Christmas as a Way of Life

I always get emotional this time of year.  Christmas songs tear at my heart and make me cry, which makes my family roll their eyes and say, "Here she goes again." I think of what Mary went through as a mom, a teenage mom, not only the circumstances surrounding her son's birth, but knowing his future.  My heart aches, wondering if she wanted to squirrel Jesus away and hide him from certain death.  I think of the families who consistently go without year-round, having to go without at Christmas, too.  I think of children without families, without the basic necessities, just--without.  I think of those for whom this season is not special, for those who are sick, without family, for those who just can't find the spirit because it's too much.

I also think of all the blessings we have as a family.  I think of all the gifts I've been given that (who) can't be wrapped up with pretty paper and perfect bows.  I think of all the things I get to do for my children, and all the things we get to do for others.  It's a fun time of year for me, even when the days are gray and my depression gets worse.  Honestly, being able to be 'Santa' is probably the thing that gets me through December.  I love the smiles on my kids' faces, and the giggling and full-on hearty laughter Shawn and I share over secrets and surprises, the wonder in my kids' eyes.  I love knowing that we've been able to give peace of mind to a parent whose child might have done without on Christmas morning, that we've been able to make someone smile.  I love the 'feel' in the stores, I love that giddy feeling as I choose gifts for family and complete strangers, and leave things for friends and family to find.  I love decorating, the warmth of the Christmas lights, and the comfy feeling it all brings.  I love the hope of the season, the love that surrounds it.  I'm even (finally) getting used to how we eventually 'Furr it up,' knowing that's just how we do things, no matter what we try to do to avoid it. I also get nostalgic, remembering past Christmases, my children's firsts, and all the other memories and traditions that make Christmas special. It's a magical time, a gifted time, for me.  During this season, I'm still a child.

This is a season of huge blessings, and lots of giving.

I started thinking....  What if we live every day as though it's Christmas?  What if it became a way of life?  Families don't go hungry just one month a year.  Children don't go without proper clothing or families only during November and December.  People don't go without basic necessities only 30 days out of 365.  Yes, Christmas is a season and a holiday, but it's also a state of mind.

I can't help but think of what the world would be like if we were just plain kinder to each other.  If we thought of others more often than we think of ourselves.  If we gave from the heart continually, so that no one would ever have to go without.  What if we shared more of ourselves, having conversations with strangers, sharing an encouraging word or a kind smile?  You never know what it could be that you might do or say to turn someone's day around.

This is how I want to live, and how I want my children to live.  I want to share the spirit of this holiday every day, no matter the month or season.  Do we always get it right?  No, we don't.  Remember how I said we Furr it up?  Yeahhhhh.  But we try.

Ezra the Lion Hearted

We've been asked to share Ezra's testimony with our church family.  I need to write it out first, so here's my thinking process.

