day 6: i'm thankful for....edited to add

 {Whoopsie, I totally winged this and did "Something that makes me happy," instead of "I'm thankful for..."  In either case, I limited it to my time-constrained answer, and today, I'm realizing there is a hell of a lot more to put in this post than that which was originally here.  Updated words are in teal.}

My family. {makes me happy.  See also, I'm thankful for....}

In the Colorado mountains (pictured here, Rocky Mtn. Nat'l Park, Cub Lake).

Yeah, we have a lot of drama.  Yeah, family is hard work.  {and so is hiking to the real treasures of the Colorado mountains.  Worth it?  ABSOLUTELY!}

But at the end of the day, nothing makes me feel better than a big bear hug from Kelsey, the latest pop song being echoed by Colton, Christopher's goofy antics or Seth's never-failing humor.

This magical combination of: them + the outdoors = my personal nirvana.

I'm thankful for God's unfailing love for me, especially when I'm clinging to the fear that He's not really there or that He doesn't really care for me.  Yeah, I've had a season of doubt and desert wandering.  It's been intense.  And Satan, that expert manipulator, used someone in the church's good intentions to hurt me and catapult me further into this questioning.

And then God, used the kindness of someone I barely know to raise me up and remind me, bad things happen to good people and life sucks that way, but we can choose to let it keep us down or we can choose to help others going through similar hardships.  I needed that as much as I needed this prompt in things for which I'm thankful.

I'm thankful that despite some rough at-home behavior, the overall product of our family is kids who are loving and kind and thoughtful.  I'm thankful for check-ins with teachers that validate the work is paying off with them, even if I'm one of the last ones to see it.  {we had Kelsey's Advanced Learning Plan meeting Monday, followed by Parent-Teacher conferences the rest of the week}

I'm also thankful that the week of crazy meetings is over and we are back to our regularly scheduled program.  :)  {oh middle school, you and your 8 teacher schedules...}

I'm thankful for Fall in Colorado and the beauty that greets me every day.

I'm thankful that after some slipping up with health and wellness, my two best buds, Seth and Sarah, are taking their on steps to fitness journeys.  It is inspiring, motivating and has helped me get off my duff and make sure I'm eating thoughtfully again.

I'm thankful for my spiritual family and the tremendous strength I am able to draw from them, even without them knowing it.

  

Better Late Than Never, Right?

I, uhm, seem to have fallen behind in a lot of things lately.  It is hard to keep up with all of the kids at home 24/7!  Kinda miss school, but not terribly.  My kitchen floors, however?  Miss school in a BIG way.

Saturday was my IL's 40th wedding anniversary, y'all - can we get a hearty round of applause for that?  That is a serious milestone in today's day and age, no?  They're very real people who work for a love that shows, not all Ward and June and yet not that loveless couple that trudged on through, either.  They've been a great example to us of how to keep on keepin' on and have a good time while doing it.  We'd have loved to have been with them for this milestone, as previously was entertained, but the cashflow was an issue.  Besides, our inability to go lent us the opportunity to stay and be part of our church's marriage seminar (it is SO GOOD!!!  Life changing whether you are single, married, divorced, in a struggling marriage or one that rocks your socks...if you're local and want to know more, just shoot me an e-mail!) that kicked off yesterday - giving us yet more tools to match my husband's parents in longevity of matrimonial bliss.  Seth got to talk to them last night, while I was on a night run with a friend from church, and tell them both how he felt about their abiding love and its impact on us.  I did not, so better late than never - 

I love you too Mom and Dad.  Words fail me to describe the blessing you've been to us.

Also sitting on my to-do's was a tag that Headless Mom sent my way, about a month ago.  Can you believe me?  It's terrible I know.  SOooo...I have to answer her questions and then come up with my own...I may just answer the questions she gave me as so many of my bloggies are either on sabbatical or I have been lurking and not participating on their blogs much.

1- Which celebrity to you want to tell to "Shut up, already!"?  

Hmmmm...all of them?  Seriously, there aren't that many Hollywood voices that I listen to these days.  A few years back it would've been Tom Cruise in his whole public denouncement of post-partum depression and psychiatry in general.

2- What is your favorite happy hour drink? 

I do love a good margarita, white zins, and never met too many beers I didn't like.  But lately, I've been so health conscious that my happy hour drinks are the same as my all day drinks: WATER.

3- What is your favorite thing to cook/bake?  

Hmmmm.....I like to cook, so picking a favorite is going to be hard.  Probably homemade bread, it's so rewarding and smells the house up nicely.

4- What is one thing that you wish you had more time for?

Well, it's not so much that I don't have enough time for it, rather than I let other things come before it - but I wish I spent more time in prayer and meditation with God and His holy word.

5- What is the FIRST thing you would do with a jumbo lottery jackpot?

Give to my church so that they could pay it forward what was done for us last year.

6- What song/artist do you always turn off when it/they come on the radio?

I listen to Christian radio pretty much exclusively these days, so there's not much objectionable content, but I really don't like Mandisa's voice/style and will usually flip to another station when she comes on bellowing about it only being the world.  Also?  Michael W. Smith's New Hallelujah gets the click of death from me too.  Love him, hate that song.

7- What one household chore is your favorite? (Or at least the least hated?)  

Going with the least hated approach, vacuuming.

8- What is your favorite flower?

Oh dear....I love flowers of all kinds.  Not sure I can pick just one. I have a thing for big showy blooms like lilies, clematis, peonies, etc., but for smells it is hard to beat lilacs, roses, or honeysuckle.

9- What food do you like that most would say "Eeeeew!" to?

Spinach smoothies.  Almond milk (sweetened vanilla is really yummy, but plain is good too), honey, banana, spinach and ice = a clean tasting green for the palate.

10- Is there something that you refuse to blog about? Why?

Hmmm....I don't know if there is a topic I REFUSE to blog about, but certainly there are some that I tend to avoid now - marital strife and/or family fights between the FoO or the IL's .  Why?  Because I used to freely vent about them here and when the blog got more public that was very hurtful.  I'm a lover not a fighter.

Well....as for tagging more, think I'll pass for now.  

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

One Year With You

My overdue 1st birthday letter to Christopher.

Dear Baby Christopher,

I've started and stopped this letter so many times.  There's so much to say.  My heart overflows.

While you were still just a prayer in my heart and had yet to take root in my womb, I knew you would change my life.

Your sister had...your brother had...I knew you would change me too.

What I didn't know is how you would change their lives.  I mean, it's granted that the addition of a family member changes the dynamics for everyone...

But they got more than a new brother out of the deal - they got a new Mama and Daddy too.  And your impending presence spurred on these changes that took place within us.  Without you, who knows?  I could still be the shrewish mother prone to emotional outbursts at the drop of a hat, and your father could still be the insecure man striving to keep up with the Joneses that he was.

Taking our family from 4 to 5 was a giant leap of faith for us.

It meant I had to quit finding my identity in my accomplishments in the career world and start finding my identity in the Lord and His purpose for me.

It meant prioritizing what was of utmost importance - our family, you kids - and trusting that God would honor those priorities with His Providence.

