My Baby is Probably Going to MIT

I had a complete epiphany this week. Grace walked up to me in the kitchen, paused, and then just froze staring up at me. Her neck was craning so she could see all the way to my eyes. I stopped what I had been doing and was mesmerized by how calm and mature she looked. And then the realization smacked me in the face. Where did my baby go? It seems like all in one moment my baby is gone and has been replaced by this little person who can think, run, and have opinions of her own. She’s accomplished so many things for the first time in just a few short months.

Many of a child’s “firsts” are very memorable, surreal moments. I’ll never forget the night when Grace took her first steps. Her eyes were beaming as she caught the proud gaze from her parents. As she carefully took her hands off the side of the couch she squealed gleefully while tottering from one foot to the other. For us parents, the ‘firsts’ are our opportunity to see our once completely helpless infants begin to experience the world on their own. The first time our children do something is also extremely crucial to their development because they are constantly watching us to see how we react. They want to know if what they just did was a good thing or a bad thing. Our doctor described it as “baby scientists.” She said everything they do all day is just one experiment after the other. How does mom react when I hit the dog? If I use sign language to say, “Please” will I get what I want? So, when our children have their “first” moment, they may be initially proud of themselves for discovering something new, but ultimately, they are looking to us to decide what the outcome of their experiment is.

Sometimes it feels like my little scientist is a pint-sized genius. I wouldn’t be surprised if she grows up to be a real scientist someday after all the experiments she performs on a daily basis. One morning in particular I will never forget because she concluded one of her greatest experiments yet. We were all in church together during worship time and Gracie’s dad had lifted his hand to praise the Lord. As Gracie was being held in her dad’s arms I literally saw her eyes go from him, to his outstretched hand, and then to her hand as she tentatively raised it in the air. The second I saw her worshipping the Lord for the first time it made my heart leap with hope that one day she would knowingly understand what she was doing. As I watched her little hand gently sway back and forth I gave her a smile that immediately told her what she had done for the first time was a very good thing. Now whenever we go to church and the music starts, her hands go up in the air and she gets a very proud look on her face.

Some of her ‘firsts’ were incredibly easy to decide how to respond because they were undeniably awesome achievements. A few that will forever be on my top favorites list are her first words, first steps, and first time dancing. Another exciting first happened recently when Grace and I were out running some errands. A woman who was walking by stopped to wave at Grace and admire her toddler cuteness. Grace just stared at her for a moment trying to figure out what she had done to warrant such praise and attention. She hesitantly chewed on her finger as she assessed the woman’s face. She had no clue the woman was just admiring her for being a little one. When she finally realized the woman was excited about something she had done, without any warning, Grace took a deep breath and exclaimed, “HIIIIIIIII!!!” It was quite endearing because her voice did this roller coaster of inflection as she elongated the word. It was her first time greeting someone and based on my applause, she will be sure to do it again.

This week I got to add one more milestone to my ever-growing list of favorite “firsts” but I wish I could tell you I had responded differently. Sometimes I can be proud of myself for helping to teach her to praise the Lord or say "hi", but I’m definitely not perfect. As she continues to explore and experiment, there are just going to be some times when I may accidentally teach her something that is not necessarily socially acceptable.

One of these “failure” moments turned out to be pretty hysterical, and if it comes back to haunt me someday I hope I can just shrug it off and chuckle. I was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my Kashi cereal while Grace made her usual morning rounds to check in on her “My Little Pony” stuffed animals. Her favorite thing is to carry all of them at once and weave in and out from under the table. As I ate my cereal, enjoying a rare moment of uninterrupted peace, I caught sight of Grace from the corner of my eye. She had paused momentarily directly under the center of the table because she had dropped Twilight Sparkle. As Gracie bent forward, her tummy was just barely protruding from the bottom of her shirt. She had to bend pretty far over to reach Twilight because she was already carrying such a load. As her tiny fingers finally reached Twilight’s purple mane, I could hear her audible grunt as she reached with all her might.

Her exertion proved to be just a little too much for such a tiny body, and right there under the table, for the ‘first’ time Gracie farted. Not just a harmless, infant-sized puff of air, no. The sound that came from her with such a force was something that sounded like it should have only come from an adult-sized person. I could have chosen that moment to simply ignore the offense and hope she didn’t catch on that she had even made the noise. But of course, that’s not what happened. The large bite of cereal that I had just plopped into my mouth came hurling forward as I burst into a fit of laughter. I can still feel the sensation of the cold milk dribbling down my chin as I tried to catch my breath.

