revisiting 29 things to do before I turn 30...

So for a little bit of accountability, and to remind myself of these things, I decided it was time for me to check in on my "goals" list for this year, and see how we were doing... / if I had done any of them!  So here we go...

Final tally:  out of 29 to do items, including tallying 50% completes, I have done 18 out of 29 (62%) and I still have 3 months to go!  Feel free to pick one of the ones I haven't completed and help a sister out... :)

1. Climb Mt. Washington - can be on foot or in a car, I'm not discriminatory, but I've lived here long enough that it's time to just do it already. Nope, haven't done it yet.  Volunteers to drive up next month?

2.  Have a BBQ in our backyard 50%?  We grilled steaks outside for ourselves?  Twice?  Since the season is almost over, not sure anything more is going to happen there...

3.  Have my +1 party (finally)* (*where all of my friends come over and bring a friend that they think I would enjoy knowing, but haven't met yet - also known as Jon's least favorite party idea ever...) Nope, nor have I managed to convince Jon to be more open to it!

4.  (Re)establish the Etsy shop that I've been thinking about doing for.ev.er. We'll say 50%.  I have about 75% of the starting merchandise that I'd want, and have been actively working on it.

5.  Eat a really really tasty steak dinner, with a good red wine.  Check and check, several times now that baby boy is here.

6.  Go away for a weekend or even just an overnight, sans kiddo(s). Technically we did this when we went to the hospital to have E, but since we came home with another baby, and the overnight part involved the oh so fun part of labor and delivery, I don't know that that counts.

7.  Make our own cheese.  Nope, not yet.

8.  Complete a second half marathon. Nope, and I don't think it's going to happen until the spring.  Gotta give the old body time to work back up to it, we did just have another (large) baby.

9.  Build a snowman.  Check.  A very little one.

10. Drink more water than coffee most days. Check, almost every day.  Being pregnant helped a lot with that one.  And now, I actually don't crave coffee nearly as much.  Addiction, managed.

11. Have snow on my birthday!  done-skies!

12. Blog more often, and more regularly.  If not blog, then at least write personally.   Jon suggests I quantify this, so how about "more than once a month"? We'll say 50%.  I haven't made the more than once a month goal, but I have done it more than I was for a while.

13. Invent something - every Friday watching Shark Tank, I think... "I should do that..."  Bam. 2014.  Nope.  And while I have an idea, I have no idea how to actualize it.  

14. Have someone write a song for me **ahem** musically talented family.  Nope.  But... wink wink... family, there is still plenty of time.

15. Begin the process of thinking about buying a house...  and while not necessarily buying one, figuring out what comes next in our process, and maybe doing that? Like reading a book on it.  Or picking a location.  Check.  We've spent a lot of time thinking about this one, reading about it, and making calculations (and crying), and thinking some more.  Not there yet, but we've started the process.

16.  Read books regularly.  We'll say check.  I always have a book on my nightstand, with a bookmark in it.  And supposedly I have even finished a few.

17.  Find a "chick flick" or "rom com" that Jon doesn't hate.  He swears he doesn't hate them all.  And we have successfully watched a few without him mocking them, so we'll call that a moderate success.

18.  Actually make one of the crafty ideas (not food, I do that all the time) that I pin on Pinterest.  I'd love to say I have - I used this for inspiration to make S and E's door signs - but only sort of.  We'll call it done, otherwise my stats are somewhat depressing. 

19.  Watch past seasons of Modern Family.  Check and Check.

20.  Go to either a Pats game or a Bruins game - filling out my experience of Boston sports.  **Jon might have contributed slightly to this one, as I started running out of inspiration around #12.**  Nope, much to my husband's chagrin.

21.  Make plans for Hendig #3 in 2015 - ladies, you know who you are, I'm looking at you... Check.  Now to buy that airline ticket and get myself down there!

22.  Learn something new about myself (yes, I'm resorting to intangibles... I'm running out of ideas, but still want to make them realistic goals...) Yup.  I learned that I am ambitious (we knew that), and (new discovery) when I'm at my healthiest, it makes me an adventure seeker and risk taker and someone who loves to try new things.  And when I'm not acting out of a healthy mental, emotional, spiritual place, that ambition manifests itself through defensive, clingy, climbing attempts - and a hunger for success as something which will define me.