It meant letting go of what I'd envisioned my life looking like and [Carrie Underwood reference in 3..2..1] letting God take the wheel and drive my life, our lives.

While a mother doesn't have favorites among her children, they do each lay claim to unique niches in her heart, solely for them to possess.

You, my dear boy, are the embodiment of faith and God's promise [and fulfillment] of restoration to me.  You were borne out of the restoration God worked in my relationship with your Daddy, conceived in our re-commitment to the Lord and renewed love for each other.  That alone makes you special to me.

But then there's you.  The reason for your being is endearing enough, but your actual being, your essence...personality...whatever you wish to call it... those things that make you you... I treasure them just as much, if not more in my mother's heart.

You have, since birth, had the most expressive face of the three of you kids.  It's your eyebrows.  You furrow and raise them so adeptly that one need not see the rest of your face to know what emotion you're currently wearing, but add them to your soul-gazing eyes, only to dress your face with that ever changing wardrobe of smiles, grins, frowns and everything in-between, and you have a very telling visage.

You are intuitive, even at this young age, and seem to know that as my last baby, I need you to stay little, to cuddle lots, and generally be content.  In all seriousness, you are a peanut (just like your brother!) you do love to snuggle, a trait which I am all to happy to oblige, and you have been a very easy baby.

Maybe it's because you have two older siblings, or maybe you're just brilliant (methinks a bit of both), but you seem to already play with other children, as opposed to the commonly seen playing among other children type of play early toddlers embrace.

Your primal glee smile, the one with the mega wattage, is a sight I never grow weary of - even if it is while you race up the stairs after I've told you no a hundred times.  I remember Kelsey smiling this way, but Colton never really did - he always had a gleam in his eyes when happy that never quite made its way to his lips - so I'm glad to see the return of a smile that lights a room up in you.

I love watching you learn new things - like connecting the dots that an up and down motion of the wrist makes people smile, wave back and talk all sorts of nonsense to you, except when you do it to me at 5:00am in my bed, as you've done the past two mornings.

You love animals.  LOVE them, and you have a special animal sound when you see anything furry or feathered - though I think it is an attempted bark [i.e. woof woof] it comes out as 'who who,' and is generally chorded such that I begin to sing the theme song* from CSI.  Every.  Time.

These things that make you you, son, are just the beginning.  Your list of you things will grow as you get older and acquire more proprietary characteristics, and I can't wait to get to know each and every one of them.

Happy first year, baby.

Love, 

Mama

* I'm well aware that the Who would probably cringe at me identifying their song as "the theme song from CSI" as it's raison d'être, that the song existed long before the show; however, my son probably will not make this distinction if he ever reads this letter in the future.
© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Who turned up the busy?

Holy smokes y'all.

It is that mad dash to the end of the school year and dang, we got busy!

I'm so sad about that too, because I had a great Not Me Monday [still in my head], replete with a bedroom disturbance whilst things were Happenin'.  Oh yeah, it would seem that locking the door doesn't do much if the door isn't latched shut.  But hey, at least my sons know Mama and Daddy really do love each other, eh?  :snort:

And I thought I would just get it pounded out (the NMM post) on Wednesday and rebrand it as Wasn't Me Wednesday, but as you all know, that didn't happen.

Kelsey's behavior of late has been a crazy cocktail of sensory issues + emerging hormones + sheer stubbornness of late and just two nights ago, I became a raving lunatic over it.  Seth was at a worship committee meeting that night and I'd.  HAD. it. up. to. HERE!!!! with her disrespect.  So I totally lost it on her.  :hangs head in shame:  Thankfully, my wonderful husband knows how difficult she is and after I'd called to vent [during a meeting, I mean what was I thinking?!?] and got stuck leaving him a VM, he came home with flowers.  This is your cue to all collectively go "Awwww...." seriously, leave it in your comments, lol.

I've made some good eats over the past few weeks and have totally been wanting to resume Foodie Fridays, but haven't made it there yet.

But, what I have done is reclaimed my house.  I have maintained it at a high level of clean for 3 weeks straight and it feels SO GOOD.

We've also gotten back on track with our finances, PLUS someone turned up the busy at Seth's place of employment as well as side jobs and that bodes even better for our wallets, as well.  Praise God for that!  And, I'm back in contacts as a result - which is so good because I really do prefer to run with sunglasses when the sun is SO BRIGHT and lovely.  Note to God, not a complaint, keep pouring the rays out!

I have some ideas in the back of my head about future career/financial plans that I'm toying with.  And now praying about - please, if you're a praying sort, send some up asking for God to reveal His will for me and our future (we're talking when Chris goes to school here).

Speaking of Christopher...his naptime's over wail is on - so until next time.

© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

And Then We Were Five

One year ago, you entered our family.

Due to what would happen just days after your birth, I never did get around to writing your birth story.  And I'm not about to let the fact that you're the third, or that Mama nearly died when you were a leeetle baby, or any other reason keep you from having what Kelsey and Colton have - my candid record of just how you came into this world!

(As an aside; this is not in lieu of a birthday letter, because that is coming too - will be up before the week's end)

You were born on a Saturday.

The Wednesday prior, I had my 39 wk check-up, and just about cried in the doctor's office.  I'd had a few episodes of contractions and had signs of impending labor for weeks, yet had only made, maybe, .5 cm progress in 3wks.  We discussed induction at that appointment, but opted to wait and see if the doctor roughing me up a bit would suffice at getting you on your way out.  Later that night, it appeared that it was going to work.  I had contractions 5-8 minutes apart for HOURS and threw up my dinner before church due to the pains.  But it was all for naught.

On Thursday, Daddy and I walked, and walked, and walked, among other things, but uh, you probably don't want to think about that!  And I contracted, but nothing regularly.  By day's end, we'd called the doctor's office and scheduled your eviction.  We would induce on the morning of Saturday, April 25th.  You were "due" on Monday the 27th, but our doctor was sympathetic to our plight.

I nested all day Friday with Daddy's help.  The excitement built.  It was so different.  With your sister, I went in with complications and we had a medically necessitated induction.  With your brother, he poked a hole in his bag of water somewhat early but then had second thoughts about coming out.  With you, we picked the day and knew you'd be here that day.


On the big day, knowing that we were headed to the hospital to meet you, I got up, showered, and put make-up on.  I told Daddy that since I knew what the drill was and hadn't with your siblings, I figured at least my "just delivered" pictures with you should at least be pretty!  I asked him if he thought that was silly or vain, and lucky for him, he assured me that he thought it was perfectly rational and understandable.  It was his third time around the pregnancy block, he knew that hormones needed appeased by now!

Nana and Papa had come up and stayed the night with Kelsey and Colton, so we said goodbye and took a picture before leaving.

Daddy and I drove to the new hospital in which you were born and wondered aloud how things would go.

We checked in at 7:00 am.

After paperwork, undressing, getting hooked up and all the other rigamarole that is hospital admissions, it was about 9:30am before the pitocin began to pump.

