New Series: Vulnerability

Dear friends,

Have you ever noticed that we tend to talk about struggles, learning curves, rough patches and lessons (learned) only after they are, well, learned, beaten, overcome, etc?

There's something beautiful, and perhaps delightful, that we want to share hope, encouragement, advice, and diamonds in the rough that we've uncovered the hard way - so that someone else can be encouraged, or learn the lesson a bit easier than we have had to.  In a world that is full of discouragement, brokenness, and hardship, there is something quite beautiful and good about seeing triumphs and struggles overcome.  Please don't get me wrong; I wholeheartedly encourage and bless "battles won" stories.  And I will read them, celebrate with you, weep with you, and empathize as I'm able.  True hope is always a good thing.

But.

Have you ever noticed that we don't really talk about "struggles" or "rough patches" when we're in the thick of them?  When we don't see the light at the end of the tunnel yet?  When we don't know where we're going even?  When we're treading water, lost in the dark, overwhelmed, uncertain or even just confused and in need of direction... or maybe just sad.  Even if we still have hope - real hope, not denial or avoidance of the issues - we don't talk about it until that hope has been realized.

Of course there is wisdom to discretion in where and when we share.  And of course there are things that we struggle with that are not ours alone, and thus not ours to share.  And certainly, we wish to avoid whining or complaining and do our utmost to maintain a positive perspective.  Given.

But if we happen to be people who preach vulnerability and honesty regularly - those who share struggles in the past tense willingly, if not always easily - and very certainly, if we are those who often find ourselves offering advice out of our "past lessons" - can we not also be willing to share (with wisdom) those that are still "in process"?

My hunch is that we don't because we are deeply afraid that we will be greeted with fast fixes and easy solutions, and not really heard.  That we'll be judged.  That the clock will start ticking for us to figure this out. That maybe our worst fears are true, and we really are the only ones who are still wrestling with this.  Or maybe people just won't know how to respond and it'll be "a conversation killer" or we'll be labeled "the girl who is ______" or maybe it'll just be really awkward.  We'll get a pat on the back, some stock advice, and then others will either move on, or dwell there forever not allowing us to be the dynamic human beings that we are and actually grow and find our diamonds through the rough.  That the real vulnerability of putting our raw selves out there will leave us just that - raw, vulnerable, and exposed.  And even more alone than we were before.

Lest you think I am waxing poetic, using far too many words, as usual, let me be clear: this is me.  I am excellent at being open about struggles, once I am through them.  Or have a plan.  Or feel that I have learned a [valuable] lesson out of them.  But not so great about real-time transparency.

And while that keeps the waters clearer for everyone else, I don't know that it's always the healthiest pattern for any of us.  See, I think we wrestlers - and I think that actually includes most of us - more than any wisdom or advice, we need to know that we're not alone.   That struggle, that rough patches, are okay.  That we make it through them, that there are others ahead of us on the journey, absolutely.  But we also, like AA members, need brothers and sisters who are beside us in the journey, wrestling together, as well as those ahead of us, and those we lead as well.  And often times the only way we find those companions is by giving voice to where we wrestle, in present tense.  Inviting companions on the journey, if you will.

In all fairness, on the other side of the proverbial vulnerability coin, we (I, at least - I'm assuming I'm not the only one?!) are also hesitant to talk about our strengths and gifts, places where we do have wisdom, things we love about ourselves - perhaps because we don't really have the vernacular to do so without sounding arrogant or boastful.  I always feel a little embarrassed and feel like I need to qualify any statement of that nature.  Or, in my less healthy moments, plant hints so that someone else will say it about me so that I can humbly bow my head and politely deny it, and then instruct my minions with my wealth of knowledge and wisdom.  [sound familiar?] At which point the strength has become neither helpful to someone else nor a healthy appraisal of self.

But this is also vulnerability - and a healthy, humble, and honest assessment of self.  And if I can be honest - this one is far harder for me to do than the former.  But a healthy exercise for me to do nonetheless. [try it: what do you love about yourself?!]

