37 Weeks with Baby Bum 3

We took maternity photos at the beginning of January, and as usual I'm so glad we did. I debated about what to wear for a while but ended up going with jeans, booties, a t-shirt, and cardigan, and I'm really happy with how they turned out. I love taking maternity photos because it's such a special time, and I take advantage of the opportunity to get a few shots of each of the kids, our family, and Jordan and I together.

I've felt so thankful for a routine, healthy pregnancy so far, but this past weekend I came down with what I thought was a terrible head cold only to find out that I somehow contracted THE FLU. I don't think I've ever had the flu before, and let me tell you it's awful. If no one else in my house catches it, it will be a miracle considering I showed symptoms for 3 days before I went to the dr to get tested. Not because I was trying to put everyone at risk but because I honestly thought it was just a bad cold!

I mean, can anyone really say "achy" is an abnormal symptom at 36.5 weeks pregnant? The dr was like, do you feel achy? Um, YES WHY DO YOU ASK. I tried to roll out of bed last week and got the worst side cramp of my life. I'm peeing every 8 seconds and basically need to just move my desk into the bathroom at this point. Oh yes, and the waddling is very real. 

Totally over all of it.

I was supposed to have my 37wk checkup today, but of course they said not to come in since I'm contagious with the flu, so I guess I'll just wait and see what's up with Baby Bum next week. R came at 38w5d, so that's like a week and a half from now IT'S FINE. The infant car seat is in the attic covered in dust but anyway.

I never once worried about how R was going to do once J came around, but I have to say, I am a little anxious about this little guy now that he's about to become a big brother. He still asks me to hold him constantly, wants Mama around always, and can be pretty aggressive, so I'm just not sure. I hate to be annoying and say it's a boy thing, but we have definitely noticed that for our kids, at least, J is much more aggressive and physical than R was at this age. But he is also so sweet and is saying more and more words and sentences every day. He's hilarious! My MIL has been watching him since I found out that officially and the flu, and I haven't even seen him in almost two full days now. I miss his sweet face!

It's strange to me that people know the gender of their babies and can call them by name before they are born. I sometimes forget that we knew with R and J! Not knowing honestly hasn't been that hard, but as my due date gets closer I am getting so excited to see who has been in there this whole time. Of course, I'd like Baby Bum to wait just a bit until I get over the flu... and until we solidify our name choices. Ha! What is wrong with us? I think we've decided on 2 girl names to choose from, and I think we have a boy name we both like, but we can't come up with a good middle name yet.

Among other things I'm feeling anxious about is going on maternity leave and then going back to work. I've done it twice, so obviously I have an idea of the challenges and how it works, and I know I can survive it and will figure out a good routine. But that will take time, and I just really dread the process of a new routine, because going back to work has been so hard for me both times, and I don't expect it to be magically easier this time.

Pregnancy is such a long process, from trying to get pregnant to getting pregnant to being pregnant to having a baby to recovering from having a baby. By the time it's almost over, I do want it to be over, but I also find that, for me at least, it's also really hard for everything to be over. Because there isn't anymore this One Big Thing you're focusing on but just that thing called life, which is beautiful and wonderful but also pretty hard sometimes.

Every time I think about actually having this baby I get surrounded by a swirl of emotions and usually end up crying. Happiness and anxiousness and excitement and gratefulness and also, I admit, fear because I really really want to be able to bring my baby home, and it's just a fact that not everyone gets to. SO. On that happy note (I'm just a treat to be around right now!), I'm going to get some more tea, blow my nose 800 more times, and sit on the couch while Baby Bum moves around--on the inside for now, but very soon (though not too soon, please!) to be on the outside.

Beware Nesting + Aggressive Geese

I know I've said it 598 times, but weekends are really my favorite. I love spending so much time with my kids, and I'm honestly never excited to head back to the office on Monday. If anything, being with them so much on Saturday and Sunday only makes me miss them more on Monday.

That said, it is pretty exhausting to spend allllll day with two toddlers. (Is R considered a toddler anymore? Maybe she's a "preschooler" now even though she doesn't go to preschool... ?) Unless it's raining or really cold or just way too hot, I try to leave the house with them at some point, just to get some fresh air and get out of the house. I know you guys feel me on this! 

Usually I take the kids by myself and give Jordan some alone time at the house, but on Saturday he came with us! I took my big camera and had fun taking some pictures of the kids as they ran around, and then I gave it to Jordan and he took a few of me with them on the swings. I have never been the type to jump out of a picture.

There's a great park close to our house, and it never fails that as we pull in I think about what a blessing it is to be able to live in a time and place that has free parks where the kids can run around and play. I know that sounds cheesy, but honestly, it's not something I want to take for granted. One thing the kids love about this park is that there's a pond and always tons of geese to watch. But we immediately noticed a sign when we got out of the car: Beware! Aggressive + Nesting Geese.