The doctor on call was not my normal doctor, but she was ok.  We didn't really see so much of her as we did of Brenda, the amazing L&D nurse we were assigned for the duration of the induction.

Nana and Papa came in (they'd gone to a health fair with the other kids), and soon Grammy and Gramps followed.  We watched tv and played games.  Kelsey left to go to a friends' birthday party in the area.

Around noon, the doctor came in and asked how I was feeling.  Pretty decent, I told her - the contractions were really not bad.  She frowned at that and told me she'd hoped to hear that I was starting to get uncomfortable by now.

At 3:00, I was starting to really feel the contractions and was breathing thru them rather than just riding them.  I'd told Brenda how with Colton I fought the pain for so long, avoiding the epidural because I was progressing slowly and I feared stalling once an epidural was administered, yet once I finally had gotten the epidural, I went from 4-10 in an hour and a half.  It was at this point that she reminded me of this, as well as the fact that since I had low blood pressure, I would have to take IV fluids prior to an epidural being administered (to avoid me passing out as BP dips with an epi) and that would take a minimum of 45 minutes.  She encouraged me to stay ahead of my pain, and not let it go to a point that that 45 minutes of IV would be too much.

The doctor came and checked me, and I had gone to 3 cm, I'd walked in at 2.5 cm, in the 5 1/2 hours of pitocin.

Brenda's words won out.

I got the IV, and at 4:15, my epidural was administered.  They broke my water at that point, and I immediately dilated to 4 cm.

4:55 - check, great news, you're at 7! 

Before Brenda got to input the data from the doctor's examination into the computer, I told her that I was feeling a lot of pressure.  And that was because in just 2 seconds* I was at 8.  She was going to call the doctor back in, because she had a feeling I was going to go fast from here.

* that's what it felt like anyway.

Sure enough, I was at 10 before the doctor's equipment was fully laid out.

Your heart rate had some decelerations during the peak of the contractions leading up to this point, and after I began pushing, the doctor and Brenda exchanged a Look that frightened me.

"Heather, you need to push this baby out as fast as you can, ok?" ordered the doc.  "This is baby number 3 and should be old hat."

I pushed, 3, maybe 4 times? 

You crowned and there was a hush in the room.

And then you were out.  It was almost effortless, which seems an oxymoron for any labor.

But it the triumph of an easy delivery was overtaken by the fact that my baby was silent.

My heart palpitated in limbo.

Why isn't he crying?  Why isn't my baby crying?!?  C'mon baby, just cry!

They took you away and rubbed you and spanked you and suctioned when, F.I.N.A.L.L.Y. you cried.

I realized I'd been holding my breath.  My heart surged with joy.  The endorphins pushed play from their paused state and my body buzzed with elation and fatigue.  I looked over at your Daddy and we cried.

At last, they placed you on my chest, and I kissed your face.  You shivered and trembled on my torso as I too became wracked with tremors.  You were devoid of the waxy vernix and carried the rusty musky scent of the sanguine birthing fluids you'd just bathed in.  You had so much hair, and clearly red hair at that too.  The wives tale about heart burn held true on this one!

Your skin was so dry in appearance, cracked and flaking off with scratches everywhere.  We'd find out later that your appearance was that of a post-term baby - so who knows if you were actually overdue or if I just cooked you a little warmer than appropriate?

The doctor questioned how I felt, and I told her that I felt great - that it was the easiest birth yet and of course it was great to be holding the prize at long last :).  She told me that a lot of women hated people like me, that she didn't just mean the easy birthing part, but that she bet you were over 9lbs and here I was saying it was easy.  I thought she was off her rocker because you seemed small-average to me.  We have this on video tape, too.  Which is funny because she was way off - you weighed in at 7 lbs 2oz.

You did give us a scare though, the heart rate decelerations were because you had your cord around your neck twice and also around your chest and tucked up under your armpit.  Your early APGARs were low, but the second ones were good, thankfully.

You nursed like a champ when we got to it, which was when Kelsey and Colton came in to meet you.  And your grandpas, and uncles, etc.  Grammy and Nana were in the room at your delivery, so they let everyone get a good look at you before they held you.

Kelsey gave you your first bath, with the aid of the nurse.  And, while I was already in love with you, it was breathtaking to see her give her heart to you in those moments.

Colton's "moment" came with you the next day.

You captured our hearts forever on the day you were born.

From thenceforth, we were five.

Happy Birthday Christopher.

 




© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

His Only Redeeming Quality

This is Porter.

He is our 2 1/2 y/o, balls still intact (hopefully not for long, however, muahaha), springer spaniel.  He is a PAIN. in. the. :insert word of your choice here:.

I've written about him before.  And never very lovingly, because I TRULY hate this dog about 99.9% of the time.

And I'm a dog kind of gal, really.  I love my Gracie girl.

She is mature, well trained, and docile to a fault.

Porter is like a doggy version of Cornholio. (On a particularly unrelated sidenote: Kelsey has recently taken to wearing her shirts over her head a la Cornholio, though she is totally ignorant of the significance, and it has caused me moments of great comedic relief).  He is manic, has no spatial awareness (the dog steps in his own crap in the yard when there is just ONE pile - every other dog I've ever known will step around, regardless of speed), poor table manners and is generally sociopathic.

Lately, he's taken to flying out the door as an introduction to the dog equivalent of a high speed chase.  Only I'm usually barefoot, wearing flip flops, or dealing with some other major speed obstruction, which makes it more like a tank chasing some dude on a crotch rocket.  Yeah, that's fair!  And this is, without fail, always, ALWAYS (why yes, it isterribly redundant to precede two, increasingly emphatic always' with the words "without fail," but you see, I am trying to make. a. point. here!) Right. Before. We. Must. Leave.  Whether we are seconds from dashing to the bus stop or about to load into the car, invariably these are the times when the door gets opened by one of my errant children, and Porter makes his break.  And, some 15-20 minutes later, adrenaline coursing thru my veins by way of unadulterated FURY, I am finally able to return with my vagrant canine.  And inevitably late.

These escapades have me feeling even less love toward my wayward mutt.

But last night, while cooking dinner, I caught a brief glimpse of affinity for him in the back of my mind.

Christopher was giggling, those baby belly laughs that make everything in the world stop, and I stood, transfixed, as I watched my baby claw, pull hair, bite, and lay on this dog whom I loathe.  Porter just layed there and took it, with a twinkle in his eye and an occasional lick to renew the gusto with which Christopher played.

Porter is not my dog.  Nor is he Seth's.  No, we got him because he was meant for Christopher.

Thus, like a mother-in-law, I love Porter because my son loves him and is made happy by him.

(Aaaargh...would insert a melt-your-heart picture of Chris w/Porter here but it is on my Laptop's harddrive, and Laptop died this weekend!!!)


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Brain Dump - Intimacy

It's been FAR. TOO. LONG since I last blogged, and that was such a downer of a post I left y'all with too, huh?

I have a BUNCH of things that I have been meaning to put into well-thought, organized, themed posts, but I fear these thoughts may wind up lost so I'm dumping them into one tangential, rambly, brain-dump of a post.  Y'all will still love me anyway, right?

