The Dance

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Garth Brooks-a great musical artist, I’m in love with most of his songs, including one titled “The Dance”.

The best piece of advice I’ve gotten about raising a baby is it’s a dance…and the baby is leading; I’m just following. I could drive myself crazy trying to live a life I want to and stick to a schedule that I set. But I’ve found the days go a lot smoother when I follow Georgia’s lead-she wants to eat every 2 hours (sometimes even more often)? You got it Miss Piggy. She wants to wake up after only a 30 minute nap? Good to see you again, I missed you. She wants to be held non-stop? That’s why I bought a carrier, hop on in. She wants to talk to me instead of looking at her hanging toys? The laundry can wait, I’d rather have a conversation with you. There’s a time coming soon where I’ll take over that lead roll, but for now, I’m enjoying her for who she is and what she needs, right now.

Kinda reminds me of my relationship with Christ…except that I have no plans to take that lead roll at any point in time. Funny how life goes a lot smoother when I’m following His lead-He wants me to forgive my Dad for not being there most of my life? I took that burden off my shoulders and laid it at His feet years ago; what a relief (Luke 17:4-“Even if they sin against you seven times in a day and seven times come back to you saying ‘I repent,’ you must forgive them.”). He wants me to submit to my husband as the head of our household? Hard…but I lay my will at His feet and take up my role as helper to my man (Genesis 2:18-“The Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.””). He promises me the husband and family I long for but wants me to wait 5 years to receive it? It was worth the wait and I couldn’t be more joyful with the husband and daughter He has blessed me with (Hebrews 6:13-15-“When God made his promise to Abraham, …saying, “I will surely bless you and give you many descendants.” And so after waiting patiently, Abraham received what was promised.”)


“And now I’m glad I didn’t know, the way it all would end, the way it all would go. Our lives are better left to chance. I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance” –Garth Brooks





I am Woman, hear me roar


I read a book called ‘I was a good mom until I had kids’ or something like that. I was still pregnant at the time and loved it…a lot. It sounded spot on as far as how women work. Basically the premise was women in general tend to put on their happy face all the time; we pretend life is good even when it’s not and nothing changes when we have kids except the lies become more numerous; the kids are great, they never throw tantrums, always eat their vegetables and sleep through the night; our marriage is great, my husband and I spend lots of quality time together, never fight, and agree on everything; I’m great too, I feel rested and happy everyday, I love working and fixing dinner, doing the laundry, changing diapers, and running errands, all day, every day.  And yet….we all know life is not like that.

So instead of standing here and judging each other (she spoils her child too much. she’s too disciplined with her child. her husband would be happier if he was getting-you know what-more. she got take out tonight instead of cooking dinner?), why don’t we actually tell it like it is? Because we all know that life is not perfect, nor will it ever be.

My husband and I are blessed to be part of a small group through our church that is made up of families-moms and dads and kids. And you know what? That’s exactly what we are too! We get to hear, and share, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Also, this week I attended a Mom’s Bible Study and guess what? It was chock-full of mothers who were being real-telling it like it really is. One woman wants more attention from her husband. Another feels like a failure because her patience with her kids is running thin lately…all the time. Another gets distracted by facebook when she should be spending time with her family. Another is a stay at home mom and feels she should be able to do the awesomely amazing crafts with her kids she finds on pinterest because she (should) has the time and it’s spelled out for her step by step, and yet she can’t.

And me? Well, I struggle with self-confidence in my body. I sit and watch TV or a movie with my husband and it’s impossible to do so and not see some half naked woman. And then I look down and see a flabby belly from giving birth 2 months ago and I feel…well, I feel like crap. I convince myself that THAT woman on the TV is what my husband wants me to look like and I am far from it (did you know, this happened just the other day and what did my husband do? he turned and looked at me instead of that half naked woman on the TV. that’s my man.) Don’t even get me started on how many times this happened while I was pregnant and I had to run to the bathroom and cry after looking down at my very pregnant belly!

