Wanted: A Brave Heart

Not long after I discovered that I was pregnant with my first son, I went out and bought one of those Pregnancy books/journals that provides a 'comprehensive' list of the gazillion items you 'need' to have before your little bundle arrives. But amongst all of the other baby items that start with the letter B, like Boppy, Bassinet, Bumbo, Bottle, etc...I'm pretty sure they forgot to include one very important 'B' item that is absolutely necessary for motherhood, a Brave heart.  Being a mom requires bravery. I sometimes have it, and often times I don't. This fact was flushed out recently during our "New Years Eve Adventure." I call it an adventure because it was neither planned nor predicted and through it, a new reality unfolded for me in a smack-you-in-the-face kind of way.

On the last day of the year, it really hit me that my kids are a gift. Yeah, yeah, I know every parent says that. But what I mean is that they are a gift in the sense that they are not mine, they have been gifted to me, on loan to me for an uncertain amount of time. They are not my possessions in the same way that my favorite shirt is my possession. I knew when and where I would buy my shirt. And now I decide when I'll wear it and with what I'll wear it. And I decide what that shirt will do each day, usually one of 3 options: hang in my closet, adorn my body, or hang out in the wash. Or the occasional fourth option, chill on my floor. And I choose when I will stop wearing the shirt and pass it on to its next home, aka Goodwill, where someone else will make it their own. A shirt can be considered "mine," but my kids, no, they are not mine. I did not choose when they would come into my life (although I of course had something to do with it). Had I had total control over that, the first would have come sooner, and the second, perhaps not so soon. And ultimately, I don't have control over what my kids do on a daily basis despite my deepest desires for said control. Of course I set parameters, model behaviors, and discipline for "bad choices," but if I could really control exactly what my children do, this:

aka our New Years Eve Adventure, would not have happened. And I certainly cannot control when my children will no longer be on this earth. This point, if I stop to dwell on it for any length of time, reduces me to tears and leaves me with a deeper ache than I know what to do with. No, my children are not mine to control. I can love them. I can guide them. I can teach them. I can discipline them. I can try to protect them. I can empower them. But they will make their own choices. They will fall. They will get up. They will be hurt and they will hurt. They will laugh and they will cry. They will try. They will fail. They will succeed. They will love. They will lose. They will celebrate and they will grieve. More than anything I want for them to love and love deeply with their hearts wide open, but this is a strong and courageous act. And that's not something that I can force them to do, only something that I can model for them. But that is of course, easier said than done. When the cruelties of this world aim their assaults in the direction of my kids, more than a brave face is needed, a brave heart is required.

Meuz Family - 1, Captain Kill-Joy - 0

I once read a book entitled, ‘Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff,’ and ever since I have been practicing letting go of things that aren’t really a big deal, sometimes with success, and sometimes not so much.  As I try  not to sweat the small stuff, I am also working hard to celebrate the small stuff. And in a season (that of 2 kids under 2) where small victories mean everything, I’d like to take a moment to enjoy a little celebration. You see, we’ve recently encountered a certain Captain Kill-Joy. Do you know him? He comes around every so often and tries to kill our joy in different ways. Lately, he hops in the back seat of our car (smooshed in between the two car seats) and taunts Tom and I, “ha ha, your kids rule your life, why even bother going out. You can’t do anything you like to do anymore. You should just stay home. They’re so little, they won’t have fun. Go home. It will be more of a hassle than anything. You’re too old and tired to do this.”  And on and on and on. Captain Kill-Joy, we’re not so pleased to meet you. Why don’t YOU go home.

Kids are in fact, a life changer, but one of the best life changers I've ever experienced. And it’s true, we are in a season where we can’t just hop in the car and go for a spontaneous mountain adventure like we used to. But kids bring a joy that is different than any I’ve ever known. It’s a joy that far surpasses any climb up a 14er, any kayak adventure around the Great Barrier Reef, any backpack trip along the ocean. And that joy comes in small, easy to miss moments, like when you ask Ben who loves him and he starts in on a montage, “mama, dada, nana, oma, opa, papa, bwake (blake), moon, Jesus, trash truck, tea, airplane…” or when you hold Blake in your arms and he looks up at you with his deep blue eyes and throws the tiniest, sweetest smile your way. Or, like this weekend, when you watch your kids' faces light up when you take them on a snow adventure.

