I figure I better crank out at least one more of these super enlightening blog posts before I have this 3rd little nugget and y'all get incredibly inappropriate, less filtered opinions from me courtesy of sleep deprivation. I know it's coming. What's more fun than pregnancy hormones? Post partum hormones.
I really feel like I have been a good girl this pregnancy. I haven't worried much about how Insane things are going to be with 3 little ladies or if I'm going to have enough love to go around. Somehow, maybe it came with the minivan, I realized I don't have the stress I assumed I'd have with adding Charlotte to our family. It's just not there. Instead, there's a new reality.
A reality with plenty of affection to go around. One in which there will be more priorities to realize and a lot of hard work with rewards like baby smell and tiny toes. Extreme fatigue that comes with a newborn, lack of delicious desserts and Lord have mercy, football gumbo will be a treat, y'all hold me to that one as I try to lose the baby weight and then some! Lists of all shapes and sizes, with the reality that I can't do it all anymore, and that's ok.
There is always so much to do, and lately with all I want to do I've had to really prioritize what needs to be done over what I want to do. My business goals are having to wait, because now just isn't quite the time for me to take all that on but maybe someday. Pregnancy napping over embroidery or laundry over crafts because the girls need so much from me when they're awake that there is less time for hobbies. That's ok too. Not an easy thing by all means, but time is so precious and it's turning into an even more rare commodity as we get ready for this third sweet baby.
I'm almost always tired, but I'm extremely grateful. Often overwhelmed with the pressure I put on myself, until I realized what I'm doing to my spirit. Did I mention tired? Someone almost always wants somthing, and sometimes I feel like I'm going to pull my hair out if I get elbowed or crawled on one more time. It's fleeting though and it makes me sad to think about how fast my girls have grown up. Yes, it's hard sometimes, I just don't feel like the stage of life I'm in is that big of a deal. It's so ingrained that it's my normal, and I wouldn't change it for anything. It's just far too sweet!
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Friday, May 1, 2015
Love Where You Live
This is my Tea and Testimony devotional from this mops.
This month’s cover of Southern Living magazine states to LOVE WHERE YOU LIVE. Loving where I live has been a constant battle of contentment for me. It’s a heart issue that I have really had to lean on the Lord, my husband, and my family and friends to get me to the point I am today. Still broken, but mending.
I’m from a small city in Louisiana, Bossier City, not born there but definitely raised there. When I left Bossier for college in Natchitoches I was terrified and almost stayed home with my momma to go to school across the river in Shreveport. I adored Natchitoches and I fell in love with my husband there. We got married after our sophomore year, and Natchitoches was home for 2 more years. To understand my heart, I have to mention, these small towns are full of community. People know their neighbors. People say hi to you and ask how you’re doing when you walk by them at Kroger. We pull over for funeral processions and strangers hold doors open for each other. It’s a slower pace of life in North Louisiana, not perfect but very few frustrations come to my mind.
My husband was recruited out of college to work for USAA and I remember the day we loaded the uhaul, drove up to Shreveport, and made one more stop at my mommas. It was an adventure then. I was overwhelmed with excitement and I was a good girl and didn’t cry much. The first few months here were new and fun. I loved how little humidity there was during the summer and that mosquitoes didn’t eat me up. So much to do, and see, and experience. We knew a few people from college but soon the culture shock hit, and I missed my friends and family immensely. During this time, the baby that I wanted so badly to start our little family came along. Isla was born, and I was desperate for mommy friends. No church. No mops. No family. My mom 8 hours away. I felt alone, and isolated, but I had no idea how to make friends who had small babies or children. We moved into our house when Isla was about 8 months old and my sister in law suggested mops to help with my loneliness.
My first year of mops I can tell you I didn’t put effort into making deeper friendships. I would go to meetings and the occasional play date or moms night out. I didn’t try though, which was a big mistake. Y’all. You have to try. I was having health issues, and I didn’t think I was good enough to make those deeper connections aside from sitting at a table next to someone. I made a few friends, but I didn’t want to let anyone in so I stayed detached. That was a hard year for us. I decided I needed more to be a better wife and mother so I got the idea to join steering team. I needed something!! I remember thinking I have to make friends this way. Things will click and I will have coffee play dates and girl talk and I will finally fit in this huge loud city. Plus I have always loved having something to do, and serving others. I wanted to help other women. I found out I was pregnant with Lily, and she was literally a pain in my bottom during pregnancy. I had sciatica with her and soon it became hard to run errands, and eventually hard to function. I was hurting physically and emotionally but I was too prideful to ask for help. I was scared it would make me look weak and I would really miss out on friendships then.
