Bat Poop and Tears

Sitting in the coffee shop of melting pot goodness: Starbucks..a much needed diversion. Observing all the people. The professional millionaires sipping on their tall, extra dry cappuccinos. Laptops open with no doubt a handful of lucrative projects in the pipeline. Straight across from me are two perfect, upper-class moms. With perfect blond hair and perfect lip gloss that magically seems to stay on their lips, even after a dozen sips from their grande skinny easy foam vanilla lattes. Louis Vuitton purse nicely displayed on the top table as if to call out to me, "I know you want me, Shandiin. The purse you have right now is really, really lame." I do want you. I want you really bad, LV. To my left is a college student, pouring over notes and filling in the blanks, only to one day find out that the area in which she sacrificed hours of time, sweat and tears had only lead to a financial and regretful tsunami, gushing with resentment and the ever so popular line, "I should have changed my major." This coffee shop of melting pot goodness is always somewhat predictable. And then there's me. Nestled in the corner. Loving the feeling of just fading into the backdrop of humdrum. Sweat pants, sweat shirt, ponytail, glasses, tall black 1/2 caff, mascara no doubt smudged disgustingly beneath my eyes. Oh my beloved mascara. It was not too long ago I learned you were made of bat poop. I must admit, at first I was traumatized, but I quickly snapped out of it after realizing that my face resembles that of a Axolotl without you. For those of you who don't know but would care to, Wikipedia describes an Axolotl as a neotenic salamander and that they are extremely scientific do to their ability to regenerate limbs. Below is the Axolotl...this is definitely how my face looks without my bat pooh.



Talk about sexy! Whohoo, right?! There is no better way to feel beautiful than to apply poop to my face on a daily basis, let alone look like an Axolotl without it!! Anyways, I digress. Mascara smudged slightly beneath my eyes has become extremely common for me these days. And then I got to thinking...Isn't that where mascara is supposed to be after feeling defeat? After feeling depleted. After feeling as though keeping up and doing it well are two concepts that ever increasingly slip from my grasp and in the process taunt me in my clumsy efforts to keep striving, despite the failure? Mascara smudged beneath my eyes tends to happen more often than I would like to admit. Sometimes I notice it when I just so happen to catch a glimpse at my reflection at random times throughout the day. I think it occurs not only when I cry but when i blink my eyes really hard when I'm trying to understand why Lydia is throwing herself on the ground because she wants me to pick up blanky that just so happens to be 3 inches from her grasp. Wait, what?! Or maybe it's when my sweet Violet decides to sneeze right after i feed her a spoonful of yogurt. I tend to close my eyes and blink really hard. Pretend I have this bogus bod and I'm skipping the ocean shore line with my husband. Or wait, maybe it Ryan Gosling. Anyway, I digress...The blinking hard has proven to serve as an organic stress release or something along the lines of "Shandiin, you SO got this! Maintain sanity and avoid becoming the crazy lady featured on the evening news." There might not be a current resolution to this post. No warm fuzzies to tie it all up in a pretty bow...just the reality of bat poop and it's current resting place...disgustingly smudged beneath my eyes. There are seasons of life, and I would like to think I can master this one and learn and grow. But sometimes, the reality is that being stuck in a difficult emotional state of up-hill battles is reality and I need to learn to LIVE in it. Not wish it be gone, not be caught up in the past of what once was or what I WISH would be, but simply what IS. I once read somewhere that, "Without large blocks of silence, solitude and tears, we are in danger of losing the very best things that people desire to draw from us." I pray this time of inward restlessness, in many days of mascara smudged eyes, will one day result in my ability to minister to other women and to serve as an encouragment of knowing that God WAS and IS faithful in the times of loneliness.

Morphing but Motivated

Growing up, I had always made it a point to write in my journal at least three times a week. I think I started this discipline in 5th grade! If you were to go through some of my boxes in the garage, you would be shocked at how many journals I have filled up over the years. I have always had a love for memories captured in written form. Photographs are obvious, but there is something so unique and beautiful about a heart so completely bare, raw and untainted by the open and endless welcoming of a blank page. Something so alluring about blowing off the dust of an old journal in boxes found in the attic and with it, old chapters of your life. Over the years, my journals have captured the unexpected growth and emerging of someone I would never have recognized five years ago!