All that to say, Tom and I are trying to find balance in it all. We don’t want to be those parents who act as if nothing in their life changed, who just keep on doing all of the things they were doing before kids, only now they haul their kids along with them. But we also don’t want to be the parents who stop doing anything and everything we love because our lives revolve solely around our children. We’re striving for a middle ground somewhere, a ground that allows us to take this season to focus on our kids while still making each other a priority and intentionally carving out time to do things that are life-giving to both of us.  That is the ground we’re looking for. And we may just have found that middle ground this past weekend in Breckenridge.


With Blake hitting the two-month mark, we decided to attempt our first weekend getaway to the mountains. Captain Kill-Joy tried to thwart our efforts. And as I was packing (Tom was out of town the 3 days before we left), the Captain whispered in my ear, ‘is all this effort really worth it?’ Well, as it turns out, it was. Take that, ya lil captain. Moments of playing on the floor with cars and trains were interspersed with moments of sipping hot beverages, while gazing out at the snow-capped mountains.  There were of course some tears, thankfully belonging only to Ben and Blake, but there were even more smiles and laughter to boot. We limited our agenda to one outing a day, the Snow Sculpture festival one day and snow-shoeing the next. And with a little side trip to a coffee shop to warm up after our snow fun, we got the added bonus of the cutest (we’re biased) hot-cocoa face you’ve ever seen.

In an attempt to avoid the horrendous I-70 traffic and maximize the kids’ sleeping time, we decided to go to dinner in Breck before leaving around 7, which is the boys’ bedtime. Captain Kill-Joy made one last hard core effort to take us down as both boys cried through all of dinner. We probably should have asked for to-go boxes right away and bailed, but we stuck it out. Then we hopped in the car, 1 out of 2 boys still crying and headed for home, only to be greeted by the bright red glow of brake lights. What? 8pm and there’s still crazy mountain traffic, you’ve got to be kidding me. But we cranked up the music and decided not to let the ole Captain have his way with us. We rolled in at 10pm, tired but not defeated. We looked at each other and said, ‘that was a fun weekend and totally worth it. When can we do it again?’

Meuz Family – 1, Captain Kill-Joy – 0.

Lessons Learned: You CAN do things you love even with young kids, it just may be a tamer version; Keep it simple; Always be prepared to bail on a plan; Always have good music in your car; Hot beverages can bring an ounce of calm to even the most chaotic of moments; Choose joy...always.

12 Intentions for 2012

12 Intentions for 2012
I am a goals person. I love setting them. I love reaching them. And I love the journey in between. This year, I have a plethora of goals, perhaps too many. I may not reach some of them and I'm actually ok with that, because holding loosely is the constant goal of my life. So, this year, I thought I'd start with some overarching themes, things I'm aiming for, aiming to be, aiming to live out in my daily life, followed by some specific goals. I'm simply calling them my intentions and here they are, in no particular order:

1. Love in tangible ways - Kiss 3 guys every day (my 3 guys, that is) and get down on the floor for some fun, silly time with each boy, each and every day.
2. Call it like I see it - Choose to see the positives and the strengths and the qualities I appreciate in Tom and call them out to him on a daily basis
3. Come to the table - Eat meals sitting at the table with Ben, helping to make mealtime one of the most fun times of the day.
4. Speak life and possibility into the lives of those around me. Enough said.
5. Choose whole foods - eat foods and serve foods to my family that do our bodies good, foods found in their purest form. Try new and creative combinations.
6. Turn and look upwards, often - Engage with my maker all throughout the day.
7. Make a S.H.I.F.T. - Strong, Healthy, Inspired, Fast, Toned (Stroller Strides 3x/wk, Run a 1/2 marathon, Olympic Distance Triathlon)
8. Write from the inside out - Write often, short, long, about nothing, about everything, sensical, non-sensical, profound or insignificant, unedited, just write.
9. Be not afraid to expand my horizons and explore new possibilities - Get Stroller Strides Instructor certification.
10. Be a mover not a shaker - Sell our home and move into a new home w/ a little more space and closer to the people and mountains we love.
11. Get my green groove on - Create a garden and grow some goodness (dependent on #10).
12. Chronicle my journey with authenticity and joy - blog 1x/week

