Just some bits of it

I had a hard time hitting "publish" on my post two days ago.  If you normally read my blog by following the Facebook link I usually put up, you might notice I didn't put it up on Facebook.

Why is it so hard to admit we're not okay?

I've spent some time over the past little while thinking about this.  For me, it's a couple of reasons.  First, there's something about being that vulnerable with people that I'm just not good at.  Most of the people who read my blog are people who know me in real life, family or friends.  And for some reason, (which may take further pondering), I would rather pour out all the messy bits of my life in front of complete strangers rather than people I see face to face every day.

Then I was convicted by a post from Ann Voskamp about how as bloggers, we need to be willing to share the messy bits of our lives because it helps both the writer and the reader to heal, and I had to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there might be someone in my meager following that needs to hear that someone they actually know in real life doesn't have it all together -- that there's someone out there who feels the same way they do.

And it made me feel a little better about hitting "publish" on that post, but not better enough to go put it up on Facebook because frankly, being vulnerable is hard.

The other part of admitting we're not okay, admitting it to ourselves.  And I think that's about all I'm going to say on that for now because I've been trying for the past 15 minutes to come up with a way to explain why it's so hard for me to admit maybe I can't handle this anymore, and none of the words are coming out right.

Which is maybe a sign of how much I really need to get on the stick about admitting how not okay it really is.

And more sleep would help...

Oh, and this is my 300th post.  How cool is that?  I had hoped it would be something a little more upbeat, but, well, this is where life is at right now.

Coming clean

It's been a rough few weeks around here.

It started when Nathan had a growth spurt right around Thanksgiving.  So he started waking up more at night.  And then he caught a cold.  Babies with colds aren't fun, especially when they use a soother to fall asleep because they can't suck and breathe at the same time when their nose is plugged.  Then I caught the cold, which just made me feel even more exhausted and crummy from having to blow my nose all the time.

Of course, just when I started Nathan on a warming socks treatment which helped him to sleep better at night, then Kaylee caught the cold.  Except hers went straight to her chest and she wound up with an extremely painful cough that kept her up at night.

She is finally over the worst of it, and I got in one night of "decent"-ish, somewhat back to normal sleep from Nathan before Reuben decided his cough needed to develop into something a bit worse, and he had to have his turn waking Mommy up at all wee hours of the morning.

I'd be lying if I didn't say that all this lack of sleep and fighting off sickness hasn't affected my already somewhat fragile mental status.  The reason I haven't been posting lately is just as much because I haven't had the desire to, and not just because I can't find the time while caring for three kids instead of two.  It's hard to tell if the fog I feel I related to lack of sleep or something else.

Can you see me avoiding the word post-partum depression?  Can you?  Can you?  Because I'm not sure I'm ready to say that's what this is yet.  For now, I'm just really tired.  But it's on my radar, and I hate that.  It feels a bit like I'm losing the battle I've been fighting ever since Nathan was born, take my supplements, make sure I get time for myself, try to get enough sleep (whoever says sleep when the baby sleeps obviously didn't have other children...)

So I get up each morning, dark and early, and I daily rely on God's strength to get me out of bed.  Literally.  We had a discussion in my women's Bible study group about starting the day with prayer, and some of them tell about how they wake up and say, "Good morning God!" all cheerful like and have a nice prayer.  My morning prayer: "Oh God, get me out of bed."  And so far, somehow every morning I get out of bed.

More sleep would help to make that easier.

...and as a side note, this morning as I'm writing this is following a night of particularly bad sleep, which always makes my mood worse.  If I sound particularly miserable, it's because today I'm feeling particularly miserable.  But for the record, not all days are this bad.  And sometimes just writing about the bad days can make things seem not so dim...

I'll try not to take so long to post again...

Of tired mornings and thankfulness for coffee...

The morning dawns a new day.  I wake to my alarm, but just barely.  Today is one of the few blessed mornings where all the kids stay sleeping long enough for me to have a 45-minute stretch of alone quiet time. 

