I always think it is amazing when Mother's Day or Father's Day comes around and suddenly, social media is lit up with positive, uplifting posts about parents. It makes me smile to see the old photos, the heartwarming stories, and the love that is just pouring out of folks. Typically, social media is crushed with negativity and scapegoating.
As for me, I kind of fell silent this Mother's Day on social media. I wanted to soak in everything that was being said about parents. I wasn't mad at my mom, mother-in-law, grandma or aunt. I don't love them any less that day just because I enjoyed everyone's posts and waited to write something up of my own. (But you would be surprised how many people notice you didn't write something. Maybe I post too much! HAHA) However, I can't let the time pass without sharing with you about the woman who made me who I am.
I'll be totally straight up with you. I may have been a good kid growing up, but I know for my mom, I wasn't the easiest daughter to raise. Probably from day one, my mom and I were different from each other. I can almost guarantee you, I wasn't the little girl she probably had dreamed about having from the time she discovered she wanted to be a mom. I was rough, tumble, and loud. (I'm pretty much still all those things.) I didn't like dresses, having my hair fixed, or being without my basketball. Now, that's not to say I didn't like girl things. I carried around a Cabbage Patch doll, and I had some barbies and a few My Little Ponies that ran around with Rainbow Brite. Yet, I was drawn to GI Joes, Thundercats, and Voltron. I can only imagine what she thought as she watched my GI Joes riding around on pretty pink and white ponies with pictures on their rears.
As I got older, the difference in our personalities became more pronounced. However, she immersed herself in my world--basketball. She went to games and learned to do the books and the score board. She has eaten thousands of concession stand dinners, chaperoned too many kids in hotel rooms (where she saw a dead cat under a bed--seriously, an awesome story for another time), and washed far too many sweaty pairs of socks and jerseys. Late nights, fast food meals, and long bus rides were her life from the time I was in 6th grade until I graduated from Piedmont.
How she dealt with a kid that was so different from who she was, is beyond me. Sometimes, as a parent, I talk to the boys and the difference in how we each think blows me away. Of course, it's to be expected because of the gender difference. One would think that with us being women, it would be more similar. It wasn't. I am sure she thought I was insane not just because of my interests, but in the way that I thought.
You see, my mom is an awesome woman. She always dresses nice, wears make-up, fixes her hair and is sweet to everyone. I rarely dress like anything other than a hobo. The closest I get to make-up is Chapstick. I haven't had a hair cut in probably two years. And sweet? Let's just say, I cherish the people who think that I am remotely anything like that. My mom has always cared what people think about her and I usually don't think twice about it. For the most part, my mom knows what to say to make people feel better. I have been told I am too critical. She invests in relationships and I struggle to keep them going. I felt like she always had a handle on my sister and I. She was the ultimate chaos coordinator. Me, on the other hand....I am just treading water every day.
I know she would never in a million years believe this, but she really seemed to have it all together. Looking back over those years when she was dealing with me and my craziness as a teenager, I know I frustrated her to no end, but I felt like she dealt with it and then moved on. By the next day she was treating me like normal again. Here I have elementary age children and I feel like I drag the same feelings around for days. How did she do that?
In all honesty, my mom and I aren't as different as I would like to believe. We both love our children with every fiber of our beings. She is the one who taught me how to do that. She and I have sacrificed a lot for our kids. She gave up other career opportunities where she would have had a retirement account and insurance with a more impressive salary, to work at a Christian school with hardly any benefits except a discount on tuition (that was reduced practically each year). I learned everything I know about sacrifice from her and my dad. Her sacrifice was more obvious to me though because I saw it every day. I feel her pain now that I have experienced a similar type of sacrifice. Neither of us are super awesome housekeepers. I think we both live by the motto, "Spending time with our kids > than an organized home." We both love people. I can remember from a very young age watching my mom love on her friends. I always thought she was a great person to have on your side. She still is. While I am not the best at cultivating relationships with others, I do love people. I have always tried to do that through my careers through the years. We both get hangry. Never was a truer sentence written. Let's be honest ladies......there aren't many of us who don't get that way right? The similarities don't end there. We have the same horse hair that is so thick that you will die of heat exhaustion in the summer. We both love mushrooms and traveling. Neither of us like scary movies or change.
Honestly, everything you see about me that is good, came from being taught by her and my dad. She invested every ounce of herself into raising my sister and I. If you think highly of me at all, it is because of the prayers, tears, and emotional struggle that she went through every day. Thank you is not sufficient for her.
The neat thing though? She learned from her mom too. I get the benefit of learning from both of these women. I mean, how blessed is this girl? So many other women invested in my life in a positive way, aunts, great-aunts, great-grandmas, that when Mother's Day comes each year, I am reminded that I am also to be this for my kids, nieces, and nephews. They leave such a legacy and lead by example. Hopefully, one day, I will get to hear my kids say the same thing about me and I will simply tell them, "I get it from my momma!"
Happy Mother's Day from the Chief Chaos Coordinator of the Cox Crew!
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
Tuesday, May 9, 2017
This is Us
A typical day for us goes a little something like this.......
Anthony gets up first and reads his Bible and drinks a ridiculous amount of coffee. It's one cup. It's a rather large cup, but it's one cup. My alarm goes off right before he gets into the shower and I drag myself out of the bed. (I would like to add here that I recently have been getting up and doing my personal quiet time while he is in another room doing his. I have been horrible about this as I have become less of a morning person since the homeschool adventure with all the kids started.) We get dressed and right before I wake up the kids, I get a quick "I love you!," a kiss, and he's out the door headed to work. We see each other (usually) at lunch time. We have an hour to catch up on the day so far and for me to unload to him about how rough my part of the day has been. Once again, he's out the door. He comes home about 5:30pm and he hits the kitchen while I work. We sit and eat. We typically do some kind of needed chore or run around with the kids for a bit and then hit the sack. Wasn't that the perfect day you dreamed about when you thought about getting married?
This is us, day in and day out. Some days we throw in a baseball or basketball game, church, time with extended family, or my not so favorite trip--Wal-mart. But for the most part, this is us.
When you are considering marriage as young adults, it seems so romantic and blissful. We were married straight out of college (literally in between semesters of our graduate program). I remember all the high hopes and great expectations I had walking into the whole situation. They all came crashing into reality the day we were married. I am not lying when I say I basically had a panic attack leaving the church on our way to our honeymoon. Everything hit me like a brick wall as I sat in the car next to this man I had just married, and the tears just came. I had left everything I had ever known behind at the church--everyone having a fantastic time, enjoying life, and eating my cake. Of course, Anthony was totally taken aback as I lost it for about 30 minutes or so. He may have been nervous that day, but he wasn't at all thinking about the past. He seemed totally ready for the future. That was us.
As time went on, I realized just how hard married life really is. I worked incredibly crazy hours at a job that was over 30 minutes away from him. Work was a big deal for both of us and we wanted to be the best we could. It's amazing how much that took a toll on our marriage. I look back now and I am ashamed that I put our relationship on the back burner during that crucial time. The first five years of marriage are insane. I don't think anyone ever really said that to us out loud. I think people hinted at it, but never said it straight out. I am saying it loud and clear. THE FIRST FIVE YEARS ARE CRAZY HARD. If you are reading this and you are in those years, definitely take time to get to know your spouse. Invest in your relationship because so many things come along after those first five years that you will never find the time to do it later. In those first years you learn so much about each other. Not just likes and dislikes, but hopes, dreams, preferences, secrets, etc. Looking back, I feel like I knew more about the lives of my students than I did about Anthony's. It wasn't because I cared for him less, I just gave most of my time and effort to my students. That was us.
To be completely honest, we hit a very tough time in our marriage about year 4. There were moments where I questioned what in the world I was doing! What had I gotten myself into? If you think about it, most people don't even date very long, so when you get a few years in, it's really like, "Uh-oh! I am really deep into this thing and there is no going back!" But you learn that love is a choice. I also realized that if I wanted to keep my marriage on the right track, I had to fight like crazy for it. There are constant attacks to try and destroy what you have built.
Later, kids come into the picture. It's a totally new ball game. That's when you realize you should have been investing more time in your marriage back in the day, before they came along! (There are days that I can't figure out what we did before we had kids! We must have been extremely lazy.) Time together alone lessens with each new addition. You wonder when you will ever sleep together again, much less get to "cuddle." Communicating with each other often consists of words that you would never have said to each other before. For instance, our conversations now include words like "pooped on my back" and "trucks in my hair." Romantic dinners consist of four men at the dining room table dressed in suits with big smiles. Don't get me wrong, it's an amazing family life, but our couple time is limited. This is us.