1.  Re: Intimacy
There are a few things to say here, the very first of which is to say that things here are reliable, they are okay, and consistent.  And my post last Tuesday was not to say that there is a lack of fire or desire, but rather that my... er... appetite... has increased, and not been completely satiated of late, which has left me wanting more, and to address that would require a change.  And change is hard, particularly change that is communicative in nature.

We've been attending a Song of Solomon class at our church on Wednesday nights this quarter.  It's not our first trip thru this video class with Mr. Tommy Nelson, but the third time in 13 years that we have gone through it.  It's THAT good!  Last week's class was on the wedding night (Chapter 4-5:1) and the thing that hit me squarely in the heart is how tender the man is and how much he expresses to his wife what her body does for him (flock of goats vernacular aside, when decoded it is quite erotic and very to the point).  And this is not a cheap, trashy romance novel, filling women's heads with some unattainable image of Prince Charming who is so romantic, THIS IS THE WORD OF GOD!!!  Meaning, God knew that women needed reassured by their spouses that they are in fact beautiful, so he devoted a whole book in the Bible filled with examples of a godly man doing so.  Someone made the point that a woman is very vulnerable when sharing her naked body with a man for the first time, and thus a man ought to honor that and reassure her with his realization that she is sharing her greatest treasure with him.  And I agree.  BUT....and this will give you a peek into my heart's struggles, I contend that a woman is vulnerable EVERY time she is naked (or nearly so while wearing some gauzy/lacy/fill-in-the-blank underpinning designed solely for her husband's eyes) particularly after the effects of gravity and/or childbearing have taken some toll on her body, and especially when she's worked her tail off to reverse some of those tolls and taken care to showcase them in the bedroom.  :ahem:

When such efforts seem to be taken for granted, or not even to make a difference, insecurities begin to creep in.  And so, if there are any men reading this, here's your homework: Tell your wife what her body does for you.  Even if she's on the saggy and baggy side of things, if you tell her that you love that her belly is where she housed your children and from where her greatest gifts to you came, it is appreciation and some affirmation.

Finally, our weekend away in Estes Park was Awe.Some.

We were surrounded by some of God's great creationary beauty

great lodging

 

fabulous friends

and had some really good, thought provoking teaching and discussions about our relationships with each other.  I treasured the break out session for spouses to cover their personal Top 5s from His Needs Her Needs (disclaimer - I think that the needs, as laid out in the book, are fairly gender stereotyped, but the exercise we did let us personalize them and rank them for ourselves...my top 3 was typically a "male" need, lol), which was not new to us (having done a Dynamic Marriage course in 2005) but needs change as your environment does and it had been awhile since we'd "checked in," with each other on this.  It also gave me the ability to share some of what I wrote above with Seth in a relevant, intimate, and non-hostile context/setting.

Hmmm...well on second thought, this looks like a singular post rather tied up on intimacy, no?  I guess the other stuff will have to wait.  That's it for me now.


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Better Together

I don't normally do Love Thursdays, as I have a hard enough time keeping up with the themed blog posts I participate in, but this fits, no?

Open Letter to my Husband,

I've been thinking a lot about our story since my sister's wedding.

How it started.  
Me, still a child at 16.  You, just touching on what it meant to be a man instead of a boy at 20.  

How it has threatened to end prematurely over the years.
My senior year in high school, when I thought we'd moved too quickly and that there were other adventures to be had [namely with a certain older man], when I questioned what we had before us.


Years 5-9 of our marriage, while you wrestled with yourself and God and I felt like I couldn't take anymore; while I took on too much and tried to juggle work with home.  

How we've added to the cast and now have three beautiful children.
Each of which means so incredibly much to us.  It's hard to find the words.  Really.

How our characters have developed and grown into the people we are today, through God's stretching and pulling, life breaking who we were and putting us back together.
During those early years you seemed so wrought with insecurities, to the point that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy.  I wished you would let go of those feelings of inferiority you had, as they were based upon what the world said made you a man, and let God make you into a better man, the man I thought I was marrying all those years ago.  How I no longer wish that, babe, because you are that man who finds his security in the Lord each day.  


I imagine you feel much the same way about my own transformation, my own struggles and victories with my inner demons.  And this past year has been a record-breaker in that regard for me....both of us, really.  


I am so proud of the man you are and strive to be each day, and thank God for continuing to shape both of us along the way.  I watch you with our children and see your desire to connect with them, teach them, and instill the important things of life with them, and feel so blessed.  I see how hard you work, and the integrity with which you go about your work and I'm honored to be your wife.

How truth really is stranger than fiction.
Especially when we consider the miracles God has worked in our lives over the years, how our Truth is foolishness to the world.


How being with you not only makes me want to be better, it makes me better.
There's wanting to be better, like Jack Nicholson in As Good as It Gets, and then there's actually being made into a better person.  I'm especially better with you when it's simultaneous to me drawing nearer to the Lord.  We're better together, all three of us.

How I'm glad traditional wedding vows were written into our story.
(Lest anyone reading this take that as a slam on my sister's wedding, it totally isn't.)  I'm glad that you and I vowed to love each other in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse, etc., because we have been through all of those, in varying degrees, over the years.  And it has paid off holding true to those vows, especially for better or for worse.  


How this story is still being written...
And while a lot is yet to be unseen still, one thing I know:
We're better together.  
All 6 of us.  
lest anyone think that is a pregnancy announcement, that is: 
Seth + Me + God = 3              Kelsey+Colton+Christopher = 3
and last I checked  3+3=6 






You have my love, dear.  Until my heart stops beating.


© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Day of Affirmations

Monday was a treasure of a day, you know, that rare day that you wish you could laminate, tuck into your back pocket and stare at on hard days?  Like a sobriety coin or the serenity prayer or some other such token designed to give both a reminder and moment of perspective.

It came on the heels of an abnormal Sunday.


Normally we go to church and worship our God with the greatest church family we could ask for, but alas, Colton had awakened me at o'dark-thirty Sunday morning with that pungent smell that makes a parent gag at the prospect of the work to come: VOMIT.  Thus, we remained home, opting to keep our GI bug to ourselves, because we are loving and kind and thoughtful like that.

I was beyond tired, as I'd had to change the sheets, try to scrape the big chunks off the dirty ones [blech!!], go downstairs and rummage through the bowls to find a suitable repository for future episodes, and then tuck my little guy back into bed, only to not so much later be awakened by a feverish and coughing baby.  This mom job has got some wonky hours.

I'd used Sunday to get a TON of housework done and scarcely sat down except to eat, drink or use the bathroom.  Meanwhile, my husband obliviously looked on and was perfectly content to laze about, lifting nary a finger of aid, with the kids watching TV for a full day.  That sly ole witch Resentment tiptoed into my mind.

"Why is it that you had to give up your sleep AND do all the work?"

"Shut up, Resentment*.  He works 50+ hours of manual labor a week to keep the roof over our head."

"Yeah, well you work hard 24/7 with no holidays or anything!"