I can barely keep my eyes open to read the daily chapter from the book our church is going through as part of a 40 Days of Love series.

I'm not kidding.  I am THAT tired.  I don't think I have ever had such a hard time trying to stay awake to read something.  My eyes kept crossing, and I struggled to focus on the page.  My morning prayers are echos, "Give me strength.  Keep me awake.  Help me to be patient through the tired."

I should be working -- I have a file to proof that's due by mid-day Pacific time (thank the Lord for contracts with companies based on the West coast!).  Instead, I pour my coffee and turn to blogs for a bit of inspiration for the day.  I love this blog, with the music playing in the background and for once today I plug in the headphones and listen instead of hitting mute and my heart feels for a change instead of staying numb in the exhaustion, and even though the posts are long, I read to the very end because her words always resonate deep down in those hard places.

One by one, the kids wake up and join me.  This quiet time for myself (and my coffee!) have done its work, and I am ready to get into the busy-ness of the day.  I call on His strength, and as always, He provides.

Going out in the rain...with kids...

Murphy's Law of Running Errands with Children: on a day when you absolutely have to leave the house for some type of errand, ie. doctor's appointment, groceries because your cupboards are bare or you forgot an important ingredient, library because your books or videos are overdue, any other essential errand that needs to be run, guaranteed, it will be pouring rain.

I can name probably at least three situations in the last two months where I've had to leave the house with all three kids, and it has been pouring rain.  I'm pretty sure the examples I listed were the exact reasons as well.  Doctor's appointment, essential groceries, and library books being overdue. 

Case in point, today, yet again, I had plans to head out to the library this morning with the kiddos (not as essential of a visit because I returned the videos earlier this week and the books aren't due till next week), but the kids always like having videos in the house instead of always watching TV (and I don't mind being a little more selective in their entertainment choices).  Of course, it is raining. 

And is it ever raining.  The kind of rain where I'm going to get really annoyed at how slowly my kids get into the van because even though they have umbrellas and can just hop in with relative dryness, my umbrella is broken, and I'll have to stand there with my backside out in the elements whilst I buckle them all into their seats.  Ick.  Time to rethink the white t-shirt I picked out to wear this morning.

And of course, I was lazy last night and didn't put out the garbage and recycling.  I said to myself, "Oh, I'll just do it in the morning."  Boy was that dumb.  Now I have to go put it out in the rain.  *sigh*  That's what I get for procrastinating...

Hello Mornings

I've been doing a new thing with my mornings.  It's called the Hello Mornings challenge, and basically, you make a point of waking up early, and you do morning quiet time, plan your day, and theoretically, exercise before everyone else gets up.  Given the early hour that my children wake, this means I have to get up by 5:45 just to fit in my Bible study and make a quick list of what we're going to do in the day.  At this stage in life, exercise is just not going to happen.  That would mean I'd have to get up by 5:00, and since I'm still waking up once or twice with Nathan in the night, that is an unrealistic goal.  As it is, 5:45 is pretty rough.

I've done pretty well with the 5:45 so far.  Some mornings, I actually get 20 min to half an hour before any of the kids get up.  Other mornings, one or more are up about 5 min after the alarm, and one morning, Reuben and Kaylee decided to get up at 5:30, even before the alarm went off -- not sure what happened that day.

In just two short weeks of doing this, I've now come to really appreciate the few minutes of quiet that I get before everyone else wakes up.  It helps me to feel more intentional about my day and not just reacting in the moments.

Of course, with Reuben starting school tomorrow, morning routines will change yet again.  But hopefully, if I can stick with getting up early, it will be a fairly smooth transition.

Oh life and it's seasons...