Always Darkest Before the Dawn

For those of you that read my last couple of posts, you might have thought I was falling apart a bit. That's ok. I'm ok. More than anything, I'm just aiming to be honest and authentic about my journey, the sweet, amazing parts AND the disappointing, trying times. What I've found to be quite fascinating is that these often occur together, side by side. I sometimes feel like I'm living in a circle of paradoxes.Tears adorn laughter. Frustration dances with contentment. Anger smack dab in the middle of love. Energy in the midst of exhaustion. Beauty in the midst of struggle. Connection alongside loneliness. Fear intertwined with trust. As a mom, my love for my boys feels both euphoric and terrifying, for it runs that deep. But my appreciation for those paradoxes is growing, maybe not always in the moment in which they are occurring, but in the end. I believe that they provide a contrast that truly enriches us. I know loss because I know love. I so greatly appreciate a good belly laugh because I also know gut wrenching tears.

In the last two weeks, I feel like I have turned a corner. As Florence (and the Machine) has so wonderfully reminded me in her song, Shake it Out, it's always darkest before the dawn (By the way, that song makes me want to dance, dance all the darkness away. Check it out!). I wrote the last two posts about 3 weeks ago and since then it feels as though the dawn has come. I feel brighter. I feel the strength and grace of my Maker. I don't know how else to put it. Perhaps those crazy hormones have died down a bit. Perhaps it's because I've begun to find a rhythm and establish good routines. Perhaps it's because I'm figuring out just how fabulously helpful one deep breath can be amidst two screaming kids. Perhaps it's because I'm getting slightly more sleep. I'm guessing it's a combo of sorts. Regardless of the whys, I am grateful and hopeful and joyful. That's not to say that every moment has been perfect or gone smoothly, but it is to say that I feel much more calm, hopeful, and strong in the midst of those moments gone wrong. Maybe I'm learning to live a little better in the paradoxes of daily life. So, today, that's what I celebrate, the good and the bad, the easy and the hard existing side by side and me aiming to stand with a hopeful posture, right smack dab in the middle.

Discoveries and Observations

A random collection of things I'm learning and want to hold on to when the circus that is my life kicks into high gear:

