edge of learning...

the title of today's entry probably will make my teacher friends laugh...

it's teacher lingo through and through.

it's what we talk about when we discuss our students and where we would ideally like to have them all day, every day... right at that cusp of understanding and building on something new.

God has me here right now, at my edge.

well, i've been here for awhile in many respects... learning how to be a mama, learning how to love and accept myself, learning how to control my eating... you know... basically every struggle of mine has an edge.

i have a whole lotta edges.

but let me just pause here to say that the older i've gotten (and yes, i realize i'm not THAT old yet) the more i'm beginning to enjoy my dance on the edge with God.  when i've learned to actually let Him lead me by listening in the quiet spaces of my heart, my life changes drastically for the better.  i learned this lesson in college and have relearned it in many different instances over the past 13 or so years.

He speaks and if i choose to listen... miracles unfold.

i have been schooled many a time, though the best lessons have always been in more traumatic situations... my dad's cancer diagnosis and the 6 nightmarish months until he went home are a prime example.  out of pain, came dependence on the only ONE who could get me through... and that ONE does not have flesh and bone... at least in the past couple of thousand years he hasn't.

so when i *heard* the Lord recently, i had to pause in excitement and terror.  i'm not one to turn down adventure, but i sure like to drag my feet a little.  especially if i'm not sure where we are headed.

i was standing in the shower mentally whining to God... seems like lately i haven't had as much time to focus on my spiritual life... so i've been doing a little visiting with God during my morning shower.   sadly, i even multitask with God.  fortunately, He loves me and lets me talk to Him whilst in the buff.  besides, i had some pretty emotional territory to discuss with him...  i was overcome by a feeling that i needed to be at home with Leif instead of spending an insane amount of time and energy on other peoples' kids.

i know that sounds terrible... maybe only my teacher friends will fist bump me on this one.  but my job is not only demanding because of the mandates and the low socioeconomic status of the population i work with... but it's demanding because i'm often times the only source of structure and discipline some of these kiddos get... along with the role of being their therapist, nurse, mom, protector, disciplinarian (oh yeah, and the lady who's supposed to teach them how to read and write)... you name it.  during the workday, i do it all.  and lately i had found myself wishing i could just be all of those things for my son.  i wanted to be there for his firsts, to put him down for his naps, to not feel like i was working my toosh off from 7-4, running around like a chicken with my head cut off from 4-8 after i get home from work, sitting on the couch like a dazed and confused zombie from 8-10 (if i was lucky enough to get him to sleep at a decent hour) and starting all over again the next morning at 5:30 (not to mention the 2-3 times he wakes me up to nurse in the middle of the night).  on top of it all, the weekends are not the least bit relaxing at all.  aren't they supposed to be a source of respite?  a place to recover from your long week of working your tail off?  mine were spent cleaning, doing laundry, grocery shopping and feeling totally jipped on the quality time i was supposed to be having with my husband and son.

so... i was telling God that i just wanted some sort of miracle.  that if there was just some way he could bring balance into my life... i would really appreciate it.  i laughingly asked Him (probably because I didn't really believe He would) if He could PLEASE find some way to let me be home with our baby more.

i halfheartedly asked because i didn't really believe kjaer (or God for that matter) would go for it... just because kjaer and i had some conversations early on when we were dating that had led me to believe it wasn't an option.  i also had never truly taken the idea seriously for myself. i had never really pictured myself as  the stay at home type.  plus, sometimes i act a little martyr-ish with God... oh, He'd never do something like that for little ol' me.

good thing God doesn't fall for that sort of self loathing crap.

the next night was date night... a tradition for kjaer and i since our early days of dating (even got married on date night).  we always set wednesdays aside for each other... even if the only thing that's special about it is that we don't answer the phone... it's our uninterrupted night of one-ness.  (leif has been pretty good at trying to interrupt this, but don't worry... we've been taking back the night lately!)  so, i'm making dinner and we're drinking wine and chatting (so sophisticated... aren't we?)  when out of the blue kjaer says, what would you think of going part time next year?

ha, ha, very funny God!  i thought.

but then i realized...
this is God's answer to you, dummy.  You asked for a sign... and sister, He just gave it to you.  

if i could've actually raised only one eyebrow at kjaer (a favorite facial expression of kjaer's that he does to me routinely)... this is where it would've happen as i replied, "what do you think about it?"

what i was really asking is... is this a trick question???  i mean... i hadn't expressed any of those feelings i had been praying about to kjaer yet, as they were a newer development in me.  how could he know what i had been praying about during my shower/prayer session?  i took this not only as an answer... but a call to change directions in my life... a sign.

and the path to where i am today began to appear.  this is what happens when you watch and listen for signs and then move your toosh.  doors start flying open.  

