Ray of Sunshine

Well, that's another road trip in the books.. And it's official. We've got a mom-car. It may not be a minivan, but it's got the same tell-tale used bandaids and stickers strewn about, more than the allotted daily serving of fruit snack wrappers and the all-too-familiar stench of McD's chicken nuggets. It. Is. Gross. 

And that's all just from one kid. 

We walk in the house and the living room, neat and tidy from days sans toddler becomes this within minutes...

She finds her dress up box and as I attempt to unload said nasty car, and I'm tripping over a tutu-wearing, VeggieTales-singing two year old, complete with microphone. 

And it is the best thing ever. 

Tomorrow morning we are having our weekly mom-date here at Casa Westergren and my sweet mama friends are going to have the privilege (ha) of getting to see our real-life, everyday selves... The ones that aren't unpacked and organized and neat and tidy. There very well may be used bandaids places and lingering chicken nugget smell. There will definitely be miss-matched dressing up and constant tripping over singing toddlers. But there will also be oh-so-much joy. Because the mess is proof of life well lived.. Of a safe trip home from Mimi and Bop's house. And of an imaginative little girl who feels safe to explore and create in her very own corner of the world. What gifts. 

We met Daddy at the hospital tonight and on the way in each and every person we passed smiled and stopped to say "hello" to Lyla. One older man, walking out of the hospital using oxygen looked down at her and said, "Well you are just a ray of sunshine on this gloomy day"... And it warmed this mama's heart.

There will be messes. Things may be a disaster and rather gross most of the time, but it is so so worth it. Because these sticky, smelly little ones bring so much joy into our crazy, messed up world. Tonight I am choosing to be grateful for the messy house... For the toy purse full of animal crackers that the dog sniffed out of the toy box tonight... And, especially, for the curious little girl behind it all... Because even in the mess, there are gifts. Precious reminders of blessings not to be taken for granted. 

Two

My baby just turned two, which feels like a pretty big deal. There were donuts and presents and cupcakes and friends and family and food all weekend long. We celebrated her little life pretty darn well, with plenty of sugar and lots of her people. Success. I know I should probably be crying all the bittersweet tears and begging time to stop because my-baby-is-growing-up-too-fast-and-I-can't-even-deal, but I'm actually pretty pumped. (In case anyone thinks I'm dead inside, I shed a couple when we set up her big girl bed... Come on, I'm not a robot.) 

Don't get me wrong, I have loved these past two years with her, but the newborn/infancy stage was really, really tough on me. This time two years ago, we were settling in to our first night at home with her, and I was an anxious, terrified, exhausted, hormonal, weepy mess. And I was like that for months and months... And months... So, when I say that I'm not super sad to be two years out from those early days and weeks (and months) with my girl, I mean it. I count myself blessed to have been able to carry her in my belly for nine months, bring her into this world and breastfeed her for the first year of her life. I do not take these precious things for granted. They are true gifts, and I am thankful for them. But in the spirit of being real and honest, I will tell you that those beautiful experiences were the most difficult of my life, and I'm thankful to be past them.

I'm loving having a toddler. I love that we can communicate with each other. I love that we can play and that I can see her learning new things everyday. I love that she is quickly learning to value her people over stuff. I'm thankful to be where we are at. And I'm truly not mourning her transition from baby to child. I can look back on the brokenness of my early days as a mom with gratitude and fondness, knowing that as with all things, God is the best at creating beauty from pain. This is why the theme of grace is such a big deal for me... Why I talk about it all the time and why it's the title of my blog... There are pictures of it everywhere and, lately, I can't help but see and share them. My baby just turned two. And it is a big deal. Because of grace. We celebrate this milestone because of loads of grace. 

Weeding

Monday was hot and muggy. It rained the night before. Hard. So everything was soaked and soggy. Kristen was here and rocking at the whole aunt-thing. Seriously, she and Lyla are besties. When they were playing together Monday morning, I saw a rare opportunity and I took it... A chance to tackle the weeds, uninterrupted. They were getting out of control, so I put on some gloves and started pulling. They were worse than I had originally thought. They were everywhere... Distracting from the good plants and stealing precious nutrients like little, spikey bandits. So I dug. And pulled. And dug. And sweat. A lot. And I found that with the rain the night before, and the right amount of digging, I could get them up and out quicker and easier than ever before. Funny how even nasty, pokey weeds can get me thinking... 

I've been a bit of a butt lately... As a wife, mama and friend. I've had to apologize to some of the people I love the most. I have had some nasty weeds growing in my heart... Comparison. Resentment. Pride. They take away from the good that is in me and they grow deeper and deeper if left unattended. They can hurt those around me and threaten to steal my joy. And they won't just go away on their own. They've got to be recognized and wrestled with... And even then, these dang weeds just keep coming back. I dig and pull and sweat and dig and they just pop right back up... Slow at first, so I don't even notice them until they are, once again, out of control. If I want them gone forever, I have to be on them constantly, and even then, others will grow in their place... 

