2011 Wrap Up

This post is also found on my investing blog, Flipping Oklahoma, so it may be a duplicate if you read both!

The best thing that happened to us this year happens to be named Madelyn Ruth Payne, born on February 12. It was a complicated, intense and scary birth but that was the worst of it. She cooed, she slept, she smiled and we all adjusted much better than my fears and plans allowed.
Praise God!

She is 10 months old now and I have decided I was right, after all, in giving myself an entire year for an adjustment period. Not the standard 6 weeks or even 6 months. I gave myself 12 months before I would think of losing weight, of making plans, pursuing adventures, or have the house running smoothly. This is surely not necessary for everyone, but for me? with my third child? Yes, it was, and the grace has been life-giving.
Without even realizing what was happening, in the last eight weeks or so I found myself wanting to organize the laundry and meals and what-nots in the house, and talking to Aaron more often about our debt and goals and dreams and brainstorming ways to move forward. Just like that, my time of adjustment has ended all by itself, gradually and organically, without judgmental pressure or condemning “should haves”.

At the beginning of November, I was chatting with a friend of my husband’s family and discovered he and his partner overwhelmed with their real estate ventures. They had leads coming in but not enough time or a good enough plan or system to follow-up. I asked him if he’d ever considered having someone come in to help him coordinate his deals, to take over the tedious process of follow-ups, negotiations, comps, contracts and closings. They had, and in fact were looking for someone!

I emailed my friend, Shae, a veteran investor, asking if she thought there was an opportunity to partner up with or offer a sort of transaction coordination service to busy investors. She did!

Then, around Thanksgiving, I paid an outrageously cheap price to try my friend Shae’s Financial Freedom GPS. Aaron and I have read books and articles like it before, and are familiar with many of the principles in it. But we needed a new starting point, and boy did we find it. Although we were familiar with most of the budgeting concepts, Shae’s approach to getting out of debt and pursuing financial freedom were the first of their kind, as far as I know. The entire e-book has been intriguing, innovating and inspiring. Just the ticket!

We have a good plan, with aggressive and smart ways to earn quick cash to pay off debt and start focusing on the next stage of our plan: develop that passive income!

I’m hoping it works out to partner with these two investors, but if not, I already have a marketing plan to find other investors to work with in the area. We’ll see how quickly this can work, and where all the cards fall in the next few weeks.

Here’s to 2012!

Mama, Growing Up

I was pushing Maddi through Target the other day and a series of thoughts popped into my head as I realized that, by the time the third child comes...well, you've learned a thing or two. Maybe, like me, you might not realize it at first, but here are some examples for you:

-Don't dig yourself an early grave by saying "uh oh!" every time your baby drops something. You now know you will regret this later if you do, when that baby discovers her most favorite game.

-A baby toothbrush, or carrot or celery stick, is a better teether than anything you can buy labeled "Teether".

-Just let them slobber on anything and yes, pick it up and give it back to them.

As you push this third baby through the store, you might just find yourself wondering at it all. How did you make it this far? How did you finally learn to relax enough to really soak in some knowledge and even a bit of wisdom?

You think about the suffering you've gone through. With a pang of guilt, as images of third world countries flit across your mind, you think of your own long nights, nonstop crying, shrill screams, needs so numerous you couldn't possibly meet them all at once, and you realize that suffering is relative and of course, you've suffered. Quite a bit, actually.

You've learned what a failure you are, and realized that in the middle of that failure is the grace that you were working so hard to achieve in conquering motherhood. Your oldest child isn't accomplishing the academic goals you set out for, but he has seen your tears as you apologize, and you now feel that little eternal lesson is more signifiant than whether he can read yet.

You are able to forgive yourself - even if only a moment here, or a moment there - for being confused about yourself and your life, for even hating it sometimes. You realize most people are really like you, after all, and struggle to stay put in their mind.

And just like that, bit by painfully slow bit, you change. And wake up one day realizing that you have something to share, and the bulk of it isn't advice.

Autumn Veggie & Rice Soup On the Fly

Unlike my great friend, Kelly Rose, I am not comfortable cooking intuitively, or on the fly. But somehow, when I do, it ends up being my tastiest meals. I'd like to re-create this soup, though, so here's the recipe (since my recipe box and cards are still packed up!).

Autumn Veggie & Rice Soup

1. Saute one large red onion in 3T olive oil over medium heat.

2. Add 3 celery stalks, 4 carrots and 1 turnip, chopped into large chunks.

3. Add 1/2 yellow bell bepper, 1/2 green bell pepper, 4 med. yellow tomatoes, chopped.

4. Add 2 cups beef broth/gravy and 2-3 cups water. Season with salt, italian seasonings, dash of cayenne, garlic powder, and a splash of white wine vinegar.

5. Simmer 1-2 hours on low or low-medium heat.

6. Add juice of 1/2 lemon, some chopped frozen or fresh spinach, 1/4-1/2 cup peas and 1 1/2 cup cooked rice. Simmer at least 45 minutes or as long as you want.

Serve with fresh parmesan cheese and perhaps a bit more salt. Substitute freely with whatever is in your cupboard, freezer or refrigerator. :)

Forward Motion

Maddi woke up 7 months old today. And she cried. Another tooth, of course.

This sense of loss at the passing of time feels all-consuming these days. I share a story with my mom about Joseph, look in the rear-view mirror and don't see the same baby. I see a boy who wants to leave.

In a book I just finished reading, a woman's counselor strongly advised her not to have another baby while still in therapy. In fact, he recommends that all of his clients wait at least a year after terminating therapy until they even try to conceive. Why is this?

Patients form such an intense bond with their therapist, that, upon severing that relationship, people will search for a new one. Babies bridge that gap between the sad reality of our alone-ness and the hope of connection and intimacy.

Nothing is more intimate than a cuddling, nursing baby, who is still warm from leaving your body. This sweet, small creature - the perfect image of yourself - needs and wants you. Desperately. You alone make this most lovely person happy.

Yes, talk about connection.

This therapist went on to discuss with her the fact that the timing of her strong desire to have a baby just as she was planning to terminate therapy showed her motivation: avoidance of pain.

I think this is why mothers cry through each and every milestone of their children's lives. And I think this is why those of us who are less mature wail and gnash our teeth in front of our children while talking about said milestones.