actually, at first it felt like too many doors were flying open and slamming shut.   at one point i told my mom it was like having different dinner plates getting cracked over the top of my head and trying to sort through the chaos and figure out what belonged with what.  i felt like holding a poster board up to the heavens that said, 

what. 

the. 

heck?

but instead of the poster, i found it best just to say those things to God aloud, because He'll make sure to get you where you're supposed to be going if you keep asking.

which is why i audibly said to Him... more than once...
what.the.heck?

now that i think about it... i'm probably just as annoying as that kid in my class... and there's one every year.... who worries that you won't get them to whatever activity they're really looking forward to... lunch, art, their turn on the computer.  i always respond with, "have i ever not gotten you to lunch before?  trust me... i'll get you there."

that's probably what God says to me.  and i probably shrug him off like that kid in my class and ask again 5 minutes later...

what.the.heck?

anyways....

i kept grasping to the sign and telling God he needed to be a little more like mapquest and a little less like a crossword puzzle.  there were a lot of part time jobs available, but none had a schedule that matched what we could feasibly do.  we couldn't find or afford 5 day a week care... even if it was just 5 half days.  i had just about given up.  in fact, i shouldn't even say "just about"... i did give up.  when a door i was peering into closed, i tucked my tail between my legs and gave up.

i would lay in bed at night and say to kjaer, "i really thought that's where HE was leading me... i'm so confused."

(and then i would say, rather sadly and pitifully to God... what.the.heck?)

in case you haven't figured out by now, i can be pretty persistant with Him... which leads me to my next point... if you feel like God is leading you somewhere and the pathway is unclear DO NOT EXPECT HIM TO WORK IN YOUR TIMEFRAME.  his plan is always better and you just can't give up talking to him about it (unless He tells you to, and then i'd suggest shutting the heck up!)

two weeks ago my principal pulled me into her office and told me to think "creatively" about part a time teaching position.  it didn't have to look the traditional way... half days, 5 days a week.  

and thus, my new position was born.  i'm sharing a room with another fabulous teacher.  i'm teaching math and science 2 full days and a half day a week... she takes the literacy load.  best of all... the grandma's can cover the 1/2 day of work with leif so we only need to find childcare 2 days a week.

we're still working on the childcare facet of this new path... but i'm trusting that because God told us to jump... and we did... that He'll provide.  it might not be in our comfort zone... which would be to keep martha for forever... but it'll be His plan... which is always best.

once i accepted the position, i felt like the puzzle piece that was missing for so long just fit snugly into place.  i find myself walking around and whispering thank you throughout the day to the big man upstairs.  He didn't have to work in mysterious ways... but he did.  and for that, i'm so grateful.

so bring on the 4 FULL days a week of our brilliant baby boy.  extra full days of laughter, love, diapers, grumpiness, keeping house, making dinner for the hubs, naps, sesame street, hugs and kisses.  bring on two extra days a week of our sons early childhood and his mama being present for it.  

what a gift.  

seriously.

(my heart is screaming thank you God!)

it does come with some financial sacrifice (i still send myself into a tailspin when i think about 401K's, retirement, saving for college, etc.) but then i hear my friend karen happily reminding me in her best tough voice...

take it to Jesus!!!!

and so,
because he whispered to me, and i answered, i have to trust that He knew what he was talking about.  

it also comes with some personal sacrifice...   for instance, the unthinkable is happening; we're turning off cable.

someone hand me a paper bag please!!!

but once i remember the benefit, i stop whining about not knowing what's going on with the kardashian sisters.  because i'd much rather know what's going on with leif and his siblings. 

so if God has led you to an edge, my friends.,,  if you're standing there, like me, with your little toes wiggling over the edge...  i dare you to jump.

jump for all it's worth.
jump with faith... even if it's the tiniest bit.

  because we can never move forward to new places, amazing paths, if we don't take a chance.  hold up your big signs to the heavens that say,  

I'm Scared

Help Me Do This

I Can't Do It on My Own

What.The.Heck

and He'll move.  His direction might surprise you... His ideas might freak you out.  but, i swear, they are always better than ours.  and because he loves you, he will see you (shakin' in your boots) through.

and when He does... don't forget to put down those old signs,
throw your arms up into the warm sunshine and sing,

thank you! thank you! thank you!

all of the above...

about a month ago i found myself leif-less and happily wandering the aisles of party city looking for elmo decorations. i stood there debating whether i should buy the dinner napkins AND the dessert napkins since we planned on keeping it low profile this year... and then chucking them both into my basket mentally exclaiming that he only turns 1 once and besides... we are going to have a small party.

so what's a few napkins, cups and party hats?  right?

well, forty dollars later i found myself still justifying the expenditure because i still believe he only turns one once... and besides, we can use the leftovers on #2 one day.