- I love mornings. Not so much those initial moments of morning when I am suddenly awoken from my dream-filled sleep by one, often two children crying, children whose needs are immediate or so their cries would indicate. But once I’m up, remember who and where I am, and am moving around…then mornings are a time bursting with energy and new possibilities. Mornings bring with them a clean slate and provide what sometimes is a much needed ‘do-over.’
- Choosing an attitude of patience, love, and joy first thing in the morning is directly correlated with how the day unfolds.
- I’m worthless in the afternoons, exhausted, ‘fall asleep washing dishes’ kind of tired.
- Lack of good mommy time = Ben acting out, as evidenced by his attempts to whack his brother in the face, pull ornaments off the tree and furtively place them in the trash can, and push all the buttons on the dvd player so as to mommy-proof it.
- Talking to other mamas and reading mom blogs is both life-giving and normalizing for me. Both keep me sane and remind me of why it’s not a good idea to get in my car by myself and drive to a far away beach, despite my momentary yearnings to do so.
- I see parts of my personality in my kids. This is both rewarding and terrifying.
- I feel sad when I think about Ben’s allergies, thinking about how he will never be able to just go out and enjoy a meal at a restaurant without asking a multitude of questions, or go to a birthday party without my specially made cupcakes accompanying him. As silly as it may sound, I think I need to grieve this. And soon, he will probably need to grieve too, in his own way.
- 4:00-6:00 are my hardest hours, the witching hours, as I call them. Usually both kids are awake and cranky and I am exhausted. I need to be intentional about remembering the the sweet moments of my day before Tom gets home, so that he hears the positives and doesn’t think the whole day looked like the 4-6 hour circus.
- A deep breath can do wonders.
- The swing was a magical, wonderful, worth-every-penny purchase.
- Look upward throughout the day, there’s grace waiting to be had.
- This is a season. I will not feel this tired forever.
- Hold loosely. The kids are constantly changing, thus our routines will constantly change.
- Bonding with and pouring love out on Blake doesn’t diminish my love for Ben.
- Blake has beautiful big blue eyes and a dreamy little smile.
- Ben takes a little while to check things out and warm up in a new situation. I can think of this as clingy or I can see it as cautious and observant. I choose the latter. And once he’s observed and feels comfortable, he goes at things wholeheartedly. I see this as brave and passionate.
- Cleaning needs (if it really needs to be done, which is still up for debate) to take place in the early morning, when I have the most energy and when Blake is sleeping, after I’ve had good playtime with Ben.
- God will not give me more than I can handle, right?
- Things go much much better when I let my husband figure things out and do them his way rather than tell him how to do everything related to the boys.
- I am much more of a routine person than I ever thought I was, or at least than I used to be. Routines play a huge role in whether I will thrive that day. Of course, so does holding loosely to said routine!
- Ben is mastering various word sounds. The latest sound is “oo,” which he practices by saying the words, “moon,” “Boo,” “Moo (milk),” and “choo choo” what seems like 100 times a day. It would be annoying if his voice wasn’t so dang sweet. I hope I never get annoyed by his repetition of words, but I’m sure I will when all I hear is ‘mommy’ all day long.
- Ben loves to climb anything and everything. I wonder how small they make climbing harnesses? Let’s get this energy harnessed in a productive direction, shall we?
- Ben loves music and books and he has a curiosity that I’m jealous of.
- A walk does us all good.
- An outing between 3-5 is essential. It doesn’t matter if it’s to the park, the museum, the grocery store, or just to drive circles around the neighborhood. WE NEED TO GET OUT.
- I love my boys more than I could have ever imagined and I want more than anything for that not to get lost in the tense, whine-filled moments of an afternoon.
- My husband and I are a team. We are on the SAME team (a key thing to remember when things hit the fan) and when it comes down to it, we make a kick-a$@ team, if I do say so myself.

A New Life, A New Landscape

Wow, this is the longest stretch I've gone without a post since I started this blog. I suppose that's indicative of the season we're in, one in which free time is a rarity. This year was a year of great change and great blessing. The biggest blessing came on Thanksgiving Day, when our beautiful new son, Blake Hendrik was born. Born at Mountain Midwifery Center, my labor and his birth were completely different than that of Ben's, a strong reminder that Blake is his own unique person, with a different set of looks and his own special personality. And even as we are adjusting to being parents of two boys who are very close in age, less than 17 months apart (more on that rollercoaster ride later), we are eagerly anticipating watching his personality unfold.

**(Photo credit to Sara Lazio w/ Lazio Images. She is amazing!).

These days my brain most closely resembles a bowl of mush and I'm rarely cognizant of what day it is. I haven't written much because I feel like I can barely string together a coherent sentence, let alone a whole paragraph that adequately expresses the stirrings inside. And my body, oh my body has never been so exhausted, so tired, so achily fatigued, not even after any of my 4 marathons, not after my toughest weeks on the trail as a backpacking guide, not following the births of my sons. One month after Blake's birth and I am the most tired I have ever been. Sure, the sleep deprivation is a big part of that, but I that on top of the physical exertion required to constantly hold one baby, sometimes a toddler too has brought forth a fatigue that a month's worth of sleep couldn't cure.

But one thing I am reminded of often is this is a season.  And seasons change, whether we want them to (and sometimes we desperately do) or not (and sometimes we desperately wish for them to stay). Each season has, as I call them, its beauty points and its buggers. Just as summer brings with it sunshine and long lit days, it also ushers in a bounty of mosquitos. Right now the landscape of what seems like a bazillion poopy diapers a day, sleepless nights, and groggy days is also dotted with soft, sweet, milky breathe, tender little coos, and melt-your-heart first smiles. I'd be lying if I said, it doesn't get any better than this. I'd also be lying if I said I loved all four seasons equally. But, I can say in all honesty that there are aspects of every season that I do thoroughly enjoy, so in this season of juggling a teething toddler and crying newborn, I'm clinging to the little things, the sweet tender moments that pass in the blink of an eye. As for the rest, let this crazy rollercoaster fly on!