Does anyone else get freaked out by geese? I won't lie, I'm a little afraid of them on a normal day. They are fast and have huge beaks, and I panic a bit if they start walking toward me or the kids. The geese this weekend were no joke! There were tons of them ON the playground area honking and sticking their necks out, and I may have screamed at Jordan to grab J and run when he (J) was walking a little too close to one. But we stuck to the opposite side of the playground area, and no one was harmed by our park outing!

I try to enjoy the moment and not feeling like I have to document everything, but it is also fun to get the camera out and take pictures of them playing. I love photography, so it's fun practice! 

On Sunday I played violin at church, and we had a Father's Day recognition. I know Father's Day can be so hard for some people, either because their father has passed or because they don't have a good relationship with their own father or the father of their children. There are also those who would love to be a dad but aren't yet, and a few close friends of mine are in that camp. Yesterday the kids and I called my dad, my father-in-law, and both my grandpas to wish them a happy father's day. It is a gift from God that I have such wonderful fathers in my life! (I didn't intend to get so sappy in this post, but Father's Day will always give me all the feelings because 2 years ago J was born on Father's Day morning. His birthday is tomorrow the 18th, but Father's Day was on the 18th in 2017!)

We wished Jordan a happy father's day, and I gave him the gift I made: a 5-minute video collage filled with clips of him with the kids over the last 4 years. He loved it! Plus he loved it more because it was free lol ;) I actually did buy something for him: another pair of Bombas socks because he loved the first pair I got him a couple of months ago. (Use my referral code and get 25% off your first order!) R and I also baked him some cookies!

I hope you all had a lovely weekend and have a great start to the new week! Tomorrow J turns 2! Hold me.

Mothering with Open Hands

[daycare dropoff April 17, 2018]

The following post is something I wrote and submitted to an online site that was accepting blog submissions on the topic of the Gospel and motherhood. This post idea came to me easily, since we had just studied 1 Samuel at church the previous week, and I was really excited to submit this. We were told to wait a certain amount of time, and if we didn't hear back, our submission had been rejected and we could publish or submit it elsewhere. I admit that this was the sixth time I've submitted a blog post to another website (not all the same one) and gotten rejected. It's embarrassing to tell you that, but there it is. At least I'll never reject myself from my own blog ;)

I tell you that not to fish for compliments that I really am a great writer (I know I am. It's fine. I'm fine.). I say it only as a disclaimer that the post below is slightly different from my typical Lady Okie Blog writing style. But I do think the message here is important, especially as summer ends and so many moms start their kids in some form of school away from home. 

I will also be completely honest with you about something, though, and I do have a point, so hear me out if you will. This time of year, social media is filled with moms posting tearful goodbyes as they send their children off to preschool for a few hours a few days a week. As someone who has been away from their kids nine hours a day for five days a week since they were just a few months old, it's hard for me to sympathize with stories of difficult preschool or parent's day out dropoffs. I'm more like "yes! see what I have to do every day! get on my level!" than I am feeling bad for them. 

But (and here's my point) I do know that leaving your child, no matter how long or how often you do it, is hard. And I'm sure it's probably harder for people who don't do it as often as I do. Or maybe it's the same hard, but my heart has just become a calloused block of stone ha. 

Before I submitted this, I sent it to a friend of mine who is a stay-at-home mom and asked her if she could relate to what I wrote, because I don't always want to write just as a working mom but as a mom. I hope this is encouraging to anyone who has to leave their child somewhere. We can't avoid the fact that terrible, tragic things happen all the time; but at least for me, I can rest in the peace of knowing that God's plan for my child's life is better than the one I would plan for them (even if it doesn't seem to quite make sense at the time). I might not be there with them all the time, but they aren't alone.

***

I took my daughter to daycare for the first time when she was three months old. I had always known that for various reasons it would be necessary for our family that I continue to work full time after maternity leave. We had toured the daycares and weighed our childcare options, and we were confident in the place we had chosen—a faith-based traditional daycare center operating out of a local church—but as the day of my return to work approached, I could barely even think about it without crying.

That first morning, I carried her into the infant room, and they handed me a “Baby’s First Day” worksheet to fill out. “It helps the teachers get to know her,” they told me. It included questions like “How does she best fall asleep?” and “How often does she eat?” and then at the bottom, there were five blank lines and this: Is there anything else you want her teachers to know?

My eyes filled with tears, and my hand holding the pen shook a little as I looked over at my sweet girl, sitting calmly in a bouncy seat chewing on a rattle. She looked up at me, her dark brown eyes full of complete trust.

Is there anything else you want her teachers to know?

I remember feeling frozen. There’s not enough space here, I wanted to say. There aren’t enough lines.

I want to tell them about everything, about how silly and smart she is, about how much she makes me laugh. How she loves to cuddle in the morning, what her favorite toy is, and how she likes to be held. How to tell the difference between her hunger and tired cries, and that she favors her right side and we are trying to watch it and avoid a flat spot.

Tears streamed down my face as everything I’d learned about my daughter in her first three months of life flashed by as though I were flipping through a deck of cards.