the funny thing is it still hadn't really hit home that our little man is turning one.

i don't think it actually hit home until about a week later... when he went from taking a few drunken sailor steps between kjaer and i... to walking across a room while my back was turned.  the change came almost instantaneously.

we had been watching leif happily totter between us, the previous two weeks, while we clapped and cheered.  never once did it occur to me that the shift from this stage would be so rapid.  one night we eyeballed him carefully as he swayed back and forth between his two home bases, the next night we watched him walk from the kitchen to the living room, pausing briefly to let the dog pass.

kjaer and i basically exchanged a look that said, "well crap... that went by fast."

and the i realized that his first year has passed and the kid is sprinting into his future.

a year ago this month i was laying in a hospital bed, three sets of stitches in my guts, holding the sweetest smelling creature you could have ever met and wondering what had just happened to us.

don't get me wrong... i knew i was going to have a baby the whole time.  but when that sweet boy was laying in my arms i felt so incapable and insecure, so wild with love yet scared to death.  i wasn't really sure exactly what was down the road for us all.  all i knew was my little snow globe of life had been turned up-side-down and i was desperately trying to reorient myself to this new life we had started.

looking back, i have many sweet memories clouded by my senseless hormone laden brain.  there were some dark moments in those first few weeks too... brought on by a mild case of post-partem (it's definitely a real thing folks) and a severe lack of sleep.  i remember people cooing to me, "isn't motherhood just the most amazing thing?  isn't it so hard to picture life without him?" and staring blankly back at their (horrified) faces because i could still so clearly remember my un-responsible days before him... you know... when i used to sleep.  of course i loved him fiercely, but i was learning just how much work being a new mother was and i was totally unprepared for the initiation i got.  plus, we had issues... breastfeeding issues that took about 2 or 3 months to iron out... so on top of feeling like i was going to starve my helpless newborn babe, i was constantly stressed about things i never even knew existed before leif... like the mysterious latch and nipple shields.

those first few months were wonderful and stressful.  i'll tell you one thing, maternity leave was amazing and when i had to leave him at 3 1/2 months old to go back to work, i understood why switzerland gives its mothers a year of leave.  mama's are supposed to be with their babies.  at least THIS mama.  i can vouch for this because i have the best daycare provider/situation in the entire world (a.k.a. martha) and i still want to be with leif.  i have been brave all year as i've gone off to work every morning putting on my happy working mom face when i'd rather crawl back into bed with my warm little potato and change his diapers all day. i sometimes find myself staring over 2nd graders heads at the clock and counting hours until i can be home with my little family.

during the first few months of leif's life, he won me over every day.  the kid was irresistible.    sometimes i look back at the tiny little photos i sent kjaer from my phone (when he had to go back to work) and i realize how crazy i was about him even though i was struggling so much to find my bearings.  i would spend hours staring at him and trying to catch the right look on my phones crappy camera to share with his daddy while dressing him up in clothes that were too big for him because i couldn't wait for him to wear his brown corduroy cargo pants.  i remember kjaer returning from the outside world and feeling a little like the crazy mama's you see in the movies... hair all askew, talking about oprah... only i was talking about leif and my milk supply.  i'm sure those vows kjaer said not so long ago were scrolling through his head as he looked at this lunatic and wondered where his sweet wife went.

but then, the haze lifted.  i don't know what happened, but as i connected with my babe over the next few months it became quite obvious to me that i couldn't picture life without him anymore... i could remember it... kind of... but i didn't want it anymore.  even now those days seem so far behind me.  

now i sit here, my toddler happily sleeping upstairs, wondering where exactly all of those first few months went.  what happened to that sweet little baby who'd lay on his playmat and kick, kick, kick his legs?  or... remember when i could sit him up at a spot somewhere and he'd be there when i got back?  ahhhh.... those were the days.  the days before movement.  

i find myself staring at different pictures from a few months ago and realizing that it was taken back before he was even crawling.  and now i have a full blown walker on my hands... a mere few months later.  where did that tiny little baby go?

which leads me to the next burning question... what will he be doing 4 months from now?  

my friends, i'm new at this.  everything for me has been a little bit of dipping my toes in the water, splish-splashing a bit and then slowly wading in to ankle deep water.  i have that new mama feeling where i want to make every right decision and not just dive in and make mistakes.  don't get me wrong, i think i'm relaxed in most aspects when it comes to leif... my dearest friends and family have permission to slap me silly if i'm not... but i'm not exactly the most confident at times.  there are days when i drag myself into bed and wonder if i'll fail at this.  but most days i watch my amazing husband love on our son and see all that i've accomplished that seemed so daunting a mere 12 months ago and i think...

i've got this.

and i'll tell you why... by the grace of God, an amazing partner in crime (props to the hubs), the endless support of friends and family and one incredible, irresistible kid.  i'm sure there are many triumphs and tribulations ahead...  