Our children need us to be strong for them. To encourage them to grow up, be independent, take risks, get hurt, learn love and pain, and - well, to enter the adult world of suffering. Because that is where joy and wisdom and Christ are.

But to do this, they must leave. And we almost can't bear it. It almost swallows us whole. Just the idea of the emptiness, the life's work, the love - gone, is enough to make our hearts gasp.

But we know, don't we, that this is Good? That it is good to see our longing for intimacy and connection? As our children leave us, we are left with this aching hole that needs filling. God will fill us, and that hole (I am learning to see) is good.

It is good, too, to see this now, as they are young. So that we can spend their whole life convincing these children that leaving us is wonderful for them. That nothing would make us more proud than to see them grow.

One day, we will have children who have flourished because we loved them. You know, the real kind of Love, that sacrifices our selves (our longings, tears and hidden sadness) so that they can grow.

I'm looking forward to that One Day, because I will see my son and my daughters, and I think they will have grown up enough to really love me too. With that same real, sacrificial Love that I pray everyday that I could somehow show them.

Justice and Love

My friend, Norman, has good thoughts about how to handle controversies in the church. It's good to think about these things, because I don't want to sacrifice love in the name of justice, nor justice in the name of love.

I completely agree that mere offense is not enough reason to start an argument. I agree that we all want to speak our minds, and it's dangerous if we are waiting our turn to speak rather than listening to what others have to say. I think criticisms should always be qualified, and always leave room for clarification and reconciliation. And I think these things are easier said than done. It's good for me to have you around to remind me.

I also think that silence has created as many broken homes as careless speech. In every scandal, every time a priest abuses a little boy, every time a pastor engages with impunity in sexual practices he has railed against from the pulpit, every time the cross of Christ has been used as a justification for oppressing women, blacks, or any other group, every time the leaders of the church have quietly led their flocks out of the eyes of society and down the road of a new gospel... there have always been those who saw problems, saw warning signs, and may have even spoken to these leaders about their concerns, but in the end kept their fears to themselves. A murderer walks free for a want of two witnesses willing to speak publicly rather than go to the murderer first.

Now, this previous point is gross hyperbole. Mark Driscoll has not killed anybody, he has not sexually abused children, beaten his wife, ordered a black man to the back of the bus, or throw trash and yelled at men leaving a gay bar. He hasn't done those things. But he has said things that many find very hurtful, and not in keeping with the gospel or Scripture. He didn't just say them to his small group, or even to his own church. He published them in a public forum, inviting public critique, even from other believers.

If Rachel Held Evans sees what he has done publicly as 'bullying,' then she would be doing truth, unity, and the gospel of Christ a disservice if she remained silent, or merely told him 'I think this is bad' and then sat back as she saw it continue. There is always the danger that Ms. Evans' passion will lead to error and lack of love. This is no less true of Pastor Driscoll's passion. Passion is fire, and fire is dangerous. It doesn't mean we should hide it. And it certainly doesn't mean (to borrow the words of another controversial Christian figure) that we should "trade truth for false unity."

4 Months

Maddi's fourth month has been a standout month for our family. We finished fixing up the house, put it on the market, got a contract, and sold it. We moved all of our belongings here to Tulsa, Joseph got his first bee sting at the park, Emma became officially potty-trained, and we generally lived in stressful, exciting upheaval.

While we were sprinting around, Maddi decided to check some things off her baby to do list.

Two and a half weeks ago, her aim sharpened, her grip tightened and she was able to grab and play with objects for the first time. This is a big one for mamas, since that means I can add 5 more minutes to the time she can play by herself. I appreciate it.

Two weeks ago she started scooching on her back. We were packing in OKC and I found her under our guest bed! She's an excellent scoocher.

One and a half weeks ago, she started sucking her thumb! She now goes to sleep sucking her thumb, although she still cries and yells a bit to get it out.

One week ago, she said "ba!". She wasn't being sardonic (not Maddi!), but discovered a new consonant. Aaron wants me to work on her d's, but I know he has an ulterior motive.

Five days ago, she cut her first tooth. Right smack on her bottom gum, it popped out. I cried. Give me more time, Maddi! is what I say to her. But no, she's moving on. Without me.

And just now, as I sit here at home, while the rest of the family is at church, Maddi rolled over! I'm not sure I can take all this change. But yes, the sweet girl was screaming in her crib, which is unlike her, and I found her on her back like an abandoned turtle.

She is really pressing on, so I suppose I should catch up with her. But I'm way back in March, when my precious newborn was learning to coo. I still contend that time is not where I'm from, or it wouldn't feel so awkward when I put it on.

Cloistered Homeschool Syndrome: Part Dos

At least once a week, someone reads my post about the "cloistered homeschool syndrome". What's going on out there? I'm deaf to almost all news, but most especially Christian news. I completely avoid reformed or homeschooling news. If you strike up a conversation with the words "Federal Vision", I might run (Prov. 22:3).

When it's news about one sect, reported by another sect, I turn away like most men (should) turn away from a scantily clad woman with inviting eyes. I say "NO!". It woos me, it seduces me: drama, conflict, arguments, logic, theology, passion! It's Temptation itself for me. I become overly concerned about them, when I have weeds in my garden that need to be pulled.

But when I get hits once a week for the same issue, well, I think I'll post again, just to see what happens. With the words 'seduce' and 'temptation' in this post, who knows? I might get more hits than the original post, which is only a link.

Since I left home after high school and discovered calvinism, reformed theology and patriarchy, I've been THAT girl, ten times over.

I've been the single girl pining for a strong man to tell me what to do. In college I was convinced patriarchy was the solution to the world's troubles, and if families would only have better husbands sin would leave us alone. I moved out of my apartment with my roommate and rented a room with a Christian family. I wanted to "court" instead of date, and it turned out that I was doing everything myself, without input from anyone, and was essentially barking up the wrong tree. I learned to crochet and sew, and listened to everything I could on "biblical femininity".

The thing is, I don't like to sew. I didn't like that guy. And I loved my roommate.

I've also been that friend who handed out copies of "Getting Serious About Getting Married". As a single lady, I devoured the ideas, and as a young married woman, I held meetings with single women to explain what they were doing wrong. I saw single ladies at the university I attended and I pitied them for having too much freedom.

