Taking it Seriously

You know what's not comfortable? Chasing a dream and taking it seriously. I committed to myself to keep up with this blog with at least 2 uncomfortable experiences per week until my daughter was born. Sofia is 2 months old now, and pretty much every waking moment of my life is a joyful journey of discomfort now. I'm never quite ready for the next challenge.

Not feeling the need to be too intentional about pushing myself into discomfort anymore, I'm moving onto a new project. I'm wrapping up a year of living in San Diego and am about to add a new batch of long distance friends to my collection. Make new friends, but keep the old right? So while my new challenge needs to me having the courage to make those new friends, I also don't want to lose the treasure of the friends I've made thus far. So one of my best long-distance friends and I have started a new blog:

longdistancelobsters.com

I've wanted to be a writer for decades, so I'm finally trying to do something about it.

This is me feeling terrified about another transition, feeling called to take the craft of writing more seriously, and having a REALLY fun time with a very dear friend. I really pray and hope that this will also be an encouragement to you, to help you love others better. I hope you'll check it out, follow our new blog, give us some good tips, and enjoy some good food for thought and laughter.

Thanks for being part of this project with me thus far!

Blessings!!

Happy Mother’s Day

It’s my first mother’s day as a functioning-mother, appreciating my own mom. So in continuing to challenge myself to write about my mother, here’s a list of a few fond moments with my mom:

1)   When driving over the mountains when I was little [they were actually freeway overpasses – but Houstonian children don’t know the difference] we would sing together, sliding into higher registers as we drove up, and into lower registers as we went down.

2)   My first performance in front of people – singing “I love you Lord” – with my mom and lil sis in matching pepto-bismal-pink dresses my mom had sewn herself.

3)   My mom clinging me to her chest, burying my face in her shoulder so I wouldn’t see and be traumatized the slaughtered deer that my dad, uncles, and cousins brought back from the hunt. It was 99% effective and I was just 1% traumatized.

4)   All my birthday parties growing up. Having a summer birthday is the pits – my friends were always out of town and I always felt lonely. But my mom always put so much thought and creativity into each birthday party, that they were regularly legendary and the talk of the people who did manage to attend for decades afterwards. A particularly great one was 3^rd grade, when we all had to dress up as our favorite heroine. She made me a Helen of Troy costume. We had crazy menus for a three course dinner, that involved what are still two of my favorite foods – ham and cheese croissants,  and avocados with true French vinaigrette dressing.

5)   Stepping in to finish my mom’s vocal solo at a nursing home, because she was so moved by the music and lyrics.

6)   Every single Christmas morning when my mom stuffed our stockings [beautifully needle pointed by her, by the way] with goodies, showered us with thoughtful presents, and always devised a grand scavenger hunt for our “big present” of the year – which she had often made herself. Some parents might make presents that inspire their kids to roll their eyes and wish their parents knew where the nearest Target is, but my parents made awesome presents that we got tons of use out of – like our own puppet stage or our own swing set.

7)   Playing chubby bunny at our farm house with my seventh grade Sunday school class – my mom was so cool, that even as a seventh grade, ornery adolescent, I wanted her to hang out with me and my friends on weekends.

8)   Seeing my mom whirl around like a hurricane, packing a bag faster than I can unzip it, in order to jump on a plane to Colorado to be with my sister who’d just been in a terrible bus accident. It was one of the more horrific few hours of my life – but watching her have the presence of mind to jump into action in such a moment was just awe inspiring. It was amazingly comforting to see how capable she could be in an hour of dire need.

9)   Spending the week before my wedding with my mom and lil sis – kayaking, going to girly movies, lounging in our hotel room, getting massages – just enjoying good girl time before one of the biggest transitions of my life.

10)                  My mom’s presence in my hospital room for the two hours after Sofia was born, stroking my hair and whispering comforting words while I tried not to be terrified or overcome by pain and sadness while I waited to meet my daughter.

11)                  Handing Sofia into my mother’s arms when she came to visit for spring break, and seeing her melt with tears of joy over getting to hold her grand-daughter

12)                  Doing facetime with my mom over our phones last week and watching Sofia grab the phone and smother it with a huge, juicy kiss.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom! I love you!

And Happy Mother's Day to all the other Moms out there. I doubt I ever told my mother in most of the above moments how important those experiences were for me - in the midst of most of them, I'm sure I didn't even know myself. But they were. So never underestimate the moments you share with your children. You never know what might be bolstering their little hearts with the knowledge that they are immensely loved by someone - whether anyone else is aware of it or not. I am just beginning to get a glimpse of what your journey might be like, and while I appreciated you all before, I have an even greater respect for you now. What you do day in and day out has so much more purpose and value than we ever recognize or appropriately celebrate. Thank you for the love you pour into our world! 

