Life with Two under Two: Or Fire Hydrant chased by Fire Engine

Life as a mom of two: go.

Yesterday, I made the mistake of thinking that I could go downtown, taking the T, for some mommy time, in the middle of nap-time. [Because as life would have it, almost every mommy thing is schedule right in the middle of when my children sleep.] Foolish foolish mistake.  Cardinal rule of being the mother of two: you do not mess with nap-time.  That is known as sanity time.  The blissful, peaceful return of only having to manage and sooth one child, and or the rare and occasional moments of total alone time if both babes happen to be a-bed.  Glory, Glory, Hallelujah.  Do not mess.

But yesterday... oh yesterday... I did.

S had a great time playing with other kiddos and didn't want to leave.  He thinks the nursery is the greatest thing ever invented.  AND they have snacks!  #win

E fell asleep in the Ergo during the Bible study, and was peacefully quiet most of the time. #win

YES! Win!  Go mommy go!  Oh but wait...

As we boarded the T for our ride home - 3 stops then a 10 minute walk, we were literally that close - eldest son cracked under the pressure of being now an hour late for his nap and becoming hungry and decided that he must.have.crackers.NOW.  And all of them.  And commenced a nasally, whiny, pleading that sounded suspiciously like a fire engine was chasing me down the train car.  Add in the bright red flashing beacon from the glares of fellow passengers, and I'm pretty Station 9 would have welcomed us in with open arms.

At which point, youngest son awoke from his peaceful slumber, overdue to eat, and quite peeved to be made wait.  He's a very peaceful child, very patient, except for when he's not.  And when he's hungry and or tired, and not getting what he wants, well that qualifies as one of those times.  So he begins to scream.  The red-in-the-face-arching-his-back-not-really-taking-breaths kind of screaming, which no amount of shushing or bouncing will calm down.  All he wants and needs in that moment is to eat.  Which you can't really do in the middle of a moving car, when your stop is the next one.

But hey, my body is super responsive to my wailing child, and very good at producing milk, so in the middle of this bedlam, both breasts begin spouting milk, rather like a fire hydrant, staying with our theme.  And of course, my bra and super absorbent pads have shifted, due to said arching-screaming child, so, you guessed it, my little geysers were visibly gushing, soaking me, my shirt, and my screaming child with a waterfall of milk, as the passengers on the train watched in horror.

Guys, I'm pretty sure in three stops, I managed to clear out an entire train car.  And the 3 poor souls who were too nice or too lazy to move either stared in horror or developed an obsession with their shoes and the gum stuck to the train floor.

Longest 17 minutes ever.

By the time we made it home, all three required wardrobe changes, all three were exhausted, and I might have made a s'more for my lunch.  Just sayin'.  And I might have vowed that I was never leaving the house with both ever again.

BUT. The reality is, I will.  I need to.  Those grown-up moments are needed, even if they are costly to have.  The reality is, not all days are that crazy.  The truth is that there are many days filled with laughter as one boys chortles collapse the other boy into an uncontrollable giggle fest in return or we all bask in the fading summer sunlight as the trees begin to turn [for the record, these are probably the moments that you'll see showing up on my facebook newsfeed] or one learns how to say the letter P and says it on repeat over and over and over again, spitting in his delight every time.

The truth is, days like yesterday are just part of the story.  And I tell them because even though they're not the pretty part - though like yesterday, sometimes they're the comic relief - they are a vital part.  A rite of passage sometimes.  A growing point, as I am reshaped and molded in my own character and ability to roll with the tide.  The stuff that adventures are made of definitely. Something to laugh about later (because it is pretty darn funny!) absolutely.  Kids come with all sorts of crazy, bring out all sorts of crazy in me, and require all kinds of creativity.  And two just makes that even more so.

But never before have I enjoyed so much laughter, even if half of it is just having to laugh at our crazy, because otherwise, how do you make it through the days? And life is richer as a result, and I am freer as a result.

We survive the crazy and they grow older day by day until one day we turn around and they're all grown up, and these moments of crazy are fond memories of days gone by.  Or so I've been told by every grandma who stops me on the T, amidst my sometimes screaming children and tells me, barely audibly over said children, to treasure these moments.  And I do.

Even if it's through tears of laughter in the moment, as I geyser my way home, chased by my little red beacon and my noisy little fire engine.

grace sung over me.

This was one of those mornings for the toddler.

One of those mornings where the smallest thing can set him off, where he wants what he wants RIGHT NOW, and where he only has one volume [and it's not calm and quiet].

One of those mornings where you watch the clock and pray that nap-time (a) comes soon and (b) comes with a reset button.

