Is it still called Post-Partum Depression when your baby is 8 years old?

I'm about to admit something crazy that may just blow your mind...my husband never wanted to be a parent.  And wait for it...neither did I.  But good Christians are taught to make good Christian babies. So we did.  Two kids later and you would think we'd have accepted the fact that we are, indeed, parents now.  God has blessed us with two beautiful little girls that are the epitome of both my husband and I.  (In both good ways and bad).  You'd think that'd we'd have it all figured out as Mom and Dad 8 years later.  That there would be days that go by where we aren't completely consumed by stress, anxiety, and feelings of inadequacy.  But there aren't.  Like, at all.

For two glorious days, my sweet (and brave!) sister-in-law took the girls for some cousin time.  That side of the family could be moving several states over any day now, so family time has become very precious to us.  That meant I got two whole days, in my own home, that didn't involve travelling, BY MYSELF.  I could sleep in, take a nap whenever I wanted, eat whenever and whatever I wanted (no sneakily eating that second cupcake in the closet), and follow my own schedule for once.  Do you think any of the above actually happened?  No (well, beside the eating two cupcakes part).  I woke up before dawn everyday, buzzed around with more energy than I knew what to do with, and then wasted said energy on reading a slightly inappropriate romance novel (hey, the writing was superb). To say the least, our short mini stay-cation was fantastic and relaxing with no pressure to perform as Mom and Dad.

But when we picked up our sleepy girls with their newly brightly painted toenails, all my old emotions came flooding back.  Emotions I had forgotten about because for the last almost 8 years they have been my "normal".  From the time the girls put on their seat belts and spoke their first words since being back in our care, I felt a tightness in my chest.  I had difficulty breathing.  I felt the start of a headache creep in on my forehead.  I felt anxious, on edge, inadequate, and fearful.  I felt geared up and ready for battle.  Ready to repeat myself at least ten times and stop a sibling fight before it even started.    Like a two ton Thomas the Train on my shoulders, I discovered the source of all my health problems in one fleeting moment.  The anxiety, stress, exhaustion, and headaches; its called Motherhood.  I ask you, is it still called Post-Partum Depression when they're nearly 8 years old?

Anyway, as the day wore on and I tucked them into bed WAY past their bedtime, I glanced at their half-asleep faces snuggled tight against their blankies, and in that brief moment there was peace. When the day is done and the crumbs swept up (or not) and the laundry folded (or not), there is peace in motherhood.  It's fleeting, but its there.  Its the little gift from God that reminds me that nobody died today despite the fact that I'm an imperfect mom who made a bunch of imperfect mistakes all day long.  A reminder that He was there calming those feelings of anxiety all along.  And strengthening my mom muscles against inadequacy at the same time.  A reminder that even though I have to do it ALL OVER AGAIN tomorrow (blah), He'll be there for that too.  

Each new phase in life brings with it a whole new set of worries.  What I worry about in their lives now is temporary.  Next year I'll worry about something new.  Something to stress about or feel anxious about as a mom will probably always loom over me.  But the Lord will be looming there too. I know He'll still love them more that I ever could because His love is perfect and mine is not.  He'll also still calm my anxiety and re-store my sanity, all while these two little ladies call me Mom.

"He shall cover you with His feathers, And under His wings you shall take refuge...You shall not be afraid of the terror by night, Nor the arrow that flies by day..." Excerpt from Psalm 91.
"When my anxieties multiply, your comforting calms me down".  Psalm 94:19 (Common English Bible Version)        

It's a Chicken Day Miracle!