When I was 25 weeks pregnant with Ezra, he was diagnosed with premature atrial contractions, and a hole in his heart.  At a routine OB appointment, we heard his heart skip several beats, then speed up, repeatedly.  That same week, we followed up with a pediatric cardiologist. Walking into the office was scary; as a parent, you’re thinking to yourself that places like this shouldn’t exist, then you realize your child is the one who needs this place, and you’re grateful they do exist. The cardiologist talked with us extensively, then she did an echocardiogram to look at our baby’s heart. She referred to Ezra by his name, and did her best to calm our fears.  The fact that she used his name and didn't refer to him as a fetus, or any other term, was important to us.  It meant that she saw him the way we did--a real person.  It also helped knowing she is a mom too.  When your child’s health is a concern, you start thinking and worrying too much, often imagining the worst case scenario.  You don't want to think about any reality other than a good one, but your mind goes there anyway.  Hearing the missed beats was one thing, but watching the screen as his heart repeatedly stopped, then sped up, was another frightening thing entirely. Throughout the next weeks and the diagnostic process, God gave us Ezra’s first name, Jonathan, which means Gift of God, and He also gave us his life verse, Isaiah 41:10—“Fear not, for I am with you; Do not be dismayed for I am your God.  I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”  That verse became our strength.  We had one more appointment with the cardiologist before Ezra was born, we notified our pediatrician and our OB required a NICU nurse to be present for his delivery.  Ezra’s heart did not handle the stress of labor well, so we had to have an emergency c-section.  He immediately saw the cardiologist at the hospital, where he had a third echo, and his first ekg.  Bringing him home was scary; we watched him like a hawk, always vigilant for any changes in his breathing or behavior.  At our appointment with the cardiologist when he was a week old, he was diagnosed with a murmur, in addition to the previous diagnoses.  A fourth echo showed the hole still hadn’t closed, nor had the PACs resolved.  We took our newborn home with a 24 hour monitor that day. We were given statistics meant to comfort us, but when you’re talking about your child’s heart, few things give you peace.  We leaned on God, relying on Him to heal our child.  God had seen fit to give us this miracle child in the first place, and we had to know He would make sure Ezra would be okay.  Ezra had so many people praying for him during this time, we knew he was well covered.  It was all in God’s hands.  This past week, we had another follow up with our cardiologist, and we received amazing news! More tests showed the hole in Ezra’s heart is closed, the PACs are gone, and the murmur was undetectable. Right there on the screen was a perfectly normal and healthy beating heart.  Just like that, it’s over.  His heart is healthy and healed. No more tests, no more cardiologists, no more worries.  Once again, our greatest healer took care of it all.  God has given our sweet little boy an amazing testimony, and he’s only 8 months old.  We are so grateful for this healing, and so grateful to all who prayed!  Most of all, we are grateful to serve a loving Father who still performs miracles and keeps His promises.

Be the Light

The world woke up to news of unimaginable horror in Paris this morning.  Most of us went to bed with the news alerts last night.  We woke up hoping for better news.  Needing better news.

Maybe you cried for the lives lost in yet another senseless tragedy, and the families affected. Perhaps you checked on your children an extra time last night, taking in their simple peace as they slept.  Maybe you greeted them a little more exuberantly this morning, grateful for another day with them.    Perhaps you said an extra prayer, posted a message to social media, or just closed your eyes and shook your head, because that was all you could do.

For the families who will now be burying their loved ones, we need to be in thought and prayer.

At a time when we should be coming together, instead, we choose sides. We focus on the bad, rather than encouraging the good. We pick on petty things. We are offended by holiday sweaters, and the lack of design on a red cup.  We are offended by what 'he' said, but stand up for 'her' right to say it.  We have become whiners and complainers.  We are offended by everything, anything, and nothing at all.  We are a society of gigantic, political-correctedness-run-amok, offended babies.

Our world is at war, whether it's been politically sanctioned or not.  Sadly, we are not in a time of peace. We are being attacked by those who know how to quietly infiltrate our systems.  We are at war not just with terrorists, but with ourselves, within our own nations.  Our children do not know a life without loss, without war, without unrest and fear.

Homelessness and poverty rates are at all time highs throughout the world.  Joblessness is still high.  There are children everywhere in need of stable homes and loving families.  There are children who go to school improperly clothed and hungry, and there are still more who don't get to go to school at all.  Babies are being killed before they even have a chance to tell their story.  Children in other countries are kidnapped and forced into war, or worse.  Our own veterans are abandoned by those who are supposed to help them, suffering from PTSD and committing suicide daily. God is being denied and ignored.  Parents are losing their children to diseases, both preventable and not preventable.  Human beings are killing each other over things like shoes, sideways glances and perceived wrong-doings. Injustice is confused for justice.  I could go on, but I won't.  Just read the news.

You have a chance to be the light, to be the love, to be the difference, to be Christ in action. You can be the good in just one person's day.  You can do something, anything, and everything.  "Be the change you wish to see in the world," Mahatma Gandhi.

Or, you can choose to do nothing, and continue complaining about the red cup and sweater.

