You owe me a pop

This is what precious looks like...when it's napping in your arms.

If you've been following this blog for any amount of time, you've probably noticed that parenting has been a catch and release battle over here. I get on a routine/method/thiswayisgoingtowork high and then when lifegetsbusy/Babywon'ttaketoit/itdoesn'twork I crash a little. Don't get me wrong, being a Momma in general has been incredible! I love each and every {though perhaps not every minute of the} day! But I have had to let go of some of my preferences for the sake of baby's greater good i.e. trying to force him into routines that he wasn't ready for.

So, after just over six months, I felt like we were ready for some change. I found myself, both of us really, just floating around during the day, holding him during all of his naps, and just basically not feeling...steady...or purposeful. {It should be noted here that I am aware that this is the preferred method of absolutely awesome people, and in no way am I trying to suggest that routine is for everybody - just definitely for us. I knew you'd understand} Since he's a big(ger) boy now, I finally got my wish and implemented a little structure into our day. Because, besides the fact that I'm a person who craves order, I felt it was really good for him too. To have a general peace in his little baby mind that he will eat again, he will sleep again, there's no need to get out of control because he knows {in a very primitive baby way} that his needs will be met right around the same time everyday. Plus, with him napping like a big boy in his crib, I can get more of my work done while he sleeps, leaving me more undivided attention for him while he is awake.

And guess what - it worked like {almost} clockwork! For a grand total of 3 days. On that third day, in a conversation with a {completely wonderful} friend of mine, I made that stereotypical mistake of celebrating this little victory. Then, when the next day, Baby woke up at a different time of the morning, didn't nap as long as usual, needed to be held to nap at all in the afternoon, there was a tempting little, nasty thought in the back of my mind. I jinxed it.

And then the Truth smacked me and my little superstitious self right in the face. Really? You now have some kind of cosmic power to alter reality? You, a little human being, have charted the course of this day simply by sharing, and being excited about, your story? Riiiight.

And then it just snowballed. Because I realized that not only did I have no part in the day that didn't go as planned - I had very little to do with the days that did! True, I charted and upheld and trained and basically did my part, but it was only by the grace of God, blessing those efforts, that anything came of them at all. Silly Lucy.

There are no such things as jinxes. There are simply days that don't go in the same nice order that all the other days do. There are stuffy noses and new teeth, and sometimes there are days when a fella just needs to be cuddled by his Momma. And you know what, it was basically awesome, in it's own snugly way.

So this morning, I challenge us all to free ourselves from "worldly wisdom," and rest in the amazing sovereignty of our Sweet Lord. Isn't he amazing?!? Whew, so incredibly glad for {yet another} reminder that I am not in control. Maybe I'll get it...someday.

Time in a Bottle

From last Fall

Over on sweet Casey's Blog she talked recently of Fall. Of a little Fall craving to be exact. And it's odd, but I've been feeling the same way. When I was making my oatmeal this morning (I know what you're thinking "It's a million degrees outside, what is she doing making oatmeal?" But hey, my motto is "Buy what is cheap, use what you have" and oatmeal totally qualified this morning) I caught a sudden whiff of cinnamon and it was...magical. All the sudden I had this vision of our cozy house, plus Baby. It was just for a second, but it basically rocked.

Don't get me wrong, this summer has been pretty great so far. Baseball games with my guys, homemade barbecue, jean shorts and flip flops, yard sales, ice cold sweet tea, church picnics, the feeling you get when you walk in from the blaze and hit your first breeze of AC, and - despite the fact it's been mercilessly hot - very little complaining from me. Which is an accomplishment, people. Plus, that's not even counting the fun to come like Independence Day festivities and my birthday. So there's plenty to live for in the now.

But I just can't help it. Our lives have been turned upside down with the arrival of this little guy, and I can't help imagining all the great things to come. Really, just ordinary things that are there every year, but will be made so much sweeter by his presence. Cozy mornings, fragrant beverages, picking out gourds and pumpkins at the local farm stand, crisp walks, Halloween, Thanksgiving, lots of snuggling to "keep warm," and let us not ignore the behemoth - college football season. But it's like a treadmill. I can't think about all that without going further. His first Christmas, the lights - he will LOVE the lights, the music, the presents.......and then I stop.

