Five Years!

The desire to write a beautiful and eloquent post extolling the virtues of my husband on our five year anniversary is daunting and trying to keep me from writing anything at all. The last five years of marriage certainly don't wrap up nicely for a sweet little blog post. But anything less than perfection seems to come up short to express how grateful I am for my husband.

Five years ago, August 9. 2008, we said "I do" and meant it with our whole hearts. We still mean it. We always will.
We've lived in three states, had two babies, spent 10 weeks without a home, driven home to see family for more hours than I want to count, made countless friendships, joined three different parishes, reworked our budget 476 times, and did a million loads of dishes. And although our marriage is full of big, grand, wonderful things (things like, praying together and mutual respect and never yelling) it's the tiny little things that really make me love him more and more each year. Tiny things that no one else would even notice. Like when he catches me crying and gives me a look that asks, "what's wrong?" and then hugs me when I tell him I was reading Knuffle Bunny Free with Hannah instead of laughing at me like most people would. Or how, when I show him the tiny bobby pins I bought for Hannah's hair, instead of asking how much they cost or giving me a look of and I care, why? he smiles and gushes about how cute they are. Because he loves her. And he thinks she is the best and sweetest and most wonderful little girl in the world and the thought of tiny little bobby pins in her hair makes him melt. And he loves his son. He dances and sings and plays with him like he was born to be the father of this little boy. Like he's spent his whole life practicing to be world's best daddy.

He loves us. His family. He loves us. He gives us everything he has every single day. There are so many days I stand in awe of how awesome he is and thank God silently that I married someone so much better than myself. That's my advice to anyone out there choosing a spouse. Marry someone so, so much better than yourself. Someone who will lead you to heaven. Hold you accountable. Challenge you. Teach you. And give and give and give until you are sure he has nothing left to give. But then he gives some more. Because he's the husband and he's the daddy and he knows he has to.

So much grace.

There is so much grace in the sacrament of marriage. So much grace when you open yourself up to parenthood. We couldn't do this without His grace. And He gives it to us so abundantly.

Happy Anniversary my love. I know you probably won't even read this post for another couple of weeks because your inbox is so full of junk email you wont even see it. (See, there are a few things that drive me crazy about him.....) Here's to the next five years. And the next fifty. I love you and thank Jesus for you every single day. Thanks for choosing me.

Loving the Language

Isn't language development just the coolest dang thing? I know I'm a speech therapist, so I probably care about it a leeeetle more than the average joe. But come on, kids learning how to TALK is amazing. I devoted many years of my life studying language development and then some more years doing language therapy but NOTHING could be as cool to this language nerd as watching my own kid's language take off. To see her wake up in the morning and say ten new words before breakfast. To ask her, "Hannah, what's in those clouds?" knowing she has no earthly idea what the answer is. Until I hear her say matter-of-factly, Wain." And then follow it up with, "Falls down on my head! Gets me wet!"

Mind blown.

Toddlers are fascinating. Yes, they're exasperating and challenging and a whole lot of work. But fascinating. Watching her language expand and grow has got to be one of my favorite parenting highlights so far. As Ted said today, "Oh to be a fly on the inside of her brain."


While making a smoothie with me:
This smoothie is for us. Not for the animals. (Dis moonie is dor us. Not dor animos.)

A conversation after she hit Paul on the head when she was overly excited:
Me: Hannah, I know you are excited but you never, NEVER hit Paul. Instead of hitting Paul, next time you get excited ---
Hannah: Hit mommy!

While on the toilet:
Hannah: Look (yut), my poop made bubbles!

During breakfast:
Me: Here you go. You can have my strawberry.
Hannah: Big strawberry! Really big! Really big like Daddy! (Bid stawbewy. Weawy bid. Bid yite Daddy.)

In reference to the bottle opener that is nailed to the cabinet next to our dishwasher (it was here when we moved in, but man, what a good idea!)
Dis where beer tums out. (holding up her empty playdough jar). Tum out beer!

And during an attempt to get out of bed by telling me she had to poop.
Me: Hannah, do you remember how you told me that you had to poop last night?
Hannah: Yes.
Me: And remember how you pushed and pushed but there wasn't any poop?
Hannah: Yes.
Me: So tonight-
Hannah (leaning in and nodding her head): Push harder!

Seven Quick Takes

-1-

I love reading everyone's Five Favorites posts. But for whatever reason, I can never seem to get one up in time to join the link-up. I wanted to write one from Paul's perspective this week. Here its that entire post in a nutshell: Paul's Five Favorites are 1) mom, 2) mom, 3) mom, 4) mom, 5) being in the water.... preferably with mom.

But it's ok because he's so stinking sweet. I finally found a way to upload pictures to my sister's borrowed Mac so all you people out there can see what a cutie we have.

Ay Ay Cap'n.

Future Cardinals MVP

That drool ain't nothing compared to what this kid can do

This one is from yesterday. We have a sitter! Note the soaking wet shirt, his fourth of the day. I hate bibs.