23.  Move out of my table against the wall (at work) into something that has walls (!walls!)  Check.  Just did that by quitting my job with the table by the wall earlier this week and hypothetically working out of my home (which yes, has walls!)

24.  Roast marshmallows over a fire outside!  And introduce S to s'mores!  Urban camping, take 3? We'll say 50% - we roasted marshmallows over the stove burner AND introduced S to s'mores.

25.  Get the bed (and a bunch of other misc stuff) out of our dining room (into an intentional space)  CHECK CHECK AND CHECK.  Our dining room is only half cluttered and I am SO SO happy!

26.  Learn how to effectively remove stains from clothing.  Check-ish.  When do you ever fully learn?  But I bought a book on how to do laundry, and I've been reading it, and I've learned a few tricks along the way.  So we'll say it's done.

27.  Send more letters and cards the old fashioned way, regularly.  Check.  I've been trying to do this for birthdays, and at least a few times a month.

28.  Take the GRE (pretty sure I said this last year too)... Nope.  We'll save it for next years to-do list.

29.  Return all the things that I've borrowed but forgotten (or failed) to return thus far.  Almost entirely checked off - still have Krystal and Jordan's doorway Johnny Jump up, but come Thanksgiving, we're done!  Unless I've forgotten something, in which case, please remind me...

building houses and planting gardens

I moved to Boston seven Augusts ago for a job that I wasn't sure I wanted, but was fairly sure I was called to for that season in life.  I moved here, single, knowing scarcely anyone, a southern stranger in a strange northern land - scared, but excited; on an adventure, and on a journey.  And six years in, now, I have been here longer than the average Boston tenure.

When Jon and I were dating, then engaged and debating which city to make our home in, and then young married, making our home in this strange city, one of the passages of Scripture that was thematic for me was Jeremiah 29 - not well-known verse eleven, but the ones preceding it:

4 This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: 5 “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. 7 Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” 8 Yes, this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: “Do not let the prophets and diviners among you deceive you. Do not listen to the dreams you encourage them to have. 9 They are prophesying lies to you in my name. I have not sent them,” declares the Lord.  10 This is what the Lord says: “When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. 11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

It's inscribed and framed on our bedroom wall, because we have prayed it, promised it, and are striving to live it out daily - not so much because we consider ourselves in exile, but because we have found ourselves and felt ourselves called away from the place that once was home, from our families and what was our dominant culture.

For several years now, the part of this passage that stood out to me and that I prayed and sang and hoped for was verse 7, of seeking the peace and prosperity of the city in which I found myself away from home.  I started my six years in this city singing, "God of This City" with a new and hopeful heart, and I'm still singing it, even though I am no longer new, sometimes struggle with hope, and have seen both the good and the harder parts of this city.  And I love her, with every part of my being, and call her home now, more than anywhere else.

But I think subconsciously, I have always seen it as a temporary place.  Each year, evaluating, is this the year that we move? Saving moving boxes, keeping things for "when we have a bigger house," or "when we're somewhere more permanent" or "when we settle somewhere."

But Jon and I realized earlier this week, that something has changed in us - not deliberately necessarily, but on a heart-level, absolutely.  We've intentionally and unintentionally decided to stop living anticipating a departure or waiting for a future permanence.

We threw out the moving boxes.

We've planted a garden.  We're eating copious amounts of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, and strawberries from it. 

Even though we're still renting, we're putting in the time and money to make our home beautiful.  We put shelves in the closets, bought new curtains that fit the windows we have, planted a tree, and edged the beds out front.  Come fall, I'll plant more bulbs. 

We got rid of the bed in our dining room that we were storing for "when we move somewhere more permanent."

Since moving here, we have gotten married.  We now have two beautiful sons, and will take and bless any future children that we might have, daughters and sons.  Our number has increased.

We're getting to know our neighbors, investing in our neighborhood associations, and getting involved in the issues that are important to our community.  We have made lasting friendships.  We have put down roots.

We are very tangibly living the first six verses of the passage.  We have stopped living as though we were leaving any day now, and have made our home here, for however long we find ourselves dwelling in this apartment and this city.   We still pray for her peace and prosperity, but less as an other, and more as our city.  Our home, even as it's away from our home of origin.