Why didn't I pity them for not knowing that Jesus loved them?

Most unfortunately, I've been that wife. THAT one. The one who told her husband what to say, with what tone, and with what gestures, to make sure he gave off the right patriarchal vibes. I would become frustrated with my DH (dear husband, you know) if he wasn't guiding our family in the direction I knew we should go. I resented his quiet, calm demeanor, because everyone knows that you can't be a biblical husband if your wife likes to talk more than you do.

And of course, we now know that we're a lovely couple, when we only try to be the Aaron and Kelly that we already were and are.

The problem with patriarchy isn't so much that the daughters stay at home, marry young, obey their parents or wear skirts. The problem begins when the parents believe and teach their children that there is no other way to be a Christian.

When they do this, it explodes into a Problem that the Gospel is not allowed to resolve. Their lifestyle, methods and day-to-day choices become practically more important than remembering that we are one in Christ, that we are free to live as we choose, and that our real obligation is to love.

When we forget that, the people around us know that we care more about our "convictions" than about loving them. Our friends will stop calling, tired of all the advice and lectures. They'll find a friend who will ask them "how are you doing?" and then actually listen to the answer. Our neighbors will know that unless they want a judgmental look, they will not call if they need help. And I've watched as the children of these parents "rebelled" and left, just to get enough room to breathe and pick out what they wanted to wear or how they wanted to arrange their house.

Patriarchy is only a problem when you cling to it as much as you cling to Christ. I remember the day I realized my convictions were more important to me than Jesus, and that I'd become a complete mess. I was attending college at the University of Oklahoma and was trying to graduate early, because I owed it to my parents, but I really wanted to quit and have 12 babies. I was right smack in the middle of what I call my "amish phase": long skirts, no make up.

It was early, and I'd just gotten out of my first class of the day. I was walking to my next class, staring at all the girls dressed in their tight, completely inappropriate jeans. I'd been judging these other girls silently for minutes before it even dawned on me to look down and see what I was wearing.

Jeans.

I'd woken up late that morning, and in my rush, put on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I almost cried right then and there. It's always reminded me that I need Jesus, and so do they.

Being Present

Last night, at the end-of-year ceremony for his preschool, I read in the program that when my son grows up, he wants to "do a dangerous construction job in Oklahoma City".

I woke up this morning, thinking, 'I guess he really will grow up'. Nothing motivates me to be a thinker, a doer, a lover more than knowing that when he does grow up, it will most likely be in my image.

So who am I? Who do I want to be? What do I believe? Because he will be these things.

After going to counseling for almost two years now, I know why my throat closes when I'm overwhelmed; why I yell at my children, furious that they need me; why I seek earnestly for any distraction or activity that will keep me from quiet reflection in those moments of anxiety or frustration.

It's terrifying being alone.

We believe we are weak, helpless and powerless. We believe we deserve everything, because we are nothing. We believe we will not make it without whatever it is that makes us feel strong. We believe we cannot be happy unless our lives are arranged a certain way. We believe we will never be loved, and everyone will find a reason to hurt us.

The terrifying part is that our fears are true.

Panic attacks are not being overwhelmed by fear. I believe they are being overwhelmed by reality.

We are broken people in a broken world, but ironically need perfection. Day in and day out, we face the truth that no one is loving me like I need, things aren't working out like I want, and the damn squirrels always run out in front of MY van. The truth is that we are not as helpless as we feel, but we are much more fragile than we are comfortable with. Panic attacks are in order when you realize that.

I know that in this world, to make myself vulnerable doesn't mean the chance of being hurt, it means that getting hurt is inevitable. I've had more panic attacks since waking up to this truth than I did before I acknowledged it. It gets worse before it gets better, but I am stronger in the truth than in the lie that I'm okay.

So the person I was when I wore my mask - when I tried to be who I thought I should be, instead of who I am - isn't the person I want Joseph to be. I want him to have the courage to be dangerous and to think thoughts the world (or the Church) might squelch because they are not the norm. I hope he has the strength to truly love and die and be humiliated and humbled and scarred by someone (lots of people), because he knows that he is loved and that Christ will not leave him. And I hope that he can scream and cry and yell at the injustice of it all, of not being loved back when he wants to be.

I hope he feels freedom to be present with himself, instead of contempt, pity, shame or arrogance. I think after he learns all that, he will be the man God wants him to be. And I will be a very proud Mama when I see that man.

Humility

I'm thinking about humility. Pretty much since I could talk, I was known to be a proud person. I would argue with my mother over everything; I bragged about every good thing I did; I hated every person who would shine brighter than me.

Over the years, I began to hate myself for this. When I felt that pang of jealously, I would take myself aside and get a good lecture over the lack of love in my attitude. I would work furiously to do something really well, only to find that I was hitting myself over my own head, saying, how could you try to be better than others?! I would feel that pull to correct someone, and then tsk-tsk myself for thinking I was smarter.

But was I right to hate myself for those things? Were they all evidence of an ugly, proud heart?

Now that I've finally lived long enough to have swung in two completely opposite directions, I have at least a view of that middle ground, called balance, and I think also known as the Gospel.

Of course, some part of my behavior was pride, and sinful. But I disagree with those Christians who pick up their swords and plunge them into their hearts, hoping to rip out the bad (and keep the good?). They berate themselves (as I did) for their sinful hearts, hate themselves for their lack of repentance, and most likely "rededicate" themselves to righteousness in this area or that, many times over. They think the key to getting rid of pride is discipline, and a strong commitment to humility.

We all begin in pride, but the antidote to pride is love, not humility. Striving after humility and ruthlessly attacking myself - mistakenly thinking I am attacking my sin - only lends itself to more pride if I succeed in conquering my bad behavior.

It's love that I want, and it's the only thing that will quiet my fears, anger and striving, and allow me to actually look beyond the urgency of my own needs. I don't need to "battle" anything.

"Jesus has handled that battle; you are okay." That's what I say to myself now, when I'm being proud and ugly. When I'm tempted to stare at my sin, I do my best to force myself to look at Jesus. The more I do that, the less proud I am. Love quiets me, and (again) it's humbling to have Perfection love a failure. Yes, I work toward obeying Jesus, but only because I love him, and only by way of loving him.

