Get Uncomfortable, Day 5 - Quality Kid Time

I was at the park yesterday with Max. It was just us and another mom with her two boys. The mom was on the phone and every time one of her sons would come up to her she'd say "Just one more minute!" At one point, one walked away crying "I just want you to play with me!" Mom kept talking away.

The boys, tired of waiting, came up to me and asked if I'd push them on the swings. I hollered at their mom to make sure she was okay with it. She nodded approval, so I pushed them; two precious little guys, four and five years old (They said to me, "Do you even know how old we are? Do you even know our names?" Adorable.), left to play with a strange woman and her baby.

You know, I don't know if this is typical for them and I totally get that mamas need time to space out and do their own thing (can I get an amen?), but this was like a punch in the gut to me because I saw so much of myself in this mom.

I know firsthand that being home with a little one(s) all day long is exhausting and sometimes, well, just boring. I mean, we listen to The Muppets' song "Mahna Mahna" about 20 times a day and Max thinks lifting his leg into the air is worthy of applause every time (which truthfully is pretty adorable and hilarious). So much of being at home with the kiddos is the same every single day and it does get monotonous.

I am the queen of goofing off on Facebook during the day. I mean, were they to crown someone official Facebook time waster, I'd probably win hands down. And I didn't start seeing it as a problem until recently. Max has started coming up to me as I sit at the table or on the couch and grabbing my hand and saying "Go? Go? Go?"

Obviously, he's begun to notice that I'm not paying attention and man, that makes my heart hurt.

Not so long ago Max and I were battling through our afternoons together, struggling just to make it to bedtime. He was having upwards of a dozen throw-myself-down-on-the-floor-and-scream temper tantrums a day. I was exhausted and he, obviously, wasn't happy.

I had this idea, though- what would happen if I gave Max a little more undivided attention? Would that change anything? So I gave it a try.

We began spending an hour a day, just one little hour, at the park together. No cell phone, no iPad, no TV. Just me and Max and whatever he wants to do.

Oh how I wish I could explain how this has changed our lives! Devoting one uninterrupted hour a day to my son has made much of the rest of the day go smoothly. We snuggle more. We laugh and wrestle more. We are having more fun instead of counting down the hours until bedtime.

Please don't get me wrong, mamas. I need breaks, and I know you do too. I don't want anyone to feel guilty about taking time to space out, waste time on Facebook, or do whatever it is that helps you relax!

What I am saying is this- we are a generation of parents with cell phones glued to our hands, computers always on with social media always open, and iPads to carry with us when we go, and it's our kiddos paying the price for us being unengaged.

Someday when Max is grown, I don't want him to look back on his childhood and think "Wow, my mom was always on Facebook wasting time!"

I want him to remember me taking the time to see him and clap again when he raises his leg in the air for the 20th time that day.


Do you have set time that you devote entirely to your kids? What is it that you look forward to doing most with them?

Click here for Day 4, Zzz. The Art of Sleep

More posts on Get Uncomfortable: Relationships -
Day 2, Cultivating Friendships

But, will I love them?

"Adoption is a miracle. I don't mean just that it's amazing, terrific, and a wonderful thing to do. I mean that it is, that as the dictionary says, "a surprising and welcome event that is not explicable by nature or scientific laws and is therefore considered to be the work of divine agency."                                                              
                                                                         -Scott Simon, Baby, We Were Meant for Each Other


One of the things non-adoptive parents say to me a lot is "I just don't think I could love a child that isn't mine."

I honestly have no idea how many times someone has said this to me. It's been so many times I couldn't possibly remember them all. Even while we were waiting to be matched with Max the x-ray tech at my doctor's office said to me "I'm interested in adoption, but my wife doesn't think she'd love someone else's kid like she loves ours."

Loving someone else's child fully and unconditionally doesn't make sense to our tiny human minds. We want a child that's ours. We want to see the similarities between them and us, to connect with them the way our parents connected with us.

But here's the thing- Max is mine.

I couldn't love that little boy more had Dan and I created him ourselves. He is so much a part of me that there are moments when I forget I didn't give birth to him. I have dreams that I breastfeed him, not because it's something that's a part of our everyday lives (he's been exclusively bottle-fed), but because it is so innate between mother and child that my mind forgets he didn't come from my body

 Our hearts are extraordinary. Just as the love biological parents have for one child, two children, however many children they may have, grows, so does the love for adopted children.

Love is one of those amazing, limitless things. The more places to pour it out, the more it flows.