Domestic Frenzy

Help me. Somebody stop me. I’m in a domestic frenzy and I don’t know how to get out. My husband had to tell me to stop and rest 3x last night. I couldn’t stop. I’m sending all closets and drawers through a serious purging regimen. I’m cleaning all of those cracks and corners that I don’t even notice the other 364 days of the year. My label maker, Monica, is on overdrive. I’m cooking and baking up a storm, things I’ve never made before like homemade jam, marinara sauce from scratch, and the list goes on. This is not like me, not to this extent anyway. I’m out of control. I can’t stop. People say this is what happens right before you go into labor. Ugh, it’s WAY too early for that, seeing as I’m still 6 weeks out from my due date. When I stop to think about what’s driving this domestic frenzy, there are a number of ‘perhaps’ that cross my mind:

Perhaps it’s because I’m fearing the chaos that’s about to ensue once lil Meuz Deux enters the picture, a season in which grilled cheese sandwiches will be considered gourmet and any energy we do have might be spent wishing like crazy for the cleaning fairies to come.

Perhaps it’s because I fear that with two boys this may be the last time I have a clean house for, uh, the next 2 decades.

Perhaps it’s because we live in a small space, toys encroaching on big people space everywhere. We’re adding another human, so we must get rid of at least that much clutter.

Perhaps it’s my way of dealing with the multitude of things coming my way that I won’t be able to control. There’s a good chance it’s this one.

It’s fascinating, in an out of body experience sort of way, to watch this in myself because I don’t recognize myself. The good news is the house smells like french toast and candles and everything is in its place for the moment. The bad news is that I feel a little bit like a very tired runaway train, albeit a very clean one serving up some tasty food.

Love Multiplied?

As the countdown to Baby Meuz Deux begins, many people have asked me if I’m, ‘so ready to be done being pregnant?’ or if I ‘can’t wait to have this baby?’ And my answer is no, with a little bit of yes mixed in. I am truly eager to meet and get to know this new little being. And the truth is, I don’t love being pregnant, but this pregnancy has been physically easier than the first. I attribute that to a better diet and consistent, frequent exercise throughout the pregnancy. Emotionally, well, that’s a different story as I’ve been a bit of an emotional train wreck this time around. Am I looking forward to saying a big adios to the hormones coursing through my veins? Absolutely. Am I looking forward to bidding adieu to the pillow fortress? You betcha. And so is my husband. Am I looking forward to being able to climb into bed without sounding like I just ran a 100 yard sprint, to wearing pants without a stretchy waistband, to running faster than an 80 yr old, to losing the heater attached to my frontside, to drinking wine and eating sushi again? To all of these things I say a whole-hearted yes, amen, please and thank you.

But all of these discomforts or disadvantages of pregnancy are far outweighed by two aspects of post-pregnancy that concern me, for lack of a better phrase. I have been thoroughly enjoying my days with Ben. He is at such a cute stage, toddling all over the place and babbling away in Benjamin-ese, a language that only he and God seem to understand. He’s so curious and fascinated with books, music, art, and anything that Mommy and Daddy are eating, drinking, or using. I have to confess, yesterday he got his first taste of brownie mix w/ a little water stirred in (mama’s guilty go-to when she needs a chocolate fix). I shudder to think of it, but he saw me eating it and started pointing and whining (the whining is not my favorite part of this stage). I caved. I fed my son a spoonful of brownie mix (don’t worry, no raw eggs in it). What was that I was saying about a better diet this time around? Hey, a pregnant woman needs her occasional chocolate! All that to say, we have so much fun everyday. I love watching him discover and master new skills and his curiosity breathes life into my soul.

This not to mention that I love the daily routines we’ve established, routines that I know will quickly fly out the window in approximately 6 weeks. And as you may know, this right-brained, big ole ‘P’ on the Myers-Briggs, isn’t a routine person. That’s not to say that I don’t like routines because I kind of do, I’m just not very good at implementing them. So, the fact that we’ve got some good routines going on, not only means that my son gets his teeth brushed most days, but I feel a little more calm and my brain, a little less crazy. So, you can see why I might feel a bit apprehensive about letting go of those heartily fought for routines.