The second Grace realized I was laughing at her she edged herself closer to the side of the table. She wanted a way to claim what she had just done and solidify that I was encouraging her bodily function. Her comedic timing was perfect as she popped her head out from underneath the table and giggle-screamed, “HIIIIIIII!!!!”

Is it the end of the world that I just taught my little scientist that loud farts will be rewarded with fits of laughter? Probably not. I have a false hope that she’ll keep her flatulence within the comforts of our home, but even if she does decide to extremely embarrass me by farting in the grocery store or during a sermon at church I suppose I’ll just have to bank on the hope that everyone, deep down in their heart of hearts, thinks toddler farts are funny.

What have you accidentally encouraged your toddler to do? Let’s hear it!

Blessings,

Shantastic

My Baby is Lois Lane

One of the most endearing things about my husband is that he loves superheroes. He’s not into collecting the comics but he gets lost in the stories of the characters. When we met I readily jumped on his “super” bandwagon because I knew fictional stories about people(and aliens) with superpowers would be full of rich storylines and exciting adventures. However, being the hopeless romantic that I am, I would get annoyed with my superheroes when they would pull their lame stunts like, “We can’t be together, it’s too dangerous.” I always wanted to throw my empty popcorn bowl at the tv and scream, “DUDE! You’re a freaking SUPERHERO! What could YOU possibly be afraid of??”

I, of course, would never deny Gracie my love like the superheroes often do. However, after looking into Grace’s eyes for the first time and feeling my heart double in size, I did finally start to understand where they were coming from. When Gracie entered my life she completely changed my understanding of what love really is. One of the most recent things she has taught me about love is that loving someone makes you vulnerable. When you have a child, the kind of love you feel makes you vulnerable to a point that your world would literally crumble into dust if anything bad ever happened to them. I think that must be why the Super guys are always trying to protect their gals by saying they can’t be together. If they openly love their leading ladies then they know their enemies will target the people they love, and that makes them vulnerable.

Obviously, with Grace I have a different situation than the Superheroes. I don't have to deny how much I love her. Thankfully I don’t have to distance myself from her because of a villainous bald guy who’s after me with a grudge. Grace is here, I love her, and by loving her, that makes me vulnerable. You know that gut-wrenching feeling of fear and worry you got the first time you let someone else watch your baby? That’s the kind of vulnerable I’m talking about. It’s irrational but it’s real. I wonder if the powerful superheroes worry about their leading ladies in the same way? Next to their super strength, speed, and magical talents, their loved ones probably look just as helpless as our babies do to us.

Some superhero’s origin stories detail the account of their initial struggle to accept their great responsibilities. With Gracie it’s been quite different; I’ve willingly accepted my calling of being her Supermom and protecting her the best I can. One of my Supermom responsibilities includes swooping in to save her as she is about to fall off the side of the couch. BAM! Supermom to the rescue! I’ll make sure your food isn’t too hot so you don’t burn the roof of your mouth! POW! Have no fear, mommy’s here!! I like being the one to “protect and serve” her, but sometimes I find myself wishing I had an energy source like Clark Kent does, something that could keep me from worrying about her all the time. When he is weak, all he needs is a quick dose of energy from the sun and he’s back to fighting crime with a force. How am I supposed to keep up with my Super-duties when she starts to venture off into the world? What about when she goes off to school? I’m pretty sure Supermom doesn’t get to tag along to Kindergarten.

I recently heard a humorous quote where a writer was asked, “After becoming a parent, at what point do you stop worrying about your kids?” The response that was given was the same response I think most parents would say, “never.” Worrying about your kids will probably always be every parent’s longest standing battle. Instead of defeating “bad guys” like the Superheroes I often find myself locked in a ring with my arch nemesis: worry. 

I try to conquer my worry by being her Supermom, but I hate to admit that I don’t possess the superpower to conquer it on my own. Left to my own devices I would allow myself to be completely consumed with worrying about her. I’ve always struggled in my life with trying to not worry too much and my love for her has made me even more vulnerable to it. I’m finally starting to realize that I need a source that comes from outside myself.  In the same way that the energy from the sun fuels Clark’s superpowers, I crave something in the Heavens that is bigger than myself. I believe I can finally conquer my worrying ways if I seek God and rely on Him to help me conquer my great enemy. Do you remember how I was talking earlier about how much I love Grace? How my world would cease to exist if anything ever happened to her? A mind-blowing truth that I believe in is that God loves her even more than I do. Why should I worry if the God who created the entire universe loves my little girl more than I will ever understand? Worry may be my Kryptonite, but God is my sun.