This morning I woke up with an old hymn on my heart..."How deep the Father's love for us, How vast beyond all measure.  That He should give His only Son to make a wretch His treasure..."  (Everyone sing it now!).  Anyway, here's why: an answered prayer.  A simple little "chicken prayer" as I've dubbed it.  A couple years ago my sister in law wanted chickens for her backyard.  Hubby said no, naturally.  Turns out when you grow up on a farm of sorts you have no desire later in life to care for domesticated backyard chickens.  She prayed with faith knowing her Heavenly Father's love and interest in the little details of her life.  And lo and behold, one day a buff orphington chicken meandered through her yard!  (This just so happened to be her favorite kind).  She tried to get rid of it before my brother in law came home that day, but to no avail.  The silly hen stuck around so long he was forced to build a coop and add more hens to the roost just to make it worth the effort!  I have been begging/nagging/kindly and patiently asking my husband for chickens for several months now.  The whole allure of being somewhat self-sufficient on our 115 acres teases me with the promise of farm-fresh eggs, home grown veggies, and maybe someday, a cow for burgers.  (We'll start small).  But "no" for an answer must be an inherited trait, because I received the same response to my chicken plea as my sis in law did.  So I prayed.  If God could answer her chicken prayers surely He would answer mine.  And last night, He did.  When exciting or inappropriate things happen I tend to giggle.  It's not my proudest feature.  Laughing hysterically when you see your kids trip or someone says the word "penis" kinda comes off as immature.  Who knew.  But when I received a call from my Grandma, randomly asking if I wanted all her chicken stuff (coop, feeders, food, and hay), all I could do was giggle.  Hubby couldn't protest my giggles.  Or say no to his dear old granny.  :). How good is my Father?!  A silly request for silly chickens, but He knows my heart.  He knows my desires.  He knows the simple goodness of a farm-fresh egg because He created them.  How deep the Father's love for us?  Boundless.  
Ephesians 3:16-19. Read it and soak it up.

An Open Letter on Father's Day

I've known some pretty cool dads in my day.  My own just wasn't one of them.  Father's Day falls under that category of "holidays I choose to ignore".  I try not to reflect on the fact that I have never met my dad and instead try to wish the other dads in my life a Happy Dad's Day this time each year.  I can count on one hand the facts I know about my own dad actually.  Number one being that he is Persian.  But I still have never even seen a picture of him.  I can only google "Persian Men" as a reference and hope google doesn't get any crazy ideas.  By the way, if you do this expect a lot of dating sites to pop up.  I have no idea where these eyes of mine came from.  Whose nose I got (although let's face it, it's obviously my most prominent Middle Eastern feature).  Or which personality traits or talents we share.  I do not know what it is like to be encouraged by my father or have him wipe my tears away. This morning in church our pastor had us write an open letter to our dads in honor of Father's Day.  Really, if he wanted to get us all to cry he could've just played one of those ASPCA commercials and asked us to support all those sickly little malnourished puppies.  Anyway, I am going to go ahead and show you what I wrote.  Not for sympathy points, but to bring hope to the others who never knew their daddies.  I was not the only one writing that open letter today at Way of Life Fellowship from a place of hurt and brokenness.  I am not the only one who never met their daddies, or worse, saw their daddies walk away and shared in their mama's hurt in the process.  I can say from experience that my Heavenly Father is the only one who has never and will never walk away.  He has dried ever tear I have ever cried (that's a whole lot).  And His word brings healing and encouragement to my very soul everyday.  He'll do the same for you, whether you've got a daddy right now or not.  Here is that letter:
Dear Dad,
You are a coward.  You have missed out on knowing three beautiful, strong, and passionate girls.  You had the opportunity to grow with me, to love and teach me, and to share in the generational blessings of this life through your two granddaughters.  You chose pride, fear, and selfishness over joy, hope, and love.  I pray for your soul.  That despite your human-ness you will experience the redemptive love of Jesus Christ.  I pray that your walk with Him will bring healing with each and  every step.  Your personal relationship with Jesus , may be the only connection we ever have.  For that much, I am grateful.  And because of my Heavenly Father I am capable of loving you, Earthly Father, wherever you are.  Happy Father's Day.
Love,
Your Daughter, Aimee

I'm a homeschooling mom...say what??

