August: getting back to simple living.

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As a family, we've decided to take the month of August to simplify our lives even further, to cut back on spending and get back to the simple, wonderful things that make life worth living. We've already been eating cleaner thanks to our first completed Whole30, which we're both continuing to do for the most part.  But now we're feeling led to tackle other areas like TV/movie consumption, financial spending, and just how we spend our time in general. 

Technology is helpful, but I don't want our family to be defined by it.  There are so many other things that are important to us: embracing time outside in nature, savoring the simple gifts of childhood like reading books together, making crafts, digging in the dirt, and running through a sprinkler.  I want my children to be able to find ways to play on their own (or with us) without a TV, phone, or Kindle being involved.

Here's what we've committed to for the month of August:

No TV/movie/Netflix watching at all.  Let's be honest, this is probably going to be the hardest on mama, not because I like to watch TV (I rarely do), but because I absolutely use TV/Netflix as a crutch to keep my 4-year-old busy when I need a break.  I'm pretty stringent about her only watching shows like those on PBS Kids or other classics like Richard Scarry's Busytown, Little Bear, and Strawberry Shortcake.  And I'm not some kind of supermom who thinks I should be able to parent 100% of the time without using media, but I do think we need to cut it out for a month just to take a step back and re-evaluate.  This will open the door back up to more creative play, more often.  For instance, our babysitter Rachel who comes twice a week has a strict no-TV-watching policy while she's with any kids she's babysitting.  You wouldn't believe the creations she and Luci Belle come up with - a "dollhouse" made of cardboard and recycling scraps, a secret hideaway made from a carseat box, and a super hero tissue paper cape.

No technology while eating, nursing, or bathing.  We've gotten into the bad habit of answering texts while at the dinner table and allowing our oldest daughter to eat her lunch while watching a show.  I've picked up my phone to check Instagram while nursing as my precious wide-eyed 6-month old is looking up at me playing with my hair.   And the other night, I took my phone with me to take a bath.  Seriously?  This is not okay.

Cook and share meals at home.  We haven't been eating out much since Whole30, but this will also eliminate the several-times-weekly trips to Whole Foods to get my daughter pepperoni pizza from the hot bar.  We know how to make an awesome homemade crust ourselves, so instead we're going to have a fun pizza-making fest here at home and freeze them for later.  Or spend some time on the patio at our own business, Urban Acres, and eat some of our awesome artisan pizza.

Be outside. Yes, August is absolutely sweltering in Texas, pretty unbearable unless you're near water.  So we're either going to find water, just sweat it out, or hunker down inside.  I'd like to see more family walks this month, then a run through the sprinkler when we get home.

Read more books.  After the children are in bed, Steven tends to veg out watching a movie on Netflix, and I join him mindlessly or work on some writing/creative stuff.   At the same time, I have, like, 6 books going and can't seem to finish any of them.  I hope to fix that in the month of August!  And I know my husband will benefit from getting back to reading more.

So here are the books I'm currently reading that I'd like to finish:

Um yeah, so 7 books.

~ ~ ~

We've already started preparing Luci Belle for a month without TV and have been talking about all the things that are better than it, anyway.  Tonight, we're making a list of all the things we're going to do in August instead of watch shows.  I can only imagine the ways this is going to change our family.

And I don't know if this is weird, but I actually feel giddy about this.  Probably because it stirs what's deep in my soul, what I want my life and family to be about, and what I know is healthiest for us. 

They say that "transparency creates accountability," so now that it's out there, there's no turning back.  August, let's do this!

She's four.

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How has it possibly been four years?  Four years since I became a mama on a hot July day.  Four years of her joyful, spunky personality.

Four years of being stretched and challenged and sanctified in ways I could only imagine before I had children.  Four years of the hardest, and most rewarding, work I've ever done.

I'm not gonna lie, age 3 was more difficult for us than age 2.  But with it came so many moments of wonder as her imagination took flight.  I can't remember a day when she didn't make us stop in our tracks with one of her creative and insightful observations.

The other morning while playing with clay...

Luci Belle: "UGHHHHH!"
Me: "Take a deep breath.  Let's not get frustrated."
LB: "OK.  Because Jesus is in our house, right Mommy?"
Me: {kinda surprised but delighted} "Yes!  Where did you learn that?"
LB: "In my heart, remember?"

Happy four years, Luci Isabelle.  We're so thankful for your precious spirit-filled life!

From fear to faith.

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My childhood summers were filled with one of the most wonderful pastimes - swimming all day, navigating the underwater crystally caverns, eating popsicles in the sun, drying off on a towel and eating snacks as the sun became lower in the sky. 