but i tell you... with all of the above, we're home free.  

gestures of love...

this week marks 3 years of marriage to my sweet babboo... and over 8 years of dating him.  i can safely say that we've been together for awhile.  it's strange to have 8 y.e.a.r.s. roll off of my tongue and still feel as happy and satisfied as i did when we first started dating... though our love has continued to grow and change over time.

i started writing this blog last month with hopes to post it on valentines day.  but these days... everything takes longer than i think it should.  i'm constantly behind the times (i just sent out thank you notes for some things leif received at christmas time and it's MARCH for goodness sakes!)  so enjoy the fruits of my february labour of love... and the additions that came to it for our anniversary.

valentines day...

i remember always walking around the halls of my high school or church with a wistful longing that some fetching young lad would approach me and profess his undying love and devotion to me... with a handful of roses, of course.  

but it never happened.  

i was just never one of those cool cats.  

you know the ones... the girls who left school on valentine's day afternoon with a hauling of loot from the boys (or A boy).  they'd trapse out of school, carting their vases and balloons, sharing their chocolates with their friends, all with the promise of a wonderful date that evening with their admirer.

me?  

i'd go home, sulk... and drown my sorrows in a box of conversation hearts my mom lovingly set at my place at the table.

and then i'd sigh and think... maybe next year.

now that i'm older and wiser, i know that dudes absolutely hate valentines day... especially my dude... and that the last thing most of them wanted to do was profess their awkward love to some sappy girl on february 14th.  

when i started dating kjaer, i learned that valentines day was just another day to him... and that a man who really loves you makes lots of celebrations of love for you throughout the year.  kjaer has spent the last 8 years of our lives showing me he's loved me by making these gestures in a quieter, less hallmark-y way.

the early days... kind of (2007)

you see, kjaer and i had been friends for about a year and a half before we ever even considered dating.  when we did start dating, it was because there was suddenly an explosion of chemistry that just couldn't be contained.  we had started hanging out quite a bit outside of work.  one december afternoon he walked oh-so-casually down the hall (i always loved watching him saunter) and asked me if i'd like to wake up in the middle of the night and watch a meteor shower with him.  his first grand gesture of many.

here's how you know we were young:

1) we would be meeting at 2 am

2) it was a "school" night (ie - we worked the next day)

i tried not to let him know that i was the least bit excited and very casually said, "sure."

he told me he'd call me and wake me up.

i'd never been so excited in my little boy-adoring life.  here was this handsome guy asking me to rendez-vous in the middle of the night to watch stars, for crying out loud!!!  

AND IT WASN'T EVEN VALENTINE'S DAY!!!!!

when he called to wake me up around 1:30 or so, he glumly explained that the skies were overcast.  "BUT," he told me,  "we have options."  we could go back to sleep or hope that the skies cleared by the time we got out to our viewing spot.  

probably a level-headed person would've said, "oh well, that's too bad." and have gone back to bed.  

but not us. 

we decided to hope for a miracle and i hopped into my car to meet him.  (though i'm sure there was plenty of primping but only enough to make me look like i rolled out of bed beautiful).  when i got to kjaer's he had made a thermos of hot chocolate (!) and had his old jeep cherokee packed with blankets and a telescope.  he ushered me into his car and we took off into the cloudy, blackness of night.  

he drove me out to a desolate field, set up the telescope, cracked open the thermos, wrapped us up in blankets and then we settled in to wait for the stars to emerge from behind the clouds.  while we waited, we talked and scooted closer to each other.  

we waited the entire night for that meteor shower... and it never did make its grand appearance.  but something was ignited on that chilly, fateful night.  the next morning, i found myself rubbing sleep out of my starry eyes while trying to teach a room of 30 second graders.

and i tell you,  i just could not get that boy out of my head.

as the weeks went on, kjaer and i dabbled a little more with the idea of not just being friends... until finally a few weeks later... that handsome man kissed me.   it was the night before christmas eve... affectionately called christmas eve's eve from then on. ( i used to make kjaer celebrate this date as our genisis.  each year he'd call me... and i could tell it was to appease me... to wish me a merry christmas eve's eve.  i appreciated the gesture.  that man knows how to float my boat.)

needless to say, when february rolled around a few months later, i was quite excited to have my own real valentine.  it still felt a little awkward... it was like we were the best of friends who kissed too much and couldn't stop holding hands.  ahhhh.... young love.  but i'll never forget our first valentine's day.  he had just bought his house (now our house) several months prior.  it was a hud home that had been refinished in the saddest way by contractors.  he had purchased it and was in the process (which turned out to be a 2 year process) of gutting and refinishing it himself with the help of his family.  we'd often meet over there early in our relationship to hang out, kiss a little and dream of his bachelor pad.  he'd tell me with great big sweeping gestures which walls would be torn down and where new ones would go, how he'd do this or that to it.  i'd gaze at him in amazement (i still do when i think of all he's done with it) and trip over myself because i was so crazy about him.

