Multiplying Love

"Your heart just grows; doubles in size," people told me before I was a mom of two. How is this even possible? Skepticism took over and this piece of mom advice was not well received. After settling into the world of more than one kid, I was prepared to feel bad that I loved one kid more. You have to love one a little bit more. I mean your heart can't split the love you have for your first, so it's equal; it just doesn't work that way. People who tell you the love is equal just love one kid more and can't admit it.

I don't like being wrong, but I will admit when I am… Your heart does grow. I have so much love for these two little ones, it's amazing. One of my favorite times of the day is when the house is silent at night. Of course I love this time because it's peaceful and I can have some "me" time, but I love to think about the day I shared with these little ones. The tears, laughs, comments, moments, memories, that made our day what it was. Before this though, even better, is checking on these two and praying over them. Praying that they will fulfill the purpose God has for them. Praying that sickness and disease will not affect their bodies. Recapping the day as I stare at their little sleeping bodies… the moments of what the day brought; good and bad.

Looking at Jonah and wondering how he could be so pleasant all day without sleeping for more than 10 minutes at a time. Thinking back to when Samuel accidentally hit him with the end of the broom as we were sweeping the garage and how his one minute of wailing seemed to never end.

Looking at Samuel and remembering when he offered me his last bagel chip from his Chex Mix snack bag. Thinking to the tears when he hit Jonah with the broom. "I was just trying to help."

This is what is important. These little faces. Being a mom is such a journey, and I'm so grateful these two are my passengers. #momlife #bestlife

Pumping Sucks

Since most of the last few months have revolved around boobs, I want to keep it going with this post. While juggling everything and everyone on my plate, I also juggle a little one on my boobs. I am a food source to little baby Jonah, and hope to be for the next few months, #milkwilling. It fascinates me to look at my baby boy and think my body can create the nutrients he needs to sustain life. As beneficial and amazing as nursing is, Tina Fey said it best with, "Pumping sucks."

Carrying "Patty the Pump" with me every day has been a routine since going back after maternity leave. Assessing all of my work stuff, it's always, "Patty, work bag, lunch, and water." Patty is my passenger to and from work, and her favorite color is black. After work it's a race against time as she has to be chilled from her 98.6 degree temp. I feel like I'm carrying a heart or other organ in a cooler as I race home to pop em' bottles  pop the bottles, I mean… in the fridge.

Pumping, boobs, and E-cards…what do they all have in common? Well, the start to a pretty awkward conversation/relationship with my boss this year.

Flashback to Christmas time… I'm trying to find the usual Office calendar I buy my dad every year. The past two years have been a collaboration of "funniest" lines from the show. I guess they had to stop production some time, since there are no new episodes, and 2015 was the year. E-cards on social media are pretty funny. Appropriate enough for a dad gift, but inappropriate enough to replace the Office calendar and be comical.

So.. having a new boss this year, and with his reference of loving "The Office" and "Seinfeld", I also thought this was a good choice for a "Welcome to our Building" "Merry Christmas from sweet little old me" gift.

I called my dad after the new year to chat, January 3rd actually. "The calendar you bought me is a little risqué, you know."  #dropthephone   I just about fainted as my dad read the sweet little message on the calendar:

Not only is my dad reading this over the phone, #awkward but my BOSS is reading this on January 3rd, thinking I'm some weirdo for buying him this weird calendar gift #uberawkward


So, it is now after Christmas break and we are back at work. Every morning when I wake up, I think, oh no, what does the calendar read today?  Well, another January beauty was:

I knew I had to say something, ANYTHING, to address this horrible gift I bought. Here I am, trying to be nice, and it totally backfired, and on the back burner is the thought of my dad reading these too… #ugh

I saw boss in the hall one day and he screamed, "Natalie!"  Oh geez, here it is, my time to apologize.
He was very discrete and said, "The room upstairs is available to use if you need." AKA, we just had a one second convo about my pumping room…aka…boobs. Why did he remember to tell me this? #ecardcalendar

