My Baby is Riding Waves

Goodbye first trimester. I won't miss you at all. You weighed me down and thoroughly kicked my butt. I will greatly welcome trimester number two and hope that I never see you again. So many times when I was feeling like barfing or just wanting more than anything else to crawl into bed and sleep for three days, I would catch eyes with one of my kids and go, Oh. That's why this is all worth it. This is all so worth it. Don't forget that Shan. Underneath all this nausea and fatigue is a new little life. He/She is peacefully riding those waves of sickness like a boss, growing like crazy and patiently waiting for the day to be born. 

It has been a huge relief to finally be able to explain to my kids why I haven’t had as much energy as usual. So far my kids have adjusted beautifully to the news of their new sibling. I have had to give quite a few excuses to my daughter for why we can't do all the fun adventurous things she would like to do and I was a bit worried that she would start to get frustrated with me. One day she offered up the idea that I push them in the double stroller all the way to the creek so they could throw sticks in the water. Normally, that idea would have been met with enthusiasm and encouragement and we would have packed ourselves up and been on our way. But in my current state, the thought of pushing them anywhere in anything made me want to sob, run away, and hide in my bed. So, I had to think fast. I quickly said 'Orrrrr what if we bring the ball pit outside and put water in it??' I was thinking that way she would get something fun and different and I wouldn’t have to walk further than ten away from where I was standing at that moment. Perfect. Thankfully she bought it and squealed with delight. I’m trying so hard to keep them engaged and occupied but also know that sometimes popcorn and a movie at 10:30 in the morning will not ruin them. They will be fine. 

Now that I can explain to Grace WHY I can’t do certain things anymore, I’m pleasantly surprised that she hasn't seemed resentful at all about it. Kids really are resilient. Yesterday morning I woke up and, once again, felt like I might be on the losing end of a nausea battle. I got the kids some breakfast, forced myself to eat something, and then just had to lay in the fetal position on the couch. I had promised the kids we would do bath time after breakfast (they really super love taking baths) so my daughter was confused why I was heading in the opposite direction of the bathroom. I told her I needed to lay down for a few minutes because my tummy was hurting. I assured her that after I rested then we would be off to bath time. Instead of whining and complaining, she gently curled herself next to me and put her head on my shoulder. She got it. I was so proud of her. After about ten minutes of resting, it felt like a switch was turned off in my stomach and I suddenly felt better. Of course I still felt the fatigue and exhaustion of pregnancy, but the roaring waves of nausea suddenly settled. I even felt this little bit of 'oomph' to get myself up and get my kids to the bath they were looking forward to. Once I got them both sudsing up in the tub, I stood and glanced out the bathroom window. My eyes soaked in the scene of our lush backyard and I let the relief of a calm stomach encircle me. I no longer felt like I was going to throw up. As most of you know, when you feel nauseous, the moments following when you feel normal again are so comforting. It's so lovely to not have your tummy be in turmoil. My eyes continued to sweep across our yard and the creek beyond and I started to thank God for this reprieve from my morning sickness. Then, the thought struck me. I wondered if someone had prayed for me and that's why I had felt better so instantaneously. With prayer, sometimes you never do find out if someone has prayed for you or not. But I felt content with having hope that maybe someone out there had lifted me up and that was why I felt so much better. I happily shrugged and thought that maybe I would never know, and that was ok. The sound of loud shrieks and laughter from my kids snapped me out of my thoughts and I turned to see them laughing uncontrollably. I couldn’t suppress the smile that engulfed my face as I watched them playfully splash each other and enjoy the warmth of the water. 

Later that day when my husband came home he asked right away how I was feeling. He had asked me the same question when I woke up that morning and I had tried to put on a tough facade and said 'I'm just ok… but I'll be alright.' I had a feeling that he could see through the brave face I was trying to put on. When he asked me again at the end of the day, I told him that I had actually started out the day feeling really icky and then all of a sudden the nausea totally went away. He smiled and said, 'That's great Babe because I was praying for you all morning.' 

The power of prayer.

I had someone tell me once that he thought we shouldn’t bother God with our small requests when there are so much bigger things that God has to take care of. But I think God cares about it all. I care about the big AND small things with my kids. I want to delight in them as they do big and exciting things like go to school for the first time. And I also care deeply about the small things, like watching them giggle as they enjoy each other’s company. God cared about my small thing too, enough to heal my morning sickness and allow me to enjoy watching my kids splash around in the tub instead of missing it because my head was hanging over a bucket. 

God cares about it all.

Blessings,

Shantastic 

My Babies' Dad is on a Balance Beam

10 years. 10 years of marriage…I apologize if I get a bit over-emotional (unfortunately that’s just a symptom of being Shantastic) but every prayer and hope I had for my life came true the day I met him.