The realizations of a new stay-at-home mom

I never imagined myself being a stay-at-home mom.

 

I've worked since I was 14, starting in my dad's office just a few hours a week. Since then, I've owned two businesses, gone to school for cosmetology and medical transcription, and worked in several other jobs along the way. I like to work and I love new challenges.

 

A few weeks ago, though, I reached the breaking point with my job and Dan and I decided that it was time for me to quit. We crunched the numbers and decided we'd be fine without my salary. We've already made some big financial changes in the past few months, so we felt pretty well prepared to lose my income.


 

Truthfully, the money isn't what makes me nervous. Like I said, I like to work, which in my mind means bringing home a paycheck and it has been difficult to wrap my mind around not making money, but I've felt more and more recently that God has some big plans for me that may not entail making a regular salary. Scary, right?

Since we adopted Max last June, I have felt increasingly called to adoption and orphan ministry, which is really the driving force behind why I started this blog to begin with, but as you probably know if you're a parent too, finding the time can be extraordinarily difficult, and I have felt a bit discouraged.

A few days ago though I felt God speaking to my heart. I have already been blessed with a huge ministry.

You see, I now have the freedom to minister full-time to one precious little person all day, every day. No, it's not the grand plan I had in mind of reaching hundreds or thousands of adoptive families, but I have my own little boy right here in my own home that God has blessed me with. When else are we given such an incredible opportunity to show God's love to someone so many hours of the day?

I've been given a unique opportunity to minister to an amazing little person, to guide him towards Jesus, to share love with him every day. I have been entrusted with an enormous responsibility. No, it's not what the original vision looked like to me, but motherhood is an amazing ministry in and of itself.

I don't know what the future holds for me and what kind of plans God has in mind for me, but the realization that I am already in training for those plans has been a huge encouragement to me.

For now though, I am content where I am, guiding my son to follow God's heart. And that's really what it's all about, right?

New series - Dear Birthmother





There are many times when Max does something amazing, funny, or something that touches my heart and I immediately want to tell one person- his birth mom. Although we send regular updates to his birth parents, we don't as of yet have a face-to-face relationship with them, so many of the things that I would love to tell her go unsaid, so I am beginning this series to share what I wish I could say to her myself.

Please note that I am using "birthmother" to protect Max's birth mom's privacy, not because I don't know her name or don't want to address her personally.
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Dear Birthmother,

I was taking pictures of our son, mine and yours, the other day. He has this precious dimple on his right cheek, gorgeous long lashes, and amazing almond-shaped brown eyes. I wonder when I look at him which one of you he got his beautiful features from (probably both!).

Max is so incredibly smart. Every day I am amazed with the things he knows and picks up on. I know that some of it is because I work with him on things like identifying shapes, sounds, and colors a lot each day, but I can tell there is so much natural ability in him. He astounds me every day and I know he's going to do amazing things in his life.

I know he doesn't understand yet, but I talk to him about you a lot. The other day while we were playing in his room he picked up a toy that Dan and I had bought while on vacation while you were still pregnant with Max.

I told him how we had been praying for a baby of our own and bought the toy in hopes that we would someday soon have a baby of our own to give it to. I told him that even though we didn't know about you and Max yet we prayed for you every day, prayed for safety, for wisdom, and that you would know how much we love and cherish both of you.

I told Max about how much you love him and how I know you think about him all the time, about how he has two moms who would do anything in the world for him.

I wish I could tell you face-to-face how much I love our beautiful son. You gave me the most amazing gift, Birthmother, and I wish I could explain how much it means to me. You are, and always will be, my hero.

All the love in the world,

Before the Phone Booth Quick Change

Warning: This post contains shocking images. Proceed only if you're not afraid of messes.
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I have a confession:

I'm not Superwoman.

I work. I have an almost 10 month old baby. I have a home to clean, pets to take care of, a family to make dinner for. I try to semi-regularly write. Needless to say, there are a lot of things to get done in the day.

What I want people to think of my life

 

I was on Pinterest a few weeks ago in one of the rare moments I had some free time (or in one of the not so rare moments that I was not doing something I should be) and I saw a pin that made me laugh out loud.

A more accurate portrayal

 

It was a picture of a gorgeously made up, perfectly dressed, baby-wearing mama out for a walk. Underneath the pinner had captioned "That's going to be me when I'm a mom- stylish!"

I cracked up then went and told the Facebook world about it.

Stacks of fabric that have been on my table for two weeks

A year ago, I probably would have said something like that. In fact, at one point I started a Pinterest board called "Mission Stylish Mom." Let me tell ya, I aborted that mission months ago.