I don't know how long we will find ourselves here.   It might be that we will move next year, but it might be that we'll be here for the next 60 years, and will find wives for our sons and husbands for our daughters here.

It's not a hopeless thing, that we stop living in anticipation of leaving...

It's actually a firm belief that God has blessing for us here.  Plans to prosper us here.  Plans for our future.  And plans for our present.  A decision to believe Him, that He wants good things for us here right now, not in the future when we "settle down" or "find our permanent home."

And a decision to recognize, believe, and receive that blessing now, not later.

And if the time comes to leave, we will leave and go where we are called.  And make no mistake, we know that pulling up roots is hard.  But a well-rooted plant is transplanted far better than a plant with shallow roots that never knows the blessing of rich soil and deep water.   A well-rooted plant thrives, grows, and blossoms, bringing benefit wherever it is.

It feels like a new thing to me.  A place of abundance, not lacking.  And our present invitation. :)

Growing pains

Earlier this week, our youngest son pooped in the bathtub, sparking a chain of events with the strands of icky yellow poo rising to the surface of the water, surrounding our then clean child, leading to Jon's loud exclamation "awww buddy," which startled eldest son and culminated in a major meltdown for him, followed by Jon jumping to get up, in response to both sons' prompts, and promptly depositing both his hands in an old squishy banana left by eldest son on the bathroom floor, right under Jon's leg.

So to recap: youngest son swimming in his own feces (happily and unfazed - pretty sure he tried to eat it, truth be told), eldest son in total meltdown mode, and husband slip-n-sliding on a very old, very gross, squishy banana.  And we weren't even at bedtime yet.

Parenthood at its finest.

I should mention, that sans banana, this exact same scene repeated itself the next night.  Lord have mercy.

Apparently, as this scene indicates, and so they tell me, I am now the mother of two - two adorable, often loud, often messy - little boys.  And I love them fiercely, undeniably, and unchangeably. 

And even though I've been "mommy" for over two years now - since that first moment that the second line appeared on that first little stick, and we found out that we were going to be parents - even though we've survived newborn nights once, and are pushing through toddlerhood days and newborn nights take two with (enough) energy (most days) - even though I have heard "mama-mama-mama-mama" more times daily than I can count - even though - it still feels like I am going through a bit of an identity crisis once again.

Yes, I've been here before. But somehow, having two kids now, the mommy part feels a bit more identity-ish.  Other moms with two+ kids, help me out here -  I'm not quite sure how to put it into words.  It's never been a part-time job.  It's always been 100%.  But now, [is it possible?] it's gotten even more real.  Mom with a capital M.  Or perhaps it's just become a more dominant part of the way that I'm perceived and received and has higher impact on the decisions that I make and the paths that I take.  Maybe it just feels more like it's more of me.  And that other parts of me are relegated a bit more to the side.  And I'm wrestling with how I feel about that - and where I go from there.

[sidebar: still categorically vetoing the mom jeans, don't worry.]

I don't have a pretty, well-wrapped-up conclusion.

A funny story and open-ended observation pretty much is where I am.  I am more than "just a mom" (the hogwash that that implies - there is no such thing as "just" a mom) - and I am still fiercely wrestling with how to foster and grow and develop the parts of non-mom-ish me that give life to me and ultimately bless my family with my health and vitality (how's that for a long, poorly-constructed, awkward sentence? Oh wait.  There's more.) - but I'm also recognizing that who I am is not static and is morphing with the growth of our family.

I guess where I'm going is that I'm trying to figure out how to live fully into my identity as a mom, which now feels much bigger than it used to, while at the same time neither foolishly pining after who I used to be OR losing and forgetting who I still am outside of my (now often) loudly proclaimed (and often demanded) title of mommy.  And sometimes the how to do that is not entirely clear.

It's a fun ride and I wouldn't trade it for the world - and please don't mistake, I am so grateful to have the privilege of being mommy and figuring out how to be me fully.  I love being both!  But like a butterfly, sometimes a changing identity requires some time in the cocoon - some time in the dark, where all parts are not laid clear, and the future butterfly is not yet seen.