Perhaps you are better at one of these than the other.

So where am I going with this?

I have this crazy idea that I'm going to start something new here... 

... that I'm going to take the first step, hoping that some of you will follow after, and share - in real time - five current places of wrestling for me.  And five current things that I consider strengths in myself, that I love about who I am and the ways that I relate to others.  One a day, over the course of ten posts. [but no promises that they will be consecutive days...]

I promise, I will do this [in a paragraph or two?] briefly.  Without attempting to summarize or come to a clean conclusion.  And conversely, without embarrassment or qualifications.

They will be a wide variety of wrestlings and things I love - some bigger, some smaller - all weighed with discretion for contextual appropriateness before sharing.  But each real in its own wrestling and blessing.  I totally thought these out this morning while waiting for my annual well-patient OBGYN appointment.  [TMI? Probably.  But I totally did just so you know.]

Perhaps you will follow along.  Perhaps you won't.  But if you do, I hope it will in some small way encourage you.

Because it is in fact vulnerability, may I make one teeny tiny request?

Should you happen to share a similar struggle, or have already been through it, and feel you have wisdom to offer, perhaps a well-received response would be along the lines of:

... Offering empathy and encouragement - avoiding pithy and trite phrases as much as possible.  Consider how you can bless gifts and struggle with your words and your responses.

... Not minimizing active struggle by jumping straight to solution or advice.  Leaving the ball in our court as to whether we're ready for advice, or just need to know that we're not alone.

And if you are willing, would you consider sharing out loud, in social media, one thing that you really love about yourself (#WhatILikeAboutMe)?  And maybe one place that you are actively wrestling?

Let's see what happens.  But here we go...

6 months and oh so adorable!

Happy 6+ months, E!  [You hit this milestone a week and a half ago, but since this is the only baby booking that Mommy is doing, we're going to do it anyhow! :)] I say this every time, but I can't believe how fast time is flying - it seems like you are growing up overnight these days!  And Daddy and I are absolutely loving getting to be your parents.  It seems like every day you wrap us (and your big brother!) more and more around your little fingers...  we love you so very much!

Your Profile
At your 6 month appointment, you were 27.5 inches long and 16.4 lbs - very tall (98 percentile), and very lean (just off the 50th percentile)!  Your doctor has tasked us with fattening you up a bit, as you are slightly underweight, so you are enjoying copious amounts of food these days!  You are very content to just hang out or snuggle, and in no hurry to move - you do, however, love to talk with mom and dad, and big brother, and everything goes in your mouth!  You have fair blond-brown hair, and still slightly blue eyes, although like your brothers, they are darkening gradually.  You are the happiest, most smily, trusting kiddo - you greet everyone and anyone everywhere with a huge grin.  And, at long last, you seem to have outgrown your digestive issues, for which we are so thankful! This is the first full month without digestive fussiness, and the reflux has improved dramatically with solids. You are sleeping well (through the night, starting at 5 months), eating fairly well now, and grinning all the time.

Thing One and Thing Two are virtually inseparable

Loving our Solid Foods!

Things You've Learned
You are quite adroit at rolling from your tummy to back, and can do back to tummy, but haven't mastered it on your own yet.  You are very close to sitting on your own, but still like to flop over for a snuggle instead of stay independently up.  You are "worm" scooting in your crib, but not true crawling yet.  I don't think it's far off though.  You started solid foods at 6 months, and are very proud of your ability to put food in your own mouth, and very insistent that no one but you gets to hold the spoon.  You appear to be a righty, at least at first glance.

Baptism by Dan V

You were also baptized this month, at Mommy and Daddy's home church - with all of Daddy's family in attendance!  You smiled and wiggled and seemed totally indifferent to the whole experience!  Your brother loved the microphone and wanted to make a speech on your behalf (or at least hold the microphone!)