****

The first chapter of 1 Samuel tells the story of Hannah, a woman who was barren until the Lord “remembered her” and she gave birth to a son, Samuel. (1 Samuel 1:19-20)

A few verses later, Hannah says what has become a much-beloved and often-quoted verse about the blessing of a child: “I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him.” (1 Samuel 1:27)

Chosen for baby dedications, printed on the back of birth announcements, and quoted as part of pregnancy reveals, this verse is beloved as a symbol of blessing and the joy of answered prayer. But what can be easy to forget about Hannah’s story is verse 28: “So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.”

Hannah prayed “year after year” (v.7) for a child, and then she took him to be dedicated at the house of the Lord “after he was weaned” (v. 24), which we can estimate at that time was about three years. Just as I learned so much about my daughter her first three months, I suspect Hannah had a hundred times the memories and moments with her son before she left him with Eli the priest at three years old.

I can only imagine how her eyes filled with tears and her hand trembled a bit as she kissed her firstborn son and prepared to leave the house of God. And maybe just before she turned away, Eli asked her, “Is there anything else you want me to know?”

As mothers, we want to believe we know our children the best, that we love them the most. But Hannah knew better, and her story is both a reminder and an encouragement of God’s sovereign control and righteous ownership over everything we have, including and perhaps especially over our children. We can pray for our children, love our children, provide for our children, but ultimately we need to remember whose they were first—and then give them back to God with open hands.

Having open hands as mothers is something God requires of all of us, no matter where you spend your days. Just as Hannah physically left her son with Eli the priest, so too do we leave our children at daycare or with the babysitter or in the church nursery or with their preschool teacher. It’s scary. It’s hard.

Hannah’s story is a reminder that while we may physically leave them for a period of time, God never does. And when we do, there is no first-day worksheet. There are no questions to answer or blank lines to fill in. After all, it was he who “knit us together” in the womb (Psalm 139:13). He knows our children more intimately and completely than we will ever know them in three months or three years or three decades.

We are finite human beings, unable to see beyond what we are facing today. Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:34 not to worry about tomorrow, and while that is a nice saying for Sunday school, it is hard for us mothers to put into practice when there’s so much to worry about for our children. We need to daily remind ourselves that they are God’s first, and we need to have open hands with the gift he gave us.

In 1 Samuel 2:19, the Bible tells us that each year Hannah made Samuel a robe and brought it to him when she went to offer her annual sacrifice. I wonder if she cried while carefully sewing that robe together for her child. I wonder how long she was able to see him and if they were able to talk at all.

It’s been two and a half years of daycare drop-offs, and recently we added a baby boy to our family and I now have a second bag to pack every morning. On that very first day, they handed me the same worksheet, and once again I was frozen by the last question: Is there anything else you want his teachers to know?

Everything, I thought. There’s just not enough space.

I left him there that morning with tears in my eyes but peace in my heart. It is comforting to know that God fills in all the blanks, and he is right there with my children even when I’m not. He loves them more than I could and knows them better than I ever will.

Hannah honored God by returning her blessing back to him, and the last we hear of her is in 1 Samuel 2:21: “And the Lord was gracious to Hannah; she gave birth to three sons and two daughters. Meanwhile, the boy Samuel grew up in the presence of the Lord.”

It’s hard to let them go, but they are his first. An answer to prayer, and an opportunity to give our treasured gift back to Christ. For what better, more holy place for our children to be than in the presence of the most holy Lord. 

How Pregnancy #2 Has Been Different (in a good way!)

It's still so strange to be able to say things like "the first time I was pregnant..."

I found out I was pregnant when I was only 4 weeks along (technically 2 weeks pregnant, but they start counting 2 weeks before conception because science likes to be difficult). The first ten weeks or so crawled by at the speed of a dying turtle. But the past few weeks have started to pick up, and sometimes I have to remind myself that hey, there's a baby in there!

I kept a weekly pregnancy journal for my pregnancy with R, and it's been so fun to be able to compare my symptoms and general feelings from two years ago with this second pregnancy. So much of it is the same as far as how the first trimester went physically (which I why I'm currently thinking baby #2 is going to be a girl), but there are a few things in particular that already have been so different in a really good way for me emotionally.

1. I have been able to control my daily anxiety better this time.

Unfortunately, I spent a lot of time during my first pregnancy being anxious. Anxious of a miscarriage, of the baby not kicking, of the baby not kicking enough, of a birth defect, of early labor, and on and on. I got really worked up for my prenatal appointments and counted down the days until my next one. 

This time, I still feel anxiety. I don't know how that would ever completely go away. I still get anxious before my doctor's appointments. But I have really been focusing on not letting anxiety control me, and it's made a huge difference, so much so that Jordan has even noticed and commented on it. It's not that I'm not nervous about things being okay, but I've realized that nothing I do can control how my baby develops and what is going to happen. I am focusing on enjoying being pregnant, being excited to meet this new baby, and being thankful to have the opportunity to carry another human. It's made this pregnancy so much more fun! It's also just been nice to know what the heck is going on a little bit more than last time. I feel like less of a newbie with doctor visits and symptoms.

