautiful and healing.

This is where the true revelation about the word "Oceans" came about. Moments after Reia was born I attempted to nurse her for the first time, only to realize she had trouble latching on, upon examining her mouth our midwife realized this was due to lip and tongue "ties." My heart sank a little. You see, this too is an "ocean" I have experienced before. Breastfeeding was increasingly more painful and within two days I experienced bleeding. We were using all the tools in our tool box to deal with this... Just two years ago we dealt with Gemma's lip and tongue ties and similar issues that followed. To put this in analogy terms: These waves SUCKED, the sand was stuck between my toes, I wasn't wearing enough sunscreen and I got stung by a jelly fish... this ocean was not an ocean I wanted to visit again. 

"Your grace abounds in deepest waters. Your sovereign hand will be my guide. Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me, You've never failed and You won't start now!"

These oceans aren't puddles. They aren't piddly little lakes, guys. These are mountains of water. These are familiar, but never predictable.

As I observed the ocean ahead of me, noticing that Reia's ties were definitely going to be an issue, I became emotional. The first time we were in this place, we didn't know what was coming. We didn't know it would mean gallons of tears from myself and Gemma. We didn't know that people wouldn't understand and would diminish our experience. This time, I could see the waves for what they are... I felt the hot sun, I remembered the strong current. I didn't want to be here again... but I WAS here. And I AM here. This ocean is the same, but wisdom and experience (and PLENTY of help) is helping me to navigate these waters for the second time.

Some oceans are intense, challenging and exhausting... but some are incredible and exciting adventures. Having two beautiful gifts from God to call my own is proving to be an extremely magnificent adventure. Between the tantrums and dirty diapers, nap schedules and snacks, laugh attacks and lullabies, night time prayers and morning kisses... the ocean I am in right now is worth the work. Most importantly, I am worth the work.

This life of mine is a gift. The many oceans I have seen, touched, endured, surfed and dog-paddled in... they are my life... and the secret to truly enjoying a life full of oceans is simple...

"Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. Let me walk upon the waters wherever You would call me. Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior"

The Great Unknown

Hey friends!

This may very well be the last blog post I write before our second child arrives. I'm due anyday now! 

My heart feels calm.

I am not talking about "prepared," though arguably we are quite prepared as we have had two children before. The calm that I feel is because I don't know what is on the horizon and I find that exciting. I have never met this little person before. I don't know what they look like or how they smell. I don't know if they will sleep all the time or keep us up at all hours, breaking glass with their screaming. I don't know if they will be perfectly healthy or have their struggles. 

I don't know. 

But that is beautiful to me. It makes me feel closer to God. Because HE does know.

I think back on the 26 years of life that I have lived. I have memories from when I was 3, awaiting my baby sister. I knew mom's belly had grown, but I had no idea that she would soon give birth to my competition 😉. I definitely didn't know that she would give birth to an incredible person that (with time) I grew to appreciate and now love, 23 years later. 

I had no idea that being the 4th of 5 children would mean that I rarely spent time alone and rarely wore brand new clothing. I had no idea that these things would just create a stronger bond between myself and my siblings as we are unafraid of sharing our hearts and lives with each other. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I had no idea that our crazy, busy household would fill me with so much compassion for those who are in need of family. 

I didn't know!

I had no idea that my freshman year of college would be one of the hardest things I've ever done and one of the loneliest years of my life. I didn't know that I didn't know who I was... And that was horrifying, but was exactly what I needed.

People. I didn't know.

I feel calm because I may not be in control of the future, but I am in control of how I look at it. I set the boundaries today that become paths tomorrow. My perception is on a leash, I can make the most of what comes... Even if what comes SUCKS. 

The great unknown is terrifying and exciting. It's wild and mysterious. It will be hard and kick my butt sometimes, it will stretch me and grow me and scare the hell out of me... But when I think back on where I have come from, I feel calm knowing it's always been out of my hands. 

That's the true secret to feeling peaceful: Being wise enough to know I cannot control ____. But being brave enough to live knowing that ____ can only control me if I let it. 

This week that blank is "becoming a mother of a second child"... Next week it may be something else. 

Get used to being in the unknown. That's where God really works His magic.

Have you listened to Oceans, by Hillsong United recently? This is the second-to-last post in my series of blogs inspired by this song. Take a listen, listen with your heart!

http://youtu.be/DGRz2BJQRXU