what the Proverbs 31 woman doesn't tell you...

This was my dining room table yesterday afternoon around 2:15PM. 

This picture perfectly captures the struggle of the day to day for us mothers who both work and stay at home with our children... trying to meet their needs and keep them challenged and creative while trying to keep our households and business affairs in order.

I am feeling a little overwhelmed the last few days... there are so many irons on the fire here at our house. 

I have been working every day this week. I leave at 3, so I try to pack as much as I can get done into the morning/early afternoon hours. 

The house is a mess. We've done the laundry but it never got folded. The floors are horrendously dirty and need a sweep and hand mop. The bathroom needs cleaning. The bedrooms need cleaning. 

Kids need baths. 

My oldest son has been having a pretty rough week and we discovered that he was already failing two classes, and it appears that he is having a hard time adjusting to middle school. I have mentioned this before but for those who don't know, he is most definitely on the Spectrum, most likely Asperger's... we treat severe distractability and impulsivity with med used to treat ADHD... and it appears he is really not adjusting to all the additional sensory and logistical changes. This has been a big stressor this week, making calls to teachers and counselors, to Dakota's dad, and to the homeschool people, trying to decide how to "solve" this particular problem. 

Taxes are coming due.

Jason has some really big possibilities coming up with work...

I have my shop to think about - so much inventory to add and no time. Trying to find a balance with that...

And Bethel - Jason and I started a 2 year intensive Bible study called Bethel and we have soooo much reading to do... getting up at 6:00AM is just going to have to become the new normal... even earlier probably, to get it all done.

I feel like working less will solve the issues with Dakota in some way. I need to be home with him more so I can help him after school. I feel so disconnected from him and when there is all this struggle I really want to be there as much as I can. 

Just feeling a little overwhelmed with everything on my plate right now... as a mother, as a wife... as a homemaker. In every way. 

What the Proverbs 31 woman doesn't tell you is that she has to get up before the sun comes up because there's just not enough time to get anything done!

heightened senses

I haven't had a job where I worked outside of the home since August 2006. At that time I was promoted and given the opportunity to work from home instead of having to go into the office everyday, which I did for three years for the corporation I worked for at the time, until September 2009 when I was laid off. Shiloh was 13 months when that happened and I had been back to work since she was three months old. I managed to keep my work done and be present for all calls, be at my desk working and still manage her care. I am not sure how I did it, except I knew it couldn't go on much longer by the time they laid me off. A crying baby being heard on a conference call is not very professional.

My husband started a job working from home also in August 2007. He worked from home from then until late July 2010. So, we've all been at home, together for pretty much the last five years of our almost six year marriage. Always with our children, always taking care of them. Always around each other. And we have a generally harmonious relationship, in case you're wondering. It didn't bother us to be around each other so much. We really like each other.

Shiloh at her "un-birthday" at school earlier this month

So, I haven't really been away from my husband or my kids much in a good long while. Since Noah was born I haven't done any work except starting this blog and my vintage shop on Etsy and occasional cake jobs. 

I love my job. The staff at Table and Main are great, the restaurant is excellent in both service and food and I am so proud to be a part of it. It gives me the opportunity to provide for my family and on a much more superficial (but maybe not so superficial) note, requires me to get dressed and put makeup on, the latter being a very rare occurrence unless it's Sunday or I am going out... or to work as of late. 

I won't lie though. I really miss my kids. 

Noah and Shiloh in the double stroller for the Inman Park Festival

The other night, a couple was in with their 15 month old little daughter. It's rare to see kids at the restaurant. If people come there who happen to have kids, they are probably leaving them with a sitter, because Table and Main is just so good, they wouldn't want to rush the experience. I don't blame them. I often stand at the host stand gazing longingly upon the fried chicken and absurdly delicious collard greens strongly desiring to go out to dinner with my husband, drink bourbon and wine and eat heartily as well until they kick us out. But alas, I am dreaming.