Tomorrow (May 10th) will mark our 14th anniversary. Saying that out loud blows my mind. We have been on this journey for 14 years (well longer if you count how long we dated). Have I loved him every single day? No. Has he lived up to every single expectation? No. Has he ever made me so mad I wanted to pack up and go home? Yes. Have I ever wanted to give up? Yes. I think anyone who answers those questions differently at any stage of marriage is lying. We are human and love is a choice. We don't always make the right choices. I wish I could answer those questions differently, but I am human, and heaven help me, I am a woman.
As we celebrate 14 years, I wanted to share a few things that Anthony does to make us who we are. He is a godly man who makes mistakes and owns up to them. He tells me what I need to hear, even when I don't want to hear it (or I think he's wrong). He supports me even when I feel like a complete failure. He loves his children and he leads by example. He works hard at his job even when the reward may not be what he deserves. He loves people and has a heart the size of Texas. All of these things and more are what he does to make us the couple that you see in front of you every day. Yeah we may be frazzled, late, and have one child that is only wearing one shoe, or might be pulling his pants down in public, but we are together, happy, and working hard to be what God wants us to be. This is us, and I couldn't be more grateful.
Anthony gets up first and reads his Bible and drinks a ridiculous amount of coffee. It's one cup. It's a rather large cup, but it's one cup. My alarm goes off right before he gets into the shower and I drag myself out of the bed. (I would like to add here that I recently have been getting up and doing my personal quiet time while he is in another room doing his. I have been horrible about this as I have become less of a morning person since the homeschool adventure with all the kids started.) We get dressed and right before I wake up the kids, I get a quick "I love you!," a kiss, and he's out the door headed to work. We see each other (usually) at lunch time. We have an hour to catch up on the day so far and for me to unload to him about how rough my part of the day has been. Once again, he's out the door. He comes home about 5:30pm and he hits the kitchen while I work. We sit and eat. We typically do some kind of needed chore or run around with the kids for a bit and then hit the sack. Wasn't that the perfect day you dreamed about when you thought about getting married?
This is us, day in and day out. Some days we throw in a baseball or basketball game, church, time with extended family, or my not so favorite trip--Wal-mart. But for the most part, this is us.
When you are considering marriage as young adults, it seems so romantic and blissful. We were married straight out of college (literally in between semesters of our graduate program). I remember all the high hopes and great expectations I had walking into the whole situation. They all came crashing into reality the day we were married. I am not lying when I say I basically had a panic attack leaving the church on our way to our honeymoon. Everything hit me like a brick wall as I sat in the car next to this man I had just married, and the tears just came. I had left everything I had ever known behind at the church--everyone having a fantastic time, enjoying life, and eating my cake. Of course, Anthony was totally taken aback as I lost it for about 30 minutes or so. He may have been nervous that day, but he wasn't at all thinking about the past. He seemed totally ready for the future. That was us.
As time went on, I realized just how hard married life really is. I worked incredibly crazy hours at a job that was over 30 minutes away from him. Work was a big deal for both of us and we wanted to be the best we could. It's amazing how much that took a toll on our marriage. I look back now and I am ashamed that I put our relationship on the back burner during that crucial time. The first five years of marriage are insane. I don't think anyone ever really said that to us out loud. I think people hinted at it, but never said it straight out. I am saying it loud and clear. THE FIRST FIVE YEARS ARE CRAZY HARD. If you are reading this and you are in those years, definitely take time to get to know your spouse. Invest in your relationship because so many things come along after those first five years that you will never find the time to do it later. In those first years you learn so much about each other. Not just likes and dislikes, but hopes, dreams, preferences, secrets, etc. Looking back, I feel like I knew more about the lives of my students than I did about Anthony's. It wasn't because I cared for him less, I just gave most of my time and effort to my students. That was us.
To be completely honest, we hit a very tough time in our marriage about year 4. There were moments where I questioned what in the world I was doing! What had I gotten myself into? If you think about it, most people don't even date very long, so when you get a few years in, it's really like, "Uh-oh! I am really deep into this thing and there is no going back!" But you learn that love is a choice. I also realized that if I wanted to keep my marriage on the right track, I had to fight like crazy for it. There are constant attacks to try and destroy what you have built.
Later, kids come into the picture. It's a totally new ball game. That's when you realize you should have been investing more time in your marriage back in the day, before they came along! (There are days that I can't figure out what we did before we had kids! We must have been extremely lazy.) Time together alone lessens with each new addition. You wonder when you will ever sleep together again, much less get to "cuddle." Communicating with each other often consists of words that you would never have said to each other before. For instance, our conversations now include words like "pooped on my back" and "trucks in my hair." Romantic dinners consist of four men at the dining room table dressed in suits with big smiles. Don't get me wrong, it's an amazing family life, but our couple time is limited. This is us.
Tomorrow (May 10th) will mark our 14th anniversary. Saying that out loud blows my mind. We have been on this journey for 14 years (well longer if you count how long we dated). Have I loved him every single day? No. Has he lived up to every single expectation? No. Has he ever made me so mad I wanted to pack up and go home? Yes. Have I ever wanted to give up? Yes. I think anyone who answers those questions differently at any stage of marriage is lying. We are human and love is a choice. We don't always make the right choices. I wish I could answer those questions differently, but I am human, and heaven help me, I am a woman.
As we celebrate 14 years, I wanted to share a few things that Anthony does to make us who we are. He is a godly man who makes mistakes and owns up to them. He tells me what I need to hear, even when I don't want to hear it (or I think he's wrong). He supports me even when I feel like a complete failure. He loves his children and he leads by example. He works hard at his job even when the reward may not be what he deserves. He loves people and has a heart the size of Texas. All of these things and more are what he does to make us the couple that you see in front of you every day. Yeah we may be frazzled, late, and have one child that is only wearing one shoe, or might be pulling his pants down in public, but we are together, happy, and working hard to be what God wants us to be. This is us, and I couldn't be more grateful.
Thursday, May 4, 2017
I guess they do grow up, don't they.
If you have read much of what we write or if you have watched our Facebook Live sessions, you know that we think parenting is a really hard thing to do. I remember sometime after TJ was born all of a sudden at one point having the weight of the responsibility hit me. Our parenting has eternal consequences. We are responsible for the soul of another human being. That is a tremendous amount of pressure! And now we have three of them.
TJ turned 10 years old recently. With him reaching the teenage years, it has caused me to think a lot about my role in his life and how we teach him to grow to be a man. I don't feel successful as a father in a lot of ways, like I should be spending more one-on-one time with him and really teaching him how to do life the right way. To be honest, Jen teaches him a lot. She's home with him every day and has been for a few years. She takes the time to play sports with him and those types of things. I think it is good that he is learning from her in some ways, but I know there is pressure on me to be influential in certain areas. I also know that she wants to me to "step up" more in meeting this need.
TJ played soccer for a few seasons when he was 4-6 I think. Jen and I both hate soccer, and we were so relieved when he decided not to play anymore. But we have always been careful not to pressure him to do too many things he wasn't really interested in. He said he was interested in engineering, or maybe we just assumed that, so he took a bunch of engineering classes. He had not played any more sports until recently. Reilly played basketball in the fall, and TJ started talking about it a little, but 10 years old is a little late by today's standards to start playing a sport.
One day we were at Academy Sports in Gainesville and found a great deal on some basketball shoes his size. He kind of decided then he might give basketball a try. He had never been interested in it at all before. I told him if we bought the shoes that meant he was playing, and he said okay. Fast forward to the "player evaluations" that took place a couple of months ago. He went in and came out after a few minutes and I met him away from other people at which time he said, "Well, I stunk." (Actually, he said, "Well, I sucked" but we don't like that word in our house and so I didn't want to write it.)
It broke my heart, but it was a big deal that he was even trying and I was already so proud. It was way out of his comfort zone. He doesn't like to look silly, and I'm pretty sure he felt silly out there. His team practiced a few times, and he was lost and felt out of place. To be honest he couldn't even really catch a ball, let alone dribble to the basket and shoot a layup. It was so hard for me to watch, and I wanted to go help him, but I had to let him grow on his own in that setting.