2. I know I can survive labor, so it's not quite as terrifying.

Don't get me wrong. Labor was absolutely the most painful thing that has ever happened to me, and I would be lying if I told you that I wasn't scared of doing it again. When I was giving birth to R, I asked my doctor multiple times if I was going to die. I laugh about it now, but in the moment I was completely serious. It was so painful that I really thought it might kill me. 

Jordan and I never ended up taking a birthing class before I had R due to a scheduling conflict, but mostly it was because the mere thought of labor terrified me to my very core, and I would start crying if I even talked about it. It was The Great Unknown, and I had no idea what to expect. I know that no labor is the same, and I still don't know what to expect this time around, but I do know a little bit more about what exactly the words "labor and delivery" mean, and I know that the pain will eventually be over and I will be okay. I am excited that this time the idea of labor will not be this dark cloud hanging over my head until June. My plan is to basically just block out the idea that I'm even going to have to do it until it happens. Wish me luck with that one.

3. I am prepared for a newborn.

I'm not necessarily saying that I'm prepared to be more tired than I've ever been in my life. Or that I'm prepared for the midnight feeding sessions and the crying and the impossibility of getting the baby to sleep somewhere not on my chest for just one nap please. I'm definitely not saying I'm prepared to have a newborn with a toddler running around. But I've brought home one baby and kept her alive for a while, so I feel more prepared in general for bringing home another one. 

With R, I literally asked my mom what babies sleep in because I didn't know. I didn't know what to do when she had a fever or how to help when she had gas. Over the last year and a half, I've learned a lot about taking care of a baby, and I'm thinking that when this second baby comes home, it won't be such a complete and utter what-on-earth-is-going-on kind of shock.

4. Similar to #3, Jordan and I are prepared for a newborn.

Adding a baby to our lives really rocked our marriage. We were both so tired and got so stressed out when it was 2am and R was crying and we didn't know what to do. We had to figure out our roles and what worked for us. I know that going from one kid to two is quite a leap, so I am by no means saying it's going to be easy, but I think that Jordan and I are going to be a lot more prepared to add another baby to our family now that we've done it once before, and hopefully we can be a better team this time.

5. I know I can survive taking my baby to daycare.

If you don't know this by now, I'm basically am emotional basket case. I cry a lot. When it came to thinking about taking R to daycare, I broke down in full-on sobs. I could barely think about it without crying. We are hoping to put baby #2 in the same daycare as R, and that eases a lot of stress already. I know the people there, we like it, R did well, and most of all: I know I can do it. I'm thinking this will allow me to enjoy my maternity leave more instead of sadly counting down the days until I have to start back at work like I'm on death row or something. I (hopefully) won't have to tour daycares and call around and get on waiting lists because we will already have something lined up that we know has been working for us.

6. I believe that somehow, everything will work out.

Before we had R, I said things like, "I don't know how we are going to afford to have a baby" because I honestly didn't feel like we had enough money to pay for all the things we were going to have to pay for (not only diapers and wipes but big things like insurance and actually paying for my delivery). With baby #2, I look back and wonder how I thought we wouldn't have enough money for a baby because now we really don't have enough money.

I do wonder how it will all work out, and it stresses me out to think about it. But I don't for a second wonder if it will all work out, because I know somehow it will. God has provided for us, and so far that hasn't looked like me being able to quit my job. It hasn't looked like raises or bonuses at work for either of us. It hasn't looked like random checks in the mail or an inheritance in a will from a long-lost relative. 

It hasn't looked like anything, really, except that we pay our bills and buy food and tithe and still have a little money leftover at the end of the month to put in savings. And isn't that really all we need anyway?

Of course I worry about a birth defect or an expensive NICU stay or labor complications. I worry about SIDs and developmental problems and proper weight gain. I worry that I'll have the same pumping issues I had the last time and not be able to have enough milk.

But I don't worry about how my life is going to change. I don't worry that I won't be a good mother. I don't worry that I won't be able to bond with my baby or that I won't love him or her. I was scared of that once, but I'm not anymore. And that's the biggest thing that is different this time.

Baby Bum #2, we already love you so much and can't wait to meet you.

*This post was based in part on one I wrote during my first pregnancy: The Fear

That's Life: Reflecting on 2016 + Looking to 2017

I did a few of these "That's Life" posts last year (originally saw this on Erin's blog), and I thought this would be a good way to recap 2016 and look forward to 2017 goals. This turned out to be really long (like, woah), but splitting it up into two posts felt silly, so I won't blame you if you don't read all the way to the end. A lot of this is just for me to process out loud and will be good to look back on if I forget what it was I wanted to focus on in 2017.