And that's where I am right now:  in the cocoon.  Trying to find the fine balance of being all of me, even as who I am morphs and grows.

:)

- KD

Chillin' at One Month

Happy one month to E!

Time has absolutely flown by since you were born, little man!  It's hard to believe that you are already one month old.  It seems like you have always been a part of our family and simultaneously like you were just born a few hours ago!  Either way, you are a precious gift and a delight in our days and we love you immensely!

This is you and me, minutes after you were born and as we were getting ready to leave the hospital.  You were 8 lbs, 7 oz and 21 inches long when you were born - surprising us all with your size, but especially your height!  You look very tall, with very long legs!  At your one month check-up today, you clocked in at a solid 10 lbs, 13 oz and 23 inches long.  You are a healthy growing boy!  Everyone says you look a lot like your Daddy - and you seem to have some of his personality too!

You like to sleep a lot - averaging 22-23 hours a day when you were first born.  Even now, you are happy to sleep away most of the day, 17-19 hours a day, with shorter periods of awakeness in the morning and the late afternoon.  You are very chill most of the time and love being held by mommy or daddy, or watching your big brother play nearby.   This is you with your Daddy and big brother at one month old (yesterday) - you narrowly missed also being a 28th baby (Daddy is July 28th, S is January 28th), but we took pictures together on the 29th regardless!

A snapshot of you this month:

• You have a strong neck and can turn your head from side to side really well - you also are pretty good at hold your head up on your own for a few seconds!  And when we do tummy time, you wiggle so much that you have almost scooted off the mat a few times.
• You have a great milk coma grin and smile almost every time you eat - we can't wait to see you smile knowingly soon!
• You had your first bottle from Daddy at 2 weeks and did great!  You eat about 3.5 to 4 oz every feeding - you are a fast eater, and eat well almost all of the time!  
• You love the water and bathtime- and have since the first time we put you in the tub!
• You are wearing 0-3 month clothing, and some 3 month clothing - almost none of your newborn clothes fit any more, mostly because of your height!
• On most nights, you sleep in 3-4 hour stretches - except during growth spurts!  Your personal record at the moment is somewhere around 5 hours, but that hasn't been repeated! Currently, you do not like going to bed at night, but do just fine once you fall asleep!
• You are fascinated by your big brother, and respond to his voice and presence similarly to mommy or daddy's.  I think he'll probably get your first smile!  He loves kissing you and poking you and pointing at you all.the.time.  For the most part, you are very patient.
• You LOVE being in the Ergo or the Moby wrap - this is one of your happy places!  And on days when you're tired or fussy, you calm down very quickly when mommy wears you.  You also love being swaddled, as long as we let you get your hand free to keep by your face.
• You currently hate the car seat and being in the car, but you are getting a little bit better!
• You're very calm most of the time, and just seem to be taking in the world around you!

We love you so much, E, and are loving watching you grow and change and become your own man!

Dear Future Self,

Dear future-self and parent of newborn son #2,

In the past 16 months, you have become quite the expert on parenting your now 16-month-old child. You feel comfortable, most days. You actually sleep most nights. And that panic of new parenting, that’s a memory not an active reality. I am writing you this note because in roughly six weeks or less, you're going to have another baby - and some of all of most of that expertise is going to come crashing down around your ears.  Surprise!  He'll be his own man and probably very different from his big brother... and oh wait, you'll still have a toddler too!

 I'm writing you this letter to remind you, when life feels crazy, that you'll make it through; to remind you of the things that you’ve learned; and to remind you of things that I am certain that you will forget or have already forgotten about those first few weeks of joy and delight [and sleeplessness]. So here we go:

 1) I know you think you are a superhero – and the reality is you are. In just a few short weeks, you will have either pushed a baby out of a unimaginably-small sized opening, or endured a major surgery to physically remove another human being (and an organ that you grew yourself what?!) from your body. That’s plenty of superhero-y-ness. That withstanding, you will then bleed for longer than is kosher to discuss [sorry readers!].  And your body will need to heal. Please give yourself grace to physically recover, and just acknowledge that you can’t actually do everything physically that you could right up to before giving birth. Please let people help you – and please tell people that you need them to help you.