By the time I had Lily, I decided steering team was too much for me. I felt like nothing was going the way I had planned. I didn’t realize at the time I was delusional with expectations that only I had placed on myself. When women in this organization, this family of women, ask if you want or need help, take it. We mean it and we want to help you. It’s taken me 3 years to learn. I was ashamed of myself for quitting, so I isolated and only attended meetings when I wanted to do it. I missed my mom, and friends and Louisiana. I missed that quiet calm town in Natchitoches where I could go to the riverbank. I was hungry for the culture of my home state, and this city was just too dirty, too loud, and too mean. None of my potted plants would live here more than 2 months and everything is just too brown. I started over spending because shopping made me happy for a little while. Not long, but just long enough to forget how lonely I felt for a little bit longer. I didn’t fit here, and I wasn’t going to try anymore. My husband kept encouraging but I had decided I was going to finish out mops because I paid for it but not come back again. I was angry.
One meeting my table got placed with another table, and Heather H. asked me how things were going, so I lied to her and gave some sweet answer that I don’t remember. What I do recall is that she happily told me she was glad I was getting something out of mops. She meant what she said, and it planted this seed of conviction in my heart. What I was getting out of mops. Me. It was all about me. Forget wanting to help others, I had become selfish and very bitter. I started praying, hard, about what to do. The few friends I had wanted me to come back. My husband told me that my contentment was my choice. I could put effort into being happy, but I had to make the decision and stick with it.
I made the decision that I didn’t want to be so selfish, and that I didn’t want other moms to be lonely so I asked to be a discussion group leader where I could plan play dates and mom’s night outs and really get to know my group once the new year started. Over the summer, without mops events and after a trip to Louisiana for a week, I broke. I was miserable. It hurt to be back here in San Antonio. I’m like a broken record at this point, but this was the extreme low. I cried to my husband asking can we please just move back to Louisiana. I will go to New Orleans, Baton Rouge, and I will even take Dallas. Just get me closer. It will solve every problem I have ever had and I will be so happy. Life will be perfect.
My husband could have given in to this sobbing, delusional woman but instead he counted the blessings we have been given here and the continuous blessing his job here is to us. Moving back was not going to fix everything. He wanted me to put more effort into making friends by inviting women and their little ones over, and by asking friends to spend time with me so I could really get to know their heart. I started praying for deeper friendships and to be content, and to be joyful here in this moment no matter where I am or the season of life.
The Lord answered with a table full of women who want that same kind of friendship, and who show up and are willing to participate. My husband has been nothing but supportive and wanting me to go have fun and reach out to others. Friendships this year have gone deeper and exceeded any prayer I cried out. I hope that if you are on the fence about coming to mops next year you decide to sign up again because friendships take time and a lot of effort because I really want to get to know you.
I still have a hard time staying content, there are days that I think someone is going to run over me with a buggy at heb or our neighbors are so loud. I have to remind myself and be encouraged to dig my heels in here in South Texas. I have opened up to my husband about so much that it has brought us closer. I’ve learned that my happiness is my choice. I’m a determined person and I choose joy. I want to flourish and thrive here so I’m going to do just that and I want to flourish with all y’all!
This month’s cover of Southern Living magazine states to LOVE WHERE YOU LIVE. Loving where I live has been a constant battle of contentment for me. It’s a heart issue that I have really had to lean on the Lord, my husband, and my family and friends to get me to the point I am today. Still broken, but mending.
I’m from a small city in Louisiana, Bossier City, not born there but definitely raised there. When I left Bossier for college in Natchitoches I was terrified and almost stayed home with my momma to go to school across the river in Shreveport. I adored Natchitoches and I fell in love with my husband there. We got married after our sophomore year, and Natchitoches was home for 2 more years. To understand my heart, I have to mention, these small towns are full of community. People know their neighbors. People say hi to you and ask how you’re doing when you walk by them at Kroger. We pull over for funeral processions and strangers hold doors open for each other. It’s a slower pace of life in North Louisiana, not perfect but very few frustrations come to my mind.
My husband was recruited out of college to work for USAA and I remember the day we loaded the uhaul, drove up to Shreveport, and made one more stop at my mommas. It was an adventure then. I was overwhelmed with excitement and I was a good girl and didn’t cry much. The first few months here were new and fun. I loved how little humidity there was during the summer and that mosquitoes didn’t eat me up. So much to do, and see, and experience. We knew a few people from college but soon the culture shock hit, and I missed my friends and family immensely. During this time, the baby that I wanted so badly to start our little family came along. Isla was born, and I was desperate for mommy friends. No church. No mops. No family. My mom 8 hours away. I felt alone, and isolated, but I had no idea how to make friends who had small babies or children. We moved into our house when Isla was about 8 months old and my sister in law suggested mops to help with my loneliness.