Cheers to You

Yesterday I went in to work with R for the last time. Starting January 4, I will be back in the office full time, and R will go to daycare during the day. I've cried about it a lot, but ultimately this is the right decision for our family at this time. Lately I've seen a lot of different articles about daycare, some good and some bad. People have a lot of strong opinions about daycare one way or the other, but what it really comes down to is realizing that parents are doing the best they can for their children, whether that means quitting your job or continuing to work.

I will miss her terribly, but I also realize that I need to trust that God will watch over her when I can't during the day. I took her to meet her teachers last week, and I hung out in the room and played with R for a while, talking to the teachers and trying to show R where she will be in a few weeks. I really do think playing with other babies and having someone else take care of her will be good for her. Daycare is in no way a substitute for parenting, and when people say that or even imply it, it is extremely hurtful. Just a tip for you if you want to be sensitive to your working mom friends.

I will go see her during my lunch hour to play with her and feed her. I have a lot of anxiety about what will happen--how we will find a good schedule that works for her, how I will fit in all the things I need to do and spend time with her when I am off work. I know it will be a huge adjustment, and I am trying to remind myself that I shouldn't expect to find a groove immediately. It could take weeks or months even to really figure out what works best.

I cannot put into words what it has meant for me to be able to stay at home with her this long. I know not many people (in the United States) have that option. But I am thankful too for the ability to go to work at a place I like with people I enjoy, doing a job I am good at and that makes me feel fulfilled. I really feel blessed.

To all you working moms out there who may be reading this, I want you to know that I hear you. It's hard. But you are doing a great job. And you're a fantastic mom. Cheers to you, friend.

The Fear

The closer I get to Baby Bum's arrival and the actual event of giving birth, the less I want to hear about babies and birth stories.

Due to conflicting schedules at our hospital, Jordan and I will not be able to take a childbirth class, so the lady in charge mailed us a package of the material they go over in the class. I haven't even cracked it open.

I realize I shouldn't go into it blind. I should know something about the medicine they'll offer and birthing positions and the stages of labor. I should be aware of some of the things that could happen. I need to be informed.

I should probably read books about sleep training and breastfeeding and baby schedules. We can't leave the hospital without this kind of knowledge! It's just mean of them to kick us out of our room, hand us a two-day-old baby, and say, "Good luck."

I realize people have been having babies for centuries and lived to tell the tale. Jordan and I are both one of four kids, and our parents seem to be doing just fine. I know very well that everything will be fine, so I'm not asking for reassurance.

It's just that the part of me that knows everything will work out forgot to tell that to the part of me that holds the crippling fear of the unknown. That same part that holds the fear also holds the selfishness, and together they make quite a team.

Yes, we want this baby. I want to be clear about that. I spent years terrified I would never be able to get pregnant and years praying for this very thing I have. But now? She's almost here, and I am afraid.

Everyone says your life is never the same again, but it's okay because it changes for the better. But see, here's the thing. I can't imagine my life changing for the better because I already like my life how it is. I like going where I want when I want. I like having time for my favorite hobbies. I like sleeping in and going to the bathroom in peace.

I'm scared that I'm too selfish to be a good mom.

I'm scared of the life changes and the marriage changes and the changes I don't even know to be scared about yet.

I'm even scared of loving someone so much.

And you know babies are expensive, right? Not just with the things you think of like buying clothes and diapers but with everything. Adding her to our insurance. Doctor visits when she flips down the slide at the park and breaks her arm. And what if something's wrong with her? What if she has cancer or has some type of rare disease or learning disability?

She could die in her sleep, you know. That happens sometimes. I could drop her. She could choke on a piece of grape I didn't cut up small enough.

If my heart is walking around outside my body in the form of this little person, then tell me what I'm supposed to do if something happens to my heart?

It's the fear, you see. It doesn't want to be friends with the calm, rational part of me that says that it all will be fine and I can handle it. It doesn't want me to believe that even if it's not fine, when the sad times come I will rise above and be able to handle that too.

So here's what I want you, mom friend, to tell me. 

First, don't hit me with some well-meaning line about how it will all work out and how much you love your kids and how you wouldn't trade anything for them. It's not that I don't believe you, but it's not what I want to hear.

If you're going to say anything, tell me how scared you were once too. Tell me that my fears are normal, that I'm not too selfish to be a good mother. Tell me it's okay to mourn the loss of this season of life even as I gratefully and nervously anticipate the next. Save your stories of labor pains and crayon all over the walls and exploding diapers and no sleep for after I have this baby. Because right now, I honestly just don't want to hear about it.

I realize the fear will always be there now, in one form or another. So just tell me that's okay. Tell me how to make the fear my friend. Tell me we're in this together, all of us moms. Tell me I'm not alone.

And maybe, I don't know, offer to watch my kid for five minutes for me while I go to the bathroom? That would be great.

I'm Better with Words

Today I'm linking up with Samantha over at Elah Tree for an installment of her "artist guild" series! Each month has a different creative prompt, and this month's was "paint a canvas." You can read more about the linkup and prompts over here.

____________

 Let's be honest.

I do words. I don't do paint.

I think the last time I painted was in elementary school, and so this project was mostly fun, but it was also a little bit stressful.