* This is purely for your literary entertainment - as crazy as I may get from time to time, I do not ACTUALLY have conversations with personified emotions.

True enough, I thought - but I've been trying so hard to keep a peaceful and content perspective and just be a good Christian wife - so, I let it go, albeit with a few heavy sighs, as I tend to do.

---
Monday arrived with gorgeously clear blue skies - with none of the clouds that had uncharacteristically been plaguing the Colorado skies for nearly a week.

That alone was a dose of positivity to my soul, let alone the warmer temperatures promised by the forecasters.  I'd not been able to get out and run but once in the previous 2 weeks.

And seeing Kelsey beam from ear to ear as she carried in her homemade birthday cupcakes to class, because now that I'm staying at home I can make time for those special touches that I couldn't when I was working.  That smile spoke volumes of affirmations to me, the junkie of all words of appreciation love languagers.  Those affirmations said, "It is right that you are staying at home, even if it is hard at times.  It is making such a difference to them.  Et. Cet. Er. A."

When the baby and I got home, I spent some time in the Word and prayed for my prayer group friends, then set about tidying up the kitchen for a bit.  And there she was.  Resentment, grinning at me and begging to come in and dish about all the things husbands do wrong and why can't they just help a little bit without having to be asked?

I looked at the clock and noticed the outdoor temp was well above 30 degrees, and with the sun, well, "Resentment, check you later," I said, "I'm going for a run to clear my head."

The air felt so pure, so quenching to my lungs that hungered for something more than the stale air of the indoors.  The sun steeped me in energy and I could feel the cells within me come alive.  I had my baby, my music, and my God with me and all was right in the world as I found my rhythm.  The songs on the Slacker playlist were all up tempo - Third Day's Come Together pumped me up and we were off, well on our way to outpace my usual mile time.

I silently told God that I didn't want to have these feelings of resentment - that I knew we both did a lot to contribute to our family and that it was all part of the tradeoffs - woman stays home and man decides she has more time to do things around the house, that going out and making a living is all he has to do, that he's off the clock when he comes home.  Even if it isn't exactly true, I could see how things could get construed that way. I prayed for a peaceful and amicable resolution.

Midway through my second mile, after my first long hill, my phone buzzed with a text from Seth:

Sorry I was such a slug yesterday, but thanks for letting me be one.  First Monday in ages that I feel totally rested.  <3 you, S.

It was ex.act.ly what I needed at that moment, and my heart soared.

I love you too babe.  So much. 

And the tears of gratitude welled in the corners of my eyes as my cheeks turned upward.

My thoughts turned heavenward - Thank you, Father , you've done so much in us and for us these past few years - always, really, but especially in the past few years.


The rest of my run was good.  Could've been great but seeing as I was low on sleep due to Sunday's events and that I'd run hard on Saturday and was still sore, I maxed out fairly early and only made it 2 1/2 miles instead of the 5 I'd been working toward.  I walked the remainder of the loop and returned home, free of Resentment's haggling.

Awhile later the phone rang.

It was Seth.

"So my Dad called..."

Oh no - the stupid car loan bank called them since they are a reference on the loan.  Great.


"And their church has decided to send us a check to help with the finances."

"What?!?"  Tears were now falling down my face, as I'd just been looking at our checkbook much like the widow with the oil must have looked at her oil jar - not worried, but knowing that it would eventually run out, and soon.

"How great is our God, right?"

No kidding.  He has been SO GOOD to us, always, but especially this past year in all our trials, He has been with us all the way and taking care of us so faithfully.

And how He loves me (and you, and you, and you) - so much that he gave me a whole day with affirmations JUST for me, whom he knows by the hairs on my head, so why wouldn't he know just the tricks for me?

I like days like that.

Plus, I had GREAT hair after the shower I took to rid myself of the running stench.

Does it GET any better?



© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

It Doesn't Hurt...

Seth is not as addicted to observant of the e-mail as I am.

Nor has he ever really read my blogs without first being told to do so.

Which means, he did not look at the Invisible Woman e-mail his mom sent the other day, entitled "FW: Merry Christmas, Please Watch."

Last night, he sat down and looked at the e-mails in our inbox and he points to it, and asks me, "This any good?"

While it is the kind of e-mail that is easily relegated to the genre of "chick flick," I told him, "Yeah. It is."

Afterward, all he said was, "I see you too, though often it is in hindsight. Thanks for all you do."

And so ladies, perhaps that might be a reason to forward the e-mail on to all the men in your life - as they might need a prompt to tell their special lady who feels none so special, invisible even, something similar.

P.S. Note he WATCHED the e-mail, which means the video not the text one. This is important when sending to men!



© 2006-present Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

A New Level of Marital Miscommunications

So, Charlie Brown and I are pretty tech savvy, right?

Yesterday, I had a pretty crappy day. I was so stressed about medical bills vs. income we had coming. Compounding this stress was the fact that my hormones were flying high as I [TMI in aboout 3, 2, 1] was on day 2 of my second period since Lil Guy has been born. [Sidenote: I know you're thinking it - she's like what, 3 mos postpartum and she's had not one but two periods already?!? I KNOW!!!] I'd cried most of the night before and several times yesterday as well. Charlie Brown had called me a few times during the day, all of which I ended up crying during.

Later, I received the following texts from him, right in a row before I had a chance to respond. My thought responses are below, however. Prepare to be entertained

CB - Wanna play tonight? Only 2 conditions...

Indignantly, Uhmhm, I have now I have confirmation that the man never listens to a word I say! I told him that I am "otherwise incapacitated" this week.

CB- [I] know you can do all that, you like a challenge

:chuckles: ok, well, let's see just what he has up his sleeve, even if it's all for naught.

CB - 1. hour of 100% positive encouraging words and body language towards everybody on the field, 2. Doing what I tell you if I need to (prolly won't)

At this point I was stymied and automatically sent a text back to him:

RR - ????? Is this meant for me???

But upon further analysis, I had the following thoughts:

1. I know I've been down today, but c'mon don't you think I can pull myself together for your softball game? It's kind of sweet though. And 2. What kind of kinky stuff are you thinking about, anyway? Dang, boy!

Right about then, he called me. He says, "Our friend sent those to me, as conditions for subbing on their team tonight. It didn't show that it was a forwarded msg?"

Nope.

So I told him what had been going through my mind as I'd gotten each text, and he got a good laugh out of it.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

I Think I've Lost My Voice

Not physically, as in laryngitis, but as in my writing identity. Hence my absence.

And really, I hate to admit this because on thinking about just what my writing voice has been, it has kind of embraced the victim mentality for way longer than I'd care to own up to. Not the woe is me and life sucks victim, but the I've been wronged so I'm gonna be an angry advocate former victim voice. For so long my voice was that of THE (as in consummate) red-headed step-child, the outcast, a woman spurned; misunderstood and needs unmet. My writing was my way of seeking validation from others as I so desperately needed to be heeded, attended to, understood and well, HEARD.

But, what I'm finding is that my marriage is meeting more of those needs than it did before. As are my friendships as I now have time to invest in little mid-day rendezvous (I hope my memory of French plurals isn't failing me, as I REALLY wanted to tack on an es to that word) to cultivate face to face friendships.