My swim teacher, Sharon, was a cute high-schooler with a short feathery hairdo and bright smile. As a young child, I thought the older lifeguards were practically celebrities, and my one-on-one swim lessons with Sharon were treasured times.  I felt so special when on the last day of swim lessons, she gave me her lifeguard whistle, which I still have to this day.

Now, my heart quickens to see almost-4-year-old Luci Belle learning to navigate the water, becoming a little fish in her own right.  This past week, she overcame a huge hurdle and learned to swim.  Before swim lessons started, my daughter wouldn't even allow a single drop of water to touch her face during bathtime.  She loved to swim in the pool but only with floaties on her arms.  I knew this was going to be a rough lesson to learn, but an essential one - for safety purposes if none other. 

When we arrived at swim instructor Mrs. Angie's pool on day one, she utterly panicked and clung to me, screaming.  It was all I could do to remind myself that this was a step my daughter needed to take without me.  I had to hand her over into the {loving, capable} arms of Mrs. Angie and step away.

From behind the tinted windows of Mrs. Angie's livingroom, I could see the pool but hear nothing.  Over the next few days, it was like I was watching a silent movie of my daughter moving from fear to faith.

The crocodile tears as she was reluctantly carried around the pool.

Then, the tears stopped flowing.

Tentatively sticking her chin in the water, then the rest of her face.

Being pulled up by strong arms to gasp for air.

The full body submersion, the kicking and reaching.

The smiles as she re-emerged and saw photos of herself underwater.

The look of hope and focus in her eyes as she tried her first jump.

Squeals of joy as she jumped off the side with abandon.

Confidence, empowerment, joy.

Because once you know how to navigate the waters, it's not scary under there; it's beautiful.

At the end of day two, she was already swimming freestyle across the pool, underwater, by herself.  I could hardly believe my eyes. 

Seeing her learn to swim brings back so many sweet memories for me.  It's so exciting to see her enter this new stage of childhood.

Now, she asks everyday if we can go swimming.  In the pool at a friend's house yesterday afternoon, she beckoned me over to where she was splashing around on the steps.  She said, "Mommy, come look!  It's magical under here!" as she dunked her face underwater without hesitation.  I smiled and swam over and joined her, because yes, I do know it's magical under there.  And I couldn't be happier to join her underwater and see for myself.

My daughter's leap of faith has led to freedom.  And this past week she's taught me more about courage, about taking risks, and about looking for the beauty that's just beneath the surface - if only you'll have the courage to jump in.

Mother's Day and imperfection.

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Mother's Day pancake breakfast tradition ~ last year // this year

This Mother's Day, in a quiet moment on the couch eating blueberry pancakes served by my oldest daughter, I had a glimpse of her as a big girl, and my heart exploded a little. 

I don't even remember how she went from barely speaking words to us having full conversations about thing like "where do fairies live?", "what makes cars go?"  and "what's it like to live in africa?"

And this year, I feel even more heavily the weight of time passing.  A few weeks ago, on our first morning of homeschool, I announced it was snack time, and Luci Belle dashed out of the playroom into the kitchen ahead of me.  In the 15 seconds it took me to put my pen down and gather the baby from where she was playing on the floor, I heard screaming coming from the kitchen. I ran in there, and she was standing on the floor in front of the counter holding her bloody mouth, and one of her bottom teeth was on the floor. 

Her first lost tooth.  At barely age four.  And not on purpose.

You'd think I'd grown accustomed to these moments, as in less than four years, she's already busted her forehead open twice and knocked the wind out of herself another time while jumping off the coffee table {which we've since gotten rid of until...hmmm...our kids leave for college}.  But no, there's no "growing accustomed" to your child screaming in panic and pain and the realization that she's again been scarred by life in this imperfect world.

I don't know where I got the idea that life should ever be perfect, but unfortunately I carried it into motherhood with me.  My babies came into the world without scars, and I wanted to keep it that way. And although I know it's just appearances and it sounds ridiculous to be upset about a tooth, I'm still human, I'm a mom, and it makes me sad.

I kept my sadness about the tooth falling out between my husband and I and a few close girlfriends.  {"Daredevil!" one friend responded.  Another appeared at our front door with a Dora balloon.  Yet another reminded me, "Perfection is boring."}

I looked on the bright side - the tooth was on the bottom, it wasn't a permanent one, and it came out cleanly without any other damage.   And of course more than anything, my daughter is still whole, still her beautiful, spunky self.  Thank you, Lord.

But I just feel fragile now.  I'm feeling the weight of the fact that there's really only so much I can do to protect my children.  It's such a difficult thing to love them and protect them while also surrendering them to the One who actually loves them more than I ever could.

And as much as I want it to be, life just isn't perfect.

The best part is, she doesn't mind at all.  She thinks it's fun to have a window in her mouth and keeps showing it to people proudly.  She's blissfully unaware of how long it's going to be until the new tooth comes in.