The Big, Fat Caterpillar

My mum is obsessed with Eric Carle books.  (Sorry, Mum, it's true.)  Not that this is a bad thing.  It just means that my kids have received a number of Eric Carle books over the years, and we've amassed quite a collection.  They happen to be great books for kids.  A favourite of Reuben's has always been "The Very Hungry Caterpillar", and he actually had the book memorized at a very young age.  I'm not sure if he still does; maybe one of these days I'll pull it out again and find out.

Anyway, I digress.  Today, I found the very hungry caterpillar in my garden.  Except, he was not a tiny and very hungry caterpillar.  He was a big, fat caterpillar.

See for yourself...

The Big, Fat Caterpillar

Apparently, instead of just eating through one nice, green leaf, he decided to eat through a whole bunch of nice green leaves, like the ones on my tomato plants.  And he took a few bites out of some nice red tomatoes as well...

 I don't know how well you can see in this picture, but this is a tomato plant that's had all of it's leaves eaten off.  I now have the answer as to what's plaguing my tomato plants.

Suffice to say, it gave me a bit of a jolt when I was out picking tomatoes this afternoon and reached down to lift up the tomato plant and grabbed that not-so-little guy.  I mean, I've seen some caterpillars in my life, but none quite like this one, and I've certainly never touched any like this.  It gives me the creepy-crawlies just thinking about it...

In other news, the basil and parsley I planted in one of my barrels has taken over.  Take a look:

I really need to get around to making some more of the Herbed Garlic Butter I made last year.  And more bruschetta.  And anything else I can think of that needs basil.  If anyone wants some fresh basil, I've got more than enough to share.  Let me know...

Life goes too fast

It's amazing how time flies.  I had so many good intentions to write posts more frequently, and then somehow, I end up busy, and before I know it, it's been two weeks since my last post.

Nathan is over six weeks old already.  When all the stars align, (which for a baby means that he's just woken up and isn't tired, he's been fed and has a clean diaper), you just might get lucky and coax a smile out of him.  It's pretty doggone cute.  Reuben and Kaylee seem to think that any facial expression that isn't crying is a smile, and Reuben frequently makes comments about Nathan's various baby noises that Nathan has just said something "like a real human".  Kids are hilarious, especially with babies.

Reuben starts school in four weeks.  I assume anyway.  We haven't had the official word yet if the SK students start right on time with everyone else or if they stagger them in or how that all works.  It's a little mind-blowing that my little boy is heading off to school.  It's a bittersweet moment when I actually manage to find the time to sit and think about it, which isn't often.  (In fact, most of the time I forget it's happening.)

Am I supposed to be excited that it won't be my job to keep him entertained anymore?  But at the same time, I know that school changes people, and he's going to be influenced by so much more than just the things in our little home, and wow, I am so grateful that we're sending him to a Christian school so I at least have that reassurance behind what those influences are going to be.

I find myself wanting to do more things one on one with each of the kids, but struggling with such an immense lack of time and opportunity because they all need me to be there all the time.  I go grocery shopping with just Kaylee and me pretty regularly, but Reuben hates getting groceries, so I need to find something to do with just him and me, hopefully before school starts.  I'm thinking maybe I just might be able to convince him to come shopping if I tell him it's for his school supplies and bribe him with Tim Horton's when we're finished.

Anyway, it's now two hours since I typed this post up, and I somehow managed to get myself so distracted that I didn't just wrap this up and hit "Publish".  So that's what I'm doing now... 

Because I need a nap more than you need a real post

I wanted to write a good post tonight.  All the elements of a great time for writing are in place: the kids are sleeping (Nathan in his Moses basket on the couch beside me), I've got some classical music playing on the TV (to help Nathan sleep), I've got wine on the counter that is calling for me to pour a glass, and Tim won't be home from work for another hour.

But I am so very, very tired.  I'd forgotten how tiring it is to be woken up multiple time in the night to feed an infant, even if I do feed that infant while lying down and usually doze off while doing so.  I look forward to the days when Nathan gets down to that one 4AM feeding instead of maybe doing one long stretch during the evening and then being up every 3 hours till morning.