I don’t say all this because I want people to feel sorry for me, but because it’s REAL. This week at Bible Study God confirmed that I am not alone. Ecclesiastes 4:9-10, 12 says: “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!…Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” As the study book put it (paraphrased): “God chose us, despite all our inadequacies, to showcase His strength. In our weakness, He is strong (2 Corinthians 12:9)”. What does this mean? Duh! I needs friends! Friends that have been there, done that. Friends that will pick me up and encourage me when I fall down. Friends that know me, the real me, and I know them, the real them. Friends that know my life is not perfect: my baby cries…a lot; my husband and I have struggled to still be husband and wife and not just parents; even though I feel blessed to be able to stay at home with my baby most days, there are times I also resent it; my husband has done most of the grocery shopping and has had to cook his own dinners most days these first two months of parenthood; there are times when I sit and cry and feel like I am a failure…at everything.

Yet, I know that I am not alone. I am not the first woman and mother to go through all of this, nor will I be the last. Thank you Jesus that I have friends to pick me up and remind me that I am a strong, incredibly talented, hard working woman of God…and I have a husband who loves me just the way I am!



Oh the horror of it

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Some people like horror movies, haunted houses, being scared out of their mind. I’m not one of them. I remember having a basketball team sleepover at Allyson
Tetsworth’s house in high school and someone had the bright idea to watch the movie ‘Scream’. Me and some other scaredy-cat lay in our sleeping bags, whispering back and forth, looking away from the TV, and even plugging our ears throughout the whole movie. One time in my mid-20’s a boy convinced me to watch ‘Saw’ with him. Oh the stupid things you’ll do for the opposite sex! I’m even afraid of the funny ‘Scary Movie’ series. I’m afraid of the dark and scary movies just re-iterate what can go wrong when you’re in the dark. I have nightmares for days after a scary event.

However, there is one thing that is scarier than anything I’ve ever encountered before…the cry of my baby…when she’s supposed to be sleeping…when I’m enjoying a few moments without her. It takes my breath away and makes my heart stop beating. It’s so traumatic I hear her cry even when it’s not her; it haunts me. I’ve even heard her cry when I was holding her…and she was clearly NOT crying. My breath stopped even then. A cat’s meow on the TV is my baby crying. The kids playing across the street is my baby crying. My dog whimpering in her sleep is my baby crying. I can’t get away from it! Will this ever end?

This woman looks exactly how I feel when I hear that little cry…scared woman


She’s Alive!

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Ever see the old Frankenstein movie? Yeah, me neither, but surely you know the scene where Frank comes to life and his maker yells “It’s Alive!” It’s a phrase I have muttered to myself many times already in Georgia’s 7 weeks of life. Why? Because I swear I should have seriously maimed or killed my child out of stupidity many-a-times already. th (1)

For instance, I was at work and my sweet child decided to fall asleep in her car seat, which is wonderful because usually I’m carrying her around in her carrier on my chest. Not a big deal, but kind of makes it hard to work considering I take care of horses. So as not to wake her I put her blanket over the car seat to block out her surroundings….kind of like they do to birds to calm them down. 

When I finished work, I just carried the car seat out to the car, put her in, and home we went with Sleeping Beauty as quiet as a mouse. I get home, bring her car seat in the house, and…..she wasn’t buckled into her seat. I had driven all the way home without her buckled. Oh my gosh! If we’d gotten in an accident, she could have gone flying out of her seat and slammed into the side of the car; no more baby.

Another time I was actually buckling her into her car seat and my hand slipped off the buckle as I slid it up the strap and I clotheslined her right in her cute, button nose, which she gets from her Daddy. Can’t noses be broken that way? Of course she started screaming and I started to cry right along with her. We were a mess. But after holding her for about 8.3 seconds, she stopped crying and was fine. Apparently she moves on quickly. Me? Not so much. Broke my heart for hours afterwards.

And still yet another time I had her on my shoulder, in the process of sitting down on the couch getting ready to feed my little piggy. I sat down on the edge and went to scoot to the back, only when I did, I ended up whiplashing her just a bit so that her head then slammed right down into my shoulder. Let the screams begin, along with my tears. In order to make her forget what a bad mom she has, I quickly started to feed her. Low and behold, she decided I wasn’t that bad after all considering I was the source of some yummy milk.

Ahhhhhh, the joys of  motherhood. It’s a wonder I really haven’t killed her yet. Thank you Jesus for making babies so resilient to be able to survive their parents.

P.S.-Don’t tell my husband, but I did that non-buckling thing in the car seat again today. Oops!


Why Blog?