 2) The emotional roller coaster that follows giving birth is nothing to shake a stick at – even though you feel crazy, I promise you, you felt this way last time too. Postpartum depression (PPD) is real, and if you think you’re wrestling with feelings that are self or other-destructive, or just too dark to handle yourself, please ask for help. But the reality is, even outside of PPD, remember how much your hormones fluctuate once a month, and then multiply that by 9 months times generating an organ and pushing out a human being, and know that it’s okay if you cry or have more emotions than normal or even feel a little bit crazy. It’s actually pretty darn normal for women who have babies – it’s just most people don’t talk about it or they’re far enough out that they don’t remember. You will return to sanity, I promise.

3) Laugh often.  As much as you possibly can, really.  It's surprisingly far more cathartic than worry, and makes all of those life-altering and cataclysmic decisions seem much more realistically-sized.  Plus kids are really funny, as are you as a new parent, if you don't take yourself too seriously.

4) The sleep deprivation is real – even if your baby is a good sleeper. Don’t underestimate how that plays into the equation as well. Imagine finals week on repeat for the first 6 weeks of this tiny human’s life. Which speaking of, I don’t know if this is actually factual for every baby or not, but I seem to remember that six weeks was somewhat of a magic number with S. So hang on for that. And don't get into serious conversations or attempt to make any permanent parenting decisions with your hubby after midnight.  Just trust me, and don't.  Also give yourself grace if you make up words, and struggle with full adult sentences.  Like blerg merg merg blerg.  Yeah.

5) Wear make-up occasionally - and clothes that you wear outside of the home.   You know, like pants not made of stretchy material. It seems counter-intuitive, but it will help you feel more human on those days that we just have to survive through!

6) Even though you SWORE that you would never be one of those parents who would proffer unsolicited baby advice, at some point after your little munchkin is born, you will find yourself opening your mouth around some other parent of a wee one, and advice will be spouting out.  And the reality is – you do this primarily because you want to be helpful, yes, but more so than that, because you just really want to share all those mundane things that make up most of your days and reality is, no one else really wants to hear about them. So when you meet a new(er) parent than you, you start gushing because you just want to connect – to share experiences. The reality is – there are better ways of connecting... like listening.  After all, that's mostly what you want, right?  So do yourself a favor this time around, and don't do that again.  Ask how it's going, empathize, but leave advice behind unless its requested.

7) Never regret the snuggle time - with the big one or the little one...  you'll miss it later when they decide they like wiggling way more than sitting still.

8) Every parent hits a point where you are just SO angry at this little teeny tiny bundle of cuteness that refuses to sleep or has just jettisoned poop all over you or just won't stop crying... please repeat after me - this feeling of being out of control, angry, and like you want to throw in the towel?  It is completely normal.  It does not make you a bad parent.  Every parent hits that point.  Every parent wrestles with those feelings.  It's completely normal.  What matters most is how you respond to those feelings and emotions.  How you act in response to them.  So put the baby down in a safe place, let him cry for a few minutes - he'll be fine, and you need it - and give yourself space to collect yourself, to calm down, and then respond.  Don't guilt yourself out for hitting your wall - everyone does.  Do what you need to do in order to respond well, out of love and not anger.

9) Dates are super important - make it happen!  Trust me, hard as it is to leave a little squirt with someone else, it's fantastic to come home rested and refreshed and more connected with your spouse.  And somehow the baby always seems to do okay too!

10) Remember that you matter too - and taking care of yourself is important for taking care of your husband and your kiddos.  That you are mom - and will always be mom - but that you are also Kristen, and when you are the healthiest version of you, that you are also a healthier mom as well.  You are not the sum of your children - nor is your identity defined solely by them. Take time to cultivate and foster things that you enjoy, even if it's just in the 5 minutes before bed.  I know there is NEVER enough time - and you have to carve it out of time for something else, but trust me, it is worth it.  It will sustain you on days that are hard - and it will bless your children and your husband in ways that you cannot imagine.

Remember, parenthood is a journey, an adventure, and a long trail, not a short one.  Remember how much fun you get to have with that teeny tiny human - so much that will be the same as it was with his brother.  So much that will be totally new and different.