But after all that, after the Gospel has started softening our hearts and we are waking up to our ugly selves, our needy selves, and we start to grow in love and grace, what does humility look like?

This is what I've been thinking about most.

The last few years, you might have found me walking around (even dancing) while saying, "Look what I did today!", or "This is such a great idea! I'm so glad I had it!", or "This turned out so well!". I might have some red flag go off in the back of my mind that wondered if I was "tooting my own horn", or trying to draw attention to myself.

But it didn't feel like that.

The best way to describe how I felt was detached. It could have been anyone's idea, anyone's productive day, anyone's yummy dinner. And I felt really happy for them. And for me. The last few years I have become more compassionate and happier for others (rejoicing with those rejoice; mourning for those who mourn). I've become just as eager to delight in my own good works and good days - big or little.

Why not be as happy that God has given good gifts to me as I am for others? Why not delight in the goodness he poured into me? Why not rejoice over my own growth the way He does?

Here are some quotes that have led me to think these things:

"Thousands of humans have been brought to think that humility means pretty women trying to believe they are ugly and clever men trying to believe they are fools...

God wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another.

God wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favor that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbor's talents—or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall. He wants each man, in the long run, to be able to recognize all creatures (even himself) as glorious and excellent things. He wants to kill their animal self-love as soon as possible; but it is His long-term policy, I fear, to restore to them a new kind of self-love—a charity and gratitude for all selves, including their own."
--CS Lewis (Screwtape Letters)

"Humility is not thinking less of yourself but thinking of yourself less". --C.S. Lewis

"Don't imagine that if you meet a really humble man he will be what most people call "humble" nowadays: he won't be a sort of greasy, smarmy person, who's always telling you that, of course, he's nobody. Probably all you'll think about him is that he seemed a cheerful, intelligent chap who took a real interest in what you said to him. If you do dislike him, it will be because you feel a bit envious of anyone who seems to enjoy life so easily. He won't be thinking about himself at all. There I must stop. If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realize that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you're not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed". --C.S. Lewis

Humility is not quite the opposite of arrogance. Arrogance is thinking more of yourself than you should. It does not follow that humility is thinking less of yourself than you should. Jesus was bold, frank, honest and strong. He did not shy away from greatness or compliments or followers or opinions.

Humility is embracing exactly who you are, as lowly or as great at it may be, and rejoicing in it because your Creator loves you.

Does it ever irk you when you give someone a compliment and they avert their eyes, mumble "thanks", and do everything in their power to avoid feeling good about what they've done? It does me. Or what about the person who does all that but is obviously glad you've finally noticed how great and wonderful and better than everyone else they are? Really?

I'm not encouraging anyone to walk around bringing up their good traits and accomplishments, or looking for praise. The opposite, really. When we're happy with ourselves, we're also happy with others.

Humble people are good listeners, who really want to see the good in others, and doesn't feel the need to interrupt and tell others all the wonderful thoughts they have on the subject. Humble people are quick to compliment others when they deserve it, but feel no need to flatter. When given a compliment, humility will say "Thank you!" with so much delight and agreement, it could take others by surprise. They don't seem to have an agenda when talking with people, and may seem self-absorbed at times, and selfless at others. This behavior doesn't really jive with the social norm of feigned humility, obvious narcissism, and hidden hostility.

So was I being prideful all these years, when I wanted to do well; when I thought something I did was good and said so; when I stated what I knew what I was good at? Perhaps some of my motivation was pride (and wanting to be loved), and it came out in my tone. But those behaviors alone are not proud. They are true and good in their proper context.

I'm looking forward to the day when I will know Jesus' love for me so well, that I can truly forget myself. I can't do that yet. I still interrupt others to tell them something "brilliant", feel rejected when someone else gets more comments on a Facebook post than mine, and feel jealous when I'm not invited to something. That's just the way it is.

But I'm so grateful to have more compassion for others, fewer yelling at my kids, and more willingness to really listen to others. God is gracious in his love to me.

Doing Life

Dooce is hosting a watch party for a movie she believes in. What doesn't seem significant is that she believes in something. Who doesn't? I "believe" in so many things; I am not lacking passion. But Dooce is throwing a watch party. With her close friends, she wants to underline and highlight what she believes in. She wants to stop and give it the pause she thinks it deserves.

My question is: why does it seem that everyone else has space in their life for special events, traditions, outings, friends even, while I go about life day by day? Each day ends and another begins. Repeat. My life.

Another friend would perhaps describe what I'm missing as "symbols". It's not a lack of meaning or purpose; in fact, I feel full of a purpose and calling that I know is a privilege and ultimately a joy to have. But this purpose, my life, is disorganized, hazy. I am busy working, but missing those moments that draw me into the meaning to really see it. It feels like I'm experiencing that part of life that, when I try to recollect it 20 years later, will become condensed into a one-sentence sweep of the hand. "I took care of the children and baby."

Reading that Dooce is having a watch party stands out as an activity so apart from what I do, that I have to at least pause and sort out why. It could be that this is merely the way of life for stay-at-home moms of small children, who are easily flustered and don't like getting out much. Maybe this is Me, right now.

Or maybe this is like the time I got my first job. I was a cashier at Winn-Dixie, and after my first day, I went to bed and dreamed that I was checking out customers, and couldn't stop. Swipe, beep, swipe, beep, swipe, beep. Over and over all night. I couldn't wake up. I tried.

Being a mother is mostly about repetitive tasks right now: breakfast, clean up, direct children, lunch, clean up, direct children, snack, direct children, dinner, clean up, direct children. Sleep. Wake. Repeat. And I could easily see slipping into some sort of stupor, especially for my personality that wants goal-oriented activities.

So perhaps it's only that my brain and soul have fallen asleep with the busyness of taking care of small children/running a house/dealing with life's issues. Maybe putting in a bit of effort to organize and make moments happen that stop to consider the meaning in my life will help take away that haze I feel.

It could be something else as well. It could a lot of somethings. It could be that the reason Dooce's watch party made my heart suddenly long for something is that it'd be nice to have an intimate gathering of true friends over something special. Or maybe it was a pang for heaven. And maybe it just sounded blissful to have the time to host a party and to know you'd be able to watch an entire movie uninterrupted!