But back to the cute 15 month old... gosh she was darling. She was trying to jump and showing off just like my little Noah Bear does... and it reminded me of him, and my heart just melted as I thought about Daddy getting to get some snuggles and put him to bed... his soft, sweet, honey blonde hair wrapped around his fingers as Daddy rubs the nape of his neck to soothe him to sleep. Oh how I miss that.

So I guess they say that when one sense goes down, the other four go into a heightened state.

And as a mother, I feel that I have entered a heightened state of awareness of the preciousness, tenderness and beauty of my children, and my time with them. 

Bedtime routines seem more sacred. Diaper changes more treasured than before... Sweet snuggles in the night from my daughter as she climbs into bed are more welcome, and accompanied by a tighter hug than usual and a reminder that she is my girl and that I love her so. More patience with Dakota... more willingness to actually listen to him describe every detail of his video game to me. More hugs, more kisses, more quiet correction. Cracking the bedroom door in the mornings to see my blue eyed darling baby boy see me, light up and bounce in his bed in excitement to see the Mama that he last saw when she put him down for his afternoon nap... as he proceeds to tell her in his still incomprehensible baby talk to give his Bear a kiss, and to talk to me about Dinosaurs, and how he wants his ba-ba. 

This heightened sense of this irreplaceable time, the sweetness and tenderness of these children, their value to me has taken over and invaded my life. And that is okay. 

You know, I felt guilt going out on my own for Mother's Day. I really just wanted to be with my kids. This is kind of new-ish... I might not have felt that before I got this job.

Noah was making this face in the car, bobbing his head to Jamiroquoi the other day. We were cracking up!

I have taken for granted in the past how fleeting this season is. Maybe this is what I needed... a swift kick in the pants... my reality upset... to be the one to enthusiastically say I want to put Noah to bed tonight, and taking the time to rock him when he normally wouldn't even need it... to snuggle a little longer with my girl at bedtime, to tuck Dakota in, to give him more grace and choose my battles even more consciously... to plan my days out a bit better to ensure we have quality time together before I have to go to work (something I need to do better). 

I love my babies. <3

since we're on the topic of motherhood...

my sister gave me this precious locket today for mother's day w/ pics of my kids in it. 

I became a mother twelve days after my 21st birthday. 

Just ten months before, I'd met my son's father. We quickly moved in together, and shortly thereafter, I found out I was pregnant. Do the math. Just twenty, I was in the midst of a few years of very reckless living, to put it lightly. These are years my mother cringes at when spoken of, if that tells you much. I pretty much "had everything going for me" before I turned 17, and by twenty, I had completely trashed my life. As if God knew the only way to save me from the utter depths of my dive into drug culture was to awaken my senses to life. So he put Dakota in my belly. He knew that I couldn't continue to do the things I was doing knowing there was a life inside of me. When I took my pregnancy test, I had just handed off a massive pina colada and a cigarette to Dakota's dad in a flash moment realizing to myself that "I probably should take this pregnancy test before I consume this drink". I will never forget that moment sitting on the toilet in my apartment in Decatur. We were watching TV on the same old UHF/VHF TV set my Mom bought when she moved into her own place after she and my Dad split, some stupid movie, maybe Zorro? I don't know... I just had this moment, I knew I was late, I'd bought the test... and it was positive. Life changed forever. Completely changed. Within five months I was married, sober, and trying to make beauty from ashes on my own... 

To say that becoming a mother changed me is to put it lightly. Becoming a mother literally saved my life. And here's something even more mind blowing... in the midst of my deepest, darkest place, God put this gift of a child... the most PRECIOUS gift, the most INTENSE love, the most PROFOUND encounter and understanding of SACRIFICE, the most beautiful treasure on this earth - he gave that to my in the midst of my deepest darkest place... what kind of Father gives a gift like that to a child who has run far away, who is still so far off that there is no hope of his returning? This was a profound and life changing encounter with God and his love for me, and was the beginning of my long return Home to relationship with Christ, after many years of yo-yo-ing between the world and it's intoxications and the intoxication of Jesus' love, which still melts me even now.