After several practices, they had their first game. He was still lost, but he was getting better little by little. Then it seemed like a switch flipped inside him. All of a sudden, we didn't have to force him to go outside and practice. He wanted to do it on his own, and he did, and it helped that Jen was able to work with him. Since then he has had a few more games, and he, by some miracle, has developed somewhat of a passion for it.
Most of you know that I love basketball, and Jen loves it too. We both experienced the personal growth and gained so much value from playing the sport all the way through college and then coaching after that. So we would love for all our kids to be passionate about basketball, but we are okay if it's not basketball. We just want them to be passionate about SOMETHING. TJ has always been passionate about reading, and history, and video games. But never in a million years did we think he would develop any kind of desire to be good at, and win in, basketball. That day has come. Even if it is short-lived, we are so proud that he is trying and practicing to be better. He has a long way to go, but in the game tonight he got a couple steals, forced a couple turnovers, got a couple rebounds, dribbled (!), attempted several shots, and got more involved. So I need to spend more time helping him develop and improve.
The other night TJ and Reilly and Jen were playing 21 and I was about to head out to play some hoops myself. TJ was making it very difficult for Reilly to do anything, and at one point I grabbed TJ's arm and yanked him away to let Reilly have a chance to shoot. TJ immediately started crying and ran to his mom and sobbed. We were just messing around, but later I asked him why he was so upset. He explained that his 35-year-old dad grabbed his arm and pulled him away when he was about to get the ball and go make an easy shot when he only had one point and his mom had a lot more. It was partly that he wanted to beat his mom, and it was partly that I treated him like a little kid that made him so upset. I realized at that moment that all of a sudden, he really needs me to respect him in a more "grown-up" way. He needs me to treat him not so much like a little rag doll that I can throw around. He needs to know that I now see him as more than just a little kid. The next night he came inside bawling because he was so close to beating his mom in 21. I explained to him that it would never happen, so to not get so upset about it. :)
At the Christmas program at church, there were some fairly long stretches where most of the kids sat on stage and watched the program play out. TJ was acting like a crazy person. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating to say he looked like a lunatic. He was hitting Reilly in the back of the head. He was seemingly making fun of other kids who were telling him to be quiet. It was insane. It was so unlike him. I was so frustrated and getting so upset that almost wanted to walk on stage and grab him by the arm to drag him off. Really I was torn between doing that or walking out of the sanctuary. I kept my composure. Maybe no one else noticed, but I was boiling. After the program was over, we realized he was acting like an idiot because he was trying to impress a girl he was sitting next to on stage.
So at this point in his life, we have a young man who is experiencing these emotions and feelings and thoughts that I know are really difficult for him to process and understand. I need to be there to put my arm around his shoulder and explain that life is going to be hard to figure out sometimes. He needs to know that girls in school or at church can cause boys to do some pretty stupid things. (I'm pretty sure at the beach one time when I was in middle school I tried to do a backflip in about a foot of water trying to impress some girls. I did about half of a backflip and landed on my head. My neck still hurts. I'm not sure if the girls were impressed.) He also needs to learn that girls don't always have his best interest in mind, whether he is talking to them in person or they go to his school or they are on the screen of his phone or tablet or computer. He needs to learn that from me.
He also needs to learn that women are to be respected, and that starts at home with his mom. I need to model that for him. Sometimes I do a good job, but sometimes I don't. Sometimes in cases that he has a disrespectful tone with her, I don't punish him when I should. He also needs to learn that is good to love your wife, and it's good to hug and kiss her and show affection in the home. I think I do a pretty good job with that one.
At times I tend to be passive in my teaching (Jen is rolling her eyes right now because she thinks I'm too passive with everything). But what I mean is I like to try to model the right behavior in front of the boys instead of teaching it. Someone once said, "More is caught than taught." That has to be true in some cases. Even when I played basketball I led more by example than I did ordering people around. That's not my style. I try to demonstrate that reading my Bible is something that is important to us and that God is to be honored in our household. However, I should probably be more proactive in having devotional time with the boys and more intentional about spending time with them doing specific things. That's an area I need to improve.
Raising kids is hard. I don't want to be the reason that my boys grow up to be less than the men they should be. It's time to step up to the plate and take ownership of what is mostly my role in the household.
TJ turned 10 years old recently. With him reaching the teenage years, it has caused me to think a lot about my role in his life and how we teach him to grow to be a man. I don't feel successful as a father in a lot of ways, like I should be spending more one-on-one time with him and really teaching him how to do life the right way. To be honest, Jen teaches him a lot. She's home with him every day and has been for a few years. She takes the time to play sports with him and those types of things. I think it is good that he is learning from her in some ways, but I know there is pressure on me to be influential in certain areas. I also know that she wants to me to "step up" more in meeting this need.
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| Update Fall 2018: TJ made the Middle School Tennis Team! |
TJ played soccer for a few seasons when he was 4-6 I think. Jen and I both hate soccer, and we were so relieved when he decided not to play anymore. But we have always been careful not to pressure him to do too many things he wasn't really interested in. He said he was interested in engineering, or maybe we just assumed that, so he took a bunch of engineering classes. He had not played any more sports until recently. Reilly played basketball in the fall, and TJ started talking about it a little, but 10 years old is a little late by today's standards to start playing a sport.
One day we were at Academy Sports in Gainesville and found a great deal on some basketball shoes his size. He kind of decided then he might give basketball a try. He had never been interested in it at all before. I told him if we bought the shoes that meant he was playing, and he said okay. Fast forward to the "player evaluations" that took place a couple of months ago. He went in and came out after a few minutes and I met him away from other people at which time he said, "Well, I stunk." (Actually, he said, "Well, I sucked" but we don't like that word in our house and so I didn't want to write it.)
It broke my heart, but it was a big deal that he was even trying and I was already so proud. It was way out of his comfort zone. He doesn't like to look silly, and I'm pretty sure he felt silly out there. His team practiced a few times, and he was lost and felt out of place. To be honest he couldn't even really catch a ball, let alone dribble to the basket and shoot a layup. It was so hard for me to watch, and I wanted to go help him, but I had to let him grow on his own in that setting.
After several practices, they had their first game. He was still lost, but he was getting better little by little. Then it seemed like a switch flipped inside him. All of a sudden, we didn't have to force him to go outside and practice. He wanted to do it on his own, and he did, and it helped that Jen was able to work with him. Since then he has had a few more games, and he, by some miracle, has developed somewhat of a passion for it.
Most of you know that I love basketball, and Jen loves it too. We both experienced the personal growth and gained so much value from playing the sport all the way through college and then coaching after that. So we would love for all our kids to be passionate about basketball, but we are okay if it's not basketball. We just want them to be passionate about SOMETHING. TJ has always been passionate about reading, and history, and video games. But never in a million years did we think he would develop any kind of desire to be good at, and win in, basketball. That day has come. Even if it is short-lived, we are so proud that he is trying and practicing to be better. He has a long way to go, but in the game tonight he got a couple steals, forced a couple turnovers, got a couple rebounds, dribbled (!), attempted several shots, and got more involved. So I need to spend more time helping him develop and improve.
The other night TJ and Reilly and Jen were playing 21 and I was about to head out to play some hoops myself. TJ was making it very difficult for Reilly to do anything, and at one point I grabbed TJ's arm and yanked him away to let Reilly have a chance to shoot. TJ immediately started crying and ran to his mom and sobbed. We were just messing around, but later I asked him why he was so upset. He explained that his 35-year-old dad grabbed his arm and pulled him away when he was about to get the ball and go make an easy shot when he only had one point and his mom had a lot more. It was partly that he wanted to beat his mom, and it was partly that I treated him like a little kid that made him so upset. I realized at that moment that all of a sudden, he really needs me to respect him in a more "grown-up" way. He needs me to treat him not so much like a little rag doll that I can throw around. He needs to know that I now see him as more than just a little kid. The next night he came inside bawling because he was so close to beating his mom in 21. I explained to him that it would never happen, so to not get so upset about it. :)
At the Christmas program at church, there were some fairly long stretches where most of the kids sat on stage and watched the program play out. TJ was acting like a crazy person. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating to say he looked like a lunatic. He was hitting Reilly in the back of the head. He was seemingly making fun of other kids who were telling him to be quiet. It was insane. It was so unlike him. I was so frustrated and getting so upset that almost wanted to walk on stage and grab him by the arm to drag him off. Really I was torn between doing that or walking out of the sanctuary. I kept my composure. Maybe no one else noticed, but I was boiling. After the program was over, we realized he was acting like an idiot because he was trying to impress a girl he was sitting next to on stage.