As much as we hate to hear it, we can't do it all. I'm not saying that you shouldn't work, take the time to put together a gorgeous outfit, or spend your kiddo's naptime writing a blog post. What I'm saying is something has to give.

Dishes from last night's dinner

Pinterest especially (and the Internet in general) has fed into this notion that we should be able to do everything. We see all these moms doing fabulous craft projects with their kids or wearing an amazing outfit and we're so hard on ourselves when we don't measure up to the idea we have of what a perfect mom/wife/insert appropriate title should be.

What we don't know is what's going on behind the scenes though - the mom in the cute outfit might have a pile of laundry that needs to be done and the crafty mom may have put off grocery shopping to do that project with her kids.

Loads of laundry - at least it's all clean!

When we're online, we want to present the best, most polished, perfect version of ourselves, but that's usually just a little glimpse of the whole person, and it's easy to get down on yourself when you feel like you're failing to live up.

Sometimes I don't put any makeup on, there are days when I wear my yoga pants from morning to night, and it's not uncommon for there to be loads and loads of laundry in my hamper. But I'm learning to extend myself grace, just like I would a friend who may be struggling to juggle all that motherhood (life, really) brings.

No, I'm not Superwoman. Sometimes I'm just Lois Lane. And I'm fine with that.

What a difference a year makes

Last Easter Dan and I spent about a week visiting family in Japan. Two days before our trip we met with a birthmother to pitch ourselves as the adoptive family for her son.

We drove about 10 hours roundtrip in one day to spend about an hour with the mother, her own mother, and her daughter. We thought the meeting went great, but the next morning our social worker called and told us that she had decided on another family. The news devastated us.

My heart ached as we left for Japan. We would be spending time with our 10-month-old nephew, and I was acutely aware that we had just lost another chance to have our own baby. I struggled to enjoy his giggles and cuteness while knowing we had no idea when our own son (or daughter) would come into our lives. It was an incredibly dark time for me and my emotions were raw.

By the grace of God, I made it through the week without any enormous meltdowns. At times I had to just be alone to grieve and cry, but being with our nephew actually soothed my ache, and he and I became fast friends.

Yesterday, as I got ready for our Easter service, I put on the same dress, the same sweater and the same shoes as I had a year ago. And as I got dressed, I realized the amazing difference a year can make. My own son is now almost the age our nephew was when I held him last Easter in Japan. 

As I posed yesterday for new Easter photos, this time holding my own precious son, I began thinking about Ephesians 1-

"God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure.  So we praise God for the glorious grace he has poured out on us who belong to his dear Son. He is so rich in kindness and grace that he purchased our freedom with the blood of his Son and forgave our sins."

Ephesians 1:5-8
 

A year ago we were still waiting for Max. We didn't know him yet, but we had already decided to adopt him into our family. What an amazing reflection of what Jesus did for us. Even before we knew God, he had decided we would become his children. A beautiful illustration for Easter, don't you think?

Changes

Four months ago I was thrown into the deep end of the motherhood pool.

I knew it was going to happen eventually. After all, I had spent the prior 17 months filling out paperwork, going to meetings, sitting through classes, replying to endless emails saying "Pick me! Pick me!" I knew exactly what the goal was, but the day Dan and I got the call from our case worker saying that we had been chosen to adopt a baby boy, the abstract became reality and five hours later I was a mother.

The moment I held Max in my arms for the first time, I can honestly say that I felt love for this little person unlike anything I've felt in my life. I had dreamed of this baby boy (not him specifically!) for more than 20 years and here he was, in my arms at last.

Going through adoption training, especially if you're open to transracial adoption, you really do become pretty prepared for the questions, the curious looks from people, the insane things people will say to you (I recently had someone say if Max isn't a good boy, we can give him back. WHAT?! Insanity.) How does one truly prepare for the changes that motherhood brings, though?

In the last four months, I've learned a lot about myself. I'm not as shy and quiet as I once thought I was- I've yelled at two people who were being too loud while Max was trying to sleep.

I've learned that while, yes, people do ask and say insane things when you are a white lady carrying around a black baby, it's not as difficult as I expected to keep my cool, take a breath, and remind myself that most people are just curious, not malicious.

I have also become more comfortable in my own skin. I'm a little bit too soft. I have tattoos, fair skin, and messy hair, but I know that I am created in God's image and I want to teach my son by example that who he is, an amazing, beautiful creation of God's, is just right.

People say that motherhood changes you- I just never expected how much.