-2-

Hannah is getting so funny. She's starting to get a real sense of humor and I am loving it. Just a few days away from two and a HALF! She's transitioning from toddler to preschooler and it's fun and exciting and horrible and terrifying all at the same time. But there's this

and that's fun. Wearing Paul's pajamas and pretending like the wrapping paper roll is a cane. Just to make us laugh.

-3-

I think Hannah is inheriting Ted's love of biology. We went swimming Sunday and she could have cared less for jumping into the water, showing off her new swimming skills, or even playing on our friend's iPhone. All she wanted was these

disgusting things. Yes, we swam with frogs. And she will probably never have as much fun swimming without frogs as she did with them. Weird kid.

-4-

For my second quick take about frogs, a story: On the way home from seeing my client for speech therapy today I noticed a tiny frog sitting on my rear view mirror. He was nestled in between the mirror and the driver's side window. I was already on the interstate so I couldn't do anything about it (not that I would have really done anything if I were on a regular road...). I was nervous he was going to fall off so I did my best to send him telepathic signals to stay put right where he was and I would deliver him safely to his new home. Or let Hannah play with him until he wished he was dead. When I got to the a stoplight shortly before our house he tried to make a break for it and hopped to the other side of the rear view mirror, but when I took off again.....woosh! and smear! and no more frog. Apparently he didn't get my mind message.

-5-

In case you were wondering, I love my new job. Love it. I'm still in training but I'm certain I will love it even more when I get going on my own. I love getting out of the house and eating lunch with my coworkers. I love the new play skills that Hannah is picking up from the babysitter. I love that Paul is doing well when I'm gone. And I love that I'm making money. I don't love paying the babysitter from the money I make, but whatcha gonna do? I've been doing all ten hours in the office for training but will drop that back next month. Then comes the real test: working from home!

-6-

Ted and I are speaking at an Engaged Encounter weekend on Saturday. We are doing the NFP presentation and are just about finished tweaking our talk. Say a prayer for us and the couples will ya?

-7-

My email account changed up its format and I didn't pay attention. They sent me a message about that sat unopened in my inbox for a few days until I deleted it. I guess I should have read it because all of my comments from my last post about "changing the bar" were hiding. I thought it was a bit strange I got crickets on that one. I usually love to respond to commenters if they have their email linked, but I'm too behind on that one. Thanks for your comment if you left one!

And now I'm going to break a blogging rule and just forget about all the links in this post. Too lazy. And my computer is too slow. You're stuck with just me on this one with no clickables to take you away. Except for Jen, who is the host and deserves the link.

Changing the Bar

I always hear moms talk about "lowering the bar". Referring to letting some (all....) of your standards go when parenthood is exceptionally challenging. I've used the phrase plenty of times when describing my parenting style after Paul was born. BP (Before Paul) I let Hannah watch about an hour of TV per week. AP, I lowered the bar to about a half hour a day. Then to two half hours a day. Then to one half hour show and one hour long show. Then the bar just fell through the floor and I stopped keeping track of how much TV she was watching and just turned it on thanking Jesus for the blessing that is Barney.

So I've done my fair share of bar lowering and I've wrestled with the guilt that accompanies it, as I'm sure every mother has. Motherhood for me is like a constant mental marathon. Am I feeding her enough protein? Should I get rid of these baby books so she's more challenged by other ones? Have I been babbling enough with Paul? It seems like he's babbling less than he used to. How can I encourage her to improve her speech without pissing her off? How can I get her to eat more vegetables? Ugh, we can't afford this probiotic anymore. Is Paul's gut going to suffer forever because of me? Am I ruining my baby because of the sucralose in these gas drops that don't even seem to help? Is Hannah going to remember this day when she's older and how much I yelled at her?

And so on and so forth. Despite my best efforts to do my own thing, it's constant comparison around here. And I don't even compare myself to a real person most of the time. I compare myself to "that mom". The one who gets new library books every single week and plays classical music every day and prepares every meal from organic, whole foods and eats off plates that aren't plastic and filled with chemicals and never lets her kids watch TV and instead provides enriching and educational activities every hour of the day and somehow manages to do waaaaay more than I do on our budget and would never dream of leaving the potty chair sitting in the shower for five straight days without taking some serious antibacterial wipes to clean out that poop..... But I've never met that mom. I know she doesn't exist. But she's still in my head. Not so gently nagging me about all the things I'm screwing up on a daily basis.

I do know plenty of real moms who put me to shame with their culinary skills or their educational activities. But they don't outdo me in every area. (Not that it's a contest, blah blah blah, I know and I get it.)  I have my strengths and they have theirs.

And yes, there are legitimate times when the bar of acceptable motherhood needs to be lowered for survival's sake. But instead of beating myself up about letting Hannah eat another chocolate chip or watch a third (fourth, fifth.....) episode of Curious George, maybe I should change the bar completely.

What if I started measuring my success as a mother by how many times a day I prayed with Hannah instead of how many vegetables I can sneak into her food. What if I worried more about getting to daily Mass instead of getting to the library. What if I took the dozen opportunities a day to sit and nurse Paul to pray for him and sing to him instead of closing my eyes and turning my brain off.