So at this point in his life, we have a young man who is experiencing these emotions and feelings and thoughts that I know are really difficult for him to process and understand. I need to be there to put my arm around his shoulder and explain that life is going to be hard to figure out sometimes. He needs to know that girls in school or at church can cause boys to do some pretty stupid things. (I'm pretty sure at the beach one time when I was in middle school I tried to do a backflip in about a foot of water trying to impress some girls. I did about half of a backflip and landed on my head. My neck still hurts. I'm not sure if the girls were impressed.) He also needs to learn that girls don't always have his best interest in mind, whether he is talking to them in person or they go to his school or they are on the screen of his phone or tablet or computer. He needs to learn that from me.
He also needs to learn that women are to be respected, and that starts at home with his mom. I need to model that for him. Sometimes I do a good job, but sometimes I don't. Sometimes in cases that he has a disrespectful tone with her, I don't punish him when I should. He also needs to learn that is good to love your wife, and it's good to hug and kiss her and show affection in the home. I think I do a pretty good job with that one.
At times I tend to be passive in my teaching (Jen is rolling her eyes right now because she thinks I'm too passive with everything). But what I mean is I like to try to model the right behavior in front of the boys instead of teaching it. Someone once said, "More is caught than taught." That has to be true in some cases. Even when I played basketball I led more by example than I did ordering people around. That's not my style. I try to demonstrate that reading my Bible is something that is important to us and that God is to be honored in our household. However, I should probably be more proactive in having devotional time with the boys and more intentional about spending time with them doing specific things. That's an area I need to improve.
Raising kids is hard. I don't want to be the reason that my boys grow up to be less than the men they should be. It's time to step up to the plate and take ownership of what is mostly my role in the household.
Wednesday, April 5, 2017
Learning to Put on My Big Girl Panties
Have you ever felt like everything you touched was ruined? Sort of like King Midas, but way, way worse? That has been my week in a nutshell. If I was involved with it, it felt like it fell apart. I really began to think God was mad at me.
As some of you have already heard, someone took my money pouch on Saturday with all my session fees for Easter Minis. I was devastated. I can't tell you how tired I was and how hard I worked to get all that together. In my mind, God was punishing me. I was spending too much time doing things like that and not enough time with my kids. I wasn't a good enough mom. I worried too much about money and some upcoming expenses we had coming up. I didn't trust Him enough to take care of us, so this was His way of saying I should be better at trusting Him.
All through the night Saturday, I woke up with panic attacks. My poor husband finally about shook me and said, "You have to let this go!" I think the poor guy just needed sleep. I punched a few walls, screamed on my knees at the ceiling, kicked one of my Easter totes, and bawled like a baby. I felt like my insides were turning inside out.
I have questioned God about a thousand times. I know some of you are thinking, "It was just money." It was just money, but to me, it was more than that. It was about working toward a goal I had set in my mind. It was about trying to keep to our debt free goal. It was about contributing to the family and helping keep us on track. It was about security.
For those of you who know me fairly well, I am a pretty self-confident person. When it comes to being me and who I am as a person, I am confident in that. I have been for quite some time. I don't care if you don't like how I dress or that I speak my mind. However, when it comes to stability in my life and consistency, I kind of fall apart. For instance, for years I stressed over Christmas. Putting things on a credit card and having enough to purchase what we needed drove me crazy. I love Christmas and it is important to me. Anthony and I came up with a plan that each year we would take some of our tax return and create a Christmas account. That way, I could purchase all through the year when the prices were good and I could always know how much was left in the budget. Christmas was safe.
I am also kind of a crazy scrooge when it comes to money as well. Letting go of money to purchase things--even if we need it--is hard for me. (You should be a fly on the wall in some of our family discussions.) Well, I take that back. If it's for the kids it's not as difficult. As many of you saw, we visited Disney for five days earlier in the month. I literally saved from 2011 until this year for us to go on that trip. At the time, I was also saving to build myself a storage closet for props, new equipment and more. The Disney saving usually took a backseat to things we needed more, hence why it took me so long. In my mind, I even wondered if God was punishing me for wasting money on that trip. Maybe He thought I could have put it to better use?
Once I came to grips with losing the money, I realized something else had happened the day it went missing. On Sunday, I had a regularly planned session with a wonderful family with whom I have shot several times. I know them and am completely at ease with them. We had planned to meet in a parking lot of a restaurant. While I was waiting on them, I felt anxious. I felt like I needed to be aware of my surroundings. And by all means, I needed to keep my windows up and my doors locked. As most of you know Sunday was beautiful and I was pretty sweaty in the car with the windows up. The same feeling started to surface on Tuesday when I went to shoot a set of school portraits for a local preschool. There were workers milling around working on the buildings and I found myself constantly looking over at my car where I had strategically hid my purse under the 5,000 jackets that I found in the floorboard.
I felt scared. I felt panicky. Even though in both situations I knew I was going to be in the presence of people I felt comfortable with, I felt uneasy.
About seven months ago, I had my car broken into. I felt violated and angry. I felt the same uneasiness and anxiety that I feel now. It took me months to get comfortable. I don't want it to be like that again. I hate being scared and uneasy. My anxiety already causes a good bit of that anyhow, but having to deal with events that push it to the limits, it makes me very tired.
The hits kept on coming this weekend. After getting hardly any sleep and feeling like I had been hit by a truck, on Sunday I wake up to the sound of someone vomiting in the floor. Poor Jase stood there outside my bedroom door with his little puke puddle. I have to admit, I looked at the ceiling and said out loud, "Do you hate me? Am I really that bad of a person?" Luckily, we came to realize that it was most likely drainage from his allergies which the poor kid has been fighting for weeks now it seems. However, I still felt like I couldn't catch a break.
Monday, my dog walks into my office and pees on the rug. Tuesday, I didn't bring something I needed to a session. Today, I realized I emailed someone the wrong thing and my computer starts acting like it's on the blink. I have to admit, through all this, I kept asking God what it was that I had done that had offended Him so much that I needed to suffer through all this.
As I sit here tonight writing all of this, I am reading one of my Dad's texts to me from Monday.
You might be thinking like I was at first--What do I really have to be thankful for right now? To be honest, I wasn't grateful for one stinking thing when I lost it over realizing the bag was gone. But after getting that text, I have tried to put things in perspective and be grateful. In both situations where I have lost something, I have never been personally attacked. I haven't be forced at gunpoint to give up something. No one has physically harmed me. In both situations, not one piece of my camera equipment was touched. (Apparently, God thinks I should keep doing this as a job.) I still have a way to continue providing for my family with that in my possession. None of my clients were harmed and the sweet goats were just fine. My master schedule which has every date I have booked logged, was recovered from the grass. (It was attached to my money bag.) I could have had to dig through hundreds of emails and messages to recover all of that information--talk about time consuming. As I have sat down to count my blessings, the list gets a little longer.
So am I still angry and questioning God? Still asking questions, yes, but angry, no. To be honest, if I am being punished by anybody, it's probably Satan and his buddies. Anthony and I have been really trying to use this blog and our videos on Friday nights to encourage others and lift the spirits of our friends and family. I have found that when you are doing something positive, that's generally when things gets tough. Satan doesn't want us to continue to be an encouragement. And if that's true, what's the best way to shut us up? Hand out some really crappy times and situations. Maybe that's why God allowed all of this to happen. Maybe that's the lesson I needed to learn. It could be that my dad is right and that there are people out there who need to hear that I have been struggling with these events and that I am fighting to get over it. And I will get over it with the help of a loving heavenly Father.
Before I close, I do want to say thank you to every person who has called to say something kind, stopped by to give me a hug, emailed a word of encouragement, or who has offered to help in any way. I know I say this a lot, but I have some of the best clients in the whole entire world. You guys are more than clients--you are my friends. You have shown me that you care about my mental health and my family. Each of your families are blessings I counted when I sat down to reevaluate my situation. If I ever get the opportunity to do the same for you, you better believe I will.