so on that first valentine's day he invited me up to the roof of his house for an evening picnic.  we'd spent a lot of time up there already, bundled under blankets (must've been a pretty mild winter that year) watching stars.  so i met him there.  we climbed up the ladder to our perch on the northwest corner, he pulled out our dinner (sub sandwiches and potato chips) and we stayed up there for hours talking, laughing... and probably too much kissing again.  he told me he'd build an observation deck for us, so that our things wouldn't roll off of the roof and we could relax up there.

i still think he plans on building that...

all of this rambling is to say that my man has the most extraordinary ways of showing me he loves me.  he's quieter than most men and he thinks my loud gestures of adoration a tad bit goofy... though i know they are endearing to him.  but he has spent the last 8 years creating countless moments of love that have never been initiated by a greeting card company.  and though he made me a nice dinner on valentine's day this year... its the other 364 days with him that prove to me that i'm undoubtedly loved.

like how he makes me peanut butter french toast every saturday morning while i read aloud from our novel, how he listens to me when i cry and get a teensy bit hysterical over nothing (generally speaking), how he sometimes gets my coffee ready for me while i nurse leif before work (3 tbsp of amaretto cream and 1 tsp of sugar), how he makes me a juice packed full of fruits and veggies everyday for a snack at work, how i find my windows scraped on cold mornings when he's left 1/2 an hour before me.  how he sends me songs and emails throughout the day to let me know he's thinking of me.  how he feeds and waters trooper, even though trooper used to be one of the hardest parts about me to accept.  how he has quietly held me in his strong arms through the happiest and saddest seasons of my life.  how he is constantly compromising his hopes and dreams to make sure that he and i (and our family) are rock solid for years to come.  and how he strives to be a wonderful husband and father each and every day.

his kind of love doesn't show up in the form of roses and chocolate (though he has gotten me flowers a few times... which always emits shrieks of giddy pleasure from me... my old high school self feeling vindicated!) and that's the way i like it.  i'd rather have him romancing me the way he does best... not how the world tells him to do it.

it reminds me a little of the reading from our wedding.... 

"If the old fairy-tale ending "They lived happily ever after" is taken to mean "They felt for the next fifty years exactly as they felt the day before they were married," then it says what probably never was nor ever would be true, and would be highly undesirable if it were. Who could bear to live in that excitement for even five years? What would become of your work, your appetite, your sleep, your friendships? But, of course, ceasing to be "in love" need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense-love as distinct from "being in love"—is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity, maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by (in Christian marriages) the grace which both partners ask, and receive, from God. They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not like yourself. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be "in love" with someone else. "Being in love" first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it."

-- C. S. Lewis

when i reread these words, i feel a healthy sense of pride in the man my husband is.  he is a man of devotion, kindess and has a deep sense of commitment.  a man who understands that our love changes and grows, but it never ceases... and like a garden, it requires constant tending.  i'm so thankful that God has blessed me with him and that he is the head of our family.  

last night kjaer and i celebrated our three years together by going out to dinner where we had our wedding reception and then walking over to the hotel where we promised our lives to each other.  the sage room was set up for a brunch the next morning and vacant, so i dragged him in there, right up to the front where we had said those vows 36 months ago.  

i could feel my heart beating wildly as i nervously looked him straight in the eye, grabbed both of his hands and i said those vows to my valentine again.  because my man deserves grand gestures too.  and if i've learned anything over the course of our love story, it's that loving each other and telling the other so, will never be in vain.  

so... i'll say it every year, just like i did at the end of our wedding.

kjaer...

"if my heart was a compass, you'd be north."

i love you as big as the moon and beyond...

and i'm so glad we have a lifetime of valentine's days... and un-valentine's days... ahead of us.

all choked up...

you guys...

how did we ever survive our first year of life?

i'm serious.

i feel like my house is a giant death trap and leif is walking into them all.  he's a magnet for destruction.  last week i spent an obscene amount of late night time, pacing around my house like a crazy zombie on the hunt for anything that would harm our child.  i was all twitter-pated because he had choked... and i mean REALLY choked... for the first time that evening.

it didn't even happen at our house... but a series of events led up to the choking and now i'm worried our child will swallow the nearest lint ball and keel over.

i think all of this actually started over christmas break, when he started crawling.  he started finding little objects that we didn't even know existed and putting them into his mouth.  i once found a piece of glass from a broken ornament in his mouth.  the next day it was the teeny tiny stem from the top of a clementine.  never mind that in both instances i had just vacuumed and swept... he STILL managed to find something off of (what i thought were) our spotless floors.  

