Is it too much to ask

(Jan 15 2016)

I love motherhood and I love my kids. There is nothing more fulfilling for me to do right now. But every day I find myself asking myself, is it too much to ask...

• To sleep past 5:30 AM?
• To do my makeup without having to do my daughters too 
• To eat a meal without a child touching me
• To sit and eat for longer than 5 minutes without being asked to do something
• To not help Eliza do absolutely everything 
• To have the kids do the dishes...and vacuum... (OK at 1 and 3 it probably is)
• Have more than one room clean at a time
• Have time to finish a project. Just one.
• To get a nap
• Have my husband give me an hour massage every night? (probably it is)
• To not hear "MOOOOOMMM!!! MOOOOMMM!!!! MOOOMM! litererally every 5 seconds?

What is home?

In August 2014 my parents drove me, squished in the back seat between Eliza (barely 2) and Andrew (2 months) of our Hyundai Sonata, to Pullman for the final two years of Dave’s vet school. It had been a stressful summer (see my previous post “The Truth About Having Two Kids”) and I was ready to move on to this next phase but still sad to leave the only place I’d called home.

I walked into our apartment, seeing it for the very first time and I was crushed. It was not what I expected. I walked through each room clenching my jaw tightly trying to hold back the tears. I repeated over and over to myself “I hate this place. I hate this place. This isn’t my home. This will never be home.” I knew that eventually I’d break down and start to like it here (because I’m a big softy) so in my anger I promised myself that I would be sure to hate this place every day. No making friends. No pictures on the wall. I could not let this become home because I hated it.

Well Dave convinced me to put the pictures on the wall. I protested to him, out loud, that despite the family collage above the couch, this would never be my home.

I still didn’t leave the apartment. I let grandparents and Dave take Eliza out to the playground for as long as possible. I couldn’t leave the apartment.

Well eventually Dave had to start school and I couldn’t keep letting Eliza watch 5 episodes of Curious George a day so we starting going outside and we both started making friends.

Oh and I was called as Relief Society president after only attending church twice. So then I really couldn’t keep my promise of not making friends.

My heart was slowly changed. I love it here. This is my home and I cry harder at the thought of leaving than I ever did at the thought of staying.

I have the best friends here. These last two years have been the absolute hardest and most trying years so far, but they have also been the best. I required a lot of help in that time because my husband was gone 90% of the time and my kids are ridiculously and exhaustingly emotionally needy. I’ve had many meals, treats, and cards brought by on bad days and someone noticed. I’ve had friends come over at bedtime and help me rock my babies to sleep. I’ve had friends talk me through dark moments of my life when I was so depressed I cried just thinking about having to put all three kids in the car. I’ve had friends help me grow and change and teach me how to be a better mother, wife, housekeeper, cook, seamstress, and person in general. I’ve had friends here who I can trust with my children. I’ve had real friends, best friends.

So Pullman, WA as I drive away 2 years later (with three children this time!) much more comfortably in our red Minivan, the Hot Tamale, I must thank you. Thank you for being a random small town in the middle of a giant wheat field filled with the best times and people I could possibly have hoped for.

Whose Life Is It Anyway?

The other day I ran into a friend while I was taking the kids to the park and she was going to go pick up her husband from school to take him somewhere else he needed to go. She joked that her life revolved around his schedule. Which then got me thinking how much my life seriously revolves around my own husband and kids. Since kids and vet school, my life has not been my own. I don’t get to determine basically anything for myself. I guess I pick what we eat...but even then I can’t take more than 2 bites without having to get up and help someone. That’s been weighing on my mind a lot lately and I’ve been feeling rather taken for granted and unappreciated. It’s been frustrating as I notice more and more and more how much everyone else controls my life and how little I get return. My friend Candice summed it up nicely: “[Motherhood] requires so much more inner strength, personal sacrifice and unsung effort than anything.”

The other night, after a few long weeks of Dave coming home after 9, whiny, cranky kids with eye/nose/ear infections and teething, and doing everything for all three of them because they are either unable or unwilling to do anything themselves, all these feelings came to a head and I broke down.

As I was sitting there, mourning the loss of my own life, the spirit whispered to me, “Guess who else didn’t live a life for himself?” And I suddenly realized that all this sacrifice I’m doing is actually making me more Christlike. Remember when John the Baptist died and Christ went to mourn his loss and people still followed him? 

Matt 14:13 When Jesus heard of it, he departed thence by ship into a desert place apart: and when the people had heard thereof, they followed him on foot out of the cities.

Sound familiar, moms?? It might as well read: "When mom heard the fighting, she departed thence by sweat pants into a desert place: and when the children had heard thereof, they followed her on foot into the closet/pantry/bathroom." 

Matt 14:14 And Jesus went forth, and saw a great multitude, and was moved with compassion toward them

Wow. I don't know about you, but when I'm at my low points as I'm sure Christ was upon hearing about the death of his dear friend and cousin, my reaction is sometimes loud and always selfish. "Why can't I have any privacy?!" But what did Christ do? He was moved with compassion and healed their sick. 

This was the whole reason Christ came to earth. He came for us, not for himself. My children need me like I need Christ. They are as dependent on me as I should be on Christ. 

We are supposed to become like he is. So if any of you feel the way I've been feeling these last few weeks, don't feel lost anymore. Being a woman, a mom, or a wife, requires us to give every part of us to those around us. But it is not all for naught. We have our reward as we become Christlike through these trials.  

John 15:13- Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Carl Heinrich Bloch - The complete works

Outfit of the Day

Today I'm excited to share with you my outfit of the day!! You guys I have been waiting so long to be able to share this with you. Unfortunately what I'm wearing is so exclusive (or old...whichever) you probably won't be able to find them anywhere but I will link you to what I can!).

#Jeggings: my mom gave them to me when I was awkwardly pregnant...too big for normal clothes too small for maternity. She probably got them on #clearance at #Walmart

#Top:  $5 Utah State University athletic department. Leftover t-shirt from when they hosted a high school track meet.

#Hair: left-over slept in pony. Love my #SecondDay hair!!

(Also featured because I know you'll ask!! Equate body lotion with #exclusive pump handle, soft soap hand soap $1, multiple use spray bottle (got it at Lee's grocery store...sorry to my readers outside of Northern Utah)

(If I was a real blogger and got paid $400+ per instagram post featuring a brand I'd probably spend a few minutes getting ready too.)

!!Stay tuned for my big nursery reveal!!