As some of you have already heard, someone took my money pouch on Saturday with all my session fees for Easter Minis. I was devastated. I can't tell you how tired I was and how hard I worked to get all that together. In my mind, God was punishing me. I was spending too much time doing things like that and not enough time with my kids. I wasn't a good enough mom. I worried too much about money and some upcoming expenses we had coming up. I didn't trust Him enough to take care of us, so this was His way of saying I should be better at trusting Him.
All through the night Saturday, I woke up with panic attacks. My poor husband finally about shook me and said, "You have to let this go!" I think the poor guy just needed sleep. I punched a few walls, screamed on my knees at the ceiling, kicked one of my Easter totes, and bawled like a baby. I felt like my insides were turning inside out.
I have questioned God about a thousand times. I know some of you are thinking, "It was just money." It was just money, but to me, it was more than that. It was about working toward a goal I had set in my mind. It was about trying to keep to our debt free goal. It was about contributing to the family and helping keep us on track. It was about security.
For those of you who know me fairly well, I am a pretty self-confident person. When it comes to being me and who I am as a person, I am confident in that. I have been for quite some time. I don't care if you don't like how I dress or that I speak my mind. However, when it comes to stability in my life and consistency, I kind of fall apart. For instance, for years I stressed over Christmas. Putting things on a credit card and having enough to purchase what we needed drove me crazy. I love Christmas and it is important to me. Anthony and I came up with a plan that each year we would take some of our tax return and create a Christmas account. That way, I could purchase all through the year when the prices were good and I could always know how much was left in the budget. Christmas was safe.
I am also kind of a crazy scrooge when it comes to money as well. Letting go of money to purchase things--even if we need it--is hard for me. (You should be a fly on the wall in some of our family discussions.) Well, I take that back. If it's for the kids it's not as difficult. As many of you saw, we visited Disney for five days earlier in the month. I literally saved from 2011 until this year for us to go on that trip. At the time, I was also saving to build myself a storage closet for props, new equipment and more. The Disney saving usually took a backseat to things we needed more, hence why it took me so long. In my mind, I even wondered if God was punishing me for wasting money on that trip. Maybe He thought I could have put it to better use?
Once I came to grips with losing the money, I realized something else had happened the day it went missing. On Sunday, I had a regularly planned session with a wonderful family with whom I have shot several times. I know them and am completely at ease with them. We had planned to meet in a parking lot of a restaurant. While I was waiting on them, I felt anxious. I felt like I needed to be aware of my surroundings. And by all means, I needed to keep my windows up and my doors locked. As most of you know Sunday was beautiful and I was pretty sweaty in the car with the windows up. The same feeling started to surface on Tuesday when I went to shoot a set of school portraits for a local preschool. There were workers milling around working on the buildings and I found myself constantly looking over at my car where I had strategically hid my purse under the 5,000 jackets that I found in the floorboard.
I felt scared. I felt panicky. Even though in both situations I knew I was going to be in the presence of people I felt comfortable with, I felt uneasy.
About seven months ago, I had my car broken into. I felt violated and angry. I felt the same uneasiness and anxiety that I feel now. It took me months to get comfortable. I don't want it to be like that again. I hate being scared and uneasy. My anxiety already causes a good bit of that anyhow, but having to deal with events that push it to the limits, it makes me very tired.
The hits kept on coming this weekend. After getting hardly any sleep and feeling like I had been hit by a truck, on Sunday I wake up to the sound of someone vomiting in the floor. Poor Jase stood there outside my bedroom door with his little puke puddle. I have to admit, I looked at the ceiling and said out loud, "Do you hate me? Am I really that bad of a person?" Luckily, we came to realize that it was most likely drainage from his allergies which the poor kid has been fighting for weeks now it seems. However, I still felt like I couldn't catch a break.
Monday, my dog walks into my office and pees on the rug. Tuesday, I didn't bring something I needed to a session. Today, I realized I emailed someone the wrong thing and my computer starts acting like it's on the blink. I have to admit, through all this, I kept asking God what it was that I had done that had offended Him so much that I needed to suffer through all this.
As I sit here tonight writing all of this, I am reading one of my Dad's texts to me from Monday.
".....I can say without reservation GOD does love YOU and has blessed you bountifully. God did not cause this but allowed it. What you have to focus on is what is he teaching me as an individual, as a parent, as a friend. There will be more to come. Navigate through this. Learn what you can, that way you can be a better help to someone else because of it."Ouch. So yes, apparently I need to put my big girl panties on and learn from what I am going through. In the end, if it helps me help someone else one day, shouldn't I be okay with that? I have always thought my parents were wise, but this one really hit home for me. I have been so focused on God punishing me that I hadn't focused on what blessings I had! Suddenly, that plaque that my grandma has hanging in her bathroom about the footsteps in the sand really made sense. This weekend, God was carrying me because I wasn't walking along in my own strength. My strength was gone.
You might be thinking like I was at first--What do I really have to be thankful for right now? To be honest, I wasn't grateful for one stinking thing when I lost it over realizing the bag was gone. But after getting that text, I have tried to put things in perspective and be grateful. In both situations where I have lost something, I have never been personally attacked. I haven't be forced at gunpoint to give up something. No one has physically harmed me. In both situations, not one piece of my camera equipment was touched. (Apparently, God thinks I should keep doing this as a job.) I still have a way to continue providing for my family with that in my possession. None of my clients were harmed and the sweet goats were just fine. My master schedule which has every date I have booked logged, was recovered from the grass. (It was attached to my money bag.) I could have had to dig through hundreds of emails and messages to recover all of that information--talk about time consuming. As I have sat down to count my blessings, the list gets a little longer.
So am I still angry and questioning God? Still asking questions, yes, but angry, no. To be honest, if I am being punished by anybody, it's probably Satan and his buddies. Anthony and I have been really trying to use this blog and our videos on Friday nights to encourage others and lift the spirits of our friends and family. I have found that when you are doing something positive, that's generally when things gets tough. Satan doesn't want us to continue to be an encouragement. And if that's true, what's the best way to shut us up? Hand out some really crappy times and situations. Maybe that's why God allowed all of this to happen. Maybe that's the lesson I needed to learn. It could be that my dad is right and that there are people out there who need to hear that I have been struggling with these events and that I am fighting to get over it. And I will get over it with the help of a loving heavenly Father.
Before I close, I do want to say thank you to every person who has called to say something kind, stopped by to give me a hug, emailed a word of encouragement, or who has offered to help in any way. I know I say this a lot, but I have some of the best clients in the whole entire world. You guys are more than clients--you are my friends. You have shown me that you care about my mental health and my family. Each of your families are blessings I counted when I sat down to reevaluate my situation. If I ever get the opportunity to do the same for you, you better believe I will.
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Show me the money!
I have a problem. That's the first step to beating the problem, right? You have to admit it, or acknowledge it. At least I've made it that far. My problem is this...I let my job play a large part in my self-perception. To put it another way, my work to a significant degree is where I find my worth. I don't like it. I don't want it to be that way, but it is that way. And I don't think I'm alone.
I think to be more specific, I should say that it's not so much my job or my work generally. It is what I get paid for doing the aforementioned work. For whatever reason, I feel like my worth is directly related to how many numbers are on my paycheck. I'm guessing it's that way for a lot of men out there. It may be that way for women too, but I don't think is quite as prevalent in that way.
Many men feel like making money and providing for our families is what we are responsible for. It's why we're here. I can't help but think about comparisons. It's not right, and it leads to jealousy and, really, covetousness. Those are not positive things. But, here's the honest truth coming, I sometimes feel like less of a man since I don't make as much as the next guy.
The truth is, I don't even know how much money you make! I make assumptions, and I think they're pretty accurate. Whether they are or not, it doesn't really matter. Surely I'm not the only one thinking this way. The truth is, it's tough for me sometimes to talk to other guys about things related to finances, because I can't help but feel an inadequacy when I know they make more money than me.
Don't get me wrong...I feel appreciated at my job. It hasn't always been that way, but it is now. And it's important to feel appreciated and valued in your work. This is especially true when your Love Language is Words of Affirmation. I have a very stable job that I actually really enjoy, and it's not like I make pennies. The benefits are pretty good, and I've been there for almost 14 years. That's a long time! I've never had a full-time job with another company or organization. But I always want to make more money. Don't we all? Sometimes I get down when I think about it, and my wife isn't a big fan of that.
What I should really find my worth in is Christ. I know that. He paid the debt for my sins, and nothing good in my life is here without Him. Every breath I breathe, every smile I see, every dollar I make, every bite of food I eat, every hug from my wife or kids is a blessing from God. I know that. I know I am blessed beyond measure, and I am so thankful. But I still feel like I fall short of expectations.
