Mommin' Ain't Easy

In my 28 years on this earth, never have I learned more about myself than in the past 18 months. My daughter, Emerson just turned 18 months old {young} recently, and it has made me reflect on my time as a mom thus far. If you've followed me for any decent amount of time, you probably are familiar with the concept that mommy-dom was not {and still sometimes isn't} my thing. Motherhood has never been "easy" for me. Some moms just love every moment of motherhood and all that it encompasses. For me though, I still have days where motherhood just isn't all I thought it would be. I still have a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that Emerson will be my daughter and require my supervision {in one way or another} for the rest of her life.

You know that song that says "Hello Mr. Brightside"? Yeah, that's not me. See, I can readily admit that I don't always look on the bright side, or find the joy in certain moments. I'm not even sure I'm a glass half-full type of person, as I like to pretend that I am. I like to try to be positive, but I'd be lying if I said that I am a "positive person" all the time. Some folks just have a sunny disposition, and while I do think that I have a sunny personality, I don't always know how to tap into it, especially when the going gets tough.

Motherhood for me has been joy and pain, tears and laughter, anxiety and peace. It's been days or months of  immense weakness followed by weeks of great strength. I can't explain it, but motherhood has changed me, as I'm sure it's changed you as well. I have learned more about myself in the past 18 months through the mere fact that "mommin' ain't easy", but it's life changing. Maybe you can identify with some of my most life-changing revelations over the past 18 months.

1. Before Emerson I lived life for ME. After Emerson, my needs came second to hers and suddenly "ME" wasn't so important, or so I thought. I have learned over the past 18 months that while she, of course, is my priority, I must put myself first. If mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. As cliché as it is, I very much mean it. For a long time, I did not put my needs and wants as a priority and my mental + physical health suffered because of it. I did not take care of myself, and I did not take time to be ME, Chelsea, the one that existed before Emerson. Now that I've learned the importance of that, I know what a difference it can make long-term. Mama's, if you hear nothing else I say today, hear this: Take care of YOU! Even if that means a 5 minute shower in the middle of the day or a Coke Zero at the grocery store just because you feel like having one. If it is going to make you feel like a better mama + woman, do it. You deserve it one thousand times over. I deprived myself of personal happiness for far too long and it was my greatest mistake thus far in this motherhood journey {through I'm sure something will come along to top it eventually}.

2. Before Emerson I did not need much help from other people, aside from the Lord. I was {and still very much am} a very self-sufficient woman. I am confident and I am not easily swayed. I stand firm in my beliefs and I don't need others to feel secure with myself. After Emerson, I continued to not ask for help, and you know where that got me? Overwhelmed and exhausted. It made me question my every move, especially related to child-rearing. I googled WAY to much and I didn't trust myself anymore. So, another very valuable lesson that I have finally started to learn just recently is that {as wonderful as they are} parenting books, the internet, Siri, my mom or even husband, NO ONE can tell me how I have to mother. That is an innate part of me that God created + He knew what he was doing.  I AM her mother and the Lord has equipped me with everything I need to care for her. I have learned that He will not give me anything more than I can handle, even when it feels like I'm at my breaking point.

3. Before Emerson, I never really felt the need to compare myself to other people. Sure, I dealt with typical female insecurities from time to time, but overall I wouldn't say that was a major struggle for me. After Emerson, not only did I compare myself to others physically, but I compared my mothering to others. After having Emerson, I was very quick to judge other moms based on their parenting style.  Yikes, that's kind of hard to admit to you guys. I would never outwardly judge someone, but in my heart I knew it was happening. After Emerson, I compared my lifestyle to other people's lifestyles. I compared my husband to other husbands with kids. I compared my baby to other babies. I pretty much was playing the comparison game like it was my job. I have learned, mostly just recently, that comparison truly is the thief of joy. It comes to steal and devour, and oh, how it has done that to me numerous times. I honestly believe that it deprived me of some of the most precious moments in my adult life. I have been preaching to myself daily the importance of contentment and gratitude for what we have and how great we have it. Sure, I struggle with all kinds of things, but in reality, most of those are so trivial when looking at the big picture. I strive now to check myself when I find my mind wandering to all of the "if only's". I quite literally have to check myself before I wreck myself when it comes to this.