Remember that God specifically gave you - not someone else who is more whatever - this beautiful baby.  And is equipping you - not someone else - to be their parent(s).  Lean on Him, and trust Him that He knows what He is doing.  You will make mistakes, yes.  Absolutely.  But you are the parent(s) that that He has chosen for them - Be faithful.  Be humble and repentant.  Surround yourself with community.  And trust that God knew what He was doing.  You are the right parent(s) for the job.  And you will make it through.

With love, for your future reflection, and those craziest of moments,
KD

Motherhood - finding joy in the chaos

Dear son(s),

This is coming a day late, and probably a dollar short, but here it is regardless.  I am so grateful for the opportunity to be a mommy - and specifically, your mommy.  S, with your advent, I became mom for the first time, and buckatoo (name forthcoming with your arrival) - you have doubled our joy and we can't wait to meet you.  Motherhood is a gift that I neither anticipated nor understood fully before these past 16 months, but for which and by which I am joyful and forever changed.

Yesterday, Mother's Day, was a hallmark of motherhood... S, you woke up, bright and early, ready to go at 5am - sleeping in apparently only happens at Grandma's house.  Your daddy generously got up with you - and prepared to make mommy a gloriously extravagant breakfast in bed, complete with Neighborhood Restaurant style cream of wheat and Eggs Benedict, coffee and fresh fruit - and a beautiful necklace from our favorite children's story.  

Meanwhile, you, delighted with exploration, learned how to open your bubble bath bottle, and with it, turned the kitchen floor into a slip-n-slide - leading to Daddy, slippin' and slidin' with the bacon pan, ending up with first degree burns on his thighs, from bacon fat poured generously all over himself (breakfast, however, was still delicious - and merely added to by mildly-too-soon-but-it's-still-funny giggles over the combination of best-laid plans and toddlerhood).  

Followed by grins, and snuggles and cuddles, and enthusiastic running through Urgent Care and church squealing "AH-VAHVAHVAH" in delight - closest interpretation we can translate that to is "I love you," but we're still not sure. Pulling out broccoli and lima beans everywhere, as you gleefully chortled your way through the hallways, running away from your very pregnancy heavy mommy and your crispy-fried daddy, giving grins to sick toddlers and headaches to hungover teenagers.

Followed by enthusiastic play in the sunshine and the joy of water splashing and spilling everywhere - with soaked toddlers (and parents) and happy grins and blood lips from too many teeth and too much toddler enthusiasm amidst parental tiredness and disappointment in moments that didn't go according to plans, but even so, honored the joy that is parenthood.

Because son, this is parenthood - well-laid plans and unexpected chaos.  Joy, and tiredness.  Frustration, pain, and inexplicable delight. Messes. Self-sacrifice.  Gratitude in the moment, and delayed gratitude.  Messy joy.  Choosing to laugh rather than cry because really, there is no other way. And joy so inexplicable that only tears can measure it fully.

I love the idea of mother's day - of flowers and breakfasts in bed and sweet notes of thanksgiving - and I will happily receive any and all of those with delight!  And, should there be a day without chaos, I will also happily receive that as well.  Just tell me when and where.

But the reality is - if all my eggs are in a basket for just this one perfect day - where I feel appreciated, loved, chaos-free and honored - then I will inevitably feel disappointed, both in myself and my ability to be the perfect mom, worthy of the facebook accolades of praise given on this one day, and in my experience of motherhood as well as Mother's Days.  Far better, however, I am learning that the joy in motherhood is found in the chaos, not in its absence.   

Last night, S, you woke up a few hours after bedtime, I'm guessing from a nightmare - screaming, yet exhausted.  When I went in to pick you up, you, my very active, never-stopping toddler, cuddled into my embrace and wrapped your little chubby arms around mine, holding on for dear life, as you gradually hiccuped yourself into quiet.  And we rocked and we sang like we used to when you were little...  and you, with your soft baby breath, held on to mommy and let me be your rock in the midst of your storm, even as you reminded me of what it really looks like to find joy in the midst of chaos.

This, little one, is the joy in motherhood.