I’m tired, exhausted. There are a million and one things on my to-do list today and another million tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. So why add one more thing to the list? Because I need a creative outlet. I need to be able to vent, and by vent I mean tell about my extremely exciting life, wow-ing people with my adventures….and by all that I mean tell about my extremely mundane life as a wife and mother, which I absolutely love. And hate. All at the same time, or rather it’s one or the other at one time or another. This blog is my way to get what is in my head, out, and what usually comes out makes it all seem not so bad.
For instance, my previous blog about batteries. During each situation I was frustrated as heck, yet as I wrote about them, it all seemed rather funny, which made me not frustrated anymore, which allowed me to gear up for the next frustrating event to come, which came last night. Our sweet, little, precious daughter decided she’d rather be awake than sleep last night…for most of the night. And then she decided she needed to eat all day today, as in the day after last night. As in I’m exhausted and now you want to eat all day instead of nap. Wonderful.

And yet when she was finally content after one particular feeding and in a happy, happy, happy mood, I found myself unable to tear myself away from her. I could have easily put her down and let her entertain herself as I hustled around getting those million and one things done (or at least a handful of them), but I chose to sit and enjoy my daughter. The dirty laundry can wait as can the clean laundry needing to be put away. The dog hair covering our floors can wait another day to be swept up (it’s not like Georgia is crawling around yet or anything), the piles of “stuff” can sit out a little bit longer. And even if all of that needed to be done RIGHT NOW, who could resist a face like this?


Babies and Batteries

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Frustration. Any new mother has felt it. Lots of it (probably ANY mother feels it, no matter how many kids she has, but I have yet to experience that, so I’m writing just from the view point of a NEW mom). You would think all these gadgets out there designed for babies and their parents would have the capacity to decrease frustration, not add to it. For example, what new mom has the time and extra pair of hands to deal with unscrewing a screw? And yet today I found myself in that same predicament…again.
The first time found me holding a sleeping baby-read: a crying baby that was NO LONGER crying and I wanted to keep it that way. I was ready to put her in her bassinet for a nap, super gently of course so as not to wake her, then hurry to take a shower, eat lunch, do some laundry, and a number of other jobs that fall under my umbrella as “wife” and “mom”. While Georgia not only can, but prefers, sleeping with noise (there was constant noise in my cozy womb for the first 9 months of her life so silence is deafening at this stage in her life), she often startles at sudden noises, like a creaking floor. Which we have lots of and where an especially LOUD creaky board is located right next to her bassinet. So here I am, holding a sleeping baby (the phrase should be “let sleeping babies lie”, not “let sleeping dogs lie”), having to make my way to her bassinet, making sure to step over the creaking boards, place her in her bassinet without waking her, step back over the creaking boards, turn the white noise machine on, and leave the room. I finally had her monitoring system pulled out of the box, but of course not put together yet. So as the clock is ticking on just how long little miss Georgia will decide to take a nap and let me get things done, I rush to grab some batteries, shove them in the monitoring walkie talkie, creep back into the bedroom, this time just crawling over the bed to the bassinet, and put the child unit on the night stand.But as I’m putting the system together I discover…I have to unscrew the back of the unit to add batteries. Seriously? Dear maker of this monitoring system, do you see the long list of things I have to get done RIGHT NOW? I don’t have time to go get a screw driver, unscrew this tiny little screw, put batteries in, and then screw this tiny little screw back in. I just don’t. Shame on you for overestimating me.

And then today was the second scenario, only this time I was holding our little munchkin who had just been crying, but was blissfully silent after I swaddled her nice and tight (I even taped the end of the blanket so she couldn’t get out of it, which she is a professional at doing. Don’t judge) and was all ready to place her in her bassinet, turn the vibration motor on, lay down on the bed next to her (out of sight, which I discovered puts her to sleep faster than if she can see me) and rock her to sleep. The hair dryer was turned on right next to her (another wonderful gadget that may not have been designed for babies, but that none the less is part of our baby repertoire), I go to turn on the vibrator and lay her down…and the battery is dead. And guess what? This too requires the need for a screwdriver. Seriously? There needs to be something that lets me know the battery is low BEFORE I go to use it because by then, it’s too late. And please stop with the screws. So now I have to put the baby down, go get the screwdriver and new battery, come back and replace it, pick the baby back up and soothe her all over again because of course by now she has started to cry again, then put her back down in her bassinet for a nap…and start the long list of things that need to get done.

Lesson of the week? Babies and batteries don’t mix. Or maybe I should say moms and batteries don’t mix! baby-professional-19152600

Next time, I’m calling this guy to come help