I need to hold myself to a very high standard of motherhood. Feeding my kids healthy food and providing them with educational activities is important. Very important. But if they don't know Jesus, then what will it even matter? If I nourish their minds and their bodies with the very best I can give, but I don't nourish their souls...then I will have failed at the greatest task of my life. Instead of feeling guilty at the end of the day for how much the TV was on or the crappy meals I managed to scrape together, I need to reflect on the times I remembered to say morning prayers with Hannah, or blessed Paul with holy water, or made the sign of the cross together as we passed a church. I need to stop yelling at my toddler and pray with her instead. Not because I want to be like other moms who don't yell at their kids, but because my kid is a precious and beautiful gift from God and she deserves a mother who treats her as such.

This new bar is still set pretty low. I'm not shooting for a daily family rosary or Mass five days a week. I just want to weave more prayer into the day. More patience. More peace in my home.

My patron saint for 2013 is Mary, Queen of Peace. I need to look to her as an example of the kind of mother I want to be, not my facebook friends. I still need to set the bar for motherhood and raise and lower it according to our circumstances, but I've got to find a totally different bar than the one I've been using.



Mary, Queen of Peace, pray for me!

The Post with No Title and No Ending

I have so much I want to write about. I'm dying to upload pictures from our trip. I want to hash out every detail of our love story and share in the link up fun. I'd love to do a quick takes while the kids are napping because they're my favorite.

Yet, it's just not coming. I'm feeling a tug in the unplugging direction. Not deleting the blog or anything, I'm not totally crazy. But feeling the prompting to cut back, slim down, disconnect for a while.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm reading the Duggar's book right now. Or maybe it was the article mentioned in this post. Or maybe the Holy Spirit is trying to tell me something and I better listen up. Maybe I need to pray more about my daily life rather than blogging about. Maybe I need to play with my kids more instead of uploading their pictures.

I have no pretty way to wrap up this post.......so I'll just end it.

Tomorrow Morning

Well, I guess diving it is.

Right now my lunch is packed, my outfit is laid out, the coffee is all set for the morning and I'm about to take a shower even though my last shower was only two days ago. Tomorrow morning is my first day of work at my new part-time job.

If you're keeping track, this will be my third job. I'm adding this in with the one kiddo I see for therapy twice a week and the work-at-home nursery coordination I do for our parish. This is is more legit though. It's an actual job job. I have to leave the house and I can't bring my kids with me. I'll be working ten hours a week doing assessments on 9-24 month olds for Autism Spectrum Disorders. It's at a research clinic associated with the university in town. The test I'll be giving is actually the same one I studied for my thesis years ago all the way back in Missouri. The professor is a professional idol (too strong of word? well, someone I admired in grad school then) and I just can't believe the "small worldishness" of me actually ending up in her town and getting hired to work for her clinic.

Seriously, I feel like I was made for this job.

When we moved to Florida a year and a half ago I left a great job in Mississippi that I loved. And although it was hard to leave, I was beyond excited to get to stay home with Hannah. When people asked if I was going to look for a new job in Florida I always replied, "Not right away. If God wants me to work He'll put something in my lap."

This job could not have fallen more directly into my lap.

So I'm excited. Excited to get back into the world of speech therapy. Excited to have colleagues again and adults to talk to and a reason to put makeup on. Excited to have a little external pressure built into my schedule in the hopes that'll it help me better manage my time. But I'm scared. Scared that my kids will be unhappy without me. Scared that it'll be too much too fast and that I'll buckle under the pressure.

But a lot more excited than scared. It feels right. And, at least for the time being, we have a sweet college student coming to watch the kiddos who is equal parts Catholic and speech therapist in training. She's me...about seven years ago. It'll be the first time we ever pay anyone to watch our kids. And it's weird. It's really weird. I feel like I am a college student taking care of other people's kids. Not the person with the two kids paying the college student. Life happens so fast.

After my initial weeks of training, I'll be able to do about half the hours from home. Which will be great, but definitely a test in self discipline. And I have no previous experience having passed that test. So that'll be interesting. But for now, I'm about to venture outside the walls of this house without my kids for ten hours a week. I will miss them. They'll most likely be fine. And I hope we'll all be the better for it. I hope we'll have a little breathing room in our budget. And I hope that I'll be an asset to families just finding out that their children have Autism and be able to get them the help they need.

It's going to be a big adjustment. I've done working mom and I've done stay-at-home mom. But I've never tried to marry the two. I'll probably lay awake in bed far too late tonight with that first-day-of-school mix of nerves and excitement. I'll probably be completely exhausted at this time tomorrow.

So if you could spare a prayer for me tomorrow, I wouldn't decline your generosity. Pray for Bonnie too, while you're at it. And I have two special intentions that would greatly appreciate your prayers as well.

Here goes nothin'!

Return

Hello neglected little blog. We're back from our trip home to Missouri and trying to play catch up. Four days of driving and sleeping in six different beds in 11 days. Tired is an understatement.

I've enjoyed my bloggy break and welcomed life free from the distraction that is the internet. I might wade back into the waters slowly rather than diving right in.

Or maybe not. We'll see.