I should find worth in the family that I have that loves me so much. I can't imagine being more fortunate than I am in so many ways. My wife is amazing, incredible, and truly just what I need. My kids make me smile and give me purpose. I work as hard as I do for them. I want them to be blessed, and feel loved, and feel special. But no matter how much time I spend with them and invest in their lives, I often attribute more value to the paycheck that I bring home (Well, the voided paycheck. Does anyone not use direct deposit these days?)
I don't think there's just one reason why this is the case. There's no way to pinpoint a root cause. Nevertheless, I'm going to try to identify some of the reasons I think this is the case for me. Maybe it's the same or different for you.
One reason is that it's how our economy works. In our culture, the more valuable you are to your employer the more you're supposed to get paid. I messed up in one regard by working for a nonprofit organization. It's not like banking or finance or commission sales. There aren't bonuses for good performance or saving the company money or bringing in extra revenue. And our culture says the more valuable you are in the marketplace the more money you will make.
Another reason is that our family is trying to live the debt-free lifestyle. Borrower is slave to the lender. You've read that from me before. I don't want to be a slave. But is it possible that all that is for those who have at least at $100k household income? I just made up a number. Doesn't matter what it is as long as it's bigger than ours. How can we buy the car we want or need with cash that doesn't already have 100k miles on it if we don't have the income to do it? See. My fault. I should be making more money. So I listen to the Dave Ramsey show all the time and hear over and over again not to borrow money on a stupid car that goes down in value. So I feel like a failure because I can't make that happen.
Some people reading this might think I should just go get another job where I make more money. If I'm so valuable as an employee, surely I could go make more in the marketplace. If I was reading this, I might say the same thing. But there are reasons I don't. There are some great things about my job. I live less than 10 minutes from work. My wife loves that I get to come home for lunch pretty much every day, and so do I. I rarely have to work many extra hours (except when we are up for re-accreditation and I get an email from my boss at 4:45 PM that the review committee wants a bunch of data that needs to be compiled and analyzed and then presented the next morning at 8:30...David McMillion and I along with others made it happen). What's more is that there's a reason I am where I am, I believe. So maybe this is a form of a sacrifice I make in order to invest more time with my family and finish the work that I started 14 years ago.
I think another reason is that I want my wife to be proud. It probably doesn't change her perception of me. But apparently part of me thinks it would help.
That's all I can come up with as far as justifications for my thoughts, and those were of varying levels of legitimacy. I don't really know why I feel this way. It's something that I dwell on at times, and it's not good. This is not the best version of me. God is good, no matter what my salary is. My God is Jehovah Jireh, and He will sustain me and my family. I know that, in my mind and in my heart. But something keeps me focused on the wrong thing.
I approach my work with a Colossians 3:23 mentality, and that's where it's at. That's where the reward is. May God grant me, and whoever else may be reading this and feeling and thinking the same things, the focus and diligence to set our minds on things above and not of this world. Those things are worth dwelling on. And may I every day place great importance on how those closest to me view my efforts. They will tell me the truth, and their love is of immeasurable value.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Closing the Chapter on Baby Making
I have never been good with change. I enjoy consistency and stability. Anthony will be the first to tell you that this is a pretty big issue with me. If you really want to see an example of this in action, take me out to eat. Rarely will I order something different than what I normally order. I almost feel like it's a waste of my money to try something new because there is always the possibility that I won't like it. What good is that?
Food is not the only part of my life in which I stay pretty consistent. Big life changes are difficult for me too. I hate closing the door on things--especially if it's by my own choice. Leaving teaching and coaching was one of the most difficult decisions I ever made. Letting go of that was heart wrenching. I know now that I made the right decision for our family, but it still stings at times.
With every change, I feel that door closing and it's like all the oxygen in the room is being sucked out at the same time. What if I made the wrong decision? What if something bad happens because of this change? Could I ever change back? So many questions, not enough sleep.
You can imagine what it was like for me when we decided we were done having children. I don't know about you, but after every delivery, I felt done. At some point, I will have to share each of the boys' birth stories. There are some hilarious and scary moments all wrapped up into each one. Even though I knew in my heart I wasn't really done, that's what labor does to you. You don't generally walk out with the feeling of, "Oh, yes! Let's do this all over again!" Around the age of two, I would start to feel the longing for the next little one in my heart and in my arms.
If you have read any of our previous blogs, you know that we had a failed pregnancy between Reilly and Jase. It was a tough experience for me and my heart is still healing. I also talked a little bit about how tough my pregnancy with Jase was on my body. After both of those experiences, I knew in my heart, that I was satisfied. I didn't need a baby girl to make our family complete. Jase was our completion. He was our perfect ending to our childbearing days.
As he grew, I felt the peace in my heart growing concerning coming to the end of this stage of my life. He has truly been the baby of the family from the moment he came into our lives. I don't think you could find a more perfect kid for the job. It was at this point that Anthony and I started to discuss what we were going to do. I wanted to make sure that he felt this chapter of our lives was coming to an end. There was no way I would have pushed my feelings on him. I wanted to be respectful and understanding of his feelings on the matter since of course, he was my partner in crime in all of this baby making. He was pretty vocal about how much he loved our babies, but also about how ready he was to start enjoying the next phase of our lives. Then the next part of the discussion started--the technical part. How would we end this journey and keep everyone's best health interests in mind? How did we each feel about what our role would be?
Luckily, I had a fantastic midwife who had already started a conversation with Anthony about what she saw as our best option and he understood that it would come down to him taking the step to finishing this part of the story. I can't thank him enough for seeing what was best for me in terms of my health. He could have thrown a fit and told me he wasn't going to do it. He could have asked me to take one for the team and go through another process that would have probably caused some havoc in my already battered body. He didn't. He did what he usually does--takes whatever burden he can from me.
I can honestly say that in the days and weeks leading up to his procedure, I was in turmoil. Every single terrible thought that can enter your head will do it. I already come up with every horrible situation that can possibly happen whenever I leave the house, drop my kids off with anyone, or walk around with scissors. This situation brought out the most horrible thoughts a mother could possibly have. What if we do this and something happens to Anthony in the process? What if he regrets it and holds it against me? What if all our kids die in a horrible car accident? What if I die and Anthony remarries and wants to have kids with someone else? (I am going to say, this was a hard one to come to grips with. The thought of him married to someone else made me madder than fire, but we have to be realistic right? I love him enough that I don't want to hurt him by taking away that option later for him if he wanted it.) What if...what if...what if??? They just kept coming.
I remember at one point, I felt almost suffocated by all the horrible thoughts swimming in my head. I never told Anthony this, but one time, during one of the very rare times I was alone in the house, I bawled my eyes out with stress and worry over the decision. What was I doing? Was I really making a choice to end this chapter of our lives completely? Couldn't we just keep on going the way we were?
The truth is I couldn't. After losing a pregnancy and struggling through the last one, I am not sure my battered mind and heart could have taken a surprise pregnancy. I worried through the last one all the way till he was in my arms after the delivery (and then it continued through those first 6 weeks of his life). If you haven't figured it out yet, I struggle with a tiny issue called anxiety. (If you can't tell I'm being sarcastic there, then you need to meet me. I am pretty sarcastic.) At times, it takes everything I have to control it. It's exhausting and energy draining. I really believe that the struggle with it is what causes me to have such a hard time with change. Consistency helps with the anxiety. But the anxiety issue is for another blog.
I'll never forget driving down to take Anthony to have the procedure done. I think I probably asked him 30 times if this was right or if he felt okay about doing it. He of course giggled through the whole car ride like a little girl because they had given him a "happy pill" to take the edge off. To be honest, I was a little jealous he got one and I didn't. When I walked him into the office, I felt like the walls were closing in and I was going to suffocate. My heart was telling me I was doing the right thing, but my mind would not shut up with the horrible thoughts. Was I really going to not have any more babies? Was this really what I wanted? I told Anthony I had to go to the restroom while we were in the waiting room and walked out as calmly as I could. Once I got out of the door of the office, I bolted to the bathroom. I can't even remember if I peed or not. I just had to get myself together.