Epilogue: Oosta! This week’s post was a little heavy! I kept keeping my eyes open for a fun moment so that I could share a lighter perspective of motherhood this week but this idea of a love-induced vulnerability kept weighing on my heart. Maybe deep down I wanted to express it because I secretly wanted to know if I’m the only one who struggles with worrying for her child. I can't be, right? So, other moms and dads out there, do you ever wish you could just keep your kid locked up in a perpetual bubble of safety? Of course, I know that you have to live to grow, you have to hurt to heal, but oh…the worry that tries to creep in….I would never make it through the day if I didn’t have my sun.

Blessings,

Shantastic

My Baby Plays a Symphony

When I found out I was pregnant, I was only a few weeks along. I had taken the at-home pregnancy test and then was given another urine test at our eight-week appointment. It wasn’t until week 12 that we finally got to hear what we had been holding our breath for. Our baby had a heartbeat! Once we heard her heart beating, we could start to dream about her life. 

A few days ago I was moving through a typical pattern of my simple, yet magical days with Grace. As I put away the dishes she munched on her breakfast. I constantly have music playing at home because I love how music can reach into our lives and inspire us, touch us, and encourage us to be better. A song started playing by one of my favorite singers and my ears perked up because I had never heard it before. I started to “jam” along to it because I was connecting with the content. It’s a song about living life to its fullest and not wasting it- dreaming big, and not settling for less. The lyrics draw a parallel “between the dead and the living,” as the writer sits in a cemetery feeling inspired to not waste her life. Part of the meaning of the song is meant to be obvious. The bodies in the cemetery are dead and the people in the city behind her are alive. But I think what she is really trying to say, is how many of those people bustling through their busy lives are really alive? How many of them are just breathing in and exhaling, going through the same motions day after day?

“You said, remember that life is not meant to be wasted. We can always be chasing the sun. So fill up your lungs and just run, we’ll always be chasing the sun.”

I'm in love with the message of this song because I want to chase the sun. I want my life to mean something. I want my days to be full of life and learning and not just be someone with a heartbeat, but someone who lives. A few days ago I had a moment with Grace that could have just been a monotonous encounter but it turned out to be simply beautiful. As a parent, you change so many diapers, wipe so many noses, and try to soothe so many cries that sometimes those moments just blend into the next.  I don’t want to be one of those “bustling through life” people so I try to see the life in every moment, but at 2am, I figured I was in for another same old experience as I was woken from my cozy slumber by her slowly escalating whimper. I don’t look forward to our midnight rendezvous because as much as I wish it would be a time for us to cuddle and for her to fall asleep in my arms, it usually turns into me holding her for a few minutes until she calms down and then her screaming bloody murder the second I lay her back down in her crib.

As her whimper turned into a full-on cryfest I groggily pulled myself out of bed because after 17 months, I know which midnight cries require mom and which ones don’t. This cry was definitely a “I need some milk before I’m going back to sleep” kind of cry. As I gave her the milk and we sat in her rocking chair, I was starting to dread what was about to come next- her wails as I put her back in her crib. But as Grace finished her last gulp, God decided to wake me from my zombie-like state and remind me to be present in my moments with her. Once her bottle was empty, without any hesitation, she fell asleep in my arms. She has always been an incredibly light sleeper and she hasn’t actually slept in my arms since she was just a few months old. I relished the warmth that emitted from her body and smiled as I heard the rhythmic purr of her breath going in and out, in and out. My favorite line from the song, “and the gift of my heartbeat sounds like a symphony” echoed in my mind as I listened to Grace's symphony that proved to us so many months ago that she was real. It was the proof we had needed to give us hope that she wouldn't just be a heartbeat but that she would live.

Since having Gracie there is one piece of advice that has been said to me more than anything else. Whether her and I are out at the grocery store or on a walk, people constantly stop me to say, “Enjoy this, it goes by so fast.” I realized pretty early on in motherhood that what everyone was telling me was true. It goes by so fast. I refuse to waste the ‘gift of our heartbeats.”

We will spend our days “Chasing the Sun.”

Blessings,

Shantastic :)

P.S. If you are curious about the song I referenced in this post then I invite you to listen to the beautifulness that is Sara Bareilles, and sing along as she encourages you to "always be Chasing the Sun."

My Baby is a Parrot

When I got pregnant I daydreamed about which stages of our kids’ lives I was looking forward to the most. It was easy for me to decide which stage I knew would come the most natural to me. Bring on the tiny poopies, fussy tummies from too much gas, and perpetual spit up, because I love babies. Babies are awesome because they’re itty bitty balls of cuteness that you can spend hours just staring at. They don’t judge you, they don’t think you’re weird, and they don’t resent you if you are having difficulty figuring out what they want in that moment. You just try your best to fulfill their needs and they’ll reward you with smiles and warm baby cuddles.