I'm still not sure, but I found my reaction so strange, that it was worth the pause to think about.

6 Weeks

Maddi's last three weeks are gone. Never to be experienced again, which is sad, and also slightly a relief (considering how stressful the transition can be!).

Just after she turned 3 weeks, the congestion turned into an all-out cold. This was sad (hearing a newborn breathe through a congested nose would make even the most stoic man feel sympathy), but there was a consolation: more sleep!

It seems Madelyn is ready to turn my ideas of newborn behavior on its head, because it was at this point that she began sleeping in much longer stretches! She would go to sleep around 9:30 or so and sleep until 2:30 or 3:00, nurse again and sleep until 8:00 or even later. What sickly child sleeps better? Our oldest two have always slept very little when they are the least bit under the weather. Thankful yet again for the gentle way that things have gone for me so far.

The early bedtime lasted about a week, but just after she turned the Big 1 Month, she began getting fussy in the afternoons, which quickly evovled into fussy afternoons and evenings, and then (watch my anxiety increase here) into fussy afternoons, evenings and early mornings. For an entire week and a half, most days she would be fussy from 4pm until midnight, or one, or two in the morning.

Just like I knew I would, my fears about losing sleep, and remembering Emma, and my depression then, came back and it was hard for me to feel in control, to be calm, and to stare at the moment unafraid.

Thankfully, I noticed that I was having digestive problems, and found that in the last week and a half I'd been introducing more dairy and wasn't digesting well, which of course made me wonder about Maddi. I nixed the dairy (raw milk had the worst effect! sadness!) on the Sunday after she turned five weeks, and by Wednesday her fussiness was gone, and she went to bed at 8pm! Not only that, but the newborn acne that had suddenly appeared around the same time as her fussiness, disappeared as well.

We had a few good nights - what am I saying?! LOVELY nights - of afternoon and early evening naps and 8pm bedtimes, 3am feedings, and 7am wakings. Yes! Lovely is the word.

Now we're at the 6 week growth spurt, which really isn't all too bad. She's waking every 3-4 hours (just last night) and eating almost every 2-3 during the day, which is more than usual but looks quite normal for a newborn when I write it down. I still feel rested, so "growth spurt" doesn't quite send the chills down my spine like it did with my other two.

I went for her check up on Friday, and she's up to 11 lbs, 7 oz. (only 5 oz in 3 weeks), but she's grown to 23 inches. It's hard to imagine what it must be like to grow 1 and 1/2 inches in 3 weeks. I would go from 5' 3" to 5' 5 1/2"! But that's what Maddi did, and the reason her sleepers are stretched to the max when I zip her in. Time to upgrade, I suppose.

It's a funny phenomenon that every mother on the planet watches her children grow - even if she goes on to have 10 of them - and wonders in amazement that they, well, grow. It's expected, it's anticipated, it's inevitable. But it feels abnormal. It's a miracle. The same kind of miracle that causes one cell to divide into two, and to continue dividing until you meet Madelyn Ruth. It's supernatural. It shouldn't happen here!

It's also wrong. It feels wrong in the way that death feels wrong. Why should people leave us? Why should they go? They're meant to be here, with me, beside me, all the rest of our eternal days. But they don't.

Babies growing is so very close to death, because from the moment they are born, they begin the process of leaving you. Pregnancy is the very closest and most intimate a woman will be with her baby. After that, it is a race to independence, a race to escape.

The first day I dropped off my children at the Mother's Day Out program at a church, I was upset. I knew I would be, since most mothers are, but I wanted to know why. Why am I crying? I'd decided I felt good about the decision, happy to give them this solution to a difficult situation, and satisfied to compromise on my ideals. It was Good.

Then why was I so sad? Really, why was I mourning?

I called a dear friend, whose children were having children, and she talked with me. The week before, she dropped off one of her grandchildren for his first day of daycare, and she cried as well. She explained that it is a kind of loss. To watch your children grow and mature, it means they must walk away from you, and it is very sad to be left.

I understand better why I hold onto my ideals so dearly. It is because they are IDEAL. They are normal. It is God's will for us to never leave each other, but to fellowship forever. It is a very good thing for mothers to be with their children, rather than to send them prematurely with someone else. Why rush the loss?

I feel it every day that Maddi grows. I rejoice in it (oh how cute her grins and babble are!), but it is so sad to think that she will leave me. That she will not need me, or be as close to me.

I'm so glad that Time is not forever (ha! what a statement to unload). I'm so glad I only have to endure the change, the leaving, the dying, the growing for now, to be perfected and to learn to love Jesus. It's a wonderful hope to have!

Lentils

I had a bag of lentils that I'd been avoiding. Thankfully, my overpowering hunger from nursing helped me get over my lack of lentil knowledge and go for it. I winged it (which is usually good for me: no overthinking) and came up with something pretty tasty.

Lentils

Saute 1 med yellow onion and 4 large cloves of garlic (both chopped/minced) in a couple tablespoons of olive oil.

Add 1 small carrot, finely chopped, 1 cup of lentils and 3 cups of liquid (I used 1 1/2 c. chicken broth and the rest water).

Add a few dashes of thyme, ground coriander, cumin and cayenne pepper. Add 2 tsp salt and some freshly ground pepper.

Simmer about 10 minutes, then add a handful of curly parsely, chopped finely. Finish cooking.

At the very end, add the juice of half a lemon. Serve with butter and rice.

I do wonder if anyone else has a better version of lentils. It could use some more flavor, I think!

Coo

Today, Madelyn looked deeply into my eyes, smiled with her own, and said to me, "Cooo."

I said, "What is it, sweet girl?"

"Cooo."

"Yes?"

"Cooooo."

And yes, my heart melted. Again.

Newborn Can't-Do-Withouts

While we're at it, I might as well round off my string of postpartum posts with my own list of newborn must-haves. And no, the perfect jogging stroller is not on it.

When I think of everything you would need for a newborn, I have in my mind a picture of this tiny little person who cannot move on her own, cannot play with toys - cannot even hold a toy - and cannot venture out much due to her constant needs for feeding, changing and loving.

I mean, really, at least the first month a newborn and her caretaker are busy just existing. It's just not a time for playdates and activity gyms. Those can come later. I am thinking of those items that consume your life those first weeks; those things you use so often you could quite possibly use them while sleepwalking or spend your 2 hours of sleep at night dreaming of using them.