Please, my sweet girl.  Stay this innocent and unaffected by the world as long as you can.

On Mother's Day morning, I looked at her sitting across the couch eating chocolate chip pancakes {her favorite} and uttered a silent prayer,

Please don't let me do anything to break her carefree spirit.  Don't let me crush her with my own faults and weaknesses.  Please rid me of this desire for a perfect life so I don't pass it on to my children.   And thank you, thank you, thank you for protecting my girl once again.

So we approach age 4 with a window in her mouth.  I look through, and I see a picture of the little girl she still is, a glimpse of the big girl she's yet to be.

These are days...

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"These are days you'll remember.

Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this.

And as you feel it, you'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky.

It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days you'll remember.

When May is rushing over you with desire to be part of the miracles you see in

Every hour.

You'll know it's true that you are blessed and lucky.

It's true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you.

These are days.

These are the days you might fill with laughter until you break.

These days you might feel a shaft of light make its way across your face.

And when you do you'll know how it was meant to be.

See the signs and know their meaning.

It's true, you'll know how it was meant to be.

Hear the signs and know they're speaking to you, to you."

~ "These Are Days" by 10,000 Maniacs

The art of self-care {after baby #2}.

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"Sacrifice crosses a line into martyrdom when it's not balanced with self-care. Our kids don't need a martyr; they need a mother. A martyr gives up her life to the extent that she no longer exists – she loses who she is while taking care of everyone else. A mother cares for her family and cares for herself. She allows motherhood to expand her experiences and her understanding of herself. A mother models the art of self-care for her children when she pays attention to her need for rest, nutrition, and exercise. She shows them how to find a Friend who understands when she takes the time to pray and read God's Word. She strengthens their faith when they see her turn to God for answers to her own life. Following the example of Christ we can learn to sacrifice without losing ourselves along the way." ~ from Real Moms, Real Jesus by Jill Savage

Almost 4 months in, I'm finding what the "art of self-care" means with two children.  Awhile ago, I learned my lesson that self-care cannot fall by the wayside after having kids.  Sure, it's more difficult and maybe looks a lot different than it did before {say, a 5 minute shower with a baby in the Bumbo at your feet}.  But for me, it's non-negotiable to get in some self-care time however small, so I stay both sane and healthy.   The goal here isn't perfection, as if that were even possible.  A little goes a long way.

Here are some ways I've been practicing self-care lately...

  • Making time for reading and tea early in the morning.  It doesn't happen every morning and sometimes it's for only 15 minutes before the first little voice beckons me, but when I start my day this way, I feel much better.  Usually it's my beloved coconut milk latté and my Bible Study Fellowship notes, or just one of the books I'm currently reading.
  • Taking my vitamins.  I continued taking Evening Primrose Oil and Red Raspberry Leaf capsules for 3 months postpartum, and I feel like they kept my mood even keel for awhile.  Now I'm done with those and my regimen now includes Garden of Life Vitamin Code for Women, Carlson's Vitamin D-3 drops, liquid iodine to support my thyroid (just 1 drop a day), and Green Pasture Fermented Cod Liver Oil/Butter Oil blend.
  • Drinking lots of water.  An easy way to get in enough water?  This glass 2 gallon crock filled with naturally-flavored water to drink throughout the day.  There are few things more refreshing than cucumber lemon water - just slice a bunch of cucumbers thinly with a knife or mandoline, add some fresh squeezed lemon juice or lemon slices to ice water.  You could try all different kinds of flavors - add melon slices, berries, limes...Having it ready and in sight makes a difference.
  • Using my essential oils.  I've been building an arsenal of doTerra essential oils, and I use them practically everyday.   Here are some ways:
    • Wild Orange on the back of my neck for rejuvenation
    • Diffusing Balance, Purify, or Elevation in the air
    • Rubbing Lavender or Roman Chamomile on the back of my neck for relaxation
    • Inhaling, diffusing, or rubbing Clary Sage on my skin - love the scent of this oil, probably because it reminds me of Norah's birth.
    • Adding 3 drops of Lemon to my water (make sure to use a glass container).
    • Something I've been wanting to try: oil pulling with sesame oil and a drop of OnGuard.
  • Taking a shower.  Mmmkay, time to shift expectations.  Gone are the days of long, luxurious 30-minute showers that use all the hot water.  What's realistic now is a few minutes of hot water pouring down on me, but afterwards I'm clean and feel much better.  Most of the time, I'm rushing to dry off to pick up a crying baby or barely get my clean clothes on before someone wakes up, but it's a step in the right direction.
  • Getting dressed in "real" clothes.  Yoga pants are practically a uniform for moms of small children, amen?   I ain't ashamed to wear them.  However, I feel a bit better when I actually get dressed in something that resembles "real" clothes - lately I've been loving the Threads 4 Thought skirts you can get at Whole Foods along with a tank top.  I have 3 of them, and they're made of super comfy t-shirt material (I'm wearing the Hanover skirt as I type this).   And they're great for a postpartum mama who still can't fit into some of her "transition" clothes from the last pregnancy.
  • Eating well and often.  I've been trying to stick to healthy meats, tons of veggies, some fruit, and healthy fats, skipping the grains except for our Sunday suppers each weekend when I know I'll get to have noodles, homemade pasta or pizza or something deliciously carb-laden.  I just feel better physically and emotionally limiting/eliminating the grains, dairy, and refined sugars.  I've also been trying to have more healthy snacks around.  I recently tried Sara Snow's Energy Sustaining Breakfast Bars.  They're great to grab when you need a little snack, although I don't love the chewy texture from the chia seeds.  I'll probably use flax seeds next time.
  • Smoothies everyday.  We usually end up making a smoothie everyday in some form or fashion.  If it's a green smoothie day, it's a great way to get my 3-year-old to actually eat some greens.  Lately, I also add some Zija Prime90 protein powder.  I've tried so many different protein powders, and this is the best-tasting one I've ever had, hands down.  It's mostly protein from the amazing moringa plant.
  • Skin dry brushing.  This is my new favorite healthy habit.  Skin dry brushing is a simple, quick way to cleanse and get the lymphatic system moving.  I bought this Yerba Prima skin brush on Amazon and take about 3-5 minutes to brush my skin before I take a shower.  It feels so good, especially behind the knees for some reason (there are lymph nodes there, right?).  I feel totally rejuvenated afterwards, and my skin already feels softer and tighter.  This is a great tutorial on how to do it effectively.