About an hour before nap-time this morning, after two snacks, creative play options, lots of attention, and lots of stories, lots of hugs and kisses, he lost it again.  I don't honestly remember what it was over... it might have been graham crackers or me not giving him the appropriate item that he wanted right.this.minute, or something else, I'm not sure. But there we were, wailing, screaming, and stomping feet in the kitchen, unable to be settled.  At a point where he needed a reset badly, discipline was needed, and I couldn't hear myself think for all the din.

And I was angry.  Frustrated by my screaming, selfish [what toddler isn't?], toddler who was angry and determined that he needed whatever it was and unable to be placated or moved.  Frustrated that with all my attempts to calm him down, to meet his real needs without giving in to his less than healthy desires [like being able to touch the 350 degree oven with his bare hand], that he was still screaming at me.  And I needed to decide a course of action, of discipline, that fit with the strong-willed temper tantrum.  That recognized his tiredness, but that established that current behavior was unacceptable.  But I was too angry to do that with a level head - and first rule of good discipline is try everything possible not to do it out of anger.

So I did what any good parent would do - I put him on the floor, told him to work it out, and got out my measuring cups to make pumpkin bread, and began to sing so that I could tune him out to give me a few minutes to think rationally and decide a course of action.

I began to sing "Amazing Grace."

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

And as I sang, I found myself near tears, as I heard the words through my toddler's temper tantrum.  But deeper than that, as I began to see myself in his temper tantrum, and hear the Lord singing those words over me.

How many times am I likewise unable to be placated or moved? Screaming [internally] and selfishly insisting on whatever it is that I am determined that I need? Ardently demanding what I have decided I must have [unhealthy or dangerous or even unneeded that it might be] while completely missing all of the things that He gives out of the abundance of his good love for me.  Tears streaming down my face, fists shaking in the air, feet stamping the ground... a wretch like me... was lost... was blind...

But now I see.

As my God sings Grace over me.

Grace which is not the punishment my disobedience deserves.  Grace which is good gifts beyond mercy from my just discipline.  Grace which comes in the midst of and over my flailing arms and hot tears and determined insistence that I don't need it.  Grace which calls me back to obedience.  Grace which disciplines me, even as it reminds me of the Father's love for me.  Grace which rescues me from myself.  Grace which sings over me, wooing me home.  Grace which promises good to me, hope, my shield, and my portion - better than my richest self-centered demands.  Grace which gives sight to my eyes, and shows me the ways in which to walk.

Grace which I have received, many many times.  Grace which I know, but often forget.

Somewhere in the middle of that first verse, sung on repeat, just like that, my toddler stopped screaming, and began to play contentedly by himself on the floor by my feet, "baking" with his cheerios and a measuring spoon.   The moment of needed discipline had passed*, and his mood and behavior had returned to a healthy balance [for the moment].  Amazing grace sung and received.

But the one who had received grace, and been reminded of grace again, was me.

T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me.
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.

Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.

When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.



* obviously appropriate discipline is needed at times, with the end goal of a softer heart and better behavior which flows out of that. Sometimes love and grace demonstrated bring us to that goal, sometimes time to work it out is the answer, and sometimes, correction by the parent is needed.  For our children, we strive to discern with wisdom (and not in anger), which one it is for the situation at hand. 

snippets and vignettes

I have a lot of thoughts, but none of them form one coherent blog post, so today is snippets, vignettes, some maybe with more to come, others complete in and of themselves for the time being.  Either way, I need to write for me, whether or not they are complete:

- I left my job at the big prestigious business school across town this month.  It was the right move for our family, and wise by many reasons (both financial and otherwise), and I know that, but I'm still wrestling.   It was my choice, our choice together, and ultimately a process of unclenching my hands from my sense of "known" and unhealthy clinging to something I thought could give me identity and choosing to take a leap, a risk, and jump towards a healthier place. It's scary, and unknown, and I'm still working out who I am - but it's a work in process - and the right work in process.  I'm scared you (not sure who you is) will put me in a congratulatory box that I can't get out of - "working mom," "stay-at-home mom," "throwing away her career," "finally recognizing her calling to stay home" - none of which feel accurate or true.  I'm still figuring out who I am - but I know that it involves trying something new, working with my hands and my mind,  being there for my kiddos, taking a risk, and stepping out in faith now.  So here I stand.

- My relationship with money is hard right now.  Living in the balance that we have enough, while still poignantly aware of our "tightness" is hard.  And in a month where our budget does not easily balance with our income, while I look for a job that will fit with our needs, I'm struggling to see the side of the balance wherein we have plenty.  But we do.  And always do.  Always.  And I know we're called to gratitude, and freedom, but it's not easy to avoid the nagging fear of "what if."