Newborn Necessities:

-Diapers (1 Jumbo package of size Newborn, 2 Jumbo packages of size 1 or your clean and ready-to-use cloth diapers and accessories. We use Pampers Swaddlers for the first few weeks and then switch over to Luvs once we move into size 1. I never got around to switching to cloth diapers, but have no regrets either.)

-Wipes (We've used Pampers Sensitive with all three children. Would love to have made my own, but see above.)

-Burp cloths (Which in my household means: cloth diapers! Just know that there's birdseye flatfold and then there's prefolded 3-ply. I like the birdseye since they're not bulky, but still absorbent.)

-Onesies or sleepers (Depending on the season, and be sure to grab 3 month sizes as well - they grow like Chia pets!)

-Baby hat (to keep her warm)

-1 plush, cosy blanket

-2-3 receiving blankets

-1 sheepskin rug (I want one to sleep on too.)

-Thermometer (Take baby's temp the first few days.)

-Alcohol swabs or essential oils (like lavender) for cord care.

-Small bottle of olive oil for baby's bottom (Makes cleaning the meconium - that first, tarry bowel movement - a much easier job; if you continue to use it, it will help prevent rashes as well.)

-Coconut oil (This is new to my list. Maddi had so many rolls that she began to get a rash around her neck and in her diaper area. Coconut oil is antibacterial, -fungal and - viral, which cleared it up right away. Country Comfort works really well also.)

-Burt's Bees Apricot Oil (After 4 1/2 years with 3 children, it's ingrained in my brain that this is the way a newborn smells!)

-Humidifier

-Carseat

-Swing or something else for those times you need to sit baby down.

-Pacifier (Unless you've already decided you don't want your baby to use one, grab one just in case. You might like them, you might not. Your baby may or may not like them as well. In our case, our third baby finally took one, but we haven't given it to her much, since I wanted to make sure she could nurse really well before we did. We give it to her occasionally, and plan to do so for car rides or when we're out and about and I can't plop down to nurse her.)

-Sling: Slings are awesome. Ring slings, Moby wraps, Mei Teis, they're all great. Get one (or make one) and try it. Being hands-free and luggage-free when you go out with your baby is wonderful, and makes you feel better about being out with a newborn, since she's close to you (on you!) and no stranger can cause you anxiety by planting their face inches from hers or (worse!) asking to hold her. Also great for fussy babies. Emma slept constantly in my sling while around the house, and it calmed Joseph when he had fussy moments.

-One large basket to keep these items easy to grab.


A few things NOT on the list:
-Bathing items: You don't need a special washcloth, tub or towel, although you might want them. I don't like to use any kind of soap for a while on newborns, although Aveeno and Burt's Bees make good ones.

-Lots of clothes: But really, if this were my first girl, I'd go crazy. I already have a stock of cute outfits! :)

-An assortment of strollers: We have one because it came with the carseat and we've used it once at a park. One time in a month! I'm sure we'll use it more as she gets older and we get out more.

-Crib and bedding: This is just my preference. We had a crib and bedding for our first, and he actually used it and slept there from day 3 on. My second never slept, so no bed was needed! Maddi sleeps in a small, travel-sized bassinet/pack-n-play in our room, with her sheepskin rug.

-Toys: Puh-lease. Although Maddi does have a stuffed animal. :)

-Diaper pail system: More trouble than it's worth. We just toss dirty diapers in sacks and then outside in the garage or trash can, if they're bad. But breastfed babies don't really have stinky bowel movements.

-Baby monitor: We had this with our first and it plagued my sleep! I couldn't sleep at all, afraid that blasted intercom would blare a screaming baby into my ear. I would rather have a baby in my room than have the monitor. (But I also hate alarm clocks and refuse to use them. Maybe there was too much similarity!)

-Breastpump: I would get this next time, but it's not a necessity - unless you plan to go back to work!

3 Weeks

The past two weeks have flown by, but, of course, it's impossible to have stuffed the past two weeks in only 14 days. It feels more like 2 months.

Maddi hit some sort of growth spurt that Sunday after she turned 1 week and nursed around the clock for 3 days, making her nights fussy and sad. Aaron and I became zombies that whole week. We were absolutely exhausted and having deja vu. Happily, though, sometime midweek, I plopped Maddi in bed with me and determined to sleep. The precious girl slept happily snuggling next to Mama. Mama slept in some contorted position that involved a crooked neck, arm and arched back. But I slept.

By the next night, and the next she was realizing that darkness means sleep, or nursing and going back to sleep, and I was praising God each time she woke in the night and peacefully went back to sleep. Everyone prays for relief from suffering, and new mothers pray for sleep. It's impossible not to rejoice and skip for joy when a newborn sleeps.

Maddi didn't exactly get into this night-time pattern on her own. Through trial and error those nights late last week, it became clear that although Maddi was happy to sleep in the swing or your arms, she would not *stay* asleep after you lay her down. That is, unless she fussed to sleep. The strangest thing I've ever seen. She seems to prefer to fuss for 10 minutes or so and will sleep happily for hours. My balanced husband saw me wringing my hands over this business - of me trying to decide to Cry It Out or Attach herself to us - and lovingly said: "Kelly, if I want to pick her up and rock her to sleep, I will. If I think she needs to cry a bit to go to sleep, then that's what we'll do." I think that's called Balance, but I wouldn't know. I call it Sanity, and I'm thankful to have that blessed man around during the middle of the night!

That pattern has mostly continued this past week as well, and she'll usually go 4-5 hours between feedings at night, sleeping on her tummy on her sheepskin in her little bassinet. I feel wonderful.

Last weekend, my mom came to OKC to meet Maddi, and also to help with the children while Aaron and I went to a Bruce Edstrom conference in Norman. Maddi had her first public outing at Santa Fe Steakhouse. She slept through the entire dinner in her carseat. I kept glancing at her, wondering at it. I may sound over the top in my amazement at her sleeping, but it's a 180 degree turn from her sister, and still hard to believe.

We also stopped by the midwives to weigh Maddi girl and at a 2 1/2 weeks she weighed 11 pounds, 2 ounces and measured in at 21 1/2 inches. Excellent work, Madelyn!