I sometimes wonder what happened to the outgoing, energetic, daring, easy-going person I once was? For goodness gracious, just 5 years ago, I was jumping out of airplanes, ready to train solo. But if you were to ask me if I would consider doing something like that now, I would probably shutter and experience a rise in blood pressure! A few years ago, 90% of the time, you would find me hiking trails (most likely Squaw Peek). The peaceful calmness of the oasis above the city, on those well-beaten trails, became a place where I found some of my closest talks with my Creator. I loved the energy and inspiration it gave me. There was something incomparably addicting about the agonizing pain it took to make it to the top, followed by the rush of endorphins you receive as your reward! In addition to these outlets of joy was my experience in working with kids with special needs. Kids with cerebral palsy, downs, autism, kids who were blind, kids who were paralyzed. This was and I believe still is my passion. Those cherished times are far from me and I am far from them. It has been too long since I have spent time cultivating relationships with these precious little ones; I can't even begin to express how much my heart longs to be with them!

So as I ran across some of my journals the other day, and while reading over these pages of my past experiences, I began accepting the fact that I am without a doubt, night and day, a different Shandiin. I'm wrestling with whether or not this is a good thing to embrace or not? Instead of outgoing, I find myself more easily apt to avoid the meet and mingle scene. Instead of energetic, I feel lethargic, with a touch of zombi :) Instead of pursuing my passions, I'm idle. Instead of being easy going, I avoid scenarios or situations that "might" lead to undesirable outcomes...grant it, the likelyhood of that happening: zero to none! Hence the loss of my easy-going spirit! Something inside wants to justify, thinking "this is just a stage." Even more than this, something inside wants to ignite those areas that have been dormant. Part of me feels as if I might never get back part of me that seems to have been buried.

As I sat thinking how I've morphed into a woman I don't recognize, I realized it started happening about 3.5 years ago.....when I became a mom. Now before you start throwing squishy tomatoes at me for blaming my lack of luster on my children, let me clarify :) Ahem...I know it would be ENTIRELY unfair and WRONG for me to blame any of these changes on the demands of motherhood. I have seen far too many amazing women continue doing what they love and doing it WELL even AFTER having kids. I have seen too many amazing women who act out their role of motherhood with grace and joy, IN ADDITION to honing and keeping alive their unique qualities that attribute to revitalization and sanity.

I used to think this was wrong. I used to think this was a selfish, ungodly mindset. To be honest, the self-righteous part of me wants to mask this. But there is something in my core that keeps echoing that in addition to being a mom, God has equipped me with passions and outlets for joy. I'm not in the least bit advocating hedonism in it's tainted term. I'm advocating allowance for no condemnation in the enjoyment of things, skills, outlets, that bring joy and ultimately glory to God that you had BEFORE you became a mom. There is a balance of sacrifice and joy in the cultivation of areas in your life where God has gifted you and where He allows you to flourish.

I realize that sacrifices and adjustments are to be expected in motherhood, but having emerged into someone so completely opposite seems to be such a strange and somewhat sad reality to me. I know that we change as we get older. The parts of me that I DO want to change are my tendencies to sin in areas that I struggle with, but I DON'T want to change the parts of me that provide godly fulfillment and joy. I don't want to be so caught up in motherhood that I forget that God has given me unique and special skills, abilities, and talents. Please don't get me wrong here. God, Family, Others, Self. I get that. But can I just raise the banner of "No Guilt/No Condemnation" as women who love God, desire to be used by Him, and still find a way to find a piece of you... Pre-Babies :) Can I get an Amen?!

Here's my list of things to guide me into this objective:

1. In regards to being Outgoing-"Finally getting next door to have a quality conversation with my neighbor." In place of the fake, smile and wave as I get out of the car.

2. Energetic- Not feeling guilty dropping off the kids while hit some trails! Going to bed early and waking up early to allow time for exercise. Bleh! :)

3. Daring-Killing bugs without my husband. Sorry this is a lame one...still working on something daring to do :) But this will work in the meantime!

4. Easy-going-Not expecting my house to be cleaned throughout the day. Taking more time playing with my loves and less time worrying about how my house looks.

5. Volunteering with Lydia at Special Olympics :)

6. Turning this baby into something special. I'm thinking refinished paint, and a covered fabric seat....


Aaahh...Starting to feel more like myself already!