Last weekend, I went to Hobby Lobby and got some supplies, and then I spent my entire Tuesday evening staring at a blank 8x10 canvas wondering what the heck I was supposed to do. I also wasted half my red and blue acrylic paint tubes trying to make purple, and every time I kept just getting gray, which I painted over with black because I couldn't handle looking at the color of failure. Mad props to people who mix paint. It's not as easy as it sounds or looks. Or maybe it is, and I'm just confused.

I'm not really one of those people who's good at "just going for it" when it comes to creativity. I edit every sentence as I write, I like sticking firmly to recipes, and it took me an entire year to finish my wedding scrapbook.

So the whole "just put paint on a canvas, it doesn't have to be a masterpiece" thing is pretty much my worst nightmare behind getting lost in space or finding a snake in my toilet (I read a news story once about a guy who found a ten-foot snake in his toilet pipe, and now I always think about that when I'm going to the bathroom). 

To top it off, I'm delusional. For some reason I thought maybe I was a painting prodigy whose artistic genius had yet to be recognized.

Clearly, I'll have to find another way to make my millions.

In any case, I have now officially finished my very first canvas! Like I said, it was fun, once I got over my crushing realization that I'm not going to be the next Picasso. Thanks again to Samantha for the inspiration! It's good to get out of your creative comfort zone every once in a while.

Now the question of what to do with these. I mean, they're not exactly something I can hang on my bedroom wall and pretend they're the work of my six-year-old who brings home art projects from the first grade.

No, don't worry about it. I made these. I'm an adult who paints with cookie cutters and can't make the color purple.

At least I'm good with words. Right?
Do you do paint? If not, what's your creative "thing"?

it's a good thing and a bad thing

[you can download this lovely desktop image here]

August is around the corner! Crazy doesn't even describe how I feel about the fact that we're officially past the halfway mark of 2013. I used to wonder where I'd be in 5 years. I think that's funny. Five years? I don't know where I'll be next month! Oh, August 2013, what do you have in store for me?

This not knowing is a good and bad thing, I guess. On one hand, the planner in me is screaming, "I HATE THIS! I WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!"

On the other hand, I am quite certain that God is using this time in my life to teach me. I am learning many lessons, one of which is to be more flexible. Go with the flow, as they say. I don't know if you've sensed this about me from reading my blog, but I'm not so much a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of person. (Is that the expression? It feels wrong to me, but maybe that's because it's 9:26 p.m. on a Friday night and this grandma is tired.)

Flexibility isn't a bad thing. I've been learning to give control over to God, who is not (though sometimes it doesn't seem that way) surprised by my current life situation. For me this is a comforting thought. I would say the most comforting thought of any thought I've had lately, many of which have not been comforting at all. For example, the thought that I will never be able to retire because I will have no retirement fund and will still be living in this apartment when I'm 92.


The onslaught of thoughts that are less than comforting is probably why I've enjoyed reading blogs so much lately. It's so weird to share personal thoughts with strangers over the internet (or your IRL friends too; it's like a personal diary everyone reads!), but it's so wonderful when you read a post and you're like, "Wait. Did I write this?" because it sounds so much like something you could have said about yourself. And maybe you even have said it about yourself; you just couldn't put it into words quite as well.

I want to share a few of those posts with you, because maybe they'll speak to you too.

Earlier this week I read Jenny's post on Dealing with Disappointment. It was perfect. That's really all there is to say.

My post about how to find blogging success got crazy traffic (by that I mean more than 10 comments). It seems we all struggle with finding blogging success, and even non bloggers struggle with finding success in their own niches. Specifically regarding blogging, I appreciated Hannah's post on What's the Point in Blogging? It was a great companion piece to my post (at least I thought so).

Running. 

I have been running, although the summer has proved to be a beast in terms of humidity and heat. "I love it when sweat drips off my elbows," said no one ever.

I've been averaging about 10 miles/week, which I know is like a short run to some people, but after 18 weeks of marathon training, I have absolutely loved running without caring about distance or time or pace (okay, I still care a little about pace). For the last 3 months I've been running 3 days/week with runs between 3 and 6 miles. I just kind of set out and go until I feel like stopping. That being said, I'm signed up for half marathons #6 and #7 this fall (in October and November). Training starts August 3 and then it's back to scheduled weekly runs. Anyone else scheduled for fall races?

In other running news, I'll be hitting my 2013 goal of 500 miles for the year pretty soon, which is exciting. I remember thinking 500 miles sounded like an insane amount, so it's fun to see how far I've come in a few years' time.

I loved this post from Dorothy about how to move on from a bad run. It came at the perfect timing seeing as how I'd just gotten back from a horribly disappointing run where I was like, I can run a marathon, but I can't run 2 miles?! It was a sad day, but this post made me feel much better.

Also, you might be interested to know that I started another Kate Morton book earlier this week. I loved the last one I read so much that I decided to go for another. I'm reading The Distant Hours, which is a bit slower pace than The Forgotten Garden but still full of interesting characters and plot twists. Kate Morton has definitely been added to my favorite author list.

