just a week

I'm not one to usually brood about and feel sorry for myself.  I see the cyclical nature of things and know that they can't stay bad forever, and I'm generally a positive person and laid back in many ways. Maybe I've also been blessed with God just giving me a little nonsense scattered throughout my life instead of all at once.  but I have to say after this last week, both Dave and I agreed that we were feeling attacked by some spiritual force.

for the past six weeks we've been preparing to move in one way or another, be it trying to find a new place to rent, rushing to get cashier's checks delivered, trying to make hiring movers work in our budget, trying to find a washer and dryer, and of course, my all time favorite activity: packing. I thought that having so much time would ease the burden of moving, because I hate it so much. But I was wrong. It turns out that having so much time just dragged out the process to the point where I was living and breathing packing, scouring Craig's List for boxes, and trying to pick through our belongings in constant search of things I could get packed and out of the way.

before we could even move, messes started to rain down.  the Friday before, I was driving to Dave's going away party when a rock bounced off a gardening truck, hit my windshield, and proceeded to leave a crack over a foot long in my stupidly expensive windshield. two days later, on Sunday, Olivia started developing a major diaper rash (and her first one ever) that caused her to buck and arch away from me anytime I tried to change her diaper. oh, and throw in a good case of diarrhea for good measure. it turns out the new diapers I tried were not conducive to her poor little behind.

finally, last Tuesday arrived and with the help of a friend who referred some very affordable movers, we moved! of course it was a horribly hot day. that night, we walked to a restaurant across the street to eat dinner because of course we had nothing to eat in our new house.  while getting ready for Olivia's 6 month appointment and my work meeting on Wednesday morning, I started to feel awful. before the day was over, I had spent half the day in the bathroom or leaning over bushes to expel whatever demon was inside of me from the new restaurant, which I will never be visiting again. We made it to Olivia's appointment, where the doctor proceeded to tell us that her head circumference was in the 90th percentile and he wanted to send us for a head ultrasound to make sure she didn't have any excess fluid surrounding her brain. I don't remember much of the appointment after that.

on Thursday, I asked Dave to move his car out of the garage so the windshield repair man could get inside. his car wouldn't start. so we had to call Triple A and buy a new battery.  then, I made it to CHOC Hospital where we had LW's head ultrasound. The tech told us "everything looked good," and while it isn't an official diagnosis, at least some of the weight for the past week lifted from my burdened shoulders. and on Friday we scurried around packing so we could finally get a move on and get to our much needed vacation (as if we could relax!?).

now that we've been here a few days (separate post to come, I promise), we have finally be able to start resting. we have no plans except to go swimming, watch movies, and give Olivia a good time.  there were a lot of things that happened this past week that could have derailed us from this point, but God is faithful.  I feel it in my bones that He is incapable of leaving us or unloving us. He has brought us to this place and will carry us through. I have to say I'm elated this week is behind us. We've been waiting for a long time to be in a new place and see where our life takes us. now we can start.

p.s., Happy 100th Post to me!

the plans I have for you

the other day I was catching up on my blog reading and came across a new post by a creative, young mom that I started following when I was pregnant.  most likely, I found something of hers on Pinterest and then push came to shove and there I was, reading her blog and dreaming about how my life as a mother would come to fruition. Her daughter was born exactly one year ahead of Olivia and it was exciting to read about what she was going through, knowing that I would be next.

Over the last year, I've come to love/hate reading her blog, but never really could tell why. I had to be in the right mood, and was usually a couple weeks behind. None of her posts were sad, and most are filled with creative snack foods, decorating ideas, and whimsical baby milestones. Then, the other day it hit me. I was reading a post where she was apologizing for her brief break from her blog for the day, because her daughter had a behaviorally horrible day and that she didn't want to post about it because she likes to keep things "happy and positive."

Ohhhh- there it is.

I don't like reading your blog all that much because it makes me feel like a less than perfect mother and a bedraggled woman who sometimes forgets to brush her teeth, much less have time to cut her child's morning fruit into 5 point stars. I guess the sugar coated blog is just that, a cover for just a regular 'ole mom hiding in there somewhere.

I've learned a lot about myself these past 6 months, and I know that God has gifted me to be the mother that I am- fancy fruit shapes or not. Things that would have horrified me pre-baby, don't even cross my mind (vomit, poop, boogers- you get the idea). Getting up in the middle of the night is only painful when I have a horrible sunburn and can't really sit back in the rocking chair to calm my crying child.  Spending money on diapers is much more fulfilling than that necklace I've wanted from JCrew. Nuking my coffee 4 times before I can actually drink it is just the way mornings go, so long as I can get Olivia down for the nap she desperately needs, but fights me for every time.

in spite of it all, I sometimes loathe myself for still wanting to be that mom with the perfectly coiffed hair, who makes her own baby food, has time to throw parties and entertain guests with homemade appetizers, and has time for Gymboree. I wish I could buy baby clothes only from Baby Gap and post Outfits of the Day of me and my fashionable baby, but am lucky sometimes if we both just dressed. I'm the mom who's daughter rolled off the couch last week and got sunburned at the beach. my house is often a disaster, and I've been known to suck the germs off a pacifier that fell on the ground instead of sterilizing it. I've brought my baby to a bar, kept her out too late, and have instituted more of a bed time "span" rather then bed time. am I doing this wrong?

lately i find solace in God's beautiful and reassuring words in Jeremiah 29:11:

""for I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.""

while there's nothing wrong with sharing only the beauty of the good life, you probably won't find that here. I still wonder what it is about those types of blogs that we like so much. my guess is it gives us a brief escape into a fantasy land, a desperate break from sticky fingers and wet diapers. I have to remember that an Instagram account doesn't tell the whole story. maybe one day the sugar coated mom can visit here, and know she's not alone. until then, I'm going to rest in the peace that God's going to take care of my future, and that I'm just along for the ride.