Is it just me or does life seem to throw disillusionment our way when we least expect it? I can almost hear the clean, crisp "swoosh" of this reality flying through the air and hitting me smack dab in the middle of my forehead! Disillusionment is no doubt rooted in a bed of failed expectations and improper perceptions. Ha! No wonder why I am always on the batters mound! At first, I'm so eager and ready to face this head on. Ready to prove myself wrong. Ready to show that I have progressed and matured, just a little, when this reality takes over. And instead of being ready to hit this sucker out of the ballpark, I am left swinging and missing. Strike one: detachment and isolation are inevitable.

And this is so true of me. Whenever disillusion comes my way, I am left feeling like one of those meerkats I happened to see not to long ago on the Discovery channel. These little guys stand in the open, so sure of themselves and 'confident', when in fact, even when the slightest disruption takes place in their world, those little creatures go running into their self made holes. I mirror these little guys more than I would like to admit. When I feel this since of let down, I'm overcome by it's implications and immediately retreat inwardly. I loose my sense of desire for community and valued relationships.

Once isolation/detachment has me one step closer to sitting in the dugout, I'm left with my second chance. I'm thinking this throw will be dead center, but a curve ball it is. Strike two: presently absent.

Why is it that living in the present is so stinkin' difficult? Enjoying life in the now has never been something that has come naturally to me. My brain is always so wired to think something better, more revealing/life changing is just around the corner. When our finances line up with that, than I'll be more at rest with this...If my daughter would just learn to listen to me, then I wouldn't be so short-tempered NOW....Or, for example, my spiritual life. As failed expectations chip away at my soul, I'm tempted to think that lessons learned will be in my grasp. That I will embrace the spiritual implication and grow closer to the Lord because of it. Are any of you like this? Have you ever been jazzed (um, yes...I just used that word) about being at that fork in the road, and wanting so badly to prove yourself wrong....Prove to yourself, even God, that you won't go down that same broken path? Instead, choosing to venture down the road that you know the Lord has been working on you FOREVER to follow? But when I'm clouded by the heaviness, I become complacent in the now and often times yield to the thought that next time, I will do better in resting my soul in the Almighty. It's always, next time. In the future. Not now, but maybe later I'll try harder...I'll do better. You feelin' me?!

Ok. Clearly my chances for hitting a home run is almost becoming comical. It's obvious that I'm going to need clear/crisp concentration in order to make contact with this fierce, fast moving reality. So here it comes. Yep. No. Wait. Crap. GRrrrrrrr....Strike Three.

Cynicism. It's a nasty beast. Really it is. It's this little tiny thingy that is really a nothing when you're young, but over the years, it's begins to manifest itself with memories, connections, relationships, desires that ultimately dilute new ones. It's when the heart has allowed cynicism to nestle its way into even the smallest portion, that it's nasty roots take hold and grows. Disillusionment has its way in creating a holding pattern in a Believer's life. It creates complacency and a temptation to retreat.

The more I live this life, the more the Lord is hitting home (no pun intended) the idea of how my brothers and sisters in Christ really are my teammates. When I have been to the batters mound and have struck out, I have the opportunity to go back to the dugout and witness my brothers and sisters hit life's struggles/sin out of the park! I see their triumphs over sin and I have the option of whether or not I want to learn FROM them, become transparent with my own struggles TO them (which, may I add...requires your pride to be in check, something I am often times unwilling to do), and invest my time and life and resources WITH them.

The more I live this life, I am overwhelmed by God's redeeming grace...His gentle and loving patience with this fallen sinner. I am grateful that when I'm not the Church's MVP, I'm precious and deeply loved by the Creator of it all.

These are the honest ramblings of a person who is ready, yet again, to step up to the plate.

This Is Just a Stage...This Is Just A Stage...This...is....just....a....stageeeeeeeeeee

I know that there are stages with growing up. My goodness, I'm still going through stages myself! So I often wonder why I expect Lydia to just "get it!" To just understand what I would like for her to do, AND DO IT! *I'm sure if there are veteran moms out there reading this, they are probably making fun of me right now* :)

Anyway, lately Lydia has been so very emotional. And by "so very," I mean like WHOA! It seems from the time she wakes up to the time we put her down for the night, she has undergone a consistent bout of emotional breakdowns. It usually starts 10-15 minutes after she gets up in the morning. Something will set her off and she is ruined. Quite frankly, so is mom. And it just continues throughout the day! By the time I put her down for bed, I'm done. I'm burnt out. And I only have ONE child!!!