I'm not as angry, don't feel like I have as much to prove as I used to, and also, the fodder in my brain makes me feel like I was turning into just another mommy-blogger. Not that there's anything wrong with mommy-blogging, but lately it just feels like I don't have anything new and fresh to add to the mommy-blogosphere.

Finally, there's also the fact that I'm suffering from severe placenta brain. My [big] words elude me with frustrating frequency.

Example: A month or so ago, Charlie Brown showed me a truck that had been customized with a hand-crafted tailgate, bumper, etc. One of his co-workers had designed and built these parts. A few days later, I met him while visiting Charlie Brown at work. My brilliant conversation with him?

"So you're the one who does....that...stuff! You know, custom stuff with metal?"

He looked at me with his brows raised and nodded slowly, like he was dealing with a mentally retarded woman.

"Oh, you know, that stuff - what do they call it? You know like on American Chopper?"

Charlie Brown stepped in with the missing word, "I believe you're thinking about fabrication, right?"

Bingo.

And that's just one time - it happens with alarming regularity and lends my writing to sounding like a 5th grade book report. Not exactly up to my normal snuff.

In the meantime - here are the things that have been happening at Casa del Meyer in my absence:

-Punkinhead's Parent/Teacher conference included School OT and a request to have him tested and evaluated as to whether a 504 plan is in need. Primarily they are concerned with his fine motor skills as pertains to handwriting, which is an issue. Punkinhead is very bright with letter recognition, phonics, and actual reading. But translating that knowledge via his hands just doesn't come easily for him and it does make him frustrated and say things like, "I'm just dumb!" I was all for the testing - until a comment was made about wanting to screen his attention issues too. My kiddo does not have ADHD, lol. He's a BOY, one of 14 boys out of the 18 total kids in his class, he's a SOCIAL kiddo, and he's a July birthday which means he is considerably younger than the rest of his class. His breaks in focus are likely more due to those issues than an organic one. But we'll see what the testing shows.

-LMNOB turned 8 last Sunday and suddenly the tween switch was flipped, in conjunction with some "OMG!ThebabyiscomingSOOON" anxiety and the results have been less than pretty. Tantrums and discord are back and I am NOT PLEASED with this.

- Charlie Brown continues to be the BEST HUSBAND/BFF ever to this pregnant mama. He has been so supportive and such a rock for me. I totally do not get his sexual attraction for me at this stage, as I am tired and therefore not taking great strides to care for my appearance, and uh, HUGE. But who am I to question it?

-We've all had a cruddy cold season. My last post was about kids taking cold medicine, and just 2 wks ago we had another bout of colds and ear infections here.

- As a result, I had protein in my urine 2x last week and the doc was concerned about pre-eclampsia, but happily everything was skewed because of my cold and all is well.

- We are on the countdown for the little dude's arrival. Only 7-ish (I am 32 wks 5 days) more weeks!

- Oh and the movie Fireproof? Totally worth seeing. The acting starts out a little B-movie quality, but it is the plot that makes the movie, not the acting. I also love the fact that Kirk Cameron's real wife came in as a double when there was a kissing scene. Charlie Brown and I both cried like babies watching this show.

I think that is a wrap. I'll try to be on more - it's just finding this new voice that I need to work on.



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

2008 Recap

On Christmas morning, Charlie Brown gave me a beautiful card with words that touched my very soul with sentiment so rich and meaningful that I cried. Following the card-maker's verse, in his own scrawl were the following words:

Our best year yet and there is more to come! I love you so much, Heather, and can't wait to see what the future holds for us.
Love,
Charlie Brown

He's right, 2008 has been our best year yet and things just continue to look better for us. What a blessing it is to be able to say this!

On the marriage front, we celebrated our 10th anniversary in 2008 - and honestly, it's like a different world since hitting double digits. We've weathered some serious storms in our years together and at times I thought our ship was sunk, but miraculously through prayer and divine intervention, we've managed to stay afloat and cling to God and each other. Charlie Brown has experienced tremendous growth this year (emotionally and spiritually that is) and makes me feel like that clichéd woman who's always asking, "How did I get so lucky?" A stark contrast from just a year ago.

On the family front, LMNOB and Punkinhead became schoolmates this year and what a difference this has made in their sibling relationship. They are now very close and play so well together. On the flip side, they now know how to really push each other's buttons and do so periodically, but the perks totally outweigh this. Seriously, LMNOB has often been found to say at dinner that her favorite part of the day was "Seeing Punkinhead at recess." And that just melts my heart.

Another family matter is that of baby #3. We thought we were D-O-N-E, DONE, after Punkinhead, but with my IUD having 10 good years before we needed to do something permanent, Charlie Brown had been in no rush to, ahem, "lose his balls" (as they so delicately put it in Marley and Me). While we were on our 10th anniversary vacay this past summer, we decided that we would start trying for another baby after we returned. And being fertile like we are, he pretty much looked at me and I was pregnant. I'm now on the verge of my 3rd trimester and he'll be here before we know it (or have a name selected for him to bear). The pregnancy has been harder than the others were, but Charlie Brown and the kids have been so good to me that it all balances out.

On the career front, God led me to make another sharp 180 in my thinking. My last day with the City was December 19th. And now I am a SAHM - you know, that thing I thought I could never sanely be? But I needed to return to this. Juggling FT work, LMNOB's special needs, a desire to work with them in their schools, my master's degree program, marriage, housework, and all that other domestic stuff just wasn't cutting it. I was having more and more difficulty staying sane doing all of that than I ever had while being a SAHM. So it was time to re-prioritize and the health and well-being of my family and me came out on top.

After having made this decision, the opportunity to work with lia sophia came up and I took it. I get to keep fabulous jewelry for myself and make money for my family, in addition to keeping a social outlet - what could be more perfect, right?

On the LMNOB front, her sensory issues are still there, but as she's matured this past year she has gained more self-awareness and the ensuing ability to recognize her own signals and meet her needs independently, with less and less adult intervention and/or structuring. This is HUGE!!! After the big school transition this year, we cut back on the OT and just last week we saw BT the OT for our discharge session. That was bittersweet, as she has changed our lives so much for the better with regard to parenting LMNOB and better family functioning. But, as she reminded us - we have her e-mail address and LMNOB is welcome to write her anytime, and we can also schedule a drop-in, consult session with her for addressing transitions and/or other issues that may arise at anytime.

As for Punkinhead, he's quite the character. Full of energy ALL. DAY. LONG. and ALL BOY. He is something of a schemer, prone to drawing outlandish conclusions when he doesn't get his way (i.e. "Punkinhead, no video games right now," "You don't wuv me!") just to see if he can weasel his way into doing whatever he wanted to do. As frustrating as that sounds, he is my sensitive little guy - first to apologize without prompting, always hugging and loving on us, and lover of the babies in our lives. He's a charmer on either side of the coin for sure.

It's been a great 2008, and I'm looking forward to a divine 2009.

:groans: Bad, I know - but I couldn't resist!