My first year of mops I can tell you I didn’t put effort into making deeper friendships. I would go to meetings and the occasional play date or moms night out. I didn’t try though, which was a big mistake. Y’all. You have to try. I was having health issues, and I didn’t think I was good enough to make those deeper connections aside from sitting at a table next to someone. I made a few friends, but I didn’t want to let anyone in so I stayed detached. That was a hard year for us. I decided I needed more to be a better wife and mother so I got the idea to join steering team. I needed something!! I remember thinking I have to make friends this way. Things will click and I will have coffee play dates and girl talk and I will finally fit in this huge loud city. Plus I have always loved having something to do, and serving others. I wanted to help other women. I found out I was pregnant with Lily, and she was literally a pain in my bottom during pregnancy. I had sciatica with her and soon it became hard to run errands, and eventually hard to function. I was hurting physically and emotionally but I was too prideful to ask for help. I was scared it would make me look weak and I would really miss out on friendships then.
By the time I had Lily, I decided steering team was too much for me. I felt like nothing was going the way I had planned. I didn’t realize at the time I was delusional with expectations that only I had placed on myself. When women in this organization, this family of women, ask if you want or need help, take it. We mean it and we want to help you. It’s taken me 3 years to learn. I was ashamed of myself for quitting, so I isolated and only attended meetings when I wanted to do it. I missed my mom, and friends and Louisiana. I missed that quiet calm town in Natchitoches where I could go to the riverbank. I was hungry for the culture of my home state, and this city was just too dirty, too loud, and too mean. None of my potted plants would live here more than 2 months and everything is just too brown. I started over spending because shopping made me happy for a little while. Not long, but just long enough to forget how lonely I felt for a little bit longer. I didn’t fit here, and I wasn’t going to try anymore. My husband kept encouraging but I had decided I was going to finish out mops because I paid for it but not come back again. I was angry.
One meeting my table got placed with another table, and Heather H. asked me how things were going, so I lied to her and gave some sweet answer that I don’t remember. What I do recall is that she happily told me she was glad I was getting something out of mops. She meant what she said, and it planted this seed of conviction in my heart. What I was getting out of mops. Me. It was all about me. Forget wanting to help others, I had become selfish and very bitter. I started praying, hard, about what to do. The few friends I had wanted me to come back. My husband told me that my contentment was my choice. I could put effort into being happy, but I had to make the decision and stick with it.
I made the decision that I didn’t want to be so selfish, and that I didn’t want other moms to be lonely so I asked to be a discussion group leader where I could plan play dates and mom’s night outs and really get to know my group once the new year started. Over the summer, without mops events and after a trip to Louisiana for a week, I broke. I was miserable. It hurt to be back here in San Antonio. I’m like a broken record at this point, but this was the extreme low. I cried to my husband asking can we please just move back to Louisiana. I will go to New Orleans, Baton Rouge, and I will even take Dallas. Just get me closer. It will solve every problem I have ever had and I will be so happy. Life will be perfect.
My husband could have given in to this sobbing, delusional woman but instead he counted the blessings we have been given here and the continuous blessing his job here is to us. Moving back was not going to fix everything. He wanted me to put more effort into making friends by inviting women and their little ones over, and by asking friends to spend time with me so I could really get to know their heart. I started praying for deeper friendships and to be content, and to be joyful here in this moment no matter where I am or the season of life.
The Lord answered with a table full of women who want that same kind of friendship, and who show up and are willing to participate. My husband has been nothing but supportive and wanting me to go have fun and reach out to others. Friendships this year have gone deeper and exceeded any prayer I cried out. I hope that if you are on the fence about coming to mops next year you decide to sign up again because friendships take time and a lot of effort because I really want to get to know you.
I still have a hard time staying content, there are days that I think someone is going to run over me with a buggy at heb or our neighbors are so loud. I have to remind myself and be encouraged to dig my heels in here in South Texas. I have opened up to my husband about so much that it has brought us closer. I’ve learned that my happiness is my choice. I’m a determined person and I choose joy. I want to flourish and thrive here so I’m going to do just that and I want to flourish with all y’all!
Friday, February 6, 2015
My rock named Grace
My rock named Grace.
Several weeks ago before nausea hit hard, we were in church. They gave us a rock and a sharpie, with instructions to pray asking for the Lord to bless each of us with a new name. I heard gently, "Grace." It was my instruction, not only for myself but to extend grace to others. I didn't write on my rock, cause forbid it not look perfect.