Here is the result....Gotta love the Time Outs :)

What's going to happen with a newborn set to arrive in three months and a two year old toddler who is producing the same amount of estrogen as a grown woman?!?!

I'm not trying to be facetious; it's true! My wonderful mother gave me a book by James Dobson entitled, 'Bringing Up Girls.' Dobson elaborates that from the time of three months to three years, little girls' ovaries produce the same amount of estrogen as a grown woman! Can you believe it?! My little pumpkin is right in the smack dab middle of an estrogen bath!!! Her emotions and hormones are so invasive that she does not understand or know how to deal with these changes. It goes on to say that from the age of three to eight years, their body stops producing and there is more of a leveling out of hormones. (Amen, Praise the Lord, Hallelujah!) Then from age eight to menopause, the female body picks up the estrogen surge yet again. This book has really been eye opening to-say-the-least. I always knew, being a woman who has no doubt been hit with the estrogen mother load, that having a girl would have it's share of challenges, but I never realized that babies/toddlers undergo SO much hormonal change in their tiny bodies. I just thought it was a "terrible two" stage and that it's just a kid thing. WRONG!

So with this knowledge in mind, I have started out the last couple of days even more determined to regain my ground and embrace patience as the foundation of all my interactions with my little princess/diva. It's crazy how best intentions melt away when fatigue and frustrations set in. I'm worn out by the tantrums and the unruliness that is currently my daughter. It would be okay if it were a Tantrum Here, and a Tantrum There. But in reality it's...Here a Tantrum, there a Tantrum, everywhere a Tantrum TANTRUM. Oh McMommy had a farm...E-I-E-I-OOOOOO!

I'm trying not to become discouraged with how tired I become. I am proud to say that at least for the first few days of these all day emotional meltdowns, I was able to keep my cool and talk and work with Lydia in getting through and understanding her actions and how if affects others. But I think I reached my breaking point today. I just felt like I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't reason or talk patiently with her. I couldn't take her hand and try to instill Biblical principles that are so crucial in helping her little heart be open to the things of God. I felt like a complete zombi and had no desire to try anymore.

I'm so grateful for my husband. He has seen my frustrations and attempts at being patient, and he has been such an amazing help and support to me. He even canceled his previously scheduled basketball game tonight with his friends, to stay and take Lydia from me so that I can rest and vent on my blog :) Thanks babe, you're a life saver!

Anyway, I know I'm not alone in the frustrations of raising kidos. It's all apart of the journey and I know this is a stage; there will be more stages similar to this that will come as my little lady grows up. I'm aware that it continues to become challenging in each stage they go through.

I think of something a great friend told me on one of our mommy times together. She said that these first few years of life with our little ones are really a gift and a blessing from God to mothers. It's not like Lydia is going to remember the sacrifices I have made or the time I have spent or the opportunities and experiences I have given her at the age of 2. Time is fleeting and I NEVER want to look back on this chapter of my life and remember it as primarily being a tiring, constant battle for sanity and rest. I want to look back on this time with Lydia with sweet abundant memories that, in reality, only I will really remember.

I love you Lydia. I love my sweet, over emotional, bundle of energy. You are precious. Even when you drive me crazy :)

Thank You Mr. Insecurity :)

Welcoming insecurity doesn't seem to be something that would naturally compel an individual to view as spiritually healthy. I have always been taught that my identity and significance should always be found in Christ alone. Any other pursuit of trying to cover up or fulfill some void of "not measuring up" is in vain. Ummm....easier said than done, right!?!

It's funny how I always thought I would grow out of my insecurities. In jr. high and high school (where insecurities and awkwardness run rampant) I thought the day would come when I would leave the world of pettiness and enter into an more stabilized atmosphere of comradery and personal enlightenment (my college years). Certainly then I would be able to tackle the monster that is insecurity. But as college life came around, those same personal struggles became an ever present companion yet again. Consequently, I was left desiring that place where the awkward tension of weakness coupled with growth would become less daunting.