Because this little guy is exploding before my eyes, getting bigger by the second, learning by the day, charming us all with his bashful flirting, and I cannot stand the thought of how quickly it's all happening. My little newborn is an infant, and that infant can already hold his head up and is so close to rolling over he can taste it. I think I'll take now, thanks :) 

Linking up with Casey Leigh today

Control Freak

After almost 24 years, I think I am coming to terms with having a Type A personality. I never really would have admitted that growing up. I mean, I tend to be non-confrontational, I'd rather follow than lead, and if someone has to give up their way to make the group happy, I'm your gal (which, before you get the idea that I'm bragging about this, it comes with it's bag of flaws I can assure you). But then there's the fact that if the counter between our kitchen and living area gets a little cluttered, I feel like the whole house is messy. I arrange my groceries on the conveyor belt into groupings at the check out stand and get a little miffed when the cashier totally disregards my system. I adore all things list, routine, and organization. And I always (and I mean always) have to put my sugar in my coffee before my cream. I know, I'm an underground control freak.

So, imagine my surprise when this translated to my recent excursion in parenting. Shocking, I know. I made what I have found to be a common mistake and I read, and read, read, and researched, and read, and researched some more. Routines, "Attachment Parenting," "Eat-Sleep-Play," "co-sleeping," "Combination Parenting," "self-soothing," "cry it out," bad habits, good habits, you name it - the list goes on and on. And after three months, with a little help from the wiser Mommas around me, I seem to have deprogrammed myself a bit. Things happen in the Vacuum in Pearls household at a much more peaceful pace, thank goodness! But there's always something lurking on the horizon.

Last week I was putting B in his car seat, picking him up from the nursery at church and an older baby walked over and dropped a toy (a not-soft toy!) in B's face before even my reflexes had time to react. It happened in a split second. B was, obviously, upset (as was his Papa Bear Daddy) but there was no physical damage done - not even a mark. But I was devastated. I just couldn't get over the fact that I "let" it happen. "I was right there! What could I have done differently? Maybe if I had just....? I'm supposed to protect him!" I'm guessing if you're a Mom, you know the drill. It appears that, even though I'm recovering from my need to control B's routine, I've only just begun my journey in giving up the need to control his safety, his welfare, and his happiness.

Please, don't mistake me! As Mothers it IS our duty to keep our children safe, to do our utmost to protect them, to keep bad things away. But we can't be there every second. And, apparently, even when we are there, we cannot control every scenario. Sometimes kids will walk up behind you while you're strapping your sweet, precious baby into his seat, and they will accidentally hurt your child. And it isn't even remotely your fault. It's no body's fault. It's the way the world works. B has his very first infection this week. And there's nothing I can do about the fact that my child got sick. I can cuddle him when he's restless, give him his medicine, and clean out his little nose to make him feel better, but I cannot control his upper respiratory system. You know what I mean?

Here's the good news: God is in control. The world is not some random room of toddlers waiting to throw stuff on my kid. It is a place set in motion and kept by a loving, powerful Creator. Does that mean bad stuff won't happen? No. But it does mean that there is Someone who knows all about it, and will be there when it does.

"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast {whose thoughts are fixed on You} because they trust in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord Himself, is the Rock Eternal." Isaiah 26:3-4 NIV {NLT}

So, as I rinse B's pacifier off for the umpteenth time today and frantically wonder what kind of germs and particles it could have come in contact with, and whether I should I sterilize it - again, I will take a breath, fix my thoughts on the Rock Eternal, and remember that I cannot control the micro-sphere.

Linking up with this Lovely Lady today

Lesson Learned, Life Enjoyed

Fathers Day Feast

Good morning Friends! It's almost 11am on a Monday morning, and I'm just beginning to start my day. Don't get me wrong, as the mother of a three-month-old, I've been up for hours (and hours, and hours) but those hours didn't seem to be filled with the things I originally planned. No dishes were put away, no countertops wiped down, no floors vacuumed, no workout done, no junk from the weekend put back where it goes. I did manage to choke down some leftovers and there is a load of B's laundry singing in the dryer, but on a whole the morning could seem like a disappointment.

  

Until I think about what I have been up to. I've been holding, feeding, singing to, and soothing a slightly-crankier-than-usual-because-he's-sick B. I've been accidentally dozing off for some much needed rest after a nightly feeding that turned into a diaper changing, bed re-making incident thanks to a wet diaper that went rouge. And I've been sneaking in some much needed Bible study.

I think like a lot of Proverbs 31 Woman Wannabes (well, at least I hope I'm not the only one), I don't give myself very much grace. I even tend to equate my value as a wife, and maybe even as a woman of God, by the things I can get done, by how clean my house is, by how put together I am. Especially now that I have the awesome privilege of staying home full time, I put even more pressure on myself because I need to be "pulling my weight." Wow, sounds pretty silly when I type it all out like that, but nevertheless, there it is. And it's funny, too because God didn't put that pressure on me. H doesn't put that pressure on me. And as long as B is fed several times a day I'm pretty sure he doesn't care how many chores I mark off my to-do list.