Fast forward eight years... remarried, pregnancy planned after sadly losing two precious babies... everything within my being prayed that this baby would stay firmly in my belly until her dawn into this world. I held onto her so tightly, there was a lesson her coming into being and her entrance into this world that God wanted to teach me about letting go and about his unique plan for her life. He wanted to upset my agenda; upset my methodology; upset my plans. He wanted to show my that even though things don't go the way you think they ought to, the way they occur is perfect, because they are according to His plan, which is perfection, and is unique to the design for the baby he has created. For me, this was and is scary... surrender is complete vulnerability, exposure, abandonment of the mind and the will, floating on the waves of chance, but trusting the design in the waves... does that make sense? Still, so many lessons... from the beginning... these little lives so transformational from their inception... conception... so much power in a life, so much Power in a life. 

Then Noah - my Bear, my treasure... tonight, I held him like a little baby and rocked him to sleep in a rare moment with my rough and tumble and busy boy. He is getting too big and my heart literally breaks at the thought. I am utterly captivated and in love with this beautiful child. My heart is a big puddle of goo when I look at him. With this precious babe, I surrendered. I opened my heart and mind to God's will for his birth, his life... though I am holding on so tightly and so in love, I just wonder sometimes if God would take him from me? He came into the world in a completely uneventful and natural birth. Again, fear creeps up... is God giving it to me easy now so that I will be ready for the fight later? I don't know. And it's silly to think this way... but shouldn't there be a formula? The only formula is cause and effect... sowing and reaping... and I pray that the Lord has mercy on me with my babe.

Yes, the cliches of motherhood all apply here. I am most definitely one to nod yes and all of the same stay at home mom standard complaints and stereotypes that exist. Do I savor alone time? Yes. Do I sometimes wish that I had not squandered my twenties and been free to become an adult without a child by my side? YES, all the time. Do I sometimes find myself daydreaming about what life will be like when I can leave my kids for long weekends and go on trips alone with my husband? Um, yeah. But, well, here -- let me pull out yet another cliche for you -- I wouldn't trade the lessons, the joy, the pain, the heartache, the tears, the heart swollen with pride, love, joy..., the transformation that has occurred within me for anything at all... 

In their beginnings, in their lives, there is something so deep about the connections we have as mothers with our children... something no other person in their lives will be able to experience. What an honor. What a gift. What a treasure. To care for their basic needs... to nurture and love and minister to their hearts... the return is worth it all, and even if there is no return at all... we have been changed. I have been changed. 

what mama wants for mothers day

minnetonka fringe ankle booties

gunne sax praire dress

beautiful crewel embroidered wall art

crochet poncho

vegetable plants

big planters

dirt

and where mama wants to go for mother's day...

marietta farmer's market

R. Thomas

Little 5 Points

even tougher...

sunset at overlook near Fort Mountain State Park, North GA

...opening your eyes and your heart and gaining perspective...  and realizing that you're missing out on the really important big stuff by letting the little stuff chew you up and spit you out... and one day you will wake up, and the little stuff will be gone, and you wonder why you were so unhappy then, because you miss it so much and would give anything for a second chance.

...resisting the urge to fight back, allowing yourself to be corrected, disciplined, molded and mended in the Potter's hands.

...calling some things with names that are meant to validate me what they actually are: rooted in pride.

...choosing joy.

Just some lessons I am beginning to learn since my last post. 

(photos taken August 2009 in North GA in a single day while out hiking with the fam)

tough.

I've seen this blog post linked I don't know how many times in the last several weeks on Facebook and Twitter or whatnot, followed by many an amen from mothers like myself who feel validated when the voice of someone with the same thoughts and feelings concerning the plight of motherhood illuminates their own experience... an experience that largely, I've found, goes unexpressed with great honesty. 