You see, I have a hard time with grace. It can mean so many wonderful and weighted things. I grew up knowing that you needed to have kindness and love for others, and treat those around you with the best manners. I've never been elegant, but I try to maintain an environment of hospitality not only in my home but around myself. Hard. Some people make it really hard. They're difficult to extend my compassion and love to, and I dont always extend it to myself.
I had some bad days in January, miserable and frustrated because I felt like I wasn't doing enough with the girls, our house was a mess, and I was sick, exhausted, and extremely hormonal. I felt like my manners were lacking and I was constantly putting my foot in my mouth. I was messing up. A lot. Now that I'm feeling better, it's easier to extend grace to myself. However, when I needed to be understanding towards myself and my limits I was severely lacking and angry with what I couldn't follow through on and what I couldn't handle. It's been a learning experience. We all do the best we can, and it's enough, new mercies every day.
I was leaning hard on those new mercies. Its not easy to be kind all the time. There are people in this world that I have to make extra effort to give grace too. The person in the left lane driving under the speed limit. The girls when they misbehave. Friends who do something I feel has wronged me. Even little furry dachshunds who bark loud annoying my hormones because our neighbor moved their trashcans. The knowledge that today is what we get, and the faith that I use to get through and know if I'm trying my best that there is grace enough to get us through.
Mommy brain is a real thing y'all. It will make you forget to do laundry or sweep, or that you needed to get grapes at the store. Tomorrow is another day. It will get done. It's fun to take the marriage carriage back out to the store to get those forgotten grapes. That moon roof, it's a new mercy. That little bean eating her grapes and cheese, she's a continuous new mercy. Watching my husband play with our girls. Extending grace towards a timid dachshund who just needed more love and mercy has made her a changed dog. His provision, His gentle correction, and His sufficient grace incredible new mercies. Our new van, I thought this is way too nice for me. I don't deserve it. It's a possession but it's still full of abundant grace and I don't think I can begin to put into words the testimony it carries.
The knowledge that today is what we get, and the faith that I use to get through and know if I'm trying my best that there is grace enough to get us through. We mess up, and the grace is still there. I don't know where my rock is right now. It's ok. It doesn't matter, because of grace.
Several weeks ago before nausea hit hard, we were in church. They gave us a rock and a sharpie, with instructions to pray asking for the Lord to bless each of us with a new name. I heard gently, "Grace." It was my instruction, not only for myself but to extend grace to others. I didn't write on my rock, cause forbid it not look perfect.
You see, I have a hard time with grace. It can mean so many wonderful and weighted things. I grew up knowing that you needed to have kindness and love for others, and treat those around you with the best manners. I've never been elegant, but I try to maintain an environment of hospitality not only in my home but around myself. Hard. Some people make it really hard. They're difficult to extend my compassion and love to, and I dont always extend it to myself.
I had some bad days in January, miserable and frustrated because I felt like I wasn't doing enough with the girls, our house was a mess, and I was sick, exhausted, and extremely hormonal. I felt like my manners were lacking and I was constantly putting my foot in my mouth. I was messing up. A lot. Now that I'm feeling better, it's easier to extend grace to myself. However, when I needed to be understanding towards myself and my limits I was severely lacking and angry with what I couldn't follow through on and what I couldn't handle. It's been a learning experience. We all do the best we can, and it's enough, new mercies every day.
I was leaning hard on those new mercies. Its not easy to be kind all the time. There are people in this world that I have to make extra effort to give grace too. The person in the left lane driving under the speed limit. The girls when they misbehave. Friends who do something I feel has wronged me. Even little furry dachshunds who bark loud annoying my hormones because our neighbor moved their trashcans. The knowledge that today is what we get, and the faith that I use to get through and know if I'm trying my best that there is grace enough to get us through.
Mommy brain is a real thing y'all. It will make you forget to do laundry or sweep, or that you needed to get grapes at the store. Tomorrow is another day. It will get done. It's fun to take the marriage carriage back out to the store to get those forgotten grapes. That moon roof, it's a new mercy. That little bean eating her grapes and cheese, she's a continuous new mercy. Watching my husband play with our girls. Extending grace towards a timid dachshund who just needed more love and mercy has made her a changed dog. His provision, His gentle correction, and His sufficient grace incredible new mercies. Our new van, I thought this is way too nice for me. I don't deserve it. It's a possession but it's still full of abundant grace and I don't think I can begin to put into words the testimony it carries.
The knowledge that today is what we get, and the faith that I use to get through and know if I'm trying my best that there is grace enough to get us through. We mess up, and the grace is still there. I don't know where my rock is right now. It's ok. It doesn't matter, because of grace.
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