Celebrating Oliver and Wynter: A Photo Post

On May 15th Oliver turned 2 years old, and a few days ago, on June 25th Wynter reached 6 months old.  These two children are so precious to me, Andrew and I are incredibly blessed to be the parents of two little miracles.  Here are some of my favorite photos from this year so far:

Grandma Sheree and Oliver exploring a creek during her visit in April.

A special moment between mother and daughter at Reid Park Zoo.

Oliver playing in his sand and water toy.

I can't believe it has been 2 years since Oliver Sebastian Whiting entered this world!

Father's Day at Limberlost Park.  Father and son in matching Converse shoes.

At the park, mother and daughter trying to survive the heat.

Wynter, 6 months old and on the move!  The time since she was born has gone much faster than I'd hoped, but I love watching her curiosity grow, and seeing her try out new things every day.

I'm excited to experience the next 6 months of Wynter's first year and watch her learn many new things in such a very short time.  Oliver too, as he is still amazing me with the things he picks up from the people around him every day!

Life With Children

The above picture is just a tiny glimpse into daily life in our home.  This particular morning I had accidentally left the movie cabinet unlocked and Oliver decided this was a prime opportunity to help me reorganize them.  As soon as he discovered my mistake he promptly pulled out nearly all our DVDs, opened a few, spread discs all over the floor, and then abandoned his mess.  Wynter saw what great fun Oliver was having and offered her assistance as well.  She enjoyed chewing on the cases, or the free floating DVDs, and rolling in the mess as though it were a fun pile of fallen leaves.

I had noticed the beginning of this mess, and could have stopped it before it got out of hand, but they were both having so much fun that I decided to indulge them this once.  Normally I'm pretty diligent about keeping the baby lock on that cabinet because I don't want Oliver doing exactly this.

In my last post, 1,2,3, I talked about "letting go".  I mentioned letting go in regards to schedules, housekeeping, and structure, but really you have to learn to let go in all areas of your life when you have children.  Do you laugh, or yell when you find your toddler has dumped water all over your bathroom floor?  Do you cherish, or cry over the time spent lying on the couch because your baby refuses to sleep anywhere but in your arms?  What about when they are both crying or screaming? 

I am nowhere near perfect, or even decent, in my responses.  I often do cry over the time spent on the couch, or scream about the mess I didn't want to deal with, and when they both start crying my response is more often to be louder than them.  (So, this post is more for myself than anyone else.) A day, even just an hour, with children can be extremely trying and stressful.  I have a choice every day to either add to it with my sinful responses, or to lessen it by letting go.  Is it not better and less stressful to laugh over a mess and help your child clean it up?  Is not time spent better cherishing a quiet moment with your baby?  And does adding your loud complaints to your children's raise or lower the stress in that moment?

On days that I stress about messes, or cry over my lack of me time, I don't enjoy being a mother and I don't enjoy my children.  However, on the days where I let go and laugh over messes, cherish the baby in my arms who is growing much to fast, and tend to their desires before mine we are all much happier, and I actually love being with my children and am able to enjoy them.

P.S. I do think that there are times when crying, screaming, or yelling are not sin.  Sometimes I cry and scream out my desperation to God, begging for his help because there is no way I can live out this calling to motherhood without Him.  And sometimes I yell at Oliver because he is headed recklessly toward danger.  I even think that crying to release emotion is okay, and it is my experience that 9 to 12 months of the first year after a baby is born are wrought with intense emotions.  We need to examine our hearts constantly so that our emotions are not products of sin, and we need to remember that calling on God for help with ANYTHING is 100% a good thing.

1, 2, 3...

I have so much I want to say, but I can't seem to put my thoughts together well right now.  I've started and deleted 3 different blog posts already.  It's currently one of those rare times that both of my children are sleeping, and I really wanted to blog, but apparently my brain doesn't want to cooperate.  Maybe if I just do a brief rundown of what I've been trying to say I'll be able to get some of my thoughts down.  I can always expand on it later.

1) Identity.  I don't know if I struggle with this more or less than others, but it's been a struggle all my life.  I'm always worried with fitting in somewhere, or being a certain kind of person (or mother, or wife), and it often takes deliberate thought for me to determine honestly who I am.  I am not defined by how many kids I have, or by breastfeeding, or babywearing, or my choice of parenting style.  I am not defined by the clothes I wear, or how I style my hair.  I am not defined by the books I read, or the movies I watch, or the music I listen to.  I am defined by Christ, and all those other facets of who I am are defined by that. 

