Wingin' It...

Parenting.

Sometimes I just throw my hands up in defeat and pure honest revelation that I have no clue what I'm doing as a parent.

Have you been there?

Growing up, I wasn't one of the many young girls who babysat for a first job. I mean, when I watched kiddos they were always a bit older. None were infants. I tried super hard to be the "cool babysitter." Of course I had to come prepared with activities or crafts or some other time occupier because God-forbid the kids ever realized I had no idea what I was doing watching them.

One thing I did have going for me was I was mature for my age (yes I'm admitting that). I was reliable and I sought hard to reassure parents that they could trust me with their kids.

But I never really saw babysitting as a job per se. Watching youngsters was something that I only did maybe a hand full of times on my own.

So, I'll admit, I was just a little bit scared when Addy came into our seemingly small world of crazy youth activities and events and travels. She rocked our world, in more ways than one.

Perhaps I relied on my husbands expertise not only as a youth pastor, but also the big brother in a large household. Surely he had a clue what we were suppose to do, right? Well, yeah...sometimes.

These past three years or so there's been several occasions when I have just had to be okay with wingin' it. Truthfully, parenting is the most vulnerable, honestly gut wrenching thing I've ever signed up to be a part of. Marriage is a good first precursor to those raw emotions, but parenting...well it's just the icing on the very big, very loud, very messy cake (forgive the bad analogy, I'm craving something sweet).

Parenting, more specifically mothering, has taught me to take all advice with a grain of salt. Mull it over. Contemplate it, but ultimately our lives are not capable of being snugly fit into the same boxes as the next big, very loud, very messy cake (there I go again). And, thank God they aren't! Literally!

Many days I just fail as a parent. Sleepless nights have left me walking around like a zombie (no seriously you should see my hair when I have no time to make it happen; and I stink...something fierce, I might as well be the walking dead. Read: vulnerable moment). I get highly irritable, especially to my family, when I lack sleep and a good shower.

I'm trying. Quite truly I am trying.

It's just that sometimes I reach the point of my invisible limit and...I. Am. Done. Done.

So, I wing it...on a hope and a prayer that maybe, just maybe I'll make the right choice, discipline the right way for my kids and be consistent in all things. I pray that my words honor God, that my actions are pleasing to him.

Yet, some days I know I fail.

My words can be cheep and I can lash out in frustration that my feisty toddler has once again refused to eat her bites or go potty, even though she's been potty trained for months and is a pro (I like to think that sometimes she see's herself as a closet potty expert, afraid to let it out too much that she actually knows how to plop some good presents in that cute little teal potty chair).

I. Lack. Patience.

Not all the time, but maybe a good chunk of the time.

Not to be a downer, but parenting isn't for the weak or for those people who think having kids will solve marital issues. Parenting is exhausting and pulls at every emotion within you. No matter how many books from the "pro's" that you read prior to having kids, no matter how many coffee dates you have with your friends to prepare you for all that's too come, you'll still find many times when you need to wing it.

So, as I sing over Josiah above the noise of the hum of our bathroom fan tonight (he likes white noise) and as I attempt to give Addy a bath with one arm and bounce a fussy, gassy baby boy with the other, I'm reminded to pray, to breath deep and always exhale. I pray over my children, I dream with them and for them. I try to imagine them down the road, with their friends, in their first job and maybe having a family of their own someday. Sometimes these younger years feel the most overwhelming when your going through them. Maybe keeping perspective really is important, folks?!

I pray for patience. PATIENCE. PAAAATTTIEEEENNNNCCEEE!!! (can you tell my weakness?!). And I pray that God will help sustain me through these crazy days of endless repeat buttons and sleepless nights. And when the beagle is howling at a passerby and my toddler is singing "Let it Go" for the umpteen time and my baby's gassy tummy causes him such pain and when all those things and more happen all at the same time day in and day out...I pray for perspective that this too shall pass.

In the meantime, I don't want too much to pass me by without me taking full stock of my current season. Beyond the title of "mommy of two," beyond the messes and crying and temporary frustrations, in all of my wingin' it attempts, I hope that through it all I can come out a stronger, more dynamic individual. I hope that my faith only grows in this tried and true time and that it can stand.