Love to all!




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

I'm so sick of this....

My in-laws, bless their hearts, are of a different political persuasion than I am.

Ok, that's allowed, right? I certainly think so, even if I don't really understand the other party's POV/MO.

What I am SICK to DEATH of, though is the constant bombarding of my in-box for their politically charged BS forwards about my candidate.

Just once, I am waiting for an original, moreover, factually-based commentary of their own, not some insipidly anonymous rumor-mongering e-mail that clings to fear and uber right-wing talking points.

Hey, I was reading on factcheck.org or some other such credible source that your candidate was not totally on base in xyz claim - what are your thoughts on that?

Yeah, that's not gonna happen. However, being a planning kind of gal I'd best prepare an answer for such a question:

Wow! You mean I don't have to go to snopes?





© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights R
reserved

Less Words Wednesday

Anyone who knows me knows that I can't be wordLESS. So my compromise is Less Words Wednesday.

These were snapped up last night while I was reading bedtime stories. My "frown" is because Punkinhead went from wanting to kiss my belly to wanting to do a "belly buster" - they tickle!

The Jury will kindly strike the record: As to yesterday's quandary - I'm waiting. Things are definitely awkward right now and yesterday I got the ramifications of her own personal stress. Not going to add to it at the moment. See new post.




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

I'm all verklempt...all the time

Part of pregnancy, I know - but man, it's been awhile.

My kiddos are the greatest - and what's sad is that they don't often hear this. But no longer.

Same with Charlie Brown - the things that have come out of his mouth this week are so mature, so loving, and so tender that I can do little but soak it up. I am consciously trying to remember to voice my appreciation for his insights, in part because I should but also to ensure that he keeps this up!

Thanks all for the wonderful words of encouragement yesterday. We are super excited and pleased and just giddy all around.

Now - I leave you with LMNOB's awesomeness, displayed Friday night at Red Robin.

A Raiders/ Titans game was on and she goes, "Is that team," [the OAK at the scoreboard] "from Oar-Kansas?" (Pronounced like Arkansas)

Dude, we laughed and laughed, but in the pit of my mind, I was thinking, this is what No Child Left Behind has offered us?

Heaven help us all if we have little GW's running around in the future because public ed is in the tanks.



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Pillsbury, we gotta talk....

I totally get that you have the patent on Poppin' Fresh, but somehow I think your convenient little pressurized cans of dough has got NUTHIN' on this:



Ok, so I know you are thinking, "So what, a pregnant woman - they all pop out."

But what if I told you that that picture was taken tonight, after having gotten a shadow line - read: a total phantom that I dug out of the trash - yesterday, with the first REAL positive being achieved just moments before writing this post?



Yeah, that pop is pretty damned fresh. Pillsbury, you ought to be impressed!

And we are pretty damned excited.

This is the secret I alluded to awhile back - we decided to try for a third whilst on our soul-searching, love reuniting anniversary vacation last month. My IUD was promptly removed upon our return, and voila! God has heard our request.

May we rise to His challenge of faith. He's already shared glimpses of this promise to us in so many ways.

Baby #3, you are our little love child, and we love you already.

I can't wait until late April!




© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

The Best We've Ever Been...

Last night after coming home from work, Charlie Brown pulled me onto the bed (fully clothed and not at all in a sexual manner, mind you), and held me close.

He told me, "I don't know what has happened in these past few months, but I cannot stop thinking about you. All day long, I just want to be with you, to see you, talk with you, touch you. I've never been this in love with you before."

I murmured back that I had the same sentiments.

He added, "I'm the best I've ever been, too."

Puzzled, I asked him what he meant.

"Well you know, in regards to our history. It doesn't even cross my mind - well, you cross my mind and that gets kind of naughty..."

"But that's perfectly ok, we're allowed to think about each other that way!" Turning, I looked into his eyes and said, "Thank you. You didn't have to tell me all of this, but that you took the time to means a lot to me."

About that time, Punkinhead and LMNOB crashed the party and we had a group-hug fest on the bed.

My cup overflows....



© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

To Everything There is a Season...

I haven't been writing as frequently here lately. No, the title is not referring to some upcoming blog hiatus, some announcement that I've learned I need to call it a season on this blogging thing.

Rather, I've been wrestling with myself a bit. Shocking, huh? Heather, shadowboxing? Nah...

Anyone who's read here any length of time knows that I'm kind of a planning nut. I get visions of the future, of goals that I want to achieve and all of these subsequent expectations about just how things should go in getting there.

God has shown me time and time again that I'm a pretty silly girl for doing this. And I know that I shouldn't, I mean hello, HOW many times have I read James 4:13-17 and thought I was taking it to heart? I'm feeling a bit lot sheepish. As much time and effort as I put into these "plans," He's derailed me several times just to make His point[s] apparent to me.

Right now, I can just see Jesus saying, "Well, Pops, you know that Heather, she's a bit dense..."

"Boy, don't I know it too....Mmm-hmm," I can see Him clucking back. Then to me, He says, eyebrow cocked expectantly, "Honey, why dontcha take a look at that verse again, mmm-kay?"

Lately this inner wrestling match has had to do with my purpose in life.

I mean, I know the basics: I was made to love/honor/glorify God and also to love my neighbors during my stint on earth.

I know that God created me to be wife to this marvelous [albeit still very human] man I have, (ladies, he COMPLETELY cleaned the downstairs this weekend, without being asked, and THEN, DETAILED my CAR – which virtually had things growing in it, it was that disgusting, thus this feat was no small favor. He was the Acts of Service King – and you know what that means? He Luuuuuuuuuuuuuuurves me!) and mama to our precious kiddos, but somewhere along the years, I have added to these purposes my own understandings.

I’ve written on here before that when LMNOB came along, our marriage was not so great, and the finances were even worse. This tends to happen when you take two very broken people, mix them with the irrational mindset of youth, stir in an unplanned pregnancy (read: emotional taxation and bills as never known before), add a college graduation (read: still more bills as never known before, and a loneliness never previously experienced by one Ramblin’ Red, whose friends all got glamorous post-college careers and moved away), et, voila! Mass chaos, confusion and disillusion with life.

I had to go to work, financially, but truthfully? I wanted to go to work. I was going to be someone, damnit! From the time I was very young, I had somehow gotten it into my head that I had to BE[come] someone worthy of being loved, missing the point that I, just as God created me, AM someone worthy of being loved. Even now, I know the goodness of the latter truth, but comprehension of this wonderful reality proves elusive at times still.