I parent the way I do because of who I am in Christ.
I wear the clothes I wear because of who I am in Christ.
I read the books I read, watch the movies I watch, and listen to the music I listen to because of who I am in Christ.

When I remember that, then I feel confident.  When I forget, I begin to question everything and worry that I do not fit where I want to fit.

2)  Advice to mothers. Life changes after every baby.  I know people who have said it, and I know I have said it, but life doesn't go back to normal after a new baby.  Life changes and a new normal has to be formed, or you will drive yourself crazy trying to live as if life hasn't changed at all.  I've had to let go.  There's really no better way to put it.  I've tried to hold onto certain things, structure, schedules, order, and all it does is stress me out.  I've learned that it's better to let a new normal form, than to try and hold onto any previous normal.  It takes time to figure out the new normal, but it's much less stressful.  Life with little children works a lot better when I just let go.

This is my new normal: A constantly messy house in one place or another, it is never all clean at once.  Dinner is simpler, quicker, and later.  Errands are best done early in the day, and should be condensed as much as possible.  Wynter will sleep when she wants, scheduling naps can come later.  My level of patience is directly linked to whether or not I've let go of expectations or not.  Caffeine in some form is a necessity.

3) Children will teach you just how selfish you are.  They need everything from you, demand everything from you, and more.  I can't count how many times I've sat down and literally said, "I have nothing left to give, you took it all already."  Thank the Lord He is able to provide when that happens so I can keep giving, because even if I have nothing left to give the children will keep taking.

Learning Lessons in Hardships, Finding Rest in Joy

I used to think that if Oliver was just a little older, able to communicate his wants and needs in full sentences, or a little bit more obedient than having a second baby in the house wouldn't be as difficult.  I know parents often agonize over when the right time is to have a second child.  Many factors are considered, such as age of the first born, finances, living situation, etc.  It's a hard decision, and I think that when it comes down to it there is no "perfect" time for that second baby, and the "right" time really depends on the family and what is important to them.

For us it was important that Oliver not be too much older than our second baby.  We thought that it would help minimize jealousy, and create a closer bond because he wouldn't remember ever being an only child.  It made perfect sense until right before Wynter was born.  A few weeks before her due date I was suddenly worried that I was stealing something special from Oliver, more time as the treasured only child.  I was worried about how he'd feel about no longer being the sole baby in the house.  I agonized over this, and even cried a few times.  Thanks to a long conversation with a good friend I was able to let go of that guilt and seeing Oliver with Wynter now helps me from feeling any regret over timing. He loves her so much and it's very obvious.

Even though I don't regret how close they are in age, there is no denying that having two children in diapers and neither of them talking (for the most part) is much harder than I thought it would be. Like I said, I used to think it would be so much easier if Oliver was older and able to communicate with understandable words, and maybe potty trained, or able to pick up his own toys.  Recently I have come to the conclusion that each age comes with it's own set of challenges.  Even if Oliver could talk, pick up his toys, or go potty in the toilet, there would be other challenges to deal with.  I don't think that age makes a difference anymore, at lease in regards to the challenge of being a mother of two versus a mother of one.

Coming to this realization has changed my perspective a little.  Honestly, every realization I have regarding motherhood gives me a new or broader perspective.  Figuring out that being a mother of two is impossibly challenging regardless of how old the first born child is really pulled me out of my own head a little.  Of course the exact details of my day to day challenges are unique to our situation and children, but I began to see that regardless of who you are, regardless of your circumstances, adding that second child magnifies the difficulties of motherhood immensely. 

It has also magnified my joy, and my love.  It's hard to see that sometimes because sorrow, frustration, and anger can be so much louder than happiness and contentment.  I was reading in Ecclesiastes today and came upon chapter 7, verse 3.  It says, "Sorrow is better than laughter, for when a face is sad a heart may be happy".  The commentary for this verse says, "...happy times generally teach us less than hard times."  It is painful, and harsh, but true.  The daily hardships of motherhood nearly always teach me something, while the easier happy times are mostly full of peaceful rest for my soul.  For this reason it often feels like the hard times are more frequent, even more memorable than the times of happiness and peace.