A week later I saw him again, bit the bullet and said super awkwardly, "Yah, so this may feel like an Office moment, the conversation that is about to ensue, (insert awkward silence, laughter, probably a boob sound)." Then I went on to explain the calendar I usually get my dad, and how he told me some of the jokes and I feel so bad and maybe to just throw it away (insert more awkwardness).
"That's okay, my wife and I just put it in our bedroom, away from the kids."
#amioncamera

A month later, I was in his office talking about a workshop (missing my pumping time) and after leaving his office (and talking about Jonah with him), I thought the water bottle I was holding had leaked on the bottom of my shirt. Upon looking down, I looked something like this:

                         Except it was both boobs, and running the whole way down my shirt.

Lessons learned:    Choose boss gifts more carefully, wear pads because you WILL leak, and keep nursing…it's totes worth it. :)

I'm Sorry If…That Was Me….

Love these little sweethearts!

As 32 is fast approaching (yikes), I appreciate the life experiences and people who have helped me along the way. I watch Samuel observe people and take in situations, and conversations. I hope I'm a little more subtle without the gawking and jaw dropping antics he displays. This post has been on my heart for awhile, and I am so thankful for situations I've worked through, God's grace, and the people who are in my life.

This post is for people who I have watched go through trials and tribulations, only to find years later, that many of these situations would be me.

I'm sorry if  as I saw you running, I mumbled something less than kind under my breath. Scoffing at your pace and how painful it looked for you to put one foot in front of the other. Thinking, ugh I hope I never run that slow…..

That was me….. after I had Samuel, after I had Jonah. Clumsily trying to regain my footing as a runner, post-baby. One step felt like one hundred. Five minutes felt like fifty. Hurting knees, joints, feet, chest, ego. Something I once loved, became a daunting task.

"Keep going; it will get easier."

I'm sorry if I downplayed the loss you experienced. If I turned the conversation on me as you were spilling a rawness you probably didn't even know existed until that moment someone so important to you, was gone.

That was me… nineteen and without a mom. When my whole body felt like it was drying up because I had cried out every tear in my body.

"It will get easier. Pray, rest, pray, rest. That person is always with you. It's not something you 'get over' it's something you learn to live with."

I'm sorry if you said you were going through a rough time in your marriage and I wasn't a listening ear, but said something to dismiss it.

That was me…. ring off, decision made, door closed. When the foundation of my world came crashing down. When I saw long hours at work as missed time and in me brewed a level of resentment I didn't know existed. Instead of being thankful for a hard-working and providing husband; I was done.

"Divorce is not an option." "What God has brought together, let no man separate."

I'm sorry if you said you didn't breastfeed and my reaction was anything other than supportive.

I read an article about postpartum psychosis which gave me a totally different perspective about women post-baby. Another girl I spoke with said shortly after giving birth to her son, her dad passed away and she was so stressed, she physically couldn't nurse. Who am I to form an opinion about you based on your decision to nourish your child? 

I'm sorry if I saw you at a restaurant or store with your child and he/she was crying, screaming, whining, fighting, running, (and so many other things).  I rolled my eyes, or didn't get the door, smile at you, make that moment a little easier….

You learn through your mistakes, experiences, and people. 

Thank God for forgiveness. 

"Always be kind, for everyone is fighting a hard battle." -Plato 

Mommies, friends, wives, sisters. If you are going through a tough time, keep pushing through. 

A peak is on the other side of your valley.

Surviving Preschool

    So today was the last party for Samuel's first year of preschool. Just a few more weeks and he will be a 3-year old grad! #pompandcircumstance. 
I wish I had a handbook to guide me through this first year as there were a few hiccups along the way. 
Here is what I learned what to do/not to do. #ifpreschoolwashardformewhatwillkindergartenbring

This was literally me at so many points this year… but instead of it saying "LSAT"
on the cover it said, "Preschool for Dummies"

DO:

*Be a nicey to all the preschool moms. Even when one of them interrogates you about your selected craft and you want to scream, "I'M A TEACHER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, I can handle this." Because she may just compliment you and tell you how impressed she is once she sees the kids in action. 