She's congested right now, probably due to the fact that Emma, Joseph and I are also congested, with coughs. I hope it passes soon: it's a pitiful sound to hear a snuffly newborn.

I found myself anxious last week. It was a restless - rather than a panicky - anxiety, caused by asking myself over and over, "What am I to do now?". There's no return to life before baby, if for no other reason that it's been well over 10 months since there was a life without preparing for baby. How, then, do I create a life *with* baby? I ask myself this every time a baby comes, and stumble through it each time as well.

It feels strange to navigate life with a new person, and it's hard to get past the fact that my new life will mostly mean a repetition of domestic activities that are self-perpetuating. I will clean so that I can clean later; I will change diapers so that I can change more later. In this stage when the children are young, it's hard for me to see purpose beyond sustaining existence. And then I feel like the poor atheists, who wisely ask themselves, "Why am I working so hard to exist, when there's no point to existing?" Thankfully, my situation is short-lived, with great purpose behind all the mundane, circular tasks. (Not so for the atheists.)

It's helpful that over the last several years I've changed and begun to trust God will my moments and days, giving up control over the seemingly more important and urgent things that I really want to do. I'm willing to wait for big dreams or perfection, so I'm doing a bit better at handling the reality of each day.

I also have come to terms with Me. I love to be busy, love to keep my mind occupied with figuring things out, and so I'm happily taking on projects and planning and those things that are very much NOT repetitive, domestic activities. It feels good to do that, and to do it without being paranoid that others may find fault with that.

I think I'm on my way to growing up. My heart really is full. It's full of gratefulness for God's being tender with me in giving me Maddi. My heart is full of fear that it will get harder. My heart is full of praise for all the newness and promise that comes with our precious new girl. My heart is full of sadness at what our family is going through right now. It's full of confusion when I think about our future and how we don't know what to do now.

But I feel more solid, more secure than I have before. Because there is no searching except for Christ. I will not demand of Aaron to be my ceaseless comfort and wise advisor, or that the children be perfect, or that my emotions obey the truth. I'll ask for grace and ask that Jesus stay with me, because that's all I can hope for, and really all I know I want.

Postpartum Can't-Do-Withouts

This postpartum experience has been so much better than my second one. There are lots of factors to consider, but this is a list of things I had or did or others did for me that I feel made a huge impact on my good experience the first two weeks:

-The book 'Mothering the New Mother', which helped me to remember that new mothers need a great amount of care, and you should prepare for that without guilt or embarrassment.

-Childcare (having childcare lined up meant that I had the first 3 days to completely devote to Maddi and have Aaron take care of us. This was golden.)

-A list of people I knew I could rely on to give seasoned advice and/or a sympathetic ear.

-A menu and frozen food

-Extra money set aside for the inevitable increase in eating out, along with a list of good restaurants that serve fresh food.

-All the supplies and clothes and baby needs ready and waiting.

-Arnica pellets (for pain from birth and nursing)

-ContractEase (herbal tincture for afterpains - I drank 1-2 glasses of water with 20 drops every time I nursed for at least the first 4 days and it helped a lot)

-Lortab (helped the first two days with pains and as a side benefit baby slept a lot!)

-Placenta Encapsulation pills (helped so much I will probably tell everyone about them)

-Drenamin (supplement for stressed and overworked adrenal glands)

-Soup (homemade chicken and rice soup gave me energy and was so nice to my digestive system)

-Belly Bandit (gave me support for my back and stomach)

-Of course, nursing help: tea bags (boiled and cooled) to sooth, Lanolin, topical arnica, Boppy pillow

Nesting

Today Emma built a nest in the "backyard" of our duplex here in Tulsa. She used dirt and leaves. When she was done, Aaron and I heard her calling, "Burds! Burds! I have a nest for you! Come heeeeere!". And when they didn't come, she called again, looking up into the sky, "Hey guys! Hey guys! Come heeere! I have a nest for you!".

Our animal lover, for sure.

First Week Wrap-Up

Last night, Maddi had her first night that didn't involve a tiring amount of crying and patting. Fuss-free, oh the bliss! To top it off, we've made enough progress with nursing that I let Aaron sleep through the night. She woke at 1:30 and 3:30, then 6:30, and I nursed her on the couch - just us and the boppy - without too much soreness. It was a great way to end Maddi's first week with us.

Nursing
I think the pain and scabs peaked around Wednesday, but Saturday was the first day that the pain was mild enough to nurse on the couch in front of the kids. Trust me, when it hurts badly, it takes a lot of concentration and willpower just to latch on! I'm very grateful. Her tongue still clicks often when she's nursing, but we've practiced opening wide and staying wide constantly, and this seems the best she can do. She nurses much better on the left side, so we start on the right side, usually do a diaper-change/burp mid-feeding, then do the left side. To have moments of pain-free nursing gave me a glimpse of the moments I'll have the next year or so, nursing Maddi happily. I'm looking forward to it.

Sleeping
She started fussing at night Tuesday night, when we arrived to Tulsa. It got worse on Wednesday night, with her up for two hours straight crying. Thursday night and Friday night were a bit better, with peak fussiness between 1 and 3. Friday night wasn't too bad either. Last night, when she woke, I nursed her, changed her diaper, nursed on the other side, and let her nurse until it seemed she was asleep, then gently lay her down on her tummy in the bassinet. And she slept, bless her. She's slowly easing into the familiar pattern (Joseph did this!) of eating every 2-3 hours at night, and sleeping blissfully during the day, stretching her feedings to up to 4 hours! I will need some strategory for this soon. :)

Maddi just might be my Sleep Anywhere Baby! She will sleep on her tummy on a bed, in the bassinet, on the couch, on a blanket, on the sheepskin; she will sleep in the carseat (this seems to be her favorite - she likes cosiness), in our arms, upright, sideways (I haven't tried upside-down, though); she even slept while big brother held her. :) She will occasionally wake up after we lie her down, but otherwise sleeps very well.

Lately, it seems that during the day she will not even really wake up with some of her feedings, but go straight back to sleep. Sometimes, like earlier today after she ate at 2:00, she gets fussy and needs to be rocked. She took a paci almost right away - the day or two after birth - but we've used it rarely. I wanted to hold off until nursing was going well, just in case it affected that. I'm glad she takes it, because I wanted to be able to comfort her when I can't comfort her; when we're in the car, for example. Either way, it's nice to feel that she'll go to sleep when she's tired. I didn't have that confidence with precious Emmaline.