So instead of a nice post, you get this very boring little blurb of me telling me you're not getting a real post tonight.

And I'm going to lay down on the couch and take a nap until Tim gets home.

His plan, not mine

One week before Nathan was born, I was transferred from midwife care to the care of an OB.  My platelets tend to run low while I'm pregnant, which puts me at a higher risk for postpartum hemorhage.  We'd been consulting with the OB over the past eight months, but in my last month of pregnancy, the numbers dropped low enough that the official transfer became necessary, as well as a consult with a hematologist (doctor specializing in blood disorders).

Unfortunately, I found out about the transfer when my midwife called me on my cell phone as I was sitting in the OB's office for a routine update appointment.  Her timing could have been a little better.  I was pregnant and hormonal; how else could I react but with tears?  I ended up crying my way through the appointment, trying to wrap my head around how my labour and delivery experience was about to change now that I was under the care of an OB.  I now hadn't the faintest idea what to expect, nor did I even really know what to do.  Having been with midwives for the births of our first two children, I wasn't used to the whole concept of having to deal with hospital staff and specifying my wishes for a natural birth and all that stuff.  This post isn't really about all that, but let me just say that in the end, the experience really is completely different, and I was very thankful that in the end I was able to have my midwife there at the hospital for supportive care.

Back to the point.  I went home from the appointment that day feeling pretty miserable and lost.  All the expectations that I'd had for the birth of our third child were changing.  I felt completely thrown for a loop and didn't know how to wrap my head around what was going to happen now.  My plans had to change, and I was having a hard time accepting that fact.

And then God came and reminded me of the truth: yes, my plans had to change, but His plans didn't.  This was His plan all along, and His plans are always for my good.  He knew this was going to happen the whole time, even if I didn't.  He is in control, even when I feel like life is spinning around me.

I found myself repeating that phrase to myself frequently over the next week before Nathan was born, "His plan, not mine."  I'll be honest and say that as I look back on the whole experience, I don't really know what the good was in having to be switched to an OB as Nathan's labour and delivery was about as uncomplicated as it gets.

Or then again, maybe the whole point was to learn this valuable lesson, that we can plan our lives all we want, but we are not the ones in control; it's God who plans our lives, and He always knows what to expect, even when we don't.

My eReader

This is my Kobo.

I got a Kobo. 

I know.  It's almost a sacrilege.  I actually bought an eReader.  But before you take me out back and read me the riot act for doing something so crazy, hear me out. 

When you have kids, an eReader is actually extremely handy.  As in, I can now borrow books from the library without leaving my house.  Have you ever tried browsing the library with two small children in tow?  And I mean literally in tow.  The last time I tried to find a book for myself at the library, Reuben and Kaylee decided it would be a fun time to pretend that they were my new shoes.  So they latched themselves onto my legs, and I had to try and walk with two cling-ons attached.  Not my idea of how to find a book at the library.  With my new eReader, I don't have to do this anymore.  I can sit on my couch with my laptop and browse the library from the comfort of my living room.  It's wonderful.

Also, when you are nursing an infant, it is much easier to read when you don't need a second hand free to turn pages.  In fact, I don't even have to hold the book at all.  I can just leave the Kobo on my leg or on the arm of the chair or next to me on the couch and tap on it occasionally to turn the page.  No more trying to awkwardly turn a page while holding a baby.  No more worrying about losing my spot when I put the book down because the pages are going to flip over without me holding my spot or putting in a bookmark.  Very, very handy.

Anyway, I'm not trying to make you all go out and buy yourselves eReaders.  In fact, I have no intention of changing my book purchasing habits just because I have one.  There's still nothing quite like the smell of a new book, and reading a book with the actual pages in your hands is a completely different experience from reading it on an eReader.  Besides which, there are many books that don't come in e-format.  But at this stage in my life, I have a definite appreciation for this new technology, and I'm thrilled with my purchase so far.