I will never be a perfect mom to either one of you boys.  I will fail you, and yet my strength will come through in my willingness to say I'm sorry and ask for your forgiveness, not in my ability to "do it better." And my strength will be in vulnerability and courage - in a love that is fierce, yet tender, and always longs for the best for you even when you are at your worst.  That knows that I am honored and worthy daily, with or without flowers and chocolates and breakfasts in bed, even when I'm at my worst - and that demonstrates to you daily, through our love, our silliness, and our discipline, the worth and value you have, given not by your Daddy or by me, although we hope to demonstrate it, but ultimately by your Maker that does not depend on your perfection and comes regardless of your performance.

You will never be perfect sons - nor in any way, will you be able to "make me complete." I am assured and certain that by motherhood, I will come more undone.  With each graham cracker crusted fistful of joy and long night awake.

There will be chaos.  There will be failure.  There will be mess.

But the joy is found in the midst of all of that - the giggles, the sun-soaked glee, the AH-VAHVAHVAH lima-bean enthusiasm, and the snuggles in the middle of the night. 

And that is not a consolation prize - that is the prize.  Motherhood is a gift that I will never - would never - exchange or return.  I am a better woman for it.  And I am so deeply deeply honored to be able to be your mommy.  Thank you, for giving me the opportunity, each and every day, to trust Jesus more fully, to need Him more, and to learn to find love and beauty and gratitude in every moment.

With love,

Mommy

Remembering...

[remembering]. and looking forward.

One year ago, on April 15th, 2013, I had the privilege of being at the Boston marathon finish line, volunteering, as I have for each of the previous years that I have been in Boston.  I was a block away from where the bombs went off - and so my experience, while very distinctly etched in my mind, and forever life-changing, was not the same as those who were in imminent danger or those who are known simply as "survivors."  I heard the explosions, saw the smoke, and felt the ground shake, and the subsequent almost unearthly silence, and then mass panic.  And I evacuated and ran with everyone else, arriving home, shaken, changed, and physically unharmed, even as I forever bear the emotional marks of the day.  

You can read my more present tense reflections from those days here, here, and here.

Now a full year plus later, it has surprised me, how long the fear has lasted.  How frequent the flashbacks and how strong the memories.  How ready the tears.  How fierce the love and protectiveness of my city and my friends.

And how much I both want to remember and yet to let it remain in the past and move on.

I can't walk down to Copley library without vivid memories, often goosebumps, and sometimes tears.  I am very aware in crowds now, and in closed in spaces or large crowds, often have an exit strategy figured out.  I tell my family I love them a lot more and don't take those days together for granted.  I identify much more strongly with Boston, and get angry when it seems like the news is looking for an angle, or overusing BostonStrong, turning it into a catch-phrase for media popularity, rather than recognizing the solemnity of recognition that accompanies it for me.  I am proud of our city and our spirit, our culture, and our rough edges and our fierce pride.  Watching the news coverage this week, of survivor stories, and seeing all those images from that day and subsequent days, has just been too much for me this week.  It brings back too many memories and too many emotions of pride mixed with fear mixed with gratitude for life mixed with tears for innocence lost.  

"I remember" is not words for me, but images, sounds, memories, and emotions.  And often tears.

Now, a full year later, there's a lot that I still don't know.  I don't know how long I'll see the smoke in my mind, or how vivid the flashbacks will continue to be - I don't know if I'll ever fully be able to explain to someone else the complexity of emotions that it raises in me.

But I do know this: 

I am grateful for each day of life that I have been given.  

I am grateful to be with my husband and my eldest son today, and to have the privilege of welcoming home my second son very soon.  He wasn't even a twinkle of imagination last year, and feels like a gift in this year.

I swell with pride when I see anything Boston marathon related.

I am celebrating today, watching this years' runners and volunteers.  And reclaiming the day for the full celebration that it always has been.

And even though we have fears, aches, pains, and scars, and weaknesses, Bostonians and runners are resilient and perseverant, and strong.  If you wanted to attack a group that would give up, give in, or be destroyed - then you picked the wrong group.

Fears and weaknesses merely prove our humanity.  How we respond to them - who and what we run towards and for - is what matters... And today, 27,000+ runners are running forward - reclaiming the celebration of the day - and the rest of us, myself as well, we all run forward as well.