Family Baptism photo

Your Firsts

• Solid foods (6 mo) - current favorite is sweet potatoes and avocados
• Christmas (5 mo 3 wk) - we celebrated with all of Daddy's family, up in New Hampshire
• Meeting all of your aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents and great-grandparents
• Sharing a room with your brother (at 6 mo) - you both LOVE it and spend your settling time grinning at each other and talking - and surprisingly, most nights, you both sleep well
• Big cold - icky yucky - but you have handled it like a champ.  Like every child except your big brother, you hate the booger sucker, but other than that, have handled it stellarly.
• Tooth (at 6 mo 1 wk)- finally!  We have one in and it looks like 3 more close behind
• Snowfall - you were unimpressed

Playing in the snow with Mommy and Grandma - not sure what Mommy's face is doing :-P

Things You Like

• Your brother - always and forever, he is the very tip top of your list
• When Daddy tickles you or tosses you (gently) in the air
• Sweet potatoes and avocados
• Feeding yourself (and chewing on everything)
• Snuggle-time with mommy (or really anyone)
• Reading stories (and chewing on books, let's be honest)
• Smiling

Christmas in NH with Family

Christmas morning 2014

Family picture, Christmas 2014

Christmas morning 2014

Snuggles with mommy, Christmas morning

We love you so very very much, sweet E!  We are so very proud of the little boy that you are, and delighted that we get to be your parents and walk with you each step of the way!  Thank you, for bringing us so much joy and laughter each day!

6 months old!

in the trenches of motherhood

Can I tell you that I love my kids more than I ever thought possible?

That from the moment we found out we were pregnant, to the moment I hollered pushing them out and they hollered back in return, to the first time I held each of them, to the giggles at each other that threaten to burst my heart wide open all over again... in each of those moments, I have loved more fiercely, more deeply, more sweetly than I ever thought possible.  And that love just continues to grow, without signs of stopping.  I would do anything for those little boys.  Anything.  In a heartbeat.

... unless it's respond to "maaaaaa-maaaaa" again for the 20089234rd time this morning.

You moms of toddlers, babies, infants (teenagers, tweens too?) you know what I'm talking about.  Let's shoot straight for just a hot second, mkay?

We love our kiddos to death.

But we are "le tired" and "well then have a nap" is not an option for us. And the missiles are already firing.  And if you have more than one, "nap while they're napping" is a sweet and blissful dream that we haven't gotten to visit in a while.  Truthfully.

And while I love my mommy blogs, I have read a few too many lately that seem to dichotomize how deeply we love our kids with the reality that we're tired.  And sometimes driven crazy by our littles.  That we sometimes miss our "pre-kids" lives, even while we would never dream of trading the richness and beauty of our crazy lives now.  I've felt the guilt of talking about how much my toddler is driving me crazy with his wonderful curiosity and wicked smart little brain (for reals, the kid knows almost all his letters and can count to twenty with only a few sezzenba-teens inserted and he's not even two yet. #mombrag).  And you can bet your hot cup of coffee that I never get to drink a hot cup of coffee anymore because we have to do that together all.day.long.  But if I say that out loud, that I'm going a little bit crazy, it must mean that I'm failing to "treasure the moments" or "enjoy it while they're little" or going to miss out on it and then "they grow up so fast."  Say it on facebook sometime, and see how many comments it takes before someone says that.  I'd give you three tops, bless their hearts.

It feels a little too either/or - either mommy blogs are totally sarcastic about mommyhood and the craziness of parenting and all the poop (literally and figuratively, because let's be honest, there's SO much poop) OR they're sweet and lovely, easy fix proposals, cleaned up more than today's G rated movies, that frankly make me either cry sweet tears and want another baby now (what?!) or feel *poopy* about my current level of frustration about all the poop and other things equally inane.

Right?  Tell me I'm not the only one.

I hate the feeling that admitting things are messy, exhausting or chaotic, without a pretty conclusion, somehow makes us feel like we need to clarify, "but I really love my kids" as if that was not understood.