 it's ok if you judge me... i'd judge me. 

and then, just mere hours ago, i thought i saw him working something around in his mouth like a wad of tabacco.  when i got a sneak peak i saw a flash of white.  trying to remain calm i reached in (only to push it further back... #1 no no rule of parenting i just broke).  so i had kjaer fish it out and there was ANOTHER piece of glass.  WHAT?!?!  after crawling around on hands and knees, turning over every object in sight, we found a chipped corner on one of our coasters,  of all things!  leif almost swallowed glass from a stupid coaster!!

so... you can probably say that i've become pretty aware of the need to childproof.  clearly keeping a clean abode isn't enough to protect my precious little peanut, so we're starting on this very sllllooooowwww journey of learning how to childproof.

look ma! no more glass! (thanks pop!)

except it's more like, we think we've got the bases covered... and then leif finds the chink in our armor and we realize we have more work to do.

last week we were all hanging out on the floor next to a bag of, ironically, childproofing apparati.  leif was patting on the bag so we could hear it crinkle when suddenly he popped his hand in his mouth.  i then realized, a split second later that he had stuck an outlet cover in his mouth.

yes, a childproofing outlet cover.

(it's only mildly humorous because he's ok)

i panicked.

i held his arms so that kjaer could sweep it out of his mouth.

leif just got pissed off because we were ruining his good time... but mommy and daddy prevailed.

(and then exchanged very relieved looks)

just didn't know how we would explain to our friends that our child choked on a device that was actually meant to child proof your home...

worst.

parents.

ever.

so we headed out the door to mcdonalds.  i mean, it seemed the only logical thing to do.  actually, it was mcteacher night for kjaer and he wanted to show off his family (well, probably mostly his son... but i don't mind being arm candy!)  it was crazy busy and leif was grumpy (after we had already foiled one of his plans for the evening).  i had found a booth and leif was crunching on his little puff cereal whilst perched on top of a table.  kjaer was grabbing a high chair while i had two hands on our little mover and shaker.

kjaer showed up with the high chair and i picked leif up and set him down without thinking that he had a piece of puff still in his mouth.

he started choking.

and not in a zoolander-ish fashion

(cough, cough, i think i've got the black lung pop!)

it was a struggling for air, couldn't get a cry out for a few of seconds choke.  but because he could mostly still cry out and was coughing, we did what you were supposed to do and waited it out.  it was the longest few seconds of my life.  the whole instance probably took 30 seconds but it felt like many agonizing minutes of watching him choke.  finally, the poor kid threw up all over kjaer and started crying.  i was so thrilled he threw up and was crying i hardly noticed my poor vomit covered husband across the booth.

vomit = not choking baby

so, for me, it spelled relief.

for kjaer, it spelled loss of appetite.  

that night i drove home with this sense of foreboding... just how long was this choking faze supposed to last and how could we ensure our son made it through?  i mean... if you hadn't already judged me by the first piece of glass... surely you're questioning my parenting abilities by the 2nd piece!!  aren't you a little worried too?

or is this just parent-hood?

do you all do this too?

i really need to know.

so now we're in full swing... kjaer is rushing to complete his masterpiece of a cable railing so that we can put up gates, i'm checking every outlet and cupboard while hunching over our floor with a magnifying glass to scope out possible swallowing material. 

it's exhausting, a little nerve wracking, and a bit terrifying to be so responsible for something so wonderful.

but then you see his little face and you think...

well, ok, for you i will.   no one else... but you?  yes. 

so pray for us folks.  not just a little... but a whole lot.  ask for grace and mercy.  ask for peace of mind and protection.  and ask that kjaer and i remember to pick our eyes up off the booby trapped floor and enjoy each little moment we have with our man.  parenthood may have been designed to refine you through stress... but it was also meant to be a blessing.  and i want to always remember the blessing we have and enjoy every day rather than worrying about every little thing.  so most of all... pray that we can still chill out, in spite of the worries, and enjoy our little miracle of a man!  

getting schooled...

before i became a parent...

and i mean BECAME a parent (as in Leif had come forth from my body)

i had opinions 

.

.

.

.