Diapering
Yeah, she's still not giving us any BMs on her own. She's upgraded to grunting in the last couple of days. We've resorted to giving her a glycerin rocket every other day or so, if she seems fussy after a meal. It should even itself out soon, though. She really dislikes diaper-changing time. It's the only time of the day she "loses" it! Today, Joseph ran out of the room while I was changing her diaper, and screamed "She's gonna cryyyyy!". :D

Growing
She barely fits into her NB or 0-3mos clothes! I've never had a baby do that before, and it's refreshing to know that I most likely won't worry about her gaining weight or being too small. We weighed her (very scientifically: I weighed myself, and then held her and weighed again), and it says that she now weighs 11.4 pounds! I can't imagine that's accurate, but who knows with my giant baby. :)

Maddi loves looking at the fan in the living room of the duplex here in Tulsa. She also loves looking at Mama. Of course, we all just *love* watching her smile after she nurses or in her sleep. It's adorable!! Emma loves when Maddi happens to smile after Emma's kissed her, and today Maddi stuck out her tongue just as Emma went in for a kiss! Emma thought that Maddi was hilarious and "trying to be silly". :)

Madelyn Ruth

She's here and she's lovely. Born on Saturday, 2/12/2011 at 2:35pm, weighing a shocking 10pounds 3ounces and 20 1/2 inches long. Her rolls know no end.

Last night, Tuesday night, her umbilical cord fell off and I wondered at it. When did it fall off with Joseph, and with Emma? I remember Joseph's drying faster than Emma's, and Emma's hanging on by a tiny thread for days. But when? I want to remember when. So, at least now I'll remember that Madelyn's cord fell off in the middle of the night Tuesday night, when she was 3 days old. That's satisfying.

Up until yesterday, she'd been quite the sleeper, but it's become apparent that part of that was Lortab, God bless it. What's also become apparent is that Maddy is not a high needs baby, thank our gracious God. It's no secret that I was anxious about that, Emma having been a very high needs baby. I'll say that I'm still very scared. I'm a mess without sleep. A train wreck. What if I lose too much sleep and slip into depression? Of course, God alone will be with me, just as God alone is with me now. So, I'll be remembering that as much now as much as later.

The first day Maddy was born, she didn't slip into that newborn coma that most do hours after birth. She was wide awake, nursing and quietly studying everything around her. Her traumatic entrance might have played its role there. It was finally around 10:00 or 11:00 that evening that I nursed her and she went to sleep. But she fussed and fussed off and on until 1:30, when I offered to nurse her again (since Aaron was taking care of her). Nursing was very easy that first day. So, he put her beside me on the bed and we nursed together, falling asleep. I woke again at 6:30 to nurse her, but Maddy and I both fell asleep before we could, and all three of us woke up at 9:00, surprised by some nice sleep.

She didn't change much on Sunday either, being very sleepy and nursing only sometimes. I didn't mind. I took a nap as well and thanked God that she was resting for me and that Lortab and ContractEase was making nursing doable this time around. By Sunday, the sore nipples made their appearance, and Sunday night was the first night that I had to work myself up to nursing, the pain was so bad. This happens every time, despite my best tries to latch on correctly. I also always use breastmilk on the nipples, letting them air-dry, and Lansinoh, and cooled tea bags. Either they don't work, OR perhaps it would be 10x worse without them? Yvonne said that it was the misfortune of red-heads to have sensitive skin. Great. At least experience from two other children brought comforting hope of it all passing soon.

That Sunday night, we went to sleep at 10:30, after nursing her, and didn't wake again until 2:30, when she nursed (after trying to rouse her!), and went back to sleep until 9:00! My body was so thankful for the rest, but she needed to nurse more.

Yvonne came for the check up on Monday and Maddy was still wonderfully healthy, although she hadn't had a bowel movement. Yvonne warned that Lortab can constipate both Mama and baby, so that I needed to wean off of it as soon as I could. By this time, I was feeling much better. Aaron had gone to Akin's to get arnica for me Sunday night, and within hours was able to walk to the bathroom, which I hadn't been able to do before! So I welcomed Yvonne's advice.

I took the Lortab Monday night and sure enough, Maddy slept a lot that night as well. We went to bed at 10:00, nursed her at 3:30, then woke at 9:00 Tuesday morning. Dr. Glinsky came to the house to adjust the family, and found that Maddy needed one of her cranials adjusted, her pelvis, her IC valve, a spot in her neck, and of course, her left shoulder, where Yvonne had to pull. I didn't take any more Lortab after Monday night, relying only on ContractEase, which worked fine by the third day.

After that, we left our wonderful nest to head for Tulsa, to be joined with the rest of the Trifecta, as Aaron calls our children. :) She slept in the carseat (which she loves - a first for my children!), and was "herself" until we hit the loudness of the children. Poor baby. She became unsettled as the night went on, and although she slept from 10:30 to 1:30, it was difficult to get her to sleep, and we knew something was wrong. She woke at 1:30 to nurse and did not end up sleeping again until 6:00. I'm exhausted.

We ended up trying a warm bath, massage and finally glycerin suppositories to get her to have a bm. The glycerin worked and she finally slept. She's fussy again today, so I'm hoping the constipation stops soon. No matter what kind of baby you have, there will be something that is not what you expect. Sin is here, you know.

It's Wednesday now, and the nursing is more manageable. The scabs are beginning to heal (yikes), the inflammation is a bit better, and I'm more in the habit of having her latch on, experience great pain for 5-10 seconds, and then have it subside as nursing continues. This is good news for me. Once nursing pain goes away, I feel much better about life in general.

The children love Maddy dearly. Joseph kept his distance at first, only handing her things (like a doll), or helping Daddy. He's getting more and more excited, now that he's becoming more familiar with her crying. Emma was elated from the beginning, and we've had fits from her when we ask her to leave her alone. She wants to carry "Baby Sistah", hold her, feed her, give her blankets, kiss her, hold her fingers. She says she will take care of her.

May God continue to grant me thankfulness! And rest.