- My sons are so incredibly precious to me - and I am constantly in awe of the gift that I get to receive every day in being their mom.  When I get one of those giant slobbery kisses, or bear hugs, or sweet smiles reserved just for mom - I melt.  And each night, I thank Jesus with a true heart for the incredible joy that he has given me in them.  That being said, man!  Kids take a lot of energy, and that super sweet "mama.  mama.  MAma.  MAMA!" can drive you up a wall some days. Being a parent is both beautiful and sweet and HARD on a daily basis.  And that's truth.   And good to admit sometimes, because let's face it, when you're in it, you know.  But somehow we think we need to keep it pretty all the time - and that's just exhausting.  Like cleaning up all the caked-on graham cracker crumbs and cheerios lovingly mashed into our sofa cushions...

- This week, on the same day, one friend miscarried her hoped for and prayed for baby, and another gave birth to hers.  The dichotomy and consistency of grief and joy brings me to my knees with tears both times.  We took meals to both, prayed with both, and have promised to be part of the lives of both.  It's important, Church, friends, people, that we actively celebrate life - whether by grieving with those who are losing it and hurting, or by celebrating with those who are welcoming new life.  Our consistency and value of life matters, in both fullness and emptiness, and we need to walk that out.  I suck at empathy and grief, and far prefer joyful celebration, but both are intimately part of what it means to authentically care for one another.

- I have been struck many times lately, of how beautiful it is that marriage is a covenant.  A promise.  And not just a high or an emotion or a feeling.  For better or for worse.  In sickness and in health.  In identity crisis and in firm foundation.  In sleepless nights and honeymoon vacations.  In transition and in establishment.  That I, that we, can be seen and loved, in our best and worst.  There's a security and a gift in that, that I, that we, are welcomed, known, received, loved, when it's gritty and when it's glorious. And often times both at the same time.  It's a transformational thing and it is transforming both of us.  For that, I am so grateful.

- I actually love making things beautiful - by gardening and growing things, by cleaning and decorating, by creating things with my own hands.  All things that you might not know, in examining my house on a day to day basis.  But true none-the-less.  And I need to do more of that, both for myself and for others.

Since there is no theme to this post, we will end it thus with no conclusion.  My apologies for my nap-time meanderings and ramblings.  But sometimes there are just so many thoughts in fragments in my mind that getting them out leaves more room for the construction of fuller, more eloquent thoughts to follow. :)

2 months!

Happy two months to E [a week late]!!

It's hard to believe that two months have already come and gone - already it seems like you have been a part of our family forever, and yet, it still feels like you just arrived!  :)  This has been a slower, more peaceful period for us, and we've been enjoying the more relaxing summer pace.  Your daddy started his new job, and so you and S and I have been adjusting to managing the days by ourselves.  You continue to be a pretty chill kiddo, so you seem to have taken everything in stride.

You are 12 lbs 14 oz, and near 95% in height at 24.5 inches! Like the rest of the family, you are tall and slender - this means you wear 3 months clothes because of length, but look like you're swimming in them because of girth!

Most of your days involve a lot of sleeping and a lot of eating, and then a lot of watching your big brother and mommy.  One or two times a day, we'll take a long walk outside, and you still seem to love riding in the Ergo (and have outgrown your infant insert already!)

You are still very snuggly and love being held best of all - but like your brother, seem to like being able to watch people around us!  You're starting to really enjoy facing outwards so that you can observe the world.  But you are full of smiles for mommy, when I face you towards me!

A snapshot of you this month:

- You learned how to smile for real, and you seem to reserve the best of those smiles for mommy and your big brother.  You've come close to laughing, but not quite yet.  You also like your mobile and play-mat and give lots of smiles there too!  And you're starting to "talk" to us a lot!  You're fast becoming much more interactive!

- You can raise your head up well when you're on your tummy - and get some of your chest off the ground too - we're guessing it's only a matter of time before you start rolling over.

- You've learned how to put yourself down for naps this month, which is a huge help to mommy in handling two under two, and in general, you go to sleep very easily for naps and take 3-4 a day still.

- You made the switch to cloth diapers this month, and they look super cute on you!  You, as usual, are unfazed by the transition, taking everything in stride!

- You still hate the carseat, but in the last few days, we've seem some positive improvements, so we are hopeful that maybe that will change soon!

- Bath-time is your favorite time of day - you kick and splash and coo a lot!

- You're consistently sleeping for 4-7 hour stretches at night - your personal record is 8 hours thus far! (But even though by your doctors standards it is, I'm hesitant to call that sleeping through the night, since it was from 6:30pm until 2:30am!)

We love you bunches, little man!  Happy 2 Months!

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