The ceaseless crying of a newborn doesn’t phase me much and even though I complained quite a bit about having to wake up in the middle of the night to breastfeed Grace, there was something really special about being the one person in the world she needed. As Grace passed her first birthday milestone I knew my era of feeling like a bit of a Supermom was quickly coming to an end. The toddler age presents me with many more challenges that don’t come as naturally to me and obviously, it has brought many changes to my teeny tiny baby.

When Grace cried and fussed as a baby I never felt like it was a reflection on me: babies cry. But now when she decides to throw her body across the floor and wail as tears roll down her cheeks because I wouldn’t let her eat an entire canister of banana flavored puffs in one sitting, that’s a little bit harder to walk away from unscathed. She has to learn that you can’t get everything you want all the time, but do I really have to be the one to teach it to her??? Ok, yes. I do.

Her classic short-lived tantrums are just one of the many ways she has evolved in the past few months. She has also recently become a pretty brilliant mimic. She obviously can’t repeat the words we say exactly, but she can imitate the inflection with surprising accuracy.

About a week ago, after yet another day of me trying to teach her how to politely ask for things, respectfully show when she is not happy, and say, “please,"... it was bedtime. My husband, Seth and I were getting ready to tuck her in for the night. He was holding her while we said her nighttime prayers and as I stared down at her my heart was overflowing with those ooey gooey mommy feelings. When you have a child your understanding of what love is gets blown wide open.

I. love. Her.

As we said, “Amen” I bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead…and she batted me away while whining some form of “nooooo”. I looked up at Seth with such hurt in my eyes. All of the moments from the past few weeks of her giving me attitude and denying my affections was pouring down on me in that moment. I wanted to swoop her up in a giant bear hug and shout, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU???? Do you have even the tiniest clue about what I’ve sacrificed for you and what I WILL sacrifice for you??”

As I stood there stunned I said a quick prayer to the Lord, “Please don’t let the night end on this note. Please redeem this.” I heard the Lord answer back to me, “Shan, she’s just a baby. Just a baby. Love her like she’s just a baby.” I felt a nudge in my spirit to hold her like I did when she was just a baby so I gently scooped her up and began to rock her. When she would have trouble falling asleep as a newborn, I would cradle the back of her head in my hand and sway back and forth back and forth. As our bodies fell back into the same rhythm from her first few months of life she immediately remembered the sensation of the air lightly brushing past her face and the safety she felt cradled in my arms. As she smiled up at me her eyes twinkled and time froze. I beamed and softly whispered, “I love you.” It came out sounding more like a song as my voice went up on the word love. After the one-hundred millionth time of saying “I love you” to Grace she chose this moment to mimic back to me for the first time, “Ah luh oo”. Happy tears filled my eyes as I thanked the Lord for confirming to me that yes, she does love me too.

When she has her teachable moments of experiencing what it’s like to not get your way, I can’t forget the moments when she tells me, in her way, that she loves me. When she climbs into my lap all on her own, when she does her laughing scream as she sees me come in the room, and now when she says “I love you” back. Even though I will miss the baby stage, this era of her getting to choose to love me back is something I would never ever trade.

Blessings,

Shantastic :)

My baby is on a Stay-cation!

Hello there from my winter wonderland! I just wanted to drop a quick note into the world wide universe and let everyone know that I am currently on a stay-cation with my family. Seth was given some much needed time off from his extremely considerate employer so we are taking full advantage of this gift of time!

We've been incredibly busy going out to eat, watching movies in front of the fireplace, shopping, playing Chutes and Ladders (Marvel edition), eating way too many snacks, and taking turns sleeping in every other day. Yesterday folks this girl slept in until 10:30!!!! Now that's vacation people!

So, I've gotta get back to my huge to-do list today which includes having a dance party with Grace, eating leftover deep-dish pizza, and wearing my pajamas all day.

I also have one other thing that is of high importance. I was checking the blog a few minutes ago and I saw an Ad on my site that was incredibly distasteful and highly inappropriate. Honestly I'm extremely embarrassed that it somehow made it on the blog to begin with. I removed it and am taking the necessary steps to ensure it never happens again. I apologize if it offended anyone and I sincerely hope it does not affect your desire to read this blog in the future. There is a lot of ickyness in our world and this blog is NOT a place for that. AMEN!

Sending my love from a land that is so cold the governor ordered all public schools to be closed on Monday,
Shantastic :)