Singing, ♫ ♩

Just as I am, without one plea
But that Thy blood was shed for me….
Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt,
Fightings and fears within, without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

Ahem, uh, hi, yeah, sorry ‘bout that…. ;-)

So, as I was saying, when I went to work, it was out of both financial necessity and a desperate attempt to find myself. Also, in effort to find respite from LMNOB’s then-undiagnosed sensory issues that presented in a she’s-just-REALLY-high-maintenance form with which I found it difficult nearly impossible to cope. Throughout the years, my employment has waxed and waned from full-time to part-time. I managed to negotiate a schedule that virtually gave me the freedom to be a FT SAHM to the kids during Punkinhead’s first year of life. It was my way of saying, “I DO love these kiddos, and I want them to bond with me, rather than a daycare provider, when they are still so little!” My thought was that if we bonded that first year, then child-care providers would later be distinguished by the kids as “not the real deal.” (Note – that’s a personal preference for ME – I do not judge others who’ve used childcare with their infants – you know what is best for you and your family and I am totally aware that there is always more to the story so I don’t even go there)

Four years ago, I went to work at my current position, at what was then a part-time, albeit much higher-paying/better benefitted gig. We had just bought our home, and health care had begun its sharply inflated climb – thus, this was a necessary maneuver for our needs to be met. As it would turn out, this job would meet more needs than we could have ever anticipated at the time. Somewhat indirectly, with the aid of counseling benefits I acquired at this job, my marriage was saved. And then LMNOB was diagnosed with SID (again because of our previous connection to our particular counselor, who would not have crossed our path had it not been for my counseling benefit, available thru my employer) and life looked totally different, in a good way, again.

I saw God’s Divine intervention unfolding like a scroll, and felt peace about working out of the home, seeking a career – to do His work, I justified- , and all of it, including the exorbitant costs of paying someone else to mother my own children (how I ever got at peace with that I’m not quite sure!). I felt that if God had done all of this stuff through my work, then surely that meant He wanted me to work. Period.

Except that, over this past year, God has been whispering into my heart a new desire: to be at home, full-time with my children. LMNOB’s sensory stuff is hard and exhausting to keep up with, and truthfully, I’ve just not been cutting it this summer. Punkinhead’s behavior has at times become antithetical to that which I wish any of my children to display. But most of all, Charlie Brown and I have been slacking in discipling our children to seek God first in all that they do, to learn about Him and His ways, to grow their own faiths as time keeps ticking them closer to being on their own. (BTW, time, STOP! I’m really not ready!)

For a long time, this longing was latent – there, but undetected, and haunting me. I think that this dissonance between my conscious self and the suppressed craving to be the mother God has been molding me into, has actually been masquerading as depression. I’ve been out of harmony with the Will of my Heavenly Father and rather than having the insight to realize this on my own, I numbed it with medication. To help me see that this tugging is more than what met my mind’s eye, I believe that He’s orchestrated a series of events to help me see that yes, He did plan for me to work, and He even worked through those efforts, but I was to work out of the home FOR A SEASON.

For a season – duh.

Nothing in this life is forever, nothing but Him and the Precious Savior that He gave to me.

So when I had a freakout moment about 6 weeks ago and later found a job that would help me to accommodate that still-covert yearning in my heart to be with my children, my blinders started slowly coming off.

I was really confused when it didn’t work out because I’d thought that it was so right, that surely it had been a sign from God. Well, it was, I think… But now I see that perhaps it was God’s way of warming me up to this idea of staying at home again. I’m reminded of the line in John Adams where Abigail said, in effect, that men prefer to think they came up with ideas presented to them, rather than being told what to do/think. Methinks that women do too.

Throughout the years, I’ve made the statement that I just wasn’t made to stay at home. That I lacked the patience, the maternal skill, etc. I think it was equal parts circumstantial truth (i.e. with LMNOB’s sensory stuff being undiagnosed, parenting her was incredibly hard and I was constantly yelling/frustrated/upset due to the extreme stress of it, thus I wasn’t cut out for it – who would be?) and protective rationalization to keep myself from being the tortured mother who wants to stay at home but needs to work for financial reasons.

Now that we know how to cope with LMNOB’s issues (sort of – as already I am anticipating some heavy preventive work relating to the teen year hormones combining with her “touch hunger”), coupled with the accrual of age/maturity since first having children, changes in our marriage relationship, etc., life is different, and could be even more different still, were we to make this jump my heart was now considering. I was awakening to the feelings that I am ready, willing, and excited to reclaim my children and be more of who they need me to be – the mother God intended for me to be.

These ruminations were all fine, all just an idealistic fantasy of my own – but the real test would be what Charlie Brown thought too. I needed to confer with my husband – who has tended to prefer the comforts of abundance over the sacrifices of simpler living at times. While on our vacation, Charlie Brown and I talked at length about our family’s future in this regard, among many other things. Surprisingly enough, we were on the same page for once, and set about planning as to how we could make my wish to stay home a reality.

Our only bump? Health care coverage. But, seeing as we’ve decided on a plan, GOD WILLING, (yes, I know, James 4:17) to pay down our debts this year with a target date of me quitting work about the time that the kids get out of school, we figure there is plenty of time to pray and seek God’s blessing of provision.

Then, bolstering this little spark in my heart into a consuming flame, a couple of weeks ago, a dear sister at my church approached me, calling out my heart re: my WOHM v. SAHM debate. I’ve been called out on this issue many times before, with not so gentle reproaches, but this time was different. Her message was long (indicating a great amount of thought and consideration) and asked tough questions, but it was seasoned with the wisdom described in James (heh, yeah, it’s a good book, on of my favorites) 3:17-18: she had pure intentions, was gentle with me, and was open enough to dialoguing with me that she was willing to yield about parts of her message that struck me as somewhat painful. Regarding the latter, she clarified for me where she was coming from in a godly attempt to make peace, and when all was said and done, I left the experience having felt completely blessed for it.

We shared this leap of faith with our life group last week, and one of the girls (we’re in the young adults group, I can’t say “ladies” when she’s the same peer group as me!) told me about MediShare. It’s this amazing Christian health-care ministry that is EXACTLY what we are looking for. One of their folks called me within a few hours of my web inquiry, and I’m totally stoked about joining them as I’m nearing the end of my tenure at my current employment.

I know I sound all Pollyanna Christian with all of this, but trust me, I’m still the same Heather. Still smart, still spunky, unconventional and slightly rebellious (read: God’s still shaping me). Still fatally flawed. And I’m still going to be talking about life very openly and frankly, because seriously, life isn’t lived delicately, peeps!

I feel at peace. For the first time in a very long time. Ever, maybe? Because for once I’m not steamrolling my way through life according to my own understanding/analysis. I’m resting upon the Lord and have I mentioned that I’ve never been so at peace?

And back to the purpose thing. Not to sound all conceited or anything, lol, but God’s blessed me with a gift for writing, and if not with content then at least with the ability to create prolific amounts of interdependent words, eh? I fully intend to explore venues that I can use that gift for good (and for income, for my family) as I begin the new chapter in life as a SAHM.

Anyway, that’s what I’ve been up to lately. Lots of soul-searching. Lots of re-connecting with my Father. Spending lots of time with my kiddos and my husband, reuniting as a strong family unit. It’s LOVE all around, all this stuff I’ve been doing.

And LOVE never goes out of season.

© 2008 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved


P.S. I spent upwards of 20 hours this weekend doing housework and laundry (note how laundry gets its own designation) and for the most part, I was not crabby at all. That is a true work of God, y’all. And my house is BEAUTIFUL because I cleaned with a cheerful and peaceful heart!