On paper we are so different, but together we are a beautiful balancing act. We all strive to have our life be somewhat in balance right? A healthy balance of work and rest, a mixture of not just telling our kids to love each other and be respectful but actually showing them through our actions. From the day we met we have been walking on the balance beam of life together. Sometimes it’s been easy, wide enough for us both to walk together hand-in-hand. Other seasons we have had to help lead the other through difficult times, and continue to encourage each other when one of us would sink down in defeat. In the darkest of times, we have even had to take turns carrying each other on our backs. Never giving up. Always persisting. 

Just like life, our walk together is always changing. Sure, we have days and seasons where it feels like the movies. My heart leaps when I see his car pull into the driveway, my emotions swell when he tells me I look beautiful. But we have our challenges just like everyone else too. I annoy him endlessly with my day-old coffee that I leave sitting on the counter. He drives me crazy when he drinks all the orange juice in one sitting. But through every trial, every hard situation, when one of us is totally losin' it and about to have a mental breakdown, we balance. 

We’ve been operating like this since we first started dating, but it has obviously been tested more since having our children. Of course, we are always trying to be the best versions of ourselves for our kids, to try and teach them how to be caring people who treat others with respect. But recently, I dropped the ball in regards to our son. At first it may not seem like that big of a deal, but to me, it was. It happened a few months ago…and it all started with my son’s eyes. Those eyes. No, please don’t start filling up with tears I thought. Those bright baby blues fill up so stinkin' fast. Just as I was about to extend my arms and wrap my sad little boy in the biggest, bestest, mommy embrace, my husband ran between us and scooped Emmett out of my reach. As my gaze followed Emmett who was now full-on back arching trying to reach me, I made eye contact with my husband. Catching his very intent stare finally snapped me back to reality and I realized, I had almost done it again. I was about to let Emmett completely get away with misbehaving, just because he had started crying and trying to hug me. I had been going too easy on him lately (because, those eyes). I had been letting him get out of being in trouble because I would rather just hug him instead. It was creating a not-so-good pattern for him and I had been in denial about it.

This time his offense was a pretty big thing and my husband was not about to let it go ignored. Emmett hit me on the arm (really it was more like an assertive slap…but still, something had to be done, right?). I instinctively shot Emmett a look of disapproval and when I raised my voice just one level above normal, his eyes became a thunderstorm and his words of apology came pouring out. I had told him that he needed to go sit for a time-out. He hates time-outs almost as much as I hate disciplining him. It’s hard to follow through and discipline someone who just immediately starts sobbing a barely audible “Sahhhheeeee” while he’s trying to go in for a hug. So, when Emmett slapped my arm and I went to save him from his consequence, my husband was ready to stand in the gap. I tried defending myself because, of course, I didn’t want to admit that I was wrong. I blurted, “But I think he feels really bad about it!” He responded quietly and calmly by saying, “Babe, you can’t be the rescuer.” 

He was right. I had been creating a habit of being the rescuer, and my son’s behavior was steadily showing the proof of that. Emmett had just booked himself a ticket to “Time-Out Land” and he had to go. If I would have just hugged him right away, would he have really gotten the concept? Would the reality of his bad choice really sunk in? Or was he just reacting to being in trouble and saying sorry to get out of a time-out?  My husband knew that in this moment, Emmett needed to experience a real consequence. My sweet little boy had been testing the boundaries more lately, and he needed to know that this was not something we would allow. Discipline had to happen, and I couldn’t rescue him from it.

After a short stay in “Time-Out Land”, I walked over to my baby and gently laid his hand on my cheek. Without any prompting he whimpered, “Sahhee MomMom”. I scooped him up into my lap and told him I forgave him. Even though following through with his time-out made me want to cry right along with him, it was what had to happen. That night was the first -and only- time he has ever hit me. He learned.

When I was getting lazy on my balance beam of life and choosing the option that required less work, my husband gently reminded me that what is right is not always easy. This wasn’t the biggest failure I’ve ever had, the Lord knows I’ve made much bigger mistakes in my life! But still, my husband was there to counter for me. Just like he has been every single day for the last 10 years. 

So today, I’m celebrating that. 10 years of friendship, partnership, and never giving up.

Blessings,

Shantastic

P.S. Babe, I ordered you that comforter from Sleep Number that you really wanted. Don’t worry, it was on sale :) Happy Anniversary my love!

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Lastly, this photo makes my over-emotional sappy little self squeal because my husband is reading to my kids from the Beginner’s Bible that my Great-Grandma gave me. I read that book every night as a kid. I almost dropped the coffee pot trying to scramble over there and catch a photo with my phone before anyone wiggled away. Grace sat there with him for over 20 minutes. And my heart could barely even stand it.