The pretty pictures, the image, the facade that draws us in... it's beautiful and I respect it, and aspire to "do it all", but I fear that I spend too much time comparing myself to the writers of some of the blogs I read. I wonder if their blogs really reflect accurately the life that they lead... If I am honest, I envy their style, their financial flexibility, their apparent endless creativity and patience poured out on their children, and I question over and over my own state of mind concerning my role as a mother ...at home... day after day after day... and wonder what is wrong with me. Most days, I am just unhappy.

One thing I've found as I've entered the blogging world is that it is largely filled with other women - mothers - looking to 1) express themselves creatively (via many mediums, including the blog itself), 2) connect with other women/mothers and 3) make money doing it all. There is nothing wrong with any of this. I fit all three of these categories. But one thing I really wrestle with is the fact that in item # 1, in my need to express, I cannot fake it and pretend that all is well when it simply isn't. I write very candidly, honestly and openly about our life, circumstances and struggles, about my emotional and mental state, and I embarrass my mother in the process. However, I just can't do it any other way. This blog is just as much for me as it is for you. And I really need to connect with those of you who relate to where I am. I have found that through blogging, through the comments, and affections of many readers. For that, I am thankful. You all make me feel "normal". 

So when I say to you now that I am struggling... 

That I feel like a robot, not a woman, a wife, or an individual...

That some nights when the kids are finally in bed, I dread the fact that I have to wake up and do the same thing all over again the next day...

That I sometimes feel trapped and depressed...

That I yell too much and play too little...

That I don't enjoy being a stay at home mother most days...

That I don't even look in the mirror most mornings when I wake up...

That I can't imagine how some of you have five kids, when I am struggling this much with three...

That I am not sure what the solution is right now to feeling better, though I have some ideas.

So today, I got up and I went through the morning routine... kids to school (rounds 1 and 2), then went to Harry's (aka Whole Foods) to buy my grandmother (whose birthday is today - 86) some flowers and cupcakes, and decided it was time to actually purchase those supplements I have been meaning to purchase for some time. I bought 5-HTP with a little B vitamins in the mix, GABA, and a women's multi. I still need the Barlean's, but this will do for now. I am hoping to see a change in my overall response to stress and an improvement in my mood.

When I got to my Mamaw's, I broke out the bottles to take my first pills as she was telling me that she has been depressed also, and always is this time of year. We talked (she and I have always been close) about mothering as I chased Noah around the living room and kitchen, and motherhood, and she told me about her struggles... how she was very depressed at times, at home with her children, and my Papaw working all the time. She had family help (and other help later) come and live in with them to help take care of the children so that she could get out of the house and work also. She told me some other stories that were just - well, sad for her, but made me understand more about myself. Her mother had 8 or 9 if I remember right... and they had no other choice but to stay at home with their children! There was no contraception - they were just country people, and the mamas birthed their babies in the back room. How on earth did they manage? They weren't entitled to "girls nights" or "me time"...  yet it wasn't even any easier... This gives me perspective.

I looked at pictures of my great-grandma Judd (Roxie) - my Grandmama Nellie's mama's family - her mama had 8 kids in ten years (only one of them a boy)!!!! And I KNOW what those women are like... all I can say is, poor Ivy Mae. Here's a picture of them all... the farmhouse is in Kansas where they all lived before the Depression.

The truth is, I'm struggling to find joy in this role right now. I think the circumstances of our life and trying to get back on our feet is an added stress that is exacerbating my emotional state at the moment. The fact that I feel called to stay in this role also for the sake of my husband learning his path as both a man and a provider is something that is causing me to really have to dig deep and in the process of digging, I am unraveling a bit... letting go of some old thought patterns... becoming vulnerable in a way that I don't think even I understand. 

And this is the beginning of that process, I am sure...  to be able to see and accept all that occurs within chronos time for what it is, but come to a deeper place of knowing that the kairos time is overarching, and the facilitator of the weaving together of the cloth of this life that has my name - our name - on it.