Because... isn't that just motherhood?  A love and life so fierce and so strong and so beautiful that it cannot be explained in words, amidst a chaos of unknowns and so.many. graham cracker crumbs and all that poop and mind-numbing exhaustion and angst of trying to figure out how do I help my child with ____, coupled with laughter and smiles so wide they make your face hurt.

My sweet, joyful, contented youngest son was colicky for the first four and a half months of his life.  I say colicky, because I don't really have a word otherwise - but I know that it's not fully accurate, for those mamas that do have a truly colicky baby.  What I mean by that is - at least two if not more feedings a day, he would be writhing, screaming, and fighting against me, as if in pain.  Otherwise he was happy, but nursing was anything but pleasant or beautiful.  But he wouldn't take a bottle, period (and yes, we tried everything) and so to feed him, this was our only option.  [Yes, we talked to his doctor, we tried dietary changes for us both, we tried medicines, we tried everything short of feeding him while I stood on my head while drinking a gallon of southern half-sweetened iced tea through a catheter.]  For four and a half months.  It was unpredictable, inexplicable, and made leaving the house brutal.  I used to look forward to being woken up in the middle of the night for feedings, because those were the only feedings that were predictably always peaceful and sweet.  And then all of a sudden, at four and a half months, after a week where I thought it could not possibly get worse, all of a sudden, it stopped.  And just like that, my happy, easy-going, trusting baby became a happy baby while eating as well.   His doctor says they sometimes just have to outgrow it.  Whatever it was, I'll take it.  Hallelujah.

But you know what?  In the midst of all that crazy, exhausting, agony of trying to get him to eat and simultaneously feeling like I was torturing him, I was and am head over heels for that little guy.  He's my snuggle bug, my easy-going, forgiving, sweet little guy - the cutest little button, with the sweetest laugh, and the biggest grin when his brother walks into the room.  Even in the midst of my tears, on those awful bad horrible days, when I just needed a break, I could not imagine loving him more.  And yet that love just continue(d/s) to grow.

But sometimes, in the midst of that, I just needed to be able to say "This is hard right now" "I am so frustrated right now" "I need a break" - without feeling like I'd either get reminded to treasure the moments or like I needed to quickly follow it with a treatise defending my love for my child.

Right?

Can that be a grace that we give one another?

To seek to honor our kids in what we share, yes.  To not continually whine or complain, absolutely.   But, yet, not to photoshop our lives either.  To offer helpful feedback when it's requested.  But not to instantaneously jump there.  To dwell with one another, offer grace to one another, and bless each other to be messy and chaotic and totally in love with our messy, chaotic kiddos.  To sometimes just say "That sounds really hard.  I'm sorry." rather than jumping to a proposed solution.

I am incredibly grateful to be a part of a number of mom's groups, friendships, and communities where women are can be honest with one another about the hard, exhausting parts, and without that being heard as antithetical to loving our kids.  And I am beyond thankful for that.  I don't know how I would have made it through those months - or how I'll make it through toddlerhood - without those relationships.

Can we be that community to one another?  Can we breathe that grace over one another?

For the mama who is exhausted, missing sleep and her previous life, can we give her the freedom to not be "loving every minute of it"?  That we know she loves her son or daughter and it's okay to admit that it's hard. For the mama who doesn't know what to do next, can we give her the grace to know that she's not alone?  That it's okay.  That we've been there too, and we also don't have all the answers.  That her love for her kids is showing even in her "I don't know."  For the mother whose toddler is driving her up a wall right now, can we give her set her free with a cup of hot coffee and maybe an afternoon off, and the truth that she's doing a great job.  It's okay that she gets frustrated and tired. It's okay that she needs a break, because tomorrow, she'll be right back there, exactly where her kids need her.

Motherhood often feels in the trenches.  And can be incredibly lonely. And exhausting.  Even while it is one of the most beautiful, fulfilling experiences I have ever known.  We need one another.  It's not either/or messy or beautiful.  It's always both.  And when we can be for one another, in the messy parts as well as the beautiful, then we're actually in the trenches, together.

... and I really love my kids. :)