So, I'm weeding... In more ways than one. I'm weeding my flower gardens around the house, and I'm doing a little weeding on my heart. I'm digging deep and pulling out the comparison, the thistles and the pride... I'm working on replacing them with beauty... With contentment and gratitude.

If there's only one thing people learn from this blog it is this... That grace is abundant. That it meets us when we are buried in the weeds and helps us dig out, one thistle at a time. It restores brokenness and heals our hurts. It patches up relationships when we act like butts. It makes things right again. So, this week I'm basking in some serious grace. I'm working on the weeds and hoping to grow more and more beauty in their place. 

Sweet, Beautiful Chaos

Today was our first family day in almost two weeks. And it was fun. And it was chaos. It was one of those days where, at the end of it, Eric and I just look at each other and ask, "When did this become our life???" He's brushing the dog's teeth while Lyla runs laps around the house wearing absolutely nothing. We finally get responsible and put a diaper on her and then join in on her little pre-bedtime workout. All four of us, dog included, running laps around the whole downstairs... Through the kitchen, dining room, living room, entry way, hall, family room and repeat. Over and over and over, laughing and hollering and barking and making sweet, loud, chaotic memories (miraculously no one got hurt and Lyla didn't run into any walls: WIN). 

This is the stuff of parenting that I love... The stuff that doesn't always make sense. Like giving a two-year-old a bowl of ice cream and brownies.. A serious mess, and often the reason she doesn't fall asleep for three hours, but totally necessary at the same time. Or wrestling on the floor, knowing that there will be a few accidental head-butts and gut-jumps, but also a very necessary part of childhood. Picking out flowers at the store and letting the two-year-old carry them around, knowing they will be a squished mess by the time they get into a vase. Setting up the pool and all the outdoor toys and then tearing it all down at night and picking up the entire mess of a yard over and over again. Sharing popsicles that melt all over hands and feet and white swimsuits and faces in the hot, hot sun. I'm starting to get it now... How special those things were that my parents did for me. And I'm learning to appreciate it even more now that I know how much extra work, mess and, sometimes, pain goes into making precious memories with kids. It would be so much easier to stay home, only feed her healthy and clean foods, only allow tidy play, and to only ever encourage her to be calm... To rarely go out and do activities, like bike rides, because anything with small children takes more work and more time and usually a little more stress...

It's a hassle. And it doesn't always make sense. But it is good. And it is so, so important. Because we only have these little ones for so long. I've been reminded several times lately that we only really have today with our people. Tomorrow is not a guarantee. We assume that we will get these 18 years with our kids, but none of us really know how much time we will have with them. So, we make messes. And we make memories. And we hold them a little extra tightly when they get owies or sit still for a rare moment. We give countless kisses and hugs and cuddles. And we push down inevitable feelings of guilt for not enjoying every single moment because this is REAL LIFE. Constant toddler meltdowns and poop in all the wrong places and endless fussing and bedtime fighting... Sometimes (ok, usually) hard to enjoy. But we balance the hard out with the good. We give thanks for the craziness that our life has become. Because, in all reality, it's all a gift. Every messy, chaotic activity we get to do together... Things to be grateful for. 

So, I sit here in the darkness and quiet of my still-not-unpacked bedroom, listening to Eric rocking our little girl and singing the VeggieTales theme song for the 3572nd time. She's been fighting bedtime a lot lately and tonight when we checked on her, Eric picked her up and said to me, "You go write. I don't get much time to snuggle with her." He gets it. Mama needs a break and Lyla needs some daddy-time, making sweet memories that will last. And tonight we go to bed exhausted and worn out and sore and sick of singing Veggies. But we also go to bed with full hearts, thankful for family time and chaos. Messes and memories. And we will do it all over again tomorrow, hopefully after a good, solid night's sleep with few interruptions (ha). 

Mom of the Year

This is our new Tuesday morning ritual... Mom dates. Every Tuesday we get together and we share donuts and coffee, kiddos and babies, sand and sunshine. We chat about our lives... Being moms, resident wives and women. We ask questions and give helpful advice. We swap kids when we've had it up to "here" (*reaches as high as possible while on tiptoes*). We vent and say plenty of "me too"s. We joke about competing for Mom of the Year... This time I'm pretty sure it was a tie between Coty and me... She forgot to bring her kiddo's clothes and I fed mine a sandy donut off the ground. WINNING. We have to laugh. And I realize this group is one of those things that will help to sustain us through the next several years. Knowing we are not alone. Knowing these other mamas are there when we are losing it and daddies won't be home for hours. Hearing sweet words of encouragement when we are at our lowest. 