So. 
How to end a scatterbrained post such as this? 
I suppose by reminding you that everything is going to be okay. 
Really, it is. 

What I mean is, it will be okay as long as there's chocolate.

Going After My Dream Job

Day 20 | Get real. Share something you're struggling with right now.
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I almost didn't write this one because I couldn't decide what to focus on. I feel like I'm full of struggles right now, and although I try my best to be positive, some days I do better than others at not completely freaking out.

I think the thing I am struggling most with right now is with my career path. If you've been around for a while, you know that going on 3 months ago, I lost my job. It's a long story and slightly too personal to share on this blog, but I will say that I'm still not entirely sure why I lost my job. I've lost sleep thinking about it, though. 

As a driven, dedicated, type-A individual, getting let go from my job was a huge shot to my self-esteem and caused me to question my work ethic (which is excellent, by the way) and wonder just what the heck I'm even doing with my life. 

I decided to use my forced retirement to see if I could actually pursue my dream job: freelance editing.

Come to find out, networking for this kind of thing is even harder than I thought it would be. And seeing as how I thought it would be really hard, the fact that it's even harder than really hard has thrown me for a loop.

I did spend time trying to find a full-time job, but recently I've cut back on that slightly to see if I can network and find editing clients. Because I love editing. LOVE IT. And I'm really good. I have real-life authors who can back that up, so it's not just me saying that. (And before you're like "well I found a typo on your blog, so you can't be that good" let me just say that self-editing is a whole different monster than editing someone else's work. I try to get them all, but I'm not perfect.)

The problem is, I can't just tell my electric bill that I'm a great editor and call it even. My apartment office won't take an IOU for rent.

Jordan and I have a great budget in place, and we're currently debt free (HOLLER!), but we're not those people who can make it on just one income, so I need to be bringing in money. I'm struggling with knowing what I should do and whether or not I should be pursing this editing thing at all, and I struggle with NOT STRESSING OUT about it. 

I am a worrier. I didn't think I was, maybe because I hoped I wasn't. But it turns out I'm the worry wart, and Jordan's the optimistic one in our marriage. I think we're both surprised about that.

Anyway, I don't have an answer to any of this yet, obviously. I'm in the middle of it, and just like my letter to my newlywed self I wrote last week, I wonder what future me would write in a letter to myself right now. I would definitely tell myself to stop worrying, but we all know that's easier said than done.

Yesterday at church we sang the classic hymn "It Is Well With My Soul," and I had to ask myself if it really IS well with my soul. I want it to be. So much. I want to have peace no matter what, and I want to be joyful and thankful for what I have instead of thinking about all that I don't have.

So.... yeah. I don't know how to end this except to add a shameless plug for myself. If you need editing for a book you're writing or you know someone who's looking for an editor, you can send them to my website, where I have my fees listed as well as a blog where I post writing and editing tips (like how to correctly use apostrophes--HUGE pet peeve of mine). You can also follow @amanda_editor on twitter.

boston.

I had a different post already written and scheduled to publish.

It was going to be about how April is my running anniversary. About how in April 2010, I started training for my first half marathon and about how I will be running my very first marathon in less than two weeks.

It was about what I love about running and how my life has changed--how I've changed--since I signed up for that first race.

Then Boston happened.
And I cried.

In many ways it was similar to how I felt about the Connecticut shootings just a few short months ago. But in other ways it was so different.

This hit closer to home for me, and I feel personally violated. My blogger friend Lauren put it perfectly when she said that running is her safe space.

What I really love about running is that when you run, you don't lose. Ever. No matter how slow or fast, last place or first, you just don't lose. As Lauren said: If you can put your feet on the ground, you're in.

And there is NOTHING like the feeling you get when you cross that finish line.

Today, that victory was taken away as a blast went off just steps from the finish line of the Boston Marathon.

There are so many things that break my heart about what happened today. I can't imagine the joy of a lifetime accomplishment stolen by fear. Fear of those participating, fear of those watching.

I really don't know what else to say except that I'll be running the Oklahoma City marathon in two weeks. It's a race to remember the OKC bombing of April 1995 and the 168 lives lost. Now, this year, we will also remember the Boston Marathon.

“The reason we race isn't so much to beat each other... but to be with each other.” 
―Christopher McDougall (author of Born to Run)

- let's be social - 

  

What to Do After You Get Fired: A Guide

A few of you noticed in a recent post how I nonchalantly slipped in the small fact that I am currently jobless. 

No, you did not miss the memo. There was no memo, because I wasn't talking about it. I have since decided, however, that talking about it isn't such a bad thing, so here goes. 

Two Monday's ago, I had the unfortunate experience of being forced into early retirement. That's what I've been calling it to make it sound better, but it goes by many names, all equally depressing: let go, fired, laid off. 