Bouncing Back: Josiah's Arrival

It's official folks. I've entered back into the land of spit up and poopy diapers. 

Honestly, a huge side of me got excited when I pushed the "New Post" button for this entry. 

Gosh it's been a while, blogging world! How the heck are you?! 

Here's a big chunk of why I've been absent: 

Our handsome Josiah Lee was born on October 1st. 

7 lb. 15 oz. 

20 inches long

Little man decided to make his entrance into this world two weeks early. 

Addy is officially a big sister. 

We've reentered the world of sleepless nights, frequent diaper changes and endless laundry. 

He's a thinker all ready, even if most of his thinking happens during sleep. 

He's already been on several walks...

and compared his belly button with his big sisters (notice his thinking taking place here).

He's had many books read to him by Addy...

been given a few baths from mommy and Addy...

been to the pumpkin patch (although he was thinking...uh I mean sleeping most of the time...)

Mommy has allowed herself a small amount of coffee to maintain some sort of sanity these days...

Josiah had to think long and hard about how he felt about that. 

We've loved having multiple snug sessions. He loves to snug front and center, just like in the womb. 

And he makes sleep look really good...

Mommy has had fun with little boy clothes...

We waited almost four weeks before we gave Mr. Man a bottle of his breast milk. They say to give it time so there's no nipple confusion. Today, we broke that. Josh fed him his first bottle at midnight and Addy fed him a breakfast bottle this morning. But once Josiah pooped two minutes in, Addy was done. "I'm all done, Mama." 

Lastly, this cute little snapshot ended my night. I got both kids in jammies, Addy bathed. Josiah and I went in Addy's room to say prayers and read a few stories before bed. I laid Josiah down, milk drunk as he was with his pacifier in his mouth. In just a few short minutes, Josiah had fallen asleep in his big sisters bed. Precious. 

I'll share more shenanigans as a mama of two littles later on. For now, a brief update will suffice and I should probably get some sleep while they sleep...or at least head that way after some laundry and dishes get done...another day in the life! 

A Baby No More

The past 8 or 9 weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, congratulations and lots of laughter. About a week ago came the tears and questions of why. At our first prenatal appointment, the day before we left for High School Camp, we were excited to see an ultrasound of our little bean we expected to be about 8 weeks along. We had made our news public and were anticipating the growth of a little one. An ultrasound revealed that I was indeed pregnant but that the uterus did not include what it should. It was soon determined that I was most likely headed toward a miscarriage.
I didn’t experience any immediate symptoms of a miscarriage and was holding on to hope that the other side of things might be true…maybe I was just not as far along as first thought. This is something that was also normal.
We had to make a quick decision about high school camp and determined that we would all still go. It was a week by faith. We tried to go on like things were fine. But all along in the back of our minds was a huge possibility that I was in process of a miscarriage. Thank the Lord who got me through an entire week away with only minor issues. The last night of camp I began to cramp and bleed. And thank the Lord that I made it home in time for the real part of the miscarriage to take place.
This news is unexpected and sudden. Thanks so much for making our original news so special. While we’re not certain what God has planned for us, we want Him to be glorified through our circumstances. We definitely don’t have answers, but we want what He wants for us.
We don’t find it ironic that God gave us our little three year old foster daughter to care for a few months ago. Cheyenne has been an absolute doll and is such a part of our family. What He has planned for her or for us remains to be seen; but for now, we are thankful for the time we get with her.
From the beginning of our relationship, our lives have been an open book. What you see is what you get. We want people to walk with us through life. We aren’t perfect. We’ve made mistakes and we’ve had tough situations happen. At the end of the day we are thankful for how God has chosen to use us, as messed up as we are. We don’t have all the answers, but as we grieve we are trusting God and are excited to see what’s next for us and our family. We are hoping that God will grant us another little one who can grow fully. We look forward to that day.
Right now, as we explain to our little miss, our baby is being fully healed and is growing with Jesus. While mom doesn’t have a baby in her tummy anymore, we know our baby is safe with Jesus and that that’s the best place for our little one.
We appreciate your prayers and we may need shoulders to cry on. We love you.

Josh and Anna