*Buy school pictures! I almost missed out on this gem: 

Me:  "Samuel, how were pictures today?"
Samuel:  "Good, but I think I smiled funny."

*Ask your child about their new friends and the songs they sing. From August-January we only talked about snack, but finally I started to get some info. :)

*Tell your child how proud of them you are with their report card:

#whatitsallabout

*Buy a ridiculously overpriced book bag for your youngin, because clearly that is indicative of what kind of year it will be.

I know, I know, it has his name on it and that's a no no.

DON'T:

*Assume your child will be okay if you just "pop-in" on a given day for a story, then head back to work. You will have a screaming tot and a broken heart.


*Freak out if and when your child freaks out as you spent all hours of the night preparing, buying, making things for the next day's party. I've seen tears, hair pulling, and screaming  (yes, all my sweet boy).


*Freak out if your craft, snack, etc. isn't Pinterest worthy. Pinterest is a farse where time doesn't exist. Cut yourself a break. :)

*Throw away all fundraising information that doesn't seem appealing. You may just throw away lottery raffle tickets, that may just cost $25.00 each. So you may be eating the $50. Just saying.

*Panic when the preschool teacher starts recounting stories your child tells while at school. "My mommy pumps her milk in a locker at her work for my baby brother to drink."  #pumpingprobs  #traumatizingmytoddler   C'mon Samuel, it's not a locker, it's a storage closet son! 

*Show up on days when preschool is cancelled (I may have done this once or twice).

The Day My Life Stopped-and Restarted

One of my favorite pictures of my mom and I 

Sweet child

I miss you Mom. There are so many things you have missed. Last night, when Jonah tried sweet potatoes for the first time, I wanted to call you. Last Monday, when, I was struggling (horribly) with the whole working mom thing…and I needed advice, your advice, … I needed  you. Tomorrow marks twelve years. Twelve long years, without you. Within those years, there has been much celebration, joy, blessings, abundance, but then its coupled with loss. I've tried to fill that void with so many things. It doesn't get easier, you don't get over it, you don't move on, you just learn how to live without that person. 

So as I sit here dreading every February, every February 24th, I think about how many other people- working, living, existing, near me, have their own day. (I always hope that on February 23rd, a camera crew, my mom, and all kinds of other people will come to me like a Truman Show moment, telling me how I've basically been taped all this time; that it hasn't been real).  A haunting, troubling, sad, life-changing day. I think about this as I see people lose patience in the store with a cashier, people who are so angry, you can practically see it pouring out of them. I have wanted to take their hand, pray, and say, "You will be okay. I'm sad too. I'm angry, hurt, discouraged, but despite the loss, and all those feelings, I'm okay. My life stopped, but it's started again."

At times I feel like everyone forgets about this day and what significance it has… How can people keep living the day my life stopped? This question affected me and really bothered me for awhile. 

But guess what? Everyone has their own stuff. Some people can lug their baggage around in a carry on, and others could have an entourage of people behind them pulling their suitcases. That's life. People I know have lost parents at a younger age than me. Friends have miscarried and haven't experienced that sweet baby. Close family and friends have divorced. Life happens. 

Somehow, on February 25th, 2003, I managed to get out of bed. The day after my world came crashing down, God gave me strength to keep living.  Every February since that horrible day, God has helped me find strength (sometimes in the depth of my soul) to keep going. My life stopped, but then it restarted. 

I really want to think that at least 350-ish days, I handle this loss well. I don't want people to look at me and know what I've gone through based on me seeming depressed or sad. That doesn't mean I won't share how I'm feeling, and how heart broken I still feel at times, BUT I don't want this to define me. 

I want Samuel and Jonah and hopefully many more babies to be happy and filled up, instead of around a depressed, moping mom…how fun and fair would that be for them?

So tomorrow I will do what I know to cope-pray,exercise, talk to my dad, hug my babies and Josh extra tight. I will let myself be sad, mad, angry, grateful, nostalgic, and teary. I remember my mom and all that she was, all the memories I still treasure, and always will.