But the biggest reason why I feel uncertain, nervous, anxious, or whatever you want to call it that I’m feeling about adding #2 to the mix, is because it means I will have two children…two children to love, that is. I’m not as concerned about the work of two children as much as I am about what it will look like to divide my focus, my energy, and my love between two children. Will each kid only get half? Or will it somehow, in a way unbeknownst to me, multiply? I love Ben more than I knew it was possible to love anyone who wasn’t my husband. And I wonder, quite honestly, will I love this baby as much as I love Ben? I want to. But for the last 2 years since we conceived Ben, it’s been all about him. All my kid-directed energy has gone towards him, towards learning about him, getting to know him, and learning the ropes of motherhood with him in mind. And suddenly, there will be this new little person, also of my flesh and blood, but currently a complete unknown, who will clamor for my love and attention. I can’t fathom loving a child as much as l love Ben. Yet I hope and pray that love truly does multiply, that it’s just as natural of a process to love this baby as it was when the love just seemed to well up inside of me and overflow onto Ben. Ben has been, for the most part, such an easy and laid back baby. What if this one is a little terror? I know that sounds awful to say, but I really fear feeling an internal preference towards one child over the other. I pray for eyes to see this new baby for who HE is, all the tiny nuances that make him different from Ben, and that love multiplies in such a way that I am able to love him as much as I love Ben.

All my second and third-time mom friends assure me that this will happen. And I know full-well that just because I can’t imagine how something will work doesn’t mean that it won’t. But this is my process, albeit a bit wandery. And this is my honest answer to the questions I am asked nearly every day, ‘are you so ready for baby #2 to be here?’ No, in the sense that I’m trying to cherish every last moment I have with just Ben, our family of 3, and our sweet little routines that I’ve come to enjoy. But yes, in the sense that deep down, I know that this new little Meuzie is a unique, God-made little boy, who will fill me with wonder and evoke more crazy love in me than I knew was possible. And when I think of it that way, I can’t wait to meet him.

Boyville Times 2

I find it hard to believe that I'm already approaching the 30 week mark. The return of the exhaustion and heartburn has been both sudden and intense. Tom asked me this morning if I was entering the 'I'm so ready to be done being pregnant' phase. And honestly, while it would be nice to sleep again (though I'm not banking on that for at least another 4-5 years) and to get my body back, I'm not in that phase and I actually never hit with the last pregnancy either. While I am excited to meet the newest member of our family, I am also trying very much to enjoy this time with just Ben, the sweet moments, the routines we have in place (as those are all about to go out the window come November), and just life as I know it right now.

It's been fun for me to look back at my journal from my last pregnancy, all of the feelings I was experiencing, the many unknowns I was about to step into. And it's especially fun to reflect on how I feel about those same things now. One of the things that felt so very scary to me last time was that of having a baby boy, as opposed to a girl. I felt like I didn't have a clue about boys then. And I don't know that I am all that much wiser now, but I can tell you that I wouldn't trade Ben in for anything in the world. I do wonder what it will be like to be a mom to two boys, so different than how I had once envisioned my life, to be honest. But I know that time will tell and thus far I have absolutely LOVED being a mom to one adventurous, tender, and adorable little boy.

As I read through my old journal, I stumbled across a little piece I wrote, but for some reason never posted in the blog. It's entitled, Approaching Boyville. I found it quite humorous to read now, now that I've been living in Boyville for over a year. And so I thought I would post it now:

Approaching Boyville

With a mere 4 weeks left until D Day, the announcement playing in my head goes something like this, “You are now approaching Boyville. We’re expecting a bit of turbulance and what might be a rough landing, so please fasten your seatbelts and attempt to enjoy the ride.” Yup, we’re almost there and I am feeling a myriad of emotions as I peer out the window and spot the first signs of Boyville. For starters, there’s a heck of a lot of blue out there and more animals and trucks and furry little red guys than I’m used to. I’m filled with anticipation, nervousness, excitement, and sheer wonder as to what it will be like once we enter Boyville. While I feel like I’m not a total stranger to Boyville, having made several visits in the distant past, they were rather short and not entireably pleasurable. Most of what I know about Boyville, I learned when I visited Manland about 4 years ago, where I met a smart, sexy resident named Tom. I fell so hard for him that I decided to move with him to Marriagetown, which in fact draws a lot its cultural influences from both Manland and Womanland. The language, the foods, the leisure activities, the interior style all reflect characteristics of both places. Though it does seem that the general style of interior décor is growing to be more heavily influenced by Womanland. I digress.