.

allllllll sorts of 'em...

opinions about breastfeeding, cloth diapers, natural childbirth, discipline, childcare... you name it.   basically, i thought i knew how to be a parent and raise a child... before i had logged any hard time.  

you realize, that's like having opinions about how you should train for a marathon without ever having run a step.  

yup... that was me.  little miss smarty pants.  

and i'm not the only one with these strong opinions.  everyone else wears the smarty pants too... we all have opinions.  i know... because many folks expressed their approval or disapproval to many of the choices kjaer and i have made over the past 8 months of Leif's life... about choosing a nanny over daycare, cloth diapering, breastfeeding... you name it.  

but since i am now a mama... i find myself adjusting and shifting what i thought i knew... or what society had tried to convince me was the "right" way.    i'm forging my own path and finding that what works for me, may not be what worked for another fellow matriarch.  or what works for society, is not necessarily what works for us.

bear with me... because i have been chewing on this for months now... not quite sure how to put words to something so seemingly easy to understand.  

but this past week i found my perfect example... co-sleeping.

it's like a bad word when you say it within certain circles... at least i've always felt that way.  to be honest, when i was pregnant i hadn't really given it much thought.  when i'd hear other stories of people co sleeping (and the judgements that people would pass whilst telling me about them) i'd just sort of nod and agree.  

but what the heck did i know?

i figured Leif would sleep in our room in his bassinet and we'd transition him over to his own room when we were ready.  or maybe he'd sleep serenely in his crib, kjaer and i holding each other close while flipping off his light.  

after learning that there was research that indicated that sleeping within 6 feet of your child for the first 6 months of life decreased SIDS rates significantly, kjaer and i decided Leif would be sleeping in our room and that 6 months seemed like a great time to transition Leif back to his crib.  

so about a week before my due date, kjaer found a very pregnant woman in our bedroom putting together a pack and play and estimating how far it was from the bedside... because she just didn't want to be the mom with 7 feet between her and her son and have something go wrong.

then Leif was born.

i learned immediately that nothing felt better in the world than laying that baby on my chest, skin to skin.  i mean... research said it was good to do... but the minute that babe was on my chest i didn't give two craps about the research.  i was sold.  and kjaer was too, surprisingly. 

in fact, one night in the hospital i had fed Leif in the middle of the night and he had fallen asleep on my chest.  i, too, had fallen asleep.  the nurse came in and woke me... she seemed absolutely horrified.  i suppose looking back on it now, she was worried about legal ramifications, so i guess i can't blame her.  but i'm telling you that baby was going nowhere.  first of all, i was so soft and chubby, he just sunk right into me.  second of all, call it instinct.  only a parent can tell you this... but for the first 4-6 weeks, if you let them, your baby will sleep on your chest and you will be so relaxed holding them close that you, too, will fall asleep.  i apologized to the nurse, put my little man back into his bassinet next to my hospital bed and went back to sleep.  i was horrified when i woke up to feed him a few hours later and she had moved him to the nursery so that i "could get more rest."  i knew, deep down, it was because i had sinned.  i had fallen asleep with my babe on me and they weren't going to risk something dreadful happening.  i demanded he be brought back into the room with me, promising to keep him in his bassinet when i slept and saved those precious chest sleeps for our time at home.  

then we came home.  i decided the location of Leif's bassinet was on the verge of 6.25 feet away from our bed.  so every night i would scoot his pack and play against my bed.  

not next to it.

against it.  

when i'd get up to feed him in the middle of the night, i'd have to exit my bed in the most ingenious fashion and take him to the nursery.  (PS - don't tell that nurse... but we fell asleep almost every time nursing in the chair, leif strewn across a boppy pillow!  heaven forbid!)  when we'd come back i'd settle him back into his pack and play and crawl... very zombie-like... back into bed... only to wake up a few hours later to do it all over again.  after his last early morning feeding, i'd stick him in between kjaer and i and we would sleepily go in and out of consciousness in awe and disbelief.  

for the most part, he only joined us around 4 or 5 in the morning.  kjaer would leave for work and i'd keep him next to me in kjaer's spot.  i just felt like he was safer that way.  

plus, i liked it.

when i went back to work leif was sleeping from about 10 at night until 5 in the morning and we were all happily following this routine.  

it.

was.

glorious.

at 5 i'd pull him into bed with me to nurse and then get ready for work.  

but then things changed.

i like to think that maybe leif just missed me after i went back to work.  he got smart and realized that if he woke up in the middle of the night, he'd get some one on one time with mom and dad... who he missed seeing during the day.  soon, he was waking up every 2-3 hours to nurse... so upon his first awakening (10 PM) we'd just pull him into bed with us.

we all got a lot more sleep this way.  