When I first had kids there were some things I swore I would and wouldn't do.  I swore my kids would never be THOSE kids screaming down the aisles of the grocery store.  They are.  I swore I'd raise them in downtown Salem so they'd have a rich sense of art and culture.  We live in the middle of nowhere and hicksville is our culture.  And I swore I would NEVER, EVER homeschool.  Well, guess what?  Yup.

Don't get me wrong, I am not against homeschooling at all.  To each his own.  I think its great if you're a mom who loves spending endless amounts of time with her kids and has oober amounts of patience to go with it.  (Notice the sarcasm?)  But I am NOT one of those moms.  At least in my own mind.  In God's mind however, He apparently seems to think otherwise.  Because when all the options were weighed between driving 20 minutes to the nearest school, applying for a district transfer, or paying $20,000 a year for private school, homeschool won out.  Trust me, I looked at all the pros and cons of this new situation. And you bet I begged God for something different.  Something that allowed more "me time".  Something that wasn't going to stretch me as a mom quite so much.  But in the end, we applied to a distance learning program on a whim and surprisingly, got accepted!

I am writing this blog post to update everyone who has been praying for us on this journey, knowing I am not much of a "homeschooler".  Teaching was not one of those spiritual gifts I was blessed with.  I am a quiet person who likes her quiet time and homeschooling doesn't quite allow for that.  But you know what?  Our first week of homeschool is nearly done...and nobody died!

Our days so far look a little like this: wake up around 6:30 am then eat breakfast and get ready.  By 8:00 am our school day is starting.  We start off with prayer and a devotional from the kids version of Jesus Calling. We do a reading lesson, read a library book, do some math, and take a Spanish lesson.  We take a break or two in between to tidy up any messes, make our beds, etc.  Then we're done...at 10 am!  Now we still have some curriculum on its way, so our day will lengthen with these new courses coming.  But we certainly still have time in our day for free-time, giggling, dance lessons, and our favorite activity, watching movies.  And the lessons seem bearable for the kids, and most importantly, for their mother/teacher.  :)  I know the school days ahead will have its challenges. School is not easy no matter where you go or who your teacher is.  But we now have the blessing of flexibility.  Of choosing to sleep in, take a day off, or learn "real world" stuff instead of just what's in the books.  I'm hoping to grow more flexible myself and learn just as much as my kiddos through this journey. And maybe someday, even consider myself a real "homeschooling mom".  :)      
   

Cheers to 30 Years!

Turning 30 is the pits.  Well, at least 2 days into it thats how I can best sum it up.  Don't get me wrong...I am incredibly blessed and I have accomplished and overcome a lot.  I have a loving, supportive, God-fearing, sexy husband.  I have two beautiful, healthy children.  I recently earned my college degree.  And I am about to be considered a real ballerina (pending I don't have a severe panic attack before entering the stage in my tutu).  But it is amazing the things that cross your mind when you are entering a new stage in life.  Have I done enough?  Am I loved and do I love enough?  Where do I go from here?  And why am I still dealing with the same insecurities I dealt with in my twenties for crying out loud!?  30 is an odd phase to say the least.  Its an in-between stage of selfishly wanting what I want and submitting to what the Lord wants and being mature enough to know the difference between the two.  I have decided to start blogging again because I believe the Lord is going to do something big with this year and I want to document it.  My sister-in-law best compared this in-between and somewhat difficult phase in life to childbirth.  Yuck.  Like I want to re-live that again.  But she is right.  Any of you mommies remember the transitional part of labor?  I do.  Its the part that happens right after you start thinking, "this can't get any worse"...and then it does.  Its the point in which (if you do it w/out the blessed buzz of meds) you basically give up and decide its best to keep baking that baby until it can walk itself out and leave for college.  But its also the point right before something magical happens.  Life and love are offically born.  Your heart immediately doubles in size and every confusing and painful thing prior to that moment suddenly makes sense.  I hope 30 brings that moment again.  No, I'm not pregnant.  Lol.  But I want this spiritual labor to bring God's best for me.  And even though 30 has started out confusing and challenging I trust it won't be for nothing.  30 will bring growth and joy and freedom.  Cheers to 30 years!          