What I've Learned From Social Media

About six years ago, I closed my Facebook account for the last time, deleting it entirely.  I made the decision realizing it had become an addiction. I allowed it too much control, allowing things beyond my control to bother and upset me, I spent too much time with it, and talked about it way too much. I paid no attention to who my audience was (many of them were teenagers I was working with, and I was setting an incredibly poor example), and shared many things I had no business sharing. I had given it too much power in my life, and consistently chose it over my family. When Noah talks about it now, it still hurts knowing how much of myself I took from them during that time.  In order to show my family how important they are to me, I made a production of deleting the account in front of them.  Avery was too young to understand, but Shawn and Noah needed to see I was choosing them over it.  We nervously joked for a few days about what would "break" me, causing me to reactivate my account, but the truth is, I've never looked back. It retrospect, it was a sigh of relief, a weight off my shoulders.  There are times now, with church, team sports and schools, I may occasionally wish I were back on, but in the end, I still know it is not the right thing to do.

Three years later, a dear friend had a baby, and suggested Instagram as an alternative to showing up on her doorstep each morning (who, me???)!  I was hesitant.  I did not want to end up giving this social media site the same power I've given Facebook.  I talked with Shawn about it, we prayed about it, and I finally signed up.  I'm quite active, but I have not given it the same power.  I can turn it off, shut it down and leave it.  I've learned to reign myself in, and I don't feel the need to post the rather unnecessary, revealing, daily drama-garbage I was posting on Facebook.  There are times I still overshare, but overall, whether it's because I've matured (wait, what?), I keep my audience more in mind, or because I have my blog as an outlet, I'm no longer letting it all hang out, as I used to. With Noah being a teenager now, I typically ask his permission before posting anything involving him, but I've also explained there are times I'm sharing from the mom point of view.  It does not rule my life (our lives) the same way Facebook did. There are a few complete strangers I've become good friends with, and can't live without.  Others, I can take or leave.  I've become emotionally attached to you, your children, your pets, your nature photos, your artwork.  I know your social media habits and worry when you don't post, or when you disappear.  I've even called the police in other states about two teens threatening suicide; I was able to track down their full names, schools and basic living areas by scrolling through their photos (parents, please speak to your kids about privacy--if I can find it, so can someone who isn't out to help).

Over time, there are things I've learned from social media:

Sometimes a selfie is more than just a selfie.  Sometimes it is a person taking that scary, giant step forward, putting her(him)self out there.  It's not always attention seeking.  Sometimes, a person is declaring, "I'm okay with who I am.  Today, I'm going to be brave."

Sometimes what looks like attention seeking behavior is actually just a person needing to be seen and heard.  To be able to say, "I'm human, this is what I'm dealing with," is huge.  The need to be able to identify with others, or to just let others know they aren't alone, is a pretty big deal.  For some, social media is their only outlet.  They may not live close to good friends, they may not have someone to have coffee with, they may not be able to get out of the house. Someone who posts a gazillion pictures of her children, daily life, and so on, may not necessarily have family, or even friends, to share those moments with.  It doesn't mean those moments don't deserve attention.  Again, there is the basic human need to be seen and heard.

The age old lesson: There are opinions and thoughts other than my own, and that's okay.  But, let's all get along, okay?

Once it's out there, you can't take it back.  It can now be shared millions of times over.  Thanks to screenshots, it can be printed and reprinted.  Nothing is sacred, and nothing is private.  It is a public domain, and can be used in a court of law.  If you wouldn't want your mom, your pastor, your husband or your kids to see it--don't post it.

Things aren't always what they appear to be.  The person with the best vacation photos, filtered selfies and posed family photos is suffering the most.  Bragging makes them feel better.  Comparing oneself to the Jones', and the subsequent jealousy, is rampant on social media.  Don't do that to yourself.

The enemy runs rampant on social media.  It is his playground.  Often his voice is disguised as God's, just as in life.  Guide your heart, your mind and your soul.