In a Man . . .

What does a gal look for in a man?

Maybe that he's handsome?

smart?

that he can grow a strong manly beard?

that he loves his Mama and makes her proud?

how about that he'll be there for you when you are weak and afraid?

 or that he loves your daughter well?

that he keeps her warm when she is cold

that he teaches her things like non-commutative algebraic geometry . . . 

and how to wash the dishes . . . 

or how to study the Word of God

that he can be fun for her

that he will carry her

that he will be big and strong for her when she is small and vulnerable

and mostly that he will always love her, because she is Daddy's little Princess.

I don't usually like to brag on him too much, cause he hates it, but today is his birthday, so I have to confess - I have all of these things and so much more in my husband, Manny.

My love, my gratitude for you reaches a depth you will never be able to comprehend. I signed up to be married to a really good guy, and I got an amazing Man instead. The husband, father, and friend that you are for me brings such sweet glory to God. I love you and I hope you have a happy birthday!

Long Distance Grandparenting: Segment 1

A couple weeks ago I posted about media that keeps me entertained while I'm nursing and got some stellar suggestions - thanks y'all! So here's another post about my parenting challenges, time to share more advice and suggestions! please!!

I was spoiled rotten. I grew up in the same city with BOTH sets of my grandparents, all four living to this day. It would have been a strange month to go without seeing all four of them at least once, if not several times. They celebrated my every birthday (even my sister's birthdays - by giving me gifts then too so I wouldn't feel too neglected); attended most school plays, "grandparents' days" at school, sports games; attended more graduations than any human being should be compelled to go to, etc. etc. etc. When my mom couldn't pick me up from school one year, I just walked to my grandmother's house from school and hung out there for a few hours until my mom could come get me. If I was sick or my parents were out of town, it was to "grandmother's house we go." They were so fully integrated into my everyday life because they had geographical proximity, and because they were really intentional about loving on me (and all their grandkids and great-grandkids even). 

Close to a decade ago, it was estimated that roughly 50% of grandparents lived at least 200 miles away from their grandkids. That statistic is presently precise for our family - one set of Sofia's grandparents are 110 miles away, the other is about 1,500 miles away. In a couple months, one set will be 3,000 miles away, the other set will be 2,000 miles away. We're not exactly having a simple casual family dinner all together any time soon. 

Seeing as how, according to Piaget, Sofia doesn't even know that I exist when I'm not in front of her (the developmental milestone of object permanence - supposedly arrives around 8 months), trying to figure out how to form an emotional bond between her and people she sees very rarely is a challenge I regularly chew on. I wish I already had this problem mastered, but I don't. I welcome anyone's advice they might have. 

A few things we are doing already include:

1) Photos of the day: I don't send them religiously every day, but several times a week at least. My hope is that this way they [grandparents plus her aunt and uncle] can see her grow over time and get a glimpse of what life is like in her day to day. (this blog also serves a bit of that purpose, but the photos help for the less literary-inclined family members)

2) Hospitality: We do whatever we can to make coming to visit us accessible and joyful. San Diego is not a bad town to live in to help draw people out your way! Actually having a bedroom for guests some day might also help. Our parents have been very gracious so far to sleep on our couch and air mattress.

3) Facetime: Being able to converse face to face really enhances relationship - as so much of communication is non-verbal, and still photos sure can't capture Sofia's cute spazzy behavior, skype-type tools are just priceless. Here are a few snapshots of Sofia doing FaceTime with her "Big Mama" the other day.  

What were ways your grandparents developed a relationship with you and showed you love? 

If you are a grandparent, what have your own children done well to help your grandkid bond with you?

 If you are a parent with kids, what are some of the ways you've found to help facilitate the grand-bond? 

Not in a position to answer these questions but know some helpful experts? Please send a link to this blog to them so they can help me out. Thanks! 

A Day in the Life of Sofia

A few friends have been asking me what a typical day looks like for me now that I have little Sofia in my life. I tend to bumble when I try to answer, so I thought I might try to actually think it through for a minute and share it in case anyone else is curious what motherhood looks like - at our house anyways. The thing is, part of the fun of a newborn is that there really isn't a "typical" day because she's changing so much all the time. But I'll try to provide a rough idea.