Then, just as I was really sinking into despair today because I felt like the challenges of today would be my challenges forever, God reminded me of His grace and gave me hope.

"Indeed, there is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and who never sins." 

Ecclesiastes 7:20

It is reassuring to be reminded that perfection is unattainable on this earth, though that doesn't stop me from looking to Christ for transformation.

The Lord's lovingkindness indeed never ceases,

For His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.
"The Lord is my portion," says my soul,

"Therefore I have hope in Him."

Lamentations 3:22-24

When hope is lost we need to remember God's faithfulness, His love, and the hope we have in Him.

I called on Your name, O Lord,

Out of the lowest pit.
You have heard my voice,

"Do not hide Your ear from my prayer for relief,

From my cry for help."

You drew near when I called on You;

You said, "Do not fear!"

O Lord, You have pleaded my soul's cause;

You have redeemed my life.

Lamentations 3:55-58

Last, but maybe most of all, these 4 verses gave me strength.  Despair is a pit of darkness that blots out hope.  While drowning in that pit I forget that God can reach into the deepest, darkest places of despair and help us out, back into the light.  He will always hear us, and He will always help us. It is God who brings light into the darkness, and hope to the hopeless.

Dark Clouds

I don't normally like to compare gloomy feelings with "gloomy" weather because I am a huge fan of rain, dark clouds, lightning storms, cold, so called gloomy weather.  However, dark clouds blot out the sun, just like depression and feelings of hopelessness blot out happiness and joy, so I think the comparison is appropriate.

If I were a character in Winnie the Pooh, it would be Eeyore.

 Lately that's how I've felt, I mentioned it in my last post, like dark clouds have blocked out the happiness and joy that my life should bring. 

I should say here that I do not want to write about this at all, but I am because this is something everyone says you shouldn't hide, and because my tendency is to hide it in shame and fear, but if I knew someone who was going through this I would want them to be open about it so that I could be supportive and helpful.

_______________

"Good morning, Pooh Bear," said Eeyore gloomily. "If it is a good morning," he said. "Which I doubt," said he.

________________

 Postpartum depression (ugh, even the name is depressing) is supposedly very common.  I'll spare you statistics and symptoms because you can Google it and find millions of sites giving you that information.  Even though I wasn't diagnosed with it last time, I am certain it stole the first 5-7 months after Oliver was born.  I started pulling out of it because of the holidays, but I don't think it was until after we moved when he was 9 months old that it was completely gone.

This time I fought really hard against getting depressed because I didn't want to feel that way ever again.  Anytime I thought I might be getting depressed I would try to identify something that would lift my spirits and do it, or identify what was causing it and fix it if possible.  Recently, nothing was working.

(Side note: this showed up in my Facebook feed this morning. Please listen to the interview, it's really very good.)

God is an amazing God. As I talked about in my last post He used a song to really uplift my spirit.  He gave me a break yesterday too, it was the easiest, most stress free day I've had in weeks.  His timing is impeccable as well.  I had given up and given in.  I no longer cared if I spent the day on the couch.  Just doing the basics (changing diapers, getting dressed, fixing food, etc.) had become so difficult.  I repeatedly thought things like, "I hate my life", or "I hate myself", or "why did I ever think I could be a good mom". 

It took me a long time to admit I was feeling this way too. I thought that if I admitted it then I was saying several things, that I wasn't a good mom, that I didn't love my husband or children, that I was not thankful or unsatisfied with the life God had given me, even that I was losing site of the Gospel because I was feeling hopeless.  There is also that irrational (though it really doesn't feel irrational, and for me has been the overriding reason for remaining in denial outwardly) fear that if you admit to feeling this way then the state will be notified that you are not a fit parent and your kids will be taken away from you.

Here is the hard truth that I had to face, my hopelessness was a product of my happiness relying on things and people who are not God and can only provide temporary, imperfect happiness and joy.  When I faced that it didn't make me feel any less depressed, in fact I think that's when I decided to just give up because I despaired in the fact that I could not bring myself to stop idolizing people and things and place my reliance in God alone.  It wasn't until God reminded me, through the song 10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord) by Matt Redman, that it isn't by my own strength that I can change, but by God's.  That is the glorious truth that renewed my spirit and lifted me out of the extreme hopelessness I had found myself in.