Social media destroys already weak marriages, and even some very strong ones.  Leave well enough alone.  You've got middle aged men and women looking up old flames, and just asking for trouble.  Social media destroys weak people through jealousy, anger and bitterness.  Teenagers, and even some adults, think it is the end of the world to be 'unfollowed' or not followed at all.  Don't let social media tell you who you are, or declare your worth.

Internet anonymity and the wrong ideas about free speech give 'permission' to people to say whatever they want.  People are cruel, and say some very wrong things.  People will say whatever they want, to whoever they want, about whatever they want, whenever they want.  We use social media to vent, to call attention to perceived slights and wrongdoings, to make fun of others, to name-call--but seldom do we use it for good.

There are good things to come from social media: People from far and wide, different cultures, different languages, different countries, have been able to connect and find much in common.  We've been able to come together to support one another in times of illness and child rearing, and through common interests.

Those are just a few things.  I'm sure if I sat around for a while, I could come up with a more comprehensive list. I'm sure you could give me some lessons you've learned, as well. I think these are some of the more important ones.  I'm going to end this post the way I end many of my posts: "Be kind, for everyone you know is fighting some kind of battle."  Keep that in mind next time you log on.

Lessons My Kids Teach Me

I started writing this Monday morning, after yet another crazy wake-up.  I told a friend this morning that it starts to feel like a war zone around here: We're just waiting for the next bomb (Avery's behavior) to go off.  Since I began this post, we've seen the pediatrician again, and added another med in addition to the one he's already been taking.  This one offers more 24 hour coverage, so it will cover the crazy mornings, and hopefully help his brain adjust better as the other medication wears off in the afternoons, rather than just pin balling around in his head, wreaking havoc.  Last night was his first night; he went to bed and stayed asleep without the usual issues, and this morning did not have the chaotic, frenetic quality his mornings usually have.  Praise God, I have hope!  This is the calmer life my child (family) deserves.

And now, back to the original post....

I know my kids were given to me to teach me so much more than I could ever hope to teach them.  All three of them certainly teach me just how little I really know about motherhood!  They each have different little lessons here and there, but for each child, there seems to be a primary lesson within him.  Daily, Noah teaches me more and more about myself, my own childhood and coping with life in general.  In Ezra's few months, he's taught me about humility, judgement of others, and that life seldom goes according to plan.

And Avery?  This child.  Ohhhh boy.

Avery teaches me patience and humility.  He teaches me that my way is not always the better way, and he reminds to step out of my comfort zone and think outside the box.

Daily.  Hourly.  Minute to minute.

What can I say?  We're in the midst of a lot of struggles right now, but Avery's always been my out of the box sort of child (ironic, considering Noah is the one with all the diagnoses!).  If there is a different way of doing things, even if it's more difficult, that's how he's going to do it.  He's always been our token extrovert, a struggle for this introverted family of socially awkward recluses.  When the rest of us are shutting down, he's just getting geared up.  Whereas Noah tends to avoid most sensory input, Avery is sensory-seeking.  He's always been my daredevil, my higher-faster-louder child. Looking back, I can see he was always meant to be the textbook middle child, just by the way he sees the world and interacts with it.

We're dealing with a lot of behavioral issues right now.  In hindsight, I know these are not new, they've just reached a crescendo of sorts.  He is struggling socially, and I see that anxiety affecting his extroversion and daredevil behaviors. Some of my favorite Avery qualities are suffering.  His anxiety is causing major mood swings, and a lot of anger. Avery can go from happy, to meltdown, back to happy, to grumpy, to excited and gearing up to out of control, to full on temper tantrum, to what qualifies for subdued, back to meltdown, all in a course of less than ten minutes.  One minute he is an absolute angel: Loving, giving, caring, thoughtful, snuggly, happy, easy to cherish.  The next minute it's 5 am and all hell is breaking loose throughout the upstairs of my home as he wakes up and greets his day.  I go to bed praying the next morning will somehow be different--I will have more patience and have had more sleep (Dear Ezra, I love you and I love seeing your sweet, smiling face, but Mommy needs sleep...), something will click with Avery and he will suddenly understand how his behavior affects all of us--you know, a miracle.  I feel like Bill Freaking Murray in Groundfreakinghog Day.  Know what I'm saying? There are times Shawn and I have to tag out and tag the other one in, and times that counting to ten (over and over and over) just isn't enough.