Somewhere between 5-7am we hear her waking up and go into her room, dragging our feet and rubbing out eyes, wishing we could have had another hour or so of sleep. But when we enter her room to find this, we are much happier to greet the day:

Daddy changes her while I get ready to feed her. She gets her first breakfast, I enjoy my novel of the moment, and usually by the time we're done, Dad has coffee and breakfast ready for us. We enjoy breakfast and devotionals together, and Sofia usually gets her second breakfast somewhere during that window. Breakfast hour usually looks some combination of the following:

Daddy's arms

Mama's lap

If I'm lucky, Manny doesn't have to leave right away and I can get a shower in. Showers are such a sweet luxury these days! [don't worry, I do get them most days - I just appreciate them alot more] Once Daddy is off to work, we are usually into third breakfast [my baby puts hobits to shame!], and hopefully a walk. 

We enjoy going to the park that is filled with fun things to see: flowers and plants, other kids at the playground, old ladies in a dance class under the trees, old men walking around the baseball field, dogs at the dog park, and friendly parks and red employees keeping up the grounds. Once each week we get a special treat of taking an extra long walk with Aunt Lexie in a new adventurous place each time we go out. We also walk to the grocery store sometimes to pick up things we've run out of. Sofia is very popular at Vons! This all makes for a very full morning, so usually by this time its about time to head home for some lunch - Sofia first, and Mommy whenever she's lucky enough. We veg out to something on Netflix watch instantly and enjoy a mid-day break. 

Afternoons are a blur in my mind. There really isn't much structure. But in addition to lots more feedings and various developmental exercises, it involves things like: 

• playing with our animal friends:

Edmund and I are great pals 

Pooh-Bee and Kitty are always fighting for my attention, its exhausting keeping the peace!

• Tummy Time 

• Singing to her birdies

•  Havin' a chat with her best friend, the cutest looking baby in town [that would be Sofia, in the mirror, but she doesn't know that its herself she's smiling at just yet]

• Working on our sitting-up muscles in the Bumbo

• Going for a swim in one of her two adorable swim suits [thank you Aunt Lauren!]

• Making a trip to the Farmer's Market if it's Thursday

• And hopefully taking a nap [Mom too, if she's lucky]

I might squeeze in some of my own activities if Sofia is willing - be it blog updates like this [she's sleeping on my chest as I speak], managing our finances, keeping up with friends, studying something of interest, learning about how to be a parent, etc. For how I keep myself busy while I'm nursing, see my earlier post on media I'm grateful for. 

By the time Dad gets home, we're worn out, but very happy to see him. He enjoys catching up with Sofia who loves to tell him all about her day:

And if Mom can tear herself away, she gets dinner ready. Once everyone is well fed, depending on the day, we might have to hurry and get the kitchen all clean so we can transform it for bath time, which Sofia has come to love:

After I nurse her to sleep, Manny and I are usually so transfixed that we can barely bring ourselves to put her down in her own room, but we somehow manage, and if we're lucky we can take a deep breath and relax for an hour or so with a mug of decaf coffee, before we drag ourselves to bed and hope we get enough rest to do it all again the next day.  

Various weekdays have their special events, and most weekends are full with visitors. Somewhere in there, dishes get cleaned and laundry gets washed. Life is just a fun new adventure with little Sofia around!

Facing Myself

I think the feeling of being loved is so incredibly rare, that when it touches you it can be overwhelming. I have the blessing of being incomprehensibly loved by my grandparents - Grammy and Grandpa.

I didn't know until about a year ago when my cousin told me, that my grandparents had been saving every email I'd ever sent them and everything I've ever written them. I figured they might save a few of the cards of drawings I did when I was a kid and it was cute, but all my college craziness? wow. Even if I haven't had the guts to act on my dreams of being a writer, they always believed in me and held onto each word I did write, believing it was the beginnings of something great.

Recently, as they've been having to prepare to move out of their home by cleansing all their stuff, my grandmother gave me the box in which all these emails were being treasured. Ok, by recently, I mean about 9 months or so ago. The gesture was so sweet, but in all this time, I haven't had the guts to open the box. I've been pretty afraid of what I'll find in there.

It's staring at me from across the room right this minute - hidden behind a couch, it can see me and its watching me, daring me to actually look inside. Not today blue box. I'm not quite ready to face who I might have been back in all those old emails. Facing myself in the mirror today can be challenging enough. Today the line of my comfort zone lies between me and that box.

I should look inside. Grammy thought those emails were worth saving for some reason, and I do believe "the unexamined life is not worth living." So I'm just putting this out there for now, knowing you readers know that I'm afraid of a silly box will hopefully deflate some of its power over me. Eventually I'll work up the guts to open in, even read something that's inside, hopefully I can get back to you and share a lesson or two I learn from that experience. But not today!