And then there are those crazy days when you got in zero self-care, no matter how hard you try.  So you end up at "happy hour" at your friend's house at 5pm.  While your kids play together, you drink a glass of red wine and color unicorns and rainbows in your friend's kid's coloring book.  And that's okay too.

"When the kids were young..."

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"Though childhood slips like sand through a sieve…
And all too soon they’ve up and grown,
and then they’ve flown…
And it’s too late for you to give..."
~ Mary Poppins

One day Steven and I will sit around talking about "when the kids were young" or "when we had little ones in the house."  Onesies will be gone for good, diapers will be a burden of the past, and we'll wish we had puzzle pieces and crayons and Sophie The Giraffe toys to pick up off the floor before going to bed.  The days of when we had small children will all be one big, beautiful memory, their childhoods already created.

Lately, this has been weighing so heavily on me.  Probably because Norah is {most likely} my last baby, I find myself feeling differently this time around.  Although it seems like our family is rounded out with two children, I still have that sad feeling that my childbearing years might be over, and this is the last time I'll have an infant in my arms. 

This is what one of my favorite authors, Sarah Bessey, calls "The Ache."  I can barely get through that entire post, because it touches the pit of my soul.  She says,

"It’s simply the Ache of time passing, because this is what time does, and our souls are noticing the passing of a season, and it’s okay. It’s okay to let it Ache. It means we’re living and it means we’re loving our life as it stands, loving it enough to notice a transition away."

Yes, I love this enough to notice that it will be gone.  Sigh.

So this time, I don't really care when Norah wakes up in the middle of the night not the least bit sleepy and looks up at me with her big, chubby, jolly smile.  This time, I get her out of her bassinet and play with her for awhile and realize that sleep can wait.  This time, I don't read tons of books on my Kindle or check my phone while I'm nursing.  I mostly just look down at her and try to memorize every detail of a sleepy, milk-drunk, contented baby, and I praise God for the ability to feed and nourish and comfort two girls in this way. 

I don't feel weird about taking a million pictures of my children.  I look back at all the photos I have of Luci Belle as a toddler and can't believe those toddler years are already gone.  I'm thankful beyond words to have so many frozen moments.

My goal as a parent is to give my children "roots and wings" and raise them to be healthy, self-assured women who hopefully love and serve the Lord.   Still, one day everything will be quiet here, and I can hardly bear to think of it. 

But today, sweet today, I still have two little ones at home.  As long and hard as the days can be, and as frustrated and wrung-out and beyond-tired I can become, I cling to the reality that I've been given a chance to be a mother, and I love this calling.  I will try to mother them the best I can, hold their childhoods in my hands as the precious commodity they are, and not let others make me feel guilty about seeing these little years as a blessing.

I will put down my fork and leave the dinner table on Thanksgiving to capture a photo of my carefree 3-year-old.  And twenty years from now, we'll look back on this image together and remember that she was a child who loved to dance in sunbeams.