Happy Easter!

Yes, I'm the one sobbing in the back of the church during a packed-out Easter service.  I'm a sucker for Easter.  I love the food, family, and chocolate.  But I also love my Savior more than anything and the sacrifice He made specifically for me.  Christmas I could do without.  Too much stress, and its hard to picture the Lord who has the grace and power enough to redeem me, as a baby.  But the images and reality of Easter are what truely penetrate my heart.  Who could love me so much that He was willing to carry the burden of my sin and die a gruesome death?  Only Jesus Christ.  Ponder that a moment...yeah, WOW.  I pray this Easter you are reminded that your Jesus loves you.  He died for you.  He rose again.  And He is alive and very much real today.  Ready to heal, redeem, and restore you.  That's something worth gratefully sobbing about, right now or in the back of the church.  :)

On another note: you can see what a dork I am for Easter by the pictures below.  I saw these all over Pinterest this week, but no tutorial anywhere.  So here's one.  Not only does the camera add 10 lbs, but it also makes these almost-29 year old hands look like the hands of a 90 year old.  So please ignore the haggard cuticles and my desperate need for a proper manicure.  :)  Enjoy! 

After painting your base coat, paint entire nail white.  2 coats is usually good.

Cut a small strip of tape with a zig zag design or use pinking shears.  Make sure the white is COMPLETELY dry before sticking tape to nail along the tip (jagged edge facing cuticle).  Paint the exposed remainder of nail a bright yellow.  This means the tip will still be white, while the remaining 2/3 of nail will be now be yellow.

 When paint is dry, CAREFULLY remove tape and throw away. 

Poke a straight pin into the eraser of a pencil to use as a dotting tool.  Dot into black polish for eyes and orange for the beak.  See?  A baby chick!  hehe.

Add a clear topcoat and paint the remaining fingers on your hand.  I chose a neutral color by Essie and made yellow polka dots.  Certainly not perfect, but cute anyways!
Happy Easter!

Boredom...

Webster's dictionary defines boredom as "the state of being weary and restless through lack of interest".  I define it as "the act of baking to fill the time in one's day which should normally be spent doing something of more importance, then eating said baked goods to take up (or waste) more time".  In other words, I'm bored today.  And what do I do when I'm bored?  I bake.  And then I eat.  Because why would a frugal being like myself want anything that I worked so hard on go to waste?  Especially if it tastes good!  So here is a recipe I created today and have filled much of my time today eating.  Anything involving chocolate and peanut butter is time well-spent, never wasted.  Enjoy!

Peanut Butter Boredom Cups (Gluten- and Dairy-Free)
*These are adapted from Alicia Silverstone's cookbook The Kind Diet.thekindlife.com

1/2 cup butter (I used 1/4 cup butter + 2 T. coconut oil + 2 T. coconut butter)
3/4 cup crunchy peanut butter (I used Peanut Butter & Co. Crunch Time)
3/4 cup cookie or graham cracker crumbs ( I used Annie's Gluten Free Cocoa & Vanilla Bunny Cookies)
1/4 cup sugar
1 cup chocolate chips
1/4 cup almond milk or milk of choice

Line a mini muffin tray with cupcake liners.  Melt butter in a small saucepan over medium heat.  Stir in peanut butter, cookie crumbs, and sugar and mix well.  Divide evenly among cupcake liners.  (Approx. 1 T. each).  Combine chocolate and milk in microwaveable bowl and microwave until melted.  Stir until smooth.  Top each peanut butter cup w/melted chocolate.  Refrigerate until set.  Store any leftovers in a closed container in the refrigerator.