Anyway, both my experiences in Manland and Marriagetown have shed some light on what Boyville is really like, because Tom grew up in Boyville. Yet, as we approach this land, I still feel like a total foreigner and that feels scary, really scary. How will I know how to act in Boyville? After all, I grew up in Girlville and with 2 sisters, I spent ALL my time growing up in Girlville. It’s what’s familiar to me. Boyville might as well be Mars to me. But I’ve been reading in my Lonely Planet Guide to Boyville and it’s provided me with some tips that seem like they’ll prove useful for my survival, err time, in Boyville. For example, under extra things to pack, it instructed me to bring some extra burp clothes and diapers to use when changing a diaper in Boyville, so as to avoid being doused by a 'spontaneous yellow fountain.' I also read that it would be helpful to pack along some extra bandaids and neosporin. Oh and they said to drink a lot of coffee and caffeine, as the littlest residents of Boyville tend to have an abundance of energy and may be challenging to keep up with.

In reading about the language of Boyville, I discovered that it’s the same as in Girlville, but there’s a different dialect and particular words which are used more often than in the region of Girlville where I grew up. I’ve been trying to memorize some of those words and their meanings including, “Thomas the Train, trucks, build, destroy, dirt, fart, burp, wrestle, etc…” While I recognize that there are plenty of residents of Girlville who are familiar with and use those words as well, I am noting that I don’t happen to be one of them. I also read that residents of Boyville (and Manland) tend to be more direct in their language.  I even heard there is an oral exam upon entry to the country, apparently it's to ensure your ability to communicate in Boyville. You have to relay an entire story in 20 words or less, which will be quite the challenge for this verbose female! I was however, delighted to read about some of the popular activities in Boyville, ones that I too, happen to be familiar with and love, including playing outside, hiking, camping, exploring, and playing sports. These are not activities that are exclusive to Boyville, but not enjoyed by all girls in Girlville either. Yet, they are acitivities that I love and while I don’t yet know if my boy will love them too, if he does, I can assure you that they are things that will allow me to feel a little more at home in this otherwise foreign land.

All this to say, it’s one thing to read a book about a place or to hear about other peoples’ experiences, but it’s an entirely different thing to actually visit and experience a place for oneself. And every experience is unique, this I know. So, as I make my way ever closer to Boyville, I am putting on my brave face (and arms and legs and…) and I am trying to approach it with an open mind and heart, with humility, a sense of humor, as a learner of the culture and the people, especially the one little guy with whom I’ll be spending the majority of my time while I’m there. Whatever vocabulary he uses and whichever leisure activities he decides he likes, I’m looking forward to engaging in those with him and I have a feeling that he will have a great deal to teach me as well.

Simple Moments, Sweet Joys

While I can’t remember much these days, I do remember when I was pregnant with my first child, Ben, and people would ask me all sorts of questions, mostly of the well-meaning but occasionally dumbfounding variety (like, did you really just comment, ‘you look huge, are you so ready to have that baby?’). And then they would often proceed in their attempts to ‘prepare me for motherhood’ by saying things like, “sleep now because you won’t sleep for the next 18 years” or “ get ready because your life is about to totally change, it’s gonna be all about diapers and feeding and the latest Pixar movie from here on out.” Or there’s my favorite, “brace yourself for this baby to rock your marriage. It’s extremely difficult to find time for you and hubby to connect once baby arrives and to talk about things other than poopy diapers and a sleep schedule. But you need to find that time, so be intentional.” The picture of the child-rearing phase being painted in my head could have easily been entitled, “Misery.” Hearing all of these stories and pieces of advice started to send me into a bit of a panic as I found myself begging my husband, “Tell me again, why we chose to do this.” But I reasoned that those same people choose to have more than one child, so there has to be an/some upside(s), right?