Dear Older Women, I love you

How many thousands of conversations amongst women have I heard about how evil media is for convincing us we need to spend millions of dollars to look younger all the time? Too many. In all those conversations where we women have bemoaned this burden of pressure, I have joined in the rant against the "media" but actually haven't ever understood the complaint all that much. Maybe because my younger sister is so much taller than me, I felt more resentment than flattery when people were always underestimating my age when the two of us were together and just settled into always wishing I looked older than I did. No one ever prepared me for the experience of holding my baby girl and looking into the mirror with the two of us side by side. I look so freaking old!! Yikes! All of the sudden I'm plowing through my Oil of Olay supply desperately trying to ward off any MORE sun damage to my skin. yeesh. This is a side of myself I've never known. Seeing as how it's generally women caring for the young, how did it never occur to me that being more frequently face to face with youth might have something to do with women's obsession with trying to look young?

That said, I am feeling particularly grateful for older women today, and want to give them a special shout out and hopefully a little encouragement. When I was a college student, away from home for the first time, I felt the absence of older women from my life. I was so incredibly blessed growing up living in the same city as almost all my aunts my whole childhood, and both of my grandmothers. And I can't take for granted the fact that I got to grow up with a wonderful mom too, as so many of my friends have lost theirs. So once in college, surrounded almost only by peers and a small handful of female professors, an amazing woman, Lauretta Patterson came into my life, discipling me (and many others) for a few years and I am still benefiting from the blessing of her love. I will never forget how fun it is to make homemade pizzas or the site of her "acting out" Hebrews 4:12 with big gregarious hand motions, and I'll probably never forget that verse either thanks to her creative memorization technique! She was the first, but there were so many others. In my first full time job, I was surrounded by women of several different generations above me who taught me about coordinating professional outfits, managing blood sugar, marrying a Mexican husband, working hard, using lemons in place of salt, etc. etc. etc. I moved on to Berkeley and was particularly blessed by a dear sweet friend, Colleen, who took me under her wing and gathered a whole group of women of her generation to bless me and my friends of a younger generation just stepping into journeys those women already mastered and knew so well. And now I've moved down to San Diego, and today I just finished taking part in a bible study where I was one of the youngest women, looking up to women 10, 20, 40 years my senior who shared with me their generous love, support, and wisdom.

I drove home from the last day of that group today feeling that deep sense of my cup running over. I have had to live such a transitional life since I left home for college and gosh darn-it, I miss my Mama (and my Grammy and Gee too) sometimes!  How amazing that these other women in all these other towns have woven together a tapestry of love and support - sharing their lives, their patience, their insight, their perspective with me when my mom wasn't physically present to do so. I have been so blessed. When I start to think about it from their perspective, I think about how rough it must be - having young girls like me pop in and out of their lives. Just when they think they're really connecting and developing a bond, off I go again. They must feel sometimes like all their energy is so futile. But if you are a woman [or man for that matter] who has ever felt that way, I hope you can hear my story and see how you play a part along with your peers, to spread this net for me (and I'm sure so many others) across cities and states so that I never quite feel without a good dose of mentorship and motherly love.

Thank you for touching my life in the little way that you can for the little time I'm around. Know you are working with a whole team of amazing women, and you're getting the job done! And just like I have this host of mentors who catch me each place I land, just consider us all as we flit in and out of your lives, a host of young women who really need to hear from you what life is like from where you stand. Be patient with us as we may fail to listen, as we say the same silly, presumptuous, naive things over and over again, and as we leave you wondering how we turned out or whether you got through to us. I hope I've applied at least some of the lessons you've taught me, at least I know I feel so surrounded by love. So I hope you'll keep persevering with young ladies like me - be it your neighbor, co-worker, daughter-in-law, or newcomer to your place of worship. We might act like we have it all together or know it all, we might look at you funny when you ask what a "tweet" is and why facebook is such a big deal, but we need you in our lives - even if we have our moms near by, we need all the womanly wisdom and support we can get.

Perhaps even more than I lament my sun scorched aging skin and have these silly feelings of jealousy for my 3 month old daughter's beautiful face, I am jealous of your beautiful gray hairs, the scars from meals you cooked for your family, the bent back disfigured from the little (and big) people you carried when they didn't have the strength to stand, the wrinkle lines that tell fantastic stories of strength, resilience, unfathomable love and sacrifice. Thank you for being a crucial part of my life! There are so many of you that I haven't begun to list you all in this post. But please know that I love you and I appreciate you!