You know what's funny about the Proverbs 31 Woman? She's like a house-keeping, home-making machine, but you know what her crowning achievement is? Her fear of the Lord. See, no one can DO all that by themselves. Mere mortals can only accomplish so much in a day and keep their relationships, not to mention their sanity, stable. It's God who gave me this incredible task of caring for my family and keeping my home, and it's His job to help me tie up the lose ends. If things go undone, then they were meant to go undone. If the dishes sit in the sink for 24 hours, the world will not come crumbling to an end.

Now, I'm not talking about sitting on the couch, eating potato chips, and watching CSI reruns all day. I'm talking about priorities, about reveling in every little moment I get to spend with my baby, about not being exhausted when my Husband gets home, and about doing my very best to get the rest done, and giving myself grace when I can't. Can I get an "Amen" from the other exhausted, perfectionist housewives? Thank you.

You know what? My life basically rocks. I didn't do any housework all weekend except for a few dishes, but you know what I did do? H and I took B to his very first baseball game. We watched movies in our pajamas. We got our Red Robin on with my Family for Fathers Day. H took me to Baskin Robins for my first scoop of Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream in about 7 years (Thank you BOGO coupon!). We kissed, and cuddled B and enjoyed all his new 3-month-old tricks. I enjoyed my first Sunday back on the worship team since B's arrival. We traipsed all over town looking for a Mexican grocery store so I could get some Apple Soda (more on this in a later post). I made H his favorite dinner (which is fried salmon patties, cornbread, and veggies, in case you were wondering) for his very first Fathers Day. And you know how many times I wished my dining room table was cleared off? Exactly zero. Case in point.

I'm pretty sure it's not just me out on this ledge, and if you're there with me, I encourage yourself to give yourself a break today. Know what I mean? And for those of you older and wiser than I, what are some of the ways to keep your balance? 

Thanks Friends, enjoy your Monday! I've got me some chubby baby cheeks to nuzzle...

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Today I am thankful for...

Quiet morning cuddles, hot coffee, and five consecutive hours of sleep.

Concerning Personal Style

Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this is not a fashion blog. Too bad really, because I love a good fashion blog. I'm kind of a voyeur when it comes to style. I love to look - blogs, pinterest, magazines, it's just the application that's a little elusive. Can I get an amen?

Specifically, the idea of "personal style" is a bit tricky for me. It's been gradually coming to my attention that, assuming I have one, I'm not sure what it is. And let's be clear, I'm not talking about the idea that everyone should fit themselves into a little box labeled "preppy," "boho," "beachy," etc. But rather the self awarness to say "this is what looks good on me, and this is what I like."

My early attempts at personal style included wearing skirts over jeans and other regrettable high school decisions. We've all been there...right? Hopefully, I'm not the only woman who had a rough early millenium? Now that I'm a little older (and wiser?), here's my M.O. maybe you can relate: When I get the opportunity to buy some clothes, I go around the store collecting all this cute stuff and then head to the fitting room to see if it fits. If it does, I bring it home where it sits in my closet because every time I have the chance to wear it I don't because it doesn't seem right. So I end up wearing the same five outfits over, and over, and over....You know what I mean?

I think the solution might have something to do with asking the right questions. Not "Do I like this?" but "Do I like this on me?" Not "Does it fit?" but "Is this something I will wear?" I think I'm starting to understand that just because I like a fad doesn't necessarily mean I need to adopt it. That I can appreciate a super cute sweater, dress, or top without feeling the need to own it. "It's cute and it fits" does not equal "It needs to come home with me." Thus, saving money and closet space on those things that truly speak to me.

Now, it remains for me to figure out what those things are. What do I really want to wear? What actually feels right for me? This is something I've been especially dealing with since having my sweet Baby 6 weeks ago. Not only do certain things just plain not fit but I'm finding that some of the things I used to wear proudly just don't seem to work, in deeper ways, on my new child-bearing self. Here come the Mom Jeans! Juuuuust kidding. No, I'm just suggesting that there may be a different way to embrace this new season in my life, stylistically speaking, than the things that used to work before. Above all, personal style should be just that - personal. It should communicate something about who you are, and who I am has recently undergone some major overhaul. Perhaps the way I pick out clothes should too?

So, it's kind of like a blank slate. Approaching myself, and my closet, with honesty. Being picky about what I choose to own.

So, thoughts? Suggestions? What are some of the ways you've defined your personal style?