This is what I do know about raising Avery: I'm the one who needs to adjust.  I'm the mom, I'm the one who needs to keep it together to get him (us) through this.

Catch My Cares

We frequently listen to 'Jesus music' in our home (when we aren't indoctrinating our children in 80's hair bands...).  It's usually on in the kitchen and in the car.  Avery loves to sing along, and I love hearing him praise our Father.  Frequently, if I change the station, he will ask me to change it back, telling me, "We need more Jesus, Mom!"  Indeed.

The other day he was singing one of his favorite songs, "Cast My Cares," but he was singing "Catch my cares." As the song ended, Avery lowered his head, raised his hands, and whispered an exuberant, "A-MEN."

The song states, "I will cast my cares on You."  I tried correcting Avery when he was finished, but he wasn't having it.

"No, Mom.  It's definitely 'catch my cares.'  See, I throw my cares at God and He catches them for me.  Then He takes care of them."

How can I argue with that?  Clearly, the band is wrong here, and Avery is correct. God does indeed catch our cares.  All we have to do is let go of them.

Sing on, dear boy.  Sing on.

Baby Drool and Car Pools

Please don't misunderstand this post.  I'm incredibly grateful I get to be home with my kids.  I know how blessed we are that Shawn's income allows us this luxury with very few sacrifices.  And yes, I understand it is a luxury, because I know there are plenty of parents who would rather be home, but don't have the option to make that choice.  It's very rewarding, and I'm glad to do it.

There are times though, it can get a little tedious. Car pools, drool, diapers, temper tantrums, play dates, sports and school--there's only so much I can talk to others about it before even I start yawning.  I'm grateful for the moms group I'm part of, but again--there's only so much we can talk about some times.

When Avery was a toddler, there were things I wanted to do to expand my own world. It felt as though everyone but me was out getting a life.  Every opportunity was met with a road block of one kind or another, however.  I lashed out, became resentful towards Shawn and the kids, and couldn't understand why God kept saying "no."  I couldn't see past the present, to the possibility He had something greater in mind.  Because I was so busy yelling, I couldn't hear Him telling me to be patient.

Flash forward another year or two, and after some serious soul searching, I realized motherhood is where I belong.  This is my here and now, and that's what God was telling me.  Those other endeavors would've taken me away from my children and the attention they need.

Then, my time came.... God did indeed have something better in mind for me.

Last year I was given the opportunity to go back to school through an online program.  This allows me the time I need with my family, the ability to schedule my own work, and enrich myself while still being a full time mom.

That was a long way to get my point.  Last month I saw my doctor about my worsening depression and anxiety.  Together, we made a list of my top stressors, both positive and negative, along with what can go and what couldn't, what I needed to change/add (helloooooo diet and exercise), what I could control and what I needed to let go of because it is beyond my control.  At the top of my stressor list was school, but it was also at the top of the list of things that I need to keep in my life.  At times, it can be stressful.  Three weeks ago when I lost a research paper I'd been working on for several weeks, I wanted to throw in the towel.  After all, it will be years before I finish this degree, and even longer before I'm able to use it professionally, so what's the point?  The point is--I need to do this.  This is for me.  Just me.  Sure, I want my kids to see the value of continued education, I want them to see my value beyond just being their mom, blah blah blah--but when I get down to it, I'm selfish.  I'm doing this for myself because I need to.  I like being able to have something (valuable) to discuss at dinner besides how many times Ezra pooped, and what I saw on social media.

I love my children more than life itself.  They are my gifts and I wouldn't trade this life for anything.  But school?  School is about loving myself.