You should never have a kid.... but if you do...

When I got married the first time at 21, I was sure that I never really wanted kids. And if somehow the adorable dimples of the man I was with, convinced me, I was even more convinced that I couldn't possibly ever love any child that wasn't female. I was convinced my life would probably be better off without any offspring. I was even against getting a dog. I was more than content to have my nieces over and love on them and then SEND them back. I loved my ginormous 20 lbs of cat, Dante. I was more than content to share my space with him, but the overwhelming desire to share my DNA and finances further was a quick NOPE.

The thing is ... I never just a moment back then where I smelled the intoxicating baby smell and had to talk my ovaries down. I didn't picture myself pushing strollers or naming tiny humans that were half me. I gave my pets full names, middle included, but never even dreamed of what something that was a branch on my family tree would look like. It's not how I was put together.

Then my best friend called me on the phone and discussed babies. We decided to throw out our birth control away on the phone together. Peer pressure at it's finest! (totally serious.)

The thing is .... I was pregnant within 45days of throwing it away. I had the easiest, most fun, and smoothest pregnancy; no sickness, no swelling, no complaints. I loved it. And then....I hit 43 weeks and no one wants to spend any time with me for fear I would "accidentally" have a kid. I finally beg the doctor to induce and 26 hours, 2 epidurals, and one very fat nearly 10lb baby later. I was holding someone who was half of my genetics. I have never been more scared of failing in my entire life. I felt helpless and ashamed that I wasn't able to calm and comfort him within the first 5 min of meeting him outside his belly home. I was overwhelmed. I was tired. I was feeling broken that I wasn't able to "instinctively" fix everything and make him feel safe. Eventually he calmed down and we took the best nap of my life.

But something changed in me after that. I finally understood what it felt like to have my heart outside my body. I felt my heart nearly explode when he hurt. I was thankful for the cage of my ribs to keep my heart from lashing outside of myself  and shredding someone when I felt that he was in danger or threatened.

I fell in love with thinking up ways to care for and nurture my son. I worked to build his character and show him love beyond understanding. I made intentional choices to tell him that nothing could or would every stop my love for him. I think of the correct words for discipline to correct behavior without crushing the spirit. I remind myself that he is someone's future husband and father. This man that I am raising isn't mine. He is a future member of society. If I fail him- it's not just a bad parenting moment. I don't get to hit reset and fix my mistakes. I admit my mistakes and apologize to him. I work to communicate why and how I need him to behave.

And somewhere in the middle- I found out that he alone is my greatest accomplishment. I have degrees. I have been needed. But raising my child is truly the one thing in my life that I am the most proud of.  He is smart and witty. He is compassionate. He is stubborn and amazes me with the way that he approaches the world. I didn't know that I could be willing and able to hold a puking child before him. I never knew that him learning to write his name would make me so proud and shatter my heart that he was growing up. I never knew I would be proud to have survived a single week with a newborn. I had no idea that I would be able to map the freckles on his body with my eyes closed and look across the room and know if he was sick just by seeing his eyes. I never knew I could look it his green eyes first thing in the morning and gauge the quality of the rest of my day depending on how dark or light the intensity of the green is. Dark green and all the deepest most ornery parts of him are going to battle me and make me question every single oz of my ability to be a decent parent.

I never knew what I was missing- until I found it. I guess I'm saying, you should never have a kid unless you are willing and able to give up your ideas about love and devotion. Because the moment you have a kid- your ideas about love change.



 

You aren't hard to love.

People who tell you that you are difficult to love are liars. The truth is, you are NOT hard to love.
Everyone has redeeming qualities. Everyone has things that make them attractive to someone else... you just need to find people who are a fit to your puzzle of complicated. The real problem is that some people do not want to love you for you. They do not respect your needs or desires and want you to fit in a little box.

From what I have learned about life, love, and relationships; people are complex. We need to feel loved and needed- that is simple. How we understand and accept love- that is located more closely to the deep end of the ocean.

Some need to be held and touched and praised while others need to acts of service to feel that other person is giving for them. Your own needs are your needs. I like to think of it simply. Some people are attracted to blondes, some people swoon over dimples, and others notice eyes. Your ability to be turned on and feel desire to share time and company with someone is who you are. The same is true that you need to be given love how you feel loved. I could care less about gifts. Money is not something I focus on. I feel guilt from people spending too much on me. I think of how hard the other people had to work to purchase it, I consider if they should have spent the money on something they needed for themselves or possibly their kids. I literally get guilt about a lot of gifts. I need touch. I
am pretty sure I was a puppy in a past life. When I don't feel good I like my tummy rubbed and my hair played with. I like end of the day hugs at the door like some silly 1950's type sitcom. As I think about it, that probably reinforces the puppy theory.

Some people will attempt to make fun of you for wanting to receive love how you receive love. That's the same nonsense of telling parents of newborn babies not to "overly" hold them. Touch is a basic need even for brand new tiny humans. Research has shown that when people touch people that they love their blood pressure levels and their heart rate maintains a constant and even rhythm.