Personally, I'm voting for the phrase "forced into early retirement." It makes me sound like I'm spending my free time traveling around the globe as opposed to what I am actually doing: riding the wave of stress while searching for a job and occasionally letting out random wails of "I am a huge failure" and "I am going to live in a box on the street!" to Jennifer Garner's face on the TV screen from where I've just watched 31 episodes of Alias.

For the visual folk, the above picture is a symbol of what has now happened. 
I have become the dead leaf on a dead twig that's lying in a dead sidewalk of an apartment complex. (Important note: it's not even on a neighborhood street of a house. It's an apartment.)

Now, at this point you might be starting to feel sorry for me, so let me just stop and say that you shouldn't feel sorry for me. I mean, I guess if you do feel sorry for me I can't stop you. And I wouldn't refuse offers of money. Ahem.

But seriously, instead of bemoaning my recent push into unemployment, I wanted to take a moment and share some wisdom. You see, the Forced Into Early Retirement Club (FIER, as I like to say [pronounced like FEAR because, well, it's awesome]), is exclusive. Not everyone gets to be in it, and you certainly can't ask to be in it. BUT should you ever find yourself in this situation, I want to share with you what I have learned. Unsolicited wisdom from me, who is now wise in the way of firings, to you, who might at some point find yourself in a similar unfortunate situation. 

These are the steps of forced early retirement that will be there to help you in the long, lonely days ahead. 

1. Conserve

Let's be honest. You've just been fired, so the best thing you can do for yourself is conserve your now limited resources. Start by turning off all the lights and pulling out your stash of candles. 

Candles are romantic anyway, and you don't really need light. Laura Ingalls Wilder managed just fine without it, and if she can do it, you can too. Complete darkness will be better for you anyway, because you won't want to face anyone after crying for days over your failed career. You probably will also want to forego showering, which is not romantic at all but necessary in the name of conservation. 

While you're at it, you definitely should stop doing laundry. Let's be honest: it's not like you have anywhere to go.

And if after a few days you find that you really need light, pull out your black mask, steal a bike, and set up a windmill-type operation in your living room to power your electronics and electricity. You're conserving while getting in shape. Brilliant. This won't help the showering thing, though, unfortunately. 

2. Embrace the Silver Lining

After turning off the lights, there's nothing like utter darkness to assist with you rapidly falling into a pit of depression. Don't do this. Instead, remember that the second step to handle being forced into early retirement is to embrace the silver lining, which is the following:

Professionally speaking, you have hit a non-literal rock bottom. The worst has happened, and there is no possible way to sink any lower. Therein lies the cliche, which is your silver lining and second step towards healing: there's nowhere to go but up. 

It has to get better simply because it can't get any worse. 
Repeat this to yourself in the mirror while holding a candle up to your face (see: #1). Because that will make it seem even more intense.

3. Itemize Your Valuables

Okay, so the darkness and no showering are saving you some money, but with no income, you need to find a way to make money. Fast. The best way to do this is to make a list of your valuables. Start with what would get you the most money on Ebay and go from there. If you have a spouse, he should offer to go first so your things are the last to go. 

Tip: Don't sell the candles, obviously, but it's probably okay to lose the personal hygiene products (see: #1).

If you don't have a spouse (or just like living on the edge), you might try getting out the black mask and waiting until your neighbors are out of the house to find stuff of theirs to sell. This will be easy because you are out of a job and will be home all day long--you have all the time in the world to wait them out. They have to go get toilet paper sometime. 

Take my neighbors. They leave every day at 8:30 and arrive home promptly at 5:17. Don't ask me how I know that. 

4. Embrace the Second Silver Lining

Step 4 is the best one and could really be step #1 except for the whole shower-and-sitting-in-the-dark-crying thing. 

Once you arrive at step 4, you realize that not only is this the worst that can happen, but you now have a built-in excuse for avoiding any commitment! 

Already said yes to that baby shower for that person you don't really know all that well? "Sorry, I can't come because I just got fired." BOOM. You can't argue with that. 

Don't want to buy a birthday gift for your brother's girlfriend*? Don't! You just got fired and you've been selling all your stuff, so either re-gift last-seaon's boots or better yet, don't get her anything! 

*I thought of this example before realizing that my brother's girlfriend's birthday was actually earlier this week. Ironically, I didn't get her a gift, but it was not because I don't like her or because I got fired. It was because I got lazy, which, now that I think about it, isn't all that much better. But wait! I just got fired! Also an excuse for laziness. 
BOOM x2.

Step #4 is how you get your spouse to do the dishes. 

Don't tell him I said that.  
5. Find Someone to Make Fun Of


Finally, if all else fails and you're still feeling blue, just find someone who's more ridiculous than you are to make fun of. Because laughter and flagrant judging of others is, as they say, the best medicine. 

For example: let's hypothetically say you drove to Texas to visit your family the weekend after your firing, and let's say after lunch your brothers take turns trying to funnel gummie bears into their mouths using the placemats. 

They look like idiots and they miss every single time, and it makes you feel better about being a pathetic loser.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.