BUT... i really struggled with this.  

not because i thought it was wrong.  i think it's because American Society has been socialized to believe that a crib is the safest place for a baby.  but when i looked at all the research i learned that co sleeping actually has more positive points than just what Kjaer and I were thinking.  i loved having Leif so near to us, nursing whenever he wanted while we both slept... yet i didn't want to be judged.  plus, i didn't want my 18 year old son to be with kjaer and i in a co sleeping situation gone horribly wrong.  

so i asked around.  it seemed like if i dug around and asked the right questions, a lot of my friends would eventually admit that their kiddo slept with them.  i think they felt like i did... a little worried about what others would think.  one of my friends was more confident with her decision to let her kids co sleep... so she became my support when i'd worry that something was wrong with us for wanting Leif to sleep in bed.  

the 6 month mile marker passed and kjaer and i were no where nearer to moving Leif to his room.  in fact, he had gone from sleeping in his bassinet most of the night... to sleeping our bed most of the night. 

and both of us didn't mind one bit.  

after talking with my friend about it, and fretting a little more... she came up with an alternative for us.  something that she did, that i think will work for our little clan.  she said over our Christmas break, to choose a day where Leif would move from his pack and play for naps and bedtime to his crib.  She said that when he woke up to nurse, I could still bring him into our room and co sleep with him until morning.  but this way, he begins to learn about his bed and Kjaer and I don't have to fight with him every night when he wakes up to nurse... plus, we still get to be next to our little babe.  

January 2nd was Leif's first day.  what a champ, I tell ya!  He was a pro. 

i'm not exactly sure what made me decide that January 2nd was the day... but that fateful morning when he was milk drunk, i laid him in his crib and he took a nap.  then... he took his second nap in his crib that afternoon.  by night time we were feeling like superstars... so we kept going.  he got up at 9 to nurse.  after he was finished i half heartedly i laid him back in his crib... secretly hoping he would wake up.  

he didn't.

in his big boy bed

when i crawled into our queen sized bed and snuggled up next to my husband, he and i laid in the dark and commiserated.  we missed him terribly.  our crowded queen sized bed (2 adults, 1 nine month old, 1 dog and 1 cat) suddenly felt so vast and empty.  we waited each other out... to see who would crack first and go get him.  i thought kjaer would crack before me... but eventually we both fell asleep.

leif stayed in his bed until almost 1 in the morning!  

and to be honest, when he cried, i was secretly happy to go get him and bring him back to our room.  absence makes the heart grow fonder... though i can't imagine growing more fond of Leif than i already am...  each day proves me wrong.  my fondness grows exponentially.

so for now, it's a compromise that i think kjaer and i can live with... a little bit of both worlds until Leif is sleeping through the night again.  when that happens, we'll reach that milestone with celebration (and probably a bit of sadness).  but truth be told, there will probably be fazes of Leif's life where he joins us again, and i think we're OK with it... in spite of what others might think.

i guess the whole point of this giant story is to say that my tune has changed.  i'm learning  (-ING being the operative part of that word) that my ideas and opinions are what works for my little family... and maybe not necessarily for another family.  we are in the early stages of learning how to function as a little kirkegaard clan... and how my handsome boys and i carve out our legacy will be different than any other family's legacy.  

i hope the fruit of this realization is that i can look at the way other parents raise their kiddos with a new found respect and less judgey-judgeness... it might work for them, just not for us.  likewise, i'll stop worrying about what others think of our parenting style and focus on what kjaer and i think is best for our little brood.  because i think i'm learning to trust the instincts that God has built into us, and tell myself each day that kjaer and i are doing a fabulous job!  

little man...

Psalm 17:8 Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.

i was staring into leif's big blue eyes the other night, just sure he could see himself in mine, when i remembered a lesson from when i went to israel 6 years ago (!).  

what our teacher had taught us was that the original hebrew to english translation for "apple of your eye" was actually "little man of your eye."  at first, this seems nonsensical.  how can we be the little man of God's eye?  

however, he went on to explain, it means that God himself draws so near to us that we can see our own reflection in His eyes. 

i remember learning this lesson in Israel and getting the chills because i was so moved.  i tend to sometimes make God so big, mighty and powerful, that i forget the intimacy He has with us (if we let Him in).

but i don't think i truly understood this closeness, until those beautiful, sparkling, blue eyes were gazing dead on into mine.  leif just basks in your gaze.  holding him close while his eyes meet yours is a somewhat holy experience.  as his mother, i feel so much love and awe when i look into those endless, blue pools.  in that moment, nothing can harm him.  he is safe in my arms, trusting me with every molecule of his little being.  

while leif and i were sharing this quiet moment, i realized that if he looked, he could probably see himself in the reflection of my eyes.  he was so physically close to me that not one part of him was hidden.

and that was how the point of this simple psalm, was driven home in the depths of my heart.

it was then i finally understood how God desires to hold us close to him, when we let Him.  sometimes we can feel so small, insignificant.  but if you just give up that control and rest in His arms... you'll find yourself drawn so closely to his chest, that not one part of you will be unsean. this must be what the psalmist means when he says... my frame was not hidden from you when i was made.*

so wherever you are... nestled up in your cozy house, feeling alone and empty, or taking a break from the calamity of life...

take a breathe, sit back and relax...

for He never sleeps nor slumbers**

and He's watching over you... 

you...

the apple of His eye. 

*Psalm 139:15
**Psalm 121:3–4