You are not hard to love. You will always be seen as hard to love by people who don't love the real you. When I am overwhelmed and at the end of my rope, there are only like 3 people who I feel safe and comfortable touching me. Everyone else makes me mad or upset. Those 3 people though- I could lay down beside and not speak and be content even on my worst day.

When people don't respect you and your needs- they push you. They demand you love them as they see fit. They don't try to find a safe and comfortable place for both of you. How you need and receive love is apart of you as your fingerprint.
You can not fully feel love in ways that don't feel like love to you.

If someone is tells you that you are hard to love- they lie. You are only hard to love by people who don't love you but love what you can do for them.

"He was my first ..." communication and the power of words ...

Language is powerful. Not always in a big red button of distruction sort of way. The fact that as humanity we can use a simple phrase and change someone else's life.
Ex: "she was my best friend" It's a simple sentence. Depending on your own life and experiences you could have read it very differently .... Who is the she?
-Did she just die ?
-Did something happen to your friendship and you're no longer friends?
-Did you did you read the sentence as if it were yelled because your significant other cheated?
-Did you hear with rainbows & music in the background as a reason to commit your life to hers?
-Was it a threat to someone you think might cause her harm and they need to know the lengths that you would go to hell and back for her?

 Another example of the power of simple phrases : "he was my first ..."
-Was he your first baby daddy ?
-Your first customer?
-Your first table that you waited on as a server?
-Was he one night stand?
-Your first love?
-Your first tattoo ?
-Your first sexual experience ?
-Your first heartbreak?
-Your first child ?
-Your first pregnancy ?
We literally completely change the meaning of a single sentence depending on what your life and your experiences. There's a huge difference between spoken word and written word- tone.

What about the phrase, "I'll be waiting." Is it the end of the date so your best friend can rehash everything that happened? To get revenge on someone who is caused you ill? For payment? Are you a mom picking up your kids after school? Are you a significant other waiting on your loved one to return home from duty, from a fire, from a third world country without running water? In the waiting room at the end of a surgery to find out if they're going to survive?  Are you waiting for a call back or text back ? Are you someone waiting at the end of runway for someone to get off the plane & he's never coming to see you?  Are you waiting for someone to come home? Are you waiting for someone who is never going to come back to you?

We teach kids that words are powerful . We make our children say they are sorry and apologize for their wrong doings. We make them admit they have done something before the apology can make a difference.  We teach them that "it's not okay to treat our friends like that." And somewhere between being kids and becoming full fledged adults,we lose sight of that fact that words have power. We stop saying I love you to our friends and only jokingly say it to the barista making coffee at Starbucks. We stop making effort. We don't call our parents as much as we should. We don't tell our siblings that we are proud of their accomplishments.

But the truth is - we do love our families and we are proud of the things our siblings do. We know that even though the words "I'm sorry" doesn't fix the things we mess up - it does open the door for healing. We went our kids to grow up and become happy healthy members of society - but are giving them the tool of language to communicate to others ? Are you telling your friends you enjoy time with them ? Are you communicating that you are struggling and need to vent?

I do not admit that I have problems very easily. If I am willing to admit I have a problem, I TRUST SOMEONE. My ability to admit weakness and failure is even more limited ... but if I don't tell other people when I need help, they may not know I need it .

Admit when you mess up.
Accept weakness- in yourself and others.
Take care of people.
Give people the benefit of doubt when you don't know what they meant
Tell people when they do good.
Care about people.
Stop hiding and let people into your world ....
but mostly ...
say the things that you need to ...
Stop making people read between the lines!
Say what you need. Say what you mean.

Ps:
You matter .
You make my life more entertaining.
Thank you for being there. I'll be here when you need me

"In the name of love..."

Listening to the radio on the way home from school today I started pondering about all the thing people have done "in the name of love."

I thought about the husbands and wives who have held the their spouse's hand in the hospital and the love and devotion that it would take to be there as a rock for your spouse. You are witnessing someone you love most, hurting or sick. You are the calm and peace during a storm in their life. I thought of the fake smiles and warm hugs given to bring comfort. The ones fighting hard. The ones broken knowing this fight will not be won. I thought of families in hospital rooms making choices to remove life sustaining support. These are not light or easy choices. These actions are done in love.

I considered all the wars fought to protect loved ones in hopes that their sacrifice would be enough. The sacrifice of their families who do not get to kiss their loved ones goodnight or snuggle peacefully next to the warm body of their loved ones. The love being stretched thin across the miles and time zones. I thought of the families who move to where the military takes them. I consider those who step in place of others to prevent their demise. These are things done in sacrifice and love.

I think of the parents who work hard to provide for their children. The parents who sit up nights when their child is sick knowing they have to work the next day. The dads who play dress up and tea parties with their princess'. The moms who learn names of dinosaurs and the correct pronunciation to help feed their son's devotion to all things Jurassic or Crustaceous. The families who save nickels and dimes for vacations to build memories. The moms and dads who hold their babies and feel their heart melt down to their toes. The feeling of knowing that not only would you sacrifice for your child- but if anyone tried to hurt them, the lengths of violence you would go though to save and protect them. The fear and worry that you aren't doing enough. The desire to give your child a future that is happy.These are things done in love.