When I walked back in, Anthony was gone. I slumped down in the chair and waited for him to finish. I remember finally praying at that point. I know Anthony and I had prayed about it before we made the final decision, but I don't remember praying about it after. I pretty much let the anxiety have its way with my mind. But in that waiting room, I got my act together. I was able to walk out of that waiting room feeling like we made the right decision and that I could breathe again.
I have had so many people ask me after it was over, "How did you know when you were done?" To be honest, there were a lot of signs for our family, but it's unique to each family. My sister-in-law, Kayla, says she knew she was done when she could hold a baby and not want one. I definitely agree with this. When you are a woman, holding a baby is a trigger. If you can hold a baby and not have this tremendous longing for your own, that's definitely a sign. I have shot with more newborns this year than I have in my whole photography career. In those moments, I hold those babies and pour out my love and kindness while I take their photos. However, there is nothing like putting that baby back in its mother's arms, walking out the door, and falling into bed that night without waking up to tears in the middle of the night. (Well.....most nights anyway.)
We all come to a point in life where we have to make a decision about moving on to a newer, sometimes scarier chapter. For some folks it might be changing jobs. Others might struggle with an empty nest. Some families deal with loss or a sickness that will change their entire dynamic. I think all change is scary at first--even if it's good. It's the possibilities of failure, something going wrong, or not being able to take it back that keep us from moving on. But we have to keep moving forward.
Today I am satisfied with our decision, and the horrible thoughts don't rear their ugly heads as much as they did before. I think our family is just right. It took talking it through with my better half and some prayer to get me to that point, but I finally made it. I just hope the chapters to come are just as joy filled as these have been.
If you have read any of our previous blogs, you know that we had a failed pregnancy between Reilly and Jase. It was a tough experience for me and my heart is still healing. I also talked a little bit about how tough my pregnancy with Jase was on my body. After both of those experiences, I knew in my heart, that I was satisfied. I didn't need a baby girl to make our family complete. Jase was our completion. He was our perfect ending to our childbearing days.
As he grew, I felt the peace in my heart growing concerning coming to the end of this stage of my life. He has truly been the baby of the family from the moment he came into our lives. I don't think you could find a more perfect kid for the job. It was at this point that Anthony and I started to discuss what we were going to do. I wanted to make sure that he felt this chapter of our lives was coming to an end. There was no way I would have pushed my feelings on him. I wanted to be respectful and understanding of his feelings on the matter since of course, he was my partner in crime in all of this baby making. He was pretty vocal about how much he loved our babies, but also about how ready he was to start enjoying the next phase of our lives. Then the next part of the discussion started--the technical part. How would we end this journey and keep everyone's best health interests in mind? How did we each feel about what our role would be?
Luckily, I had a fantastic midwife who had already started a conversation with Anthony about what she saw as our best option and he understood that it would come down to him taking the step to finishing this part of the story. I can't thank him enough for seeing what was best for me in terms of my health. He could have thrown a fit and told me he wasn't going to do it. He could have asked me to take one for the team and go through another process that would have probably caused some havoc in my already battered body. He didn't. He did what he usually does--takes whatever burden he can from me.
I can honestly say that in the days and weeks leading up to his procedure, I was in turmoil. Every single terrible thought that can enter your head will do it. I already come up with every horrible situation that can possibly happen whenever I leave the house, drop my kids off with anyone, or walk around with scissors. This situation brought out the most horrible thoughts a mother could possibly have. What if we do this and something happens to Anthony in the process? What if he regrets it and holds it against me? What if all our kids die in a horrible car accident? What if I die and Anthony remarries and wants to have kids with someone else? (I am going to say, this was a hard one to come to grips with. The thought of him married to someone else made me madder than fire, but we have to be realistic right? I love him enough that I don't want to hurt him by taking away that option later for him if he wanted it.) What if...what if...what if??? They just kept coming.
I remember at one point, I felt almost suffocated by all the horrible thoughts swimming in my head. I never told Anthony this, but one time, during one of the very rare times I was alone in the house, I bawled my eyes out with stress and worry over the decision. What was I doing? Was I really making a choice to end this chapter of our lives completely? Couldn't we just keep on going the way we were?
The truth is I couldn't. After losing a pregnancy and struggling through the last one, I am not sure my battered mind and heart could have taken a surprise pregnancy. I worried through the last one all the way till he was in my arms after the delivery (and then it continued through those first 6 weeks of his life). If you haven't figured it out yet, I struggle with a tiny issue called anxiety. (If you can't tell I'm being sarcastic there, then you need to meet me. I am pretty sarcastic.) At times, it takes everything I have to control it. It's exhausting and energy draining. I really believe that the struggle with it is what causes me to have such a hard time with change. Consistency helps with the anxiety. But the anxiety issue is for another blog.
I'll never forget driving down to take Anthony to have the procedure done. I think I probably asked him 30 times if this was right or if he felt okay about doing it. He of course giggled through the whole car ride like a little girl because they had given him a "happy pill" to take the edge off. To be honest, I was a little jealous he got one and I didn't. When I walked him into the office, I felt like the walls were closing in and I was going to suffocate. My heart was telling me I was doing the right thing, but my mind would not shut up with the horrible thoughts. Was I really going to not have any more babies? Was this really what I wanted? I told Anthony I had to go to the restroom while we were in the waiting room and walked out as calmly as I could. Once I got out of the door of the office, I bolted to the bathroom. I can't even remember if I peed or not. I just had to get myself together.
When I walked back in, Anthony was gone. I slumped down in the chair and waited for him to finish. I remember finally praying at that point. I know Anthony and I had prayed about it before we made the final decision, but I don't remember praying about it after. I pretty much let the anxiety have its way with my mind. But in that waiting room, I got my act together. I was able to walk out of that waiting room feeling like we made the right decision and that I could breathe again.
I have had so many people ask me after it was over, "How did you know when you were done?" To be honest, there were a lot of signs for our family, but it's unique to each family. My sister-in-law, Kayla, says she knew she was done when she could hold a baby and not want one. I definitely agree with this. When you are a woman, holding a baby is a trigger. If you can hold a baby and not have this tremendous longing for your own, that's definitely a sign. I have shot with more newborns this year than I have in my whole photography career. In those moments, I hold those babies and pour out my love and kindness while I take their photos. However, there is nothing like putting that baby back in its mother's arms, walking out the door, and falling into bed that night without waking up to tears in the middle of the night. (Well.....most nights anyway.)
We all come to a point in life where we have to make a decision about moving on to a newer, sometimes scarier chapter. For some folks it might be changing jobs. Others might struggle with an empty nest. Some families deal with loss or a sickness that will change their entire dynamic. I think all change is scary at first--even if it's good. It's the possibilities of failure, something going wrong, or not being able to take it back that keep us from moving on. But we have to keep moving forward.
Today I am satisfied with our decision, and the horrible thoughts don't rear their ugly heads as much as they did before. I think our family is just right. It took talking it through with my better half and some prayer to get me to that point, but I finally made it. I just hope the chapters to come are just as joy filled as these have been.
Friday, March 17, 2017
Cox Disney Vacation Day 3-7
Day 3 got off to an inauspicious (Like any real person knows what that word means!) start. It was to be our first at Disney. After checking out of our hotel at about 7:20, we loaded everything into the car and headed out to the Disney's Hollywood Studios parking lot. After parking and making our way to the line, we were ready to enter when our Magic Bands were not being accepted. We were told that since we had not already "checked in" to our vacation (I guess?) that our Magic Bands were not activated. We're still not sure how that is the case when we had used our Magic Band to pay for parking.
Nevertheless, we went over to customer service and were able to finally get our bands activated and then headed into the park. I just want to point out that we were not the only family that this happened to. If I had to give one to tip to families travelling to Disney it would be CHECK IN FIRST. There was no info given to us about this and it was never mentioned in any of the literature. We immediately went and waited in line for about 45 minutes to get the boys signed up for Jedi training. We got them signed up for an afternoon time slot and then moved on to some rides and shows.
Throughout the course of they day we were able to enjoy all the things we had hoped for. The main thing the boys wanted to do was Jedi Master Training. They had been talking about that since we told them we were going. We met Chewbacca and Kylo Ren. We ate a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant (It was fantastic!), and later we forgot we had reservations for Fantasmic as part of the dining package and missed it. Reilly did ride Tower of Terror once, but he was definitely not going to do it again. TJ was able to ride Rockin' Roller Coaster for the first time, and he loved it. For some reason, for at least three rides TJ had to poop. He would forget about it until we were just about on the ride and then it was like he would remember. Our last ride of the day was Rockin' Roller Coaster and just as we are bout to zoom off, TJ looks over at me and says, "Mom, I really have to poop." I calmly look over to him and said, "Kid, you better hold it tight." Overall it was a great first day at Disney.