And in all honesty, now that I have my own child, I can say that much of what people ‘warned’ me about is true in some way. It IS challenging. Having a child does change your life, it does change your marriage, but not all for worse, and in fact, not even mostly. What I wasn’t hearing much of when I was pregnant, what I wished I had heard, were the sweet moments, the ones that I think people are thinking of (but often don’t bother to tell you or perhaps they can’t articulate) when they pat me on the shoulder and assured me, “but it’s all worth it.” In my opinion, those are the stories that expectant mamas and papas need to hear. Of course it’s healthy to have our expectations set as realistic as possible, but there are plenty of books out there to inform us of our impending lack of sleep. And the reality, at least my reality, is that there are countless tender moments that really don’t carry the weight they deserve until you experience them for yourself. So, now that I’ve ventured a mere 14 months into the motherhood and am preparing to welcome another little monkey to our family, I thought I would share just 10 (of many) sweet moments I’ve experienced with Ben that consistently melt my heart, increase the ‘love-flow’ as I call it, and truly (I swear to you) make being a mom, the incredible, wonderful, life-changing journey that it is.

1. The wide-eyed gaze of wonderment that my son gets when he rides in the stroller, in awe of the trees rustling in the wind, the puffy white clouds dancing in the sky, and the birds serenading us as we stroll on by (one big reason why a ‘peek-window’ in the shade canopy is so worth it!)

2. The hearty laughter that erupts from the pit of his belly in uncontrollable waves simply because that one little piggy dared to go ‘wee wee wee, all the way home.’

3. The look of joy that emanates from his face as he hears the altogether new sound that he created by banging 2 plastic balls together in his tiny hands.

4. When we arrive home in the car and he is cashed out in his carseat, appearing so peaceful and serene, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, which appear chubbier and even more kissable than usual. And I take a moment to watch and listen to his soft rhythmic breathing, a sort of breathing that speaks the language of rest.

5. The glowing pride he radiates as he dares to take an unassisted step and then proceeds to crash into the safety of my embrace, laughing with delight.

6. The initial moments following a nap, when I walk into his room, assuring him and his tears that “mommy is here.” He peers up at me from his crib, still half asleep, arms stretched in the air, with that one giant, salty tear drop still resting on his cheek. I pick him up and he clings with both hands to my neck and rests his warm, sleepy head on my shoulder, cuddling for a moment or two before he spots his toy on the floor and starts squirming to get down, ready to begin exploring his world all over again.

7. Bathtime – His excitement and laughter as he splashes at the water and squirts a stream into my face with his little dolphin-shaped bath toy. And as I bundle him up in his towel and nuzzle my face into his tufts of soft, fine hair, I breathe in the sweet smells of chamomile and lavender, sweetness to my senses.

8. The persistence he demonstrates as he pushes his fire truck through the living room, up and over that pillow that threatened to stop him, ‘vroom-vrooming his way on through!’

9. I can’t help but laugh and appreciate (for now anyway) the moments when he dares to drop a piece of food over the edge of his high chair to our dog, who now consistently parks her ever-widening behind under the high chair at meal time. As I point to my mouth and firmly say, ‘Ben, you eat your food, in your mouth please. Do not give it to Sami,’ he flashes me a rebellious grin, drops it right into Sami’s mouth, and laughs like he’s just pulled off the biggest scam in the world. Like I said, it’s funny now but ask me again in two years!

10. When we arrive somewhere new and to him, quite foreign, I can see the adventurous look in his eyes. He wants so desperately to explore his new surroundings. He wanders out from my embrace, crawling (soon to be walking) over to some shiny object or person, to check it out. And a moment or two later, he quickly comes crawling back to my arms, a place where he has learned will greet him with safety and love. And he repeats this ‘out and back’ behavior over and over again, each time discovering a little more how he is separate from me, his own little person, but also how he can still come back to me, and I will be there. I recognize that these ‘out and back’ adventures are going to become farther and last longer with each passing year, which is why I want to cherish each and every sweet, tender, joy-evoking moment with him that I can!

(Right click and press 'stop download' if you can't play the video; and you might want to turn your volume down to avoid hearing my high-pitched, squeaky mom voice!)