I think back on teachers and educators who have given up time and money to provide lessons they hoped who make a lasting impression on the minds of their students. I think to some of the teachers who held me accountable and made me love learning. I think of Mrs. Kennedy and her "life lessons" she sprinkled in with her essays, Shakespeare, and English lessons. I think of Sra. Wilhite and her drive to not just teach the Spanish in the book but also make our very entitled group of kids see the world around us and think about the lives of foreign countries. Coach Picklo and all the many, many cool dissections and explanations in Anatomy/Physiology. He explained synapses and cells with us running around the room passing off dry erase markers to signify things being passed between them. I think to about all the boring reading logs and half done effort I put into all my AP English classes. Ironically- many of the books that we read back then, saved me. They made me feel less alone. They gave words to express the struggle in my head. They provided the outlet for all the crazy and drama of my life. These teachers didn't put up with us because it was easy. I remember the hell and torture many of my senior class caused our school system. They had to love us. Their ability to show up every day and put up with our rough edges of learning and growth- that is absolutely love.

I think of all my friends who have somehow known the exact thing to say or NOT to say when I NEEDED them most. The poor souls who spoke truth to me even when I wouldn't admit it was truth. They accepted my hard days and bad attitudes. People who have handled my overly stressed and incredibly hangry. I do not handle change. I do not always admit when I need help. I am stubborn beyond what word or even puppets can explain. And yet, there are people who have reached out to me to stand in the gap between my struggle and my sanity. I am not easy to love and yet I am blessed and loved beyond my understanding.

I pondered that so many people give their time and energy in the name of love. How do we even begin to find or create words that explain sacrifice and love?

Tomorrow is Valentines. Truth is, Valentines reminds me of my mother. Her sitting on the sidelines of cold football games to see me. Driving to basketball games and cheering for me regardless of winning or losing. Attending band functions, choir shows, and Speech and Debate competitions all over the state. I think of her getting up and snuggling me in my bed on the weekends in middle school and high school just to talk and catch up with life. I think of all the times she argued with my VERY strong willed teenage self and never backed down. I think of her getting up EXTRA early on Valentines days to drive to allllllll the immediate family member's homes to put bags full of red underwear on our porches. She said everyone deserved pretty undies on Valentines. I'm positive she and God have had more than few "discussions" about me over the years.  I make her crazy. I also know that my momma loves me. I am sure I will never know all the tings she has done for me "in the name of love."

So my question to you- Are you telling people they matter? Do your actions show love?
What are you doing in the name of love for people important to you?

For better or For Worse- PARENTING

Everyone is pretty familiar with marriage vows, but not many people consider applying those same promises to having children....

"to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part."

Now apply that to how you raise your child. Are you loving and cherishing them? Are you caring for them mentally and physically regardless of their views on religion or love? Are you concerned for their well being even when you do not agree with their choices?

BY NO MEANS am I saying parents are to be fiscally responsible for their offspring for the entire duration of their life! I do know that there have been times in my life when I choose to love, honor, and make sure my son felt cherished even if I had to work extra hard or save extra long. I believe that memories are something I can pass down to my child.

Many people are comfortable saying that "blood is thicker" and claiming family when it is easy. What about when your heart is broken for and/or by them? Do you choose love? Do your words and actions reflect the same overwhelmingly crushing love as when you held them for the first time? Even if their arrival into the world was not apart of YOUR intentions at that moment- the entire universe and stars in the heavens had to align so that during the very tiny window that a woman is ovulating that everything worked out to allow this tiny human to exist. The world needed their  existence for some good that is greater than you. Maybe they are hear to lead people and change thousands of peoples' lives. Maybe they are here to inspire someone who will be kinder and more gentle to others.  Whether you are able to see the ripple of effect that you ( or they) have- there is a ripple. Our lives are not lived isolated without any interaction. Our lives are touched, shaped, grown, and moved by the ripples of others who have touched us both positively or negatively.

If parenthood had vows- I do not think they would be that much different than the vows of commitment that most people say during a wedding. As a parent I often feel as though my hear tis walking around outside my body. I am proud when my succeeds. I feel the desire to protect and comfort him when he fails- and sometimes allowing him to fall and learn to get up is harder for me to allow than the lesson he is learning. I want him to grow to be a good man who loves his family and kisses his babies goodnight.

I dream of him being the kid of man whose kids run to him after work. I parent and nurture him hoping that the man I am going to eventually send into the world will be protective and stand in the gaps of other's weakness and gentle to those who need it. I am raising a husband and a father. There is not a "little boy" that sleeps in his room- but rather a developing man.

Are you taking your rolls as parent seriously? You are raising our future generations. You are raising the people who will change the world .

Are your actions as a parent going to help or hurt ?

Because "for better or for worse" you are the main difference.