This has been the hardest week since we moved here. My patience has been paper-thin. My girl has been extra whiny and extra into-all-of-the-things. And daddy has been busy with work, which means mama-breaks are few and far between. It's easy to start feeling the guilt pile on when I realize I've raised my voice more than not and I am constantly trying to peel off the two year old barnacle that's attached itself to my legs. While I am incredibly grateful for my healthy, active little girl, I don't enjoy EVERY SINGLE MINUTE of parenting. *Cue more guilt* The house has never been messier, and I don't even know where to begin to make it livable again. We are currently a hot mess. There is no magic fix here. I've got no answers or creative solutions to share. But there is grace and tonight it looked like daddy sending me upstairs with my dinner and wine to have some time ALL TO MYSELF. Bless him.

When the clouds clear and I've wiped my tears after taking a sippy cup to the face during bedtime (no joke, that was the cherry on top of our day), I can still count the gifts... Reminders that our messy life is still beautiful and that even the hardest of days are filled with moments of goodness...
Lyla peeking through the fence to watch our neighbor, Mr. Dean, mow his lawn. 

Little braids watching daddy mow the lawn. 

A brief moment of quiet time when nap was all-too-short. 

Sprinkle donuts that could have passed for breakfast cupcakes. 

So, here's to a new day. Tomorrow HAS GOT to be better. (*Pause to run and put a toddler hollering "potty" on the toilet. Success! Win! Another gift.*) We've got this mamas and friends and strangers-who-read-my-blog. Here's a reassuring pat on the back. We all could use one. There's no shame in bad days but there's new hope for good ones. Be kind, Wednesday... We're coming for you. 

Sarah

PS: My brother just sent me this... Apparently little miss had some fun with Uncle Bagoo's iPad last week when he was here. A good, much-needed laugh before bed: check. Gift.

24 Hours of Gratitude

I have countless things to share... Lots of thoughts and ideas strewn about in notes on my phone and computer, but none seem quite right for today. This happens often, actually. And the best solution I can think of is to share some gifts... Simple, yet profound things that I have collected over the last 24 hours. Beautiful reminders of goodness and grace. So, here is my list. And let this be my first official blog invitation to you to make your own. Gratitude is oh. so. powerful. 

****************************************************************

Listening to bath time... Daddy washing away the day's dirt and sticky, settling meltdowns and worshipping all at once... Oh, and now there's some guitar. Daddy's playing guitar. During bath time. Does it get any better? Rock star dad. 

Countless cherry toms on the two plants out back... Slowly but surely turning from green to red and yellow... Miraculously not yet picked by a curious toddler. 

A sweet pup following close behind while thirsty plants are quenched with recycled pool water... Carrying around a treasure. A golf ball found in the bushes where she has also found an outdoor bed. ON the bush. Not beside it. She lays ON TOP OF the bush, people. Oh Scout. Whatever works for ya, dog. 

Lyla in awe and wonder at the ant crawling around the pool and then up her arm and then into her hair. "Ant pretty". Yes, dear one... Even the tiniest of creatures is beautiful. Thanks for the reminder. 

A collection of nature treasures... A leaf, a rock, a flower and some buds. Small, insignificant finds that my girl deemed valuable enough to collect and save. 

Frankincense oil for a sun-kissed face and ever-feeling heart. A sweet scent to calm and refresh and remind. 

The way she 'nods' along to songs... Making sure that mama is watching. Amazingly along with the beat. Any music will do... Jingles from toys. A ringtone. Daddy's phone music. Currently "Good good father" playing. The song ends and I hear a frantic "mom more feek (music)". Sure, girl. I can't get enough of that one either.

A cool, yet still sunny morning. A welcome break from multiple 90 degree days. Fresh air breathed in and no sweat in sight. 

An unexpected FaceTime chat with Thailand. In the midst of chaos. Cereal dumped on the floor, dog-vacuum at work while toddler cries over her snack's misfortune. Even chaotic, five-minute, virtual visits help to encourage and build up an otherwise already (at 9 am) worn out toddler mom. 

Play dates with new mama friends... Sharing stories and babies and hearts and coffee and hospital cafeteria scones and life. Toys strewn across every inch of carpet proving that two happy toddlers did some good learning and sharing this morning. 

Leaving daddy with little miss to do bedtime.. Driving all alone. Enjoying a much-needed impromptu fro yo date with a new friend... Some alone time away to recharge and reflect... And to raid Hobby Lobby clearance.

Lyla asleep before 9:00... For the first time in I-don't-know-how-many days. Finally some good rest for a busy girl... And her tired mama. 

Grateful.

Sarah