Things they said...
Reilly-as we're driving to the parking lot: We have to drive through this obstacle course?
Reilly-Is that the hotel we're staying in? TJ-No. That's Tower of Terror.
Jase-As we're in the back seat of the safari ride and another safari vehicle is trailing a little way off: Dad! They're coming for you!
Jase-After he ate an entire box of popcorn and then finished a sucker: Dad, there's more popcorn in my mouth. (He had some stuck between his teeth.)
Reilly-At the end of the meal at the Italian restaurant: I think we should leave this place before I get colder.
TJ: If you lose my balloon you're going to own me $12 and a dream. This is after I told his brother that if he popped it, he would owe him $12.
Reilly: Mom, I think we are in the slow pass line.
TJ: Why do they even put this nutritional information on water? It's completely useless.
Reilly: I don't think you would even miss us is we were in prison. (This was after I told him that his dad and I were moving to Orlando to work at Disney when we were old.)
Things they did...
Chip motioned to me that I had a nice beard as I walked by.
Buzz Lightyear asked me what the PC on my hat stood for. I told him, and he just threw it at me in disgust.
Jase, waiting in line to see Kylo Ren, was repeatedly hitting a lady in the butt with his stuffed animal Stitch.
I might have waited in line to see Rapunzel. I might have also ran up to her squealing about her being my favorite princess.....maybe.
We had the characters signing autographs with a sharpie. Reilly hugged Pooh a little too hard with the sharpie between them. He had a huge mark on his face that we couldn't get off till the next day.
My husband harassed stormtroopers any chance he got. I just motioned to them to move along.
Jase almost took out Baymax. If you know what he looks like, you would understand.
Reilly made me take a picture of him with a random Chevy SUV at the end of Test Track. He didn't choose any of the cool concept cars, he thought the SUV was way cooler.
Nevertheless, we went over to customer service and were able to finally get our bands activated and then headed into the park. I just want to point out that we were not the only family that this happened to. If I had to give one to tip to families travelling to Disney it would be CHECK IN FIRST. There was no info given to us about this and it was never mentioned in any of the literature. We immediately went and waited in line for about 45 minutes to get the boys signed up for Jedi training. We got them signed up for an afternoon time slot and then moved on to some rides and shows.
Throughout the course of they day we were able to enjoy all the things we had hoped for. The main thing the boys wanted to do was Jedi Master Training. They had been talking about that since we told them we were going. We met Chewbacca and Kylo Ren. We ate a delicious meal at an Italian restaurant (It was fantastic!), and later we forgot we had reservations for Fantasmic as part of the dining package and missed it. Reilly did ride Tower of Terror once, but he was definitely not going to do it again. TJ was able to ride Rockin' Roller Coaster for the first time, and he loved it. For some reason, for at least three rides TJ had to poop. He would forget about it until we were just about on the ride and then it was like he would remember. Our last ride of the day was Rockin' Roller Coaster and just as we are bout to zoom off, TJ looks over at me and says, "Mom, I really have to poop." I calmly look over to him and said, "Kid, you better hold it tight." Overall it was a great first day at Disney.
The hotel was, well, it was really a motel by my definition. You entered your room from the outside. It was well taken care of, but to give you an idea of how dated it was, the wing we stayed in was in the theme of The Love Bug (you remember Herbie, right?). But it had a food court with decent food that was included in our meal plan, so we were able to eat dinner that night. Reilly fell asleep at the table (literally). Jase was upset for I can't remember what reason. There was no reason. He just lost his mind.
Day 2 at Disney was at Animal Kingdom. There are really not a lot of rides there, and definitely not a lot for kids. TJ was terrified of the Dinosaur ride (he had been on it before) and wanted so much not to ride it that he pretty much had a breakdown and cried. The boys did enjoy Expedition Everest, although Jase could not ride. They all enjoyed Kilimanjaro Safari, which we rode twice, including at night. This is something relatively new according to the workers. The rhinos were super active and were basically walking right up to our truck. The lions were out and actually sitting up where you could see them. I have never seen them like that there! It's definitely another great tip for that park! That was pretty cool. One of the highlights was Jase getting to enjoy meeting Donald, Goofy, Daisy, and Mickey during our buffet lunch. Day 2 at Disney was about the time that the boys began to get really worn out and ready to go sleep at the motel.
Day 3 we had an adventure at Epcot. Maybe the favorite ride for the boys was Test Track. We had a late breakfast over at the Polynesian so that Jase could meet Stitch, his absolute favorite character for some reason. Stitch is Jase's spirit animal (alien) for sure. If you know anything about Stitch and have met Jase, you understand this completely. Ohana restaurant is the only place that one can meet Stitch, so that's what we did. Jase loved it. Before returning to Epcot we let the boys swim in the hotel pool for a little while. It was going to be our only chance. This was a long day. We didn't leave Epcot until after 10:30 to head back to the hotel. I might have sneaked off to meet Anna and Elsa. I love how when I told the princesses that I had all boys and I was all alone, they made me feel normal and not like a total crazy.
The last two days were spent at Magic Kingdom. This was great for Jase because he could ride almost every ride. The other two rode Space Mountain. Jase actually believed he rode Space Mountain because he rode the People Mover which goes right into Space Mountain. Jase loved all the rides, including the Tea Cups, The Barnstormer, the Carousel, Pirates of the Caribbean, Small World, and most of all the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train. We got there early on the last day to be one of the first in line. So we rode it first thing and then again as the last thing we did. It was great. We also got to eat lunch with Pooh, Tigger, Piglet, and my favorite Eeyore (Anthony's spirit animal). I just want to point out that we got that reservation at the Crystal Palace the day before. I thought that was pretty awesome. We thoroughly enjoyed the last of our snack credits from the dining plan on some junk food.
Overall it was such a fun trip. It is something that Jen has wanted to do for the boys for a long time. I have only been saving since I started my photography business. It wasn't always perfect. The boys complained that they were tired. The adults complained that their heels hurt, really bad (mostly Anthony). But it was an opportunity for us to make memories that we will remember for a long time. I'm so thrilled that we had the opportunity to do this, and much of it is owed to Jen's hard work in photography and so many other ways. Oh yeah, I also saw Iron Chef Morimoto. So there's that. The sad thing is I didn't believe him when we saw him and he is my absolute favorite Iron Chef. We also so the hosts of The View and John Stamos.
Things they said...
Reilly-as we're driving to the parking lot: We have to drive through this obstacle course?
Reilly-Is that the hotel we're staying in? TJ-No. That's Tower of Terror.
Jase-As we're in the back seat of the safari ride and another safari vehicle is trailing a little way off: Dad! They're coming for you!
Jase-After he ate an entire box of popcorn and then finished a sucker: Dad, there's more popcorn in my mouth. (He had some stuck between his teeth.)
Reilly-At the end of the meal at the Italian restaurant: I think we should leave this place before I get colder.
TJ: If you lose my balloon you're going to own me $12 and a dream. This is after I told his brother that if he popped it, he would owe him $12.
Reilly: Mom, I think we are in the slow pass line.
TJ: Why do they even put this nutritional information on water? It's completely useless.
Reilly: I don't think you would even miss us is we were in prison. (This was after I told him that his dad and I were moving to Orlando to work at Disney when we were old.)
Things they did...
Chip motioned to me that I had a nice beard as I walked by.
Buzz Lightyear asked me what the PC on my hat stood for. I told him, and he just threw it at me in disgust.
Jase, waiting in line to see Kylo Ren, was repeatedly hitting a lady in the butt with his stuffed animal Stitch.
I might have waited in line to see Rapunzel. I might have also ran up to her squealing about her being my favorite princess.....maybe.
We had the characters signing autographs with a sharpie. Reilly hugged Pooh a little too hard with the sharpie between them. He had a huge mark on his face that we couldn't get off till the next day.
My husband harassed stormtroopers any chance he got. I just motioned to them to move along.
Jase almost took out Baymax. If you know what he looks like, you would understand.
Reilly made me take a picture of him with a random Chevy SUV at the end of Test Track. He didn't choose any of the cool concept cars, he thought the SUV was way cooler.
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