I guess I have always understood the necessity of personal/spiritual growth being the result of weakness refined by fire. The weakness of feeling like I'm not enough. What will my response be to these feelings? I have found that fire can have many different levels of heat. Will I come out of it with the ability to fall on Christ when I am forced to set my gaze on the eyes of failure, or become the subject within the mouth of gossiping lips? Will I be pleasing to the Lord and hide myself in Him? It never really goes away...the refining. Oh that I would come out shiny and clean before my Maker! I believe the Lord allows insecurity to mold and shape and disguise itself so as to bring about a beautiful object of growth despite the weakness of even needing that refinement. Although it is an ever present, unwelcomed necessity, this nemesis cannot get the best of me! And I desire for my Lord to be lifted above my desire for security.

As college came to its end, I had great expectations that as I started working in my profession, I would not fall victim to insecurity. This road of refinement would certainly reach it's end. Or so I thought. After becoming more and more disappointed with my inability to rise above these feelings, I became more and more hopeful that my engagement and marriage to my husband would do the trick. For those of you who are married know, personal weaknesses are placed on a petri dish and looked at with a microscope within the confines of holy matrimony. Oh blessed holy matrimony!!!! There is nothing like having all your insecurities exposed. :) But the Lord is slowly teaching me how lovely, necessary and wonderful to have my best friend know my quarks and shortfalls rather than being imprisoned by isolating vulnerability. I use to rebel and protest this inarguably truthful realization. That my heart is so clearly seen by another. I'm learning to embrace the beautiful design of leaning on another for encouragement and strength in light of my ever present insecurities.

Over time, my reactions to this subject of weakness (perhaps sin is a better word) have become more softened and understood by having my man understand (not all the time, but most often than not) me and the challenges that face a womans ache to feel needed, desired, and wanted.

Finally, after having Lydia (certainly the role of motherhood would solidify my worth) insecurities about being a mother and taking on the role has opened, yet again, floodgates of insecurities. The dangerous trap of comparing myself to other mothers and viewing myself in low regard for my failure to "play the part" has been a new refining process that has been painful yet beautiful.

I'm so grateful that the Lord uses EVERYTHING to point to HIS sufficiency. This life isn't about ME. As much as I desire it to be. It is about SERVICE and SELFLESSNESS and GROWTH. It is about focusing on others and desiring the best out of those around me. The more my focus is outward, the less distracted I am by insecurity. As I mentioned from the start, it might seem ungodly to welcome insecurity. However, I am finding that this ever present battle (one that wont completely go away until I'm with my Lord) has become an uncomfortable companion...always leading me to the Cross and allowing me the opportunity to hide myself in HIM...not in the opinions and/or acceptance of this world.

For that, I would like to say thank you Mr. Insecurity. Thanks for pointing out my inability to do this on my own. :)

The Start of My Blogging Journey :)

Trying to come up with a meaningful blog at 10:00 pm (after an exhausting day both emotionally and physically) seems ridiculous and highly unlikely. So instead, I'm opting to give a short and sweet reason as to why I decided to start writing.

As you can see, I chose a scrapbook background for my blog. I found this appropriate in that I'm writing about my new life as a wipe their butt, receiver of boogers, sippy-cup spills on a newly washed sofa, never leaving the house on time kind of mommy.

A scrapbook is a snippet of life in picture form. This journey of parenthood seems like a continual scrapbook. Life is this crazy balance filled of messy yet beautiful experiences all wrapped into one. I never want to forget the small nuggets of gold I often pass for mere stones as time progresses. I always think I'm going to remember "the little things," but always seem to fail within the realm of best intentions.

Taking on this role as a stay-at-home mom has been the most wearisome yet amazing path I could have ever imagined. Like most moms, my days are filled with highs and lows, loneliness and frustrations, a heart so full of joy it seems ready to explode. I often worry that my mixed emotions scattered throughout my day mean that I'm an unstable/unsuitable mom. But what I'm beginning to find out, and most importantly...what I'm learning to accept is that THIS ALL IS NORMAL! I'm not a mommy freak-of-nature!!! Whooohoooo! :)

And the greatest most wonderful part of all this....Jesus holding my hand through it all!

I know I said this would be short and sweet. It really just turned out long and lame.

With that said, I'm excited to start this whole blogging thingy :)