Before Emerson I took for granted the time that we're given in this life, thinking that my time here is infinite. Except, it's not. After Emerson, every day, no matter how terrific, or mundane or frustrating is a gift from God. I, my friends, am a gigantic work in progress and I believe I have Emerson to thank for that. Because of her life, I am learning to appreciate the days when nothing goes right. I am learning to laugh when things don't happen as planned. {As a control freak, that last one is VERY hard for me}. I am learning to appreciate my journey in motherhood instead of comparing it to everyone else's. It's so easy to compare, like I mentioned above, but I am learning to trust that mama knows best, and heck, sometimes daddy might know a thing or two as well. I am learning that in order to be a good mother, I also need to be a good wife. I am learning that even when I dislike my role of "mom" for a moment, it is the greatest blessing I've ever received. God chose me to be her mom and I will never be able to thank him enough for using her life to forever change mine. He never said mommin' would be easy, but He did promise it would be worth it.

Can you relate? XO!

Mom Guilt: For the Days of Doubt

Oh, the infamous "mom guilt". You know exactly what I'm referring to. It's the times you say to yourself, "Did I seriously just do that?" or "I'm the worst mom ever". If you're a mom, you've been there. You've thought to yourself how much better you COULD BE than what you ARE.

Let's quash that mindset. You ARE better. Give yourself credit. Allow me to put it into perspective using a recent personal anecdote.

It was 7:15pm, 15 minutes away from bedtime and already I was "behind schedule", which meant Emerson would probably start getting overtired and cranky any minute. "Grrrreat, I can't wait to listen to her cry + refuse to go to bed", I thought to myself multiple times. *mom guilt*.  I gave her a late dinner that night because I was too tired to get anything together at the time when we normally eat. *mom guilt* I finally fed her frozen chicken nuggets {probably the processed kind that's against all mommy rules}, and some peas I found in the fridge that had been previously reheated about 5 times, so they resembled raisins more than actual peas. *mom guilt* I let her eat a yogurt by herself because I didn't feel like feeding it to her. *mom guilt* The result: YOGURT EVERYWHERE. When she began waving her hands + repeating furiously "All done!", I stripped her clothes off right there while she was still strapped into her highchair. The battle of the clothing was not going to be fought this night. I just wasn't in the mood. *mom guilt* YES, bath time, which meant it was finally almost bedtime. Thank God, bedtime was drawing nigh; the possibility of sitting down + not playing ring around the rosey for the 85th time was in sight. *mom guilt* She was playing independently in the tub with her doll and her balls . {Okay, that came out wrong. Let's just not even go there. They're round fabric objects that are made for the tub.} I was sitting right beside her scrolling through Instagram, not playing with her. *mom guilt* That's when it happened, "PLOP". Yes, she had pooped IN THE TUB. What made it worse was that I didn't realize it right away, so my precious girl was playing in the tub with a turd {or four} floating around. *major mom guilt because that's disgusting* After leaving her butt naked on the bathroom floor while I attempted to clean the poop-infested waters, I realized she was covered in goosebumps, because after all it is winter. *mom guilt* By this point, it was well past 7:30, Emerson's usual bedtime. I went to pull out her fleece pajamas only to find that I never actually washed them as I had intended to do that day. *mom guilt* We improvised and were rounding third base on the way to home plate (bedtime!), when I realized I had no whole milk left to give her in her nighttime sippy cup, all because I neglected the grocery store on purpose that day. *mom guilt* I did manage to read her favorite book + find all 3 of her baby dolls. I rarely let her sleep with them because all she does is play, but that night, the mom guilt was weighing down hard on my shoulders. She slept with all 3 baby dolls, one of which was filled with water from being in the poop-infested bath water earlier in the evening. *mom guilt, again* It was now 8:15pm and finally, she was asleep. I pulled her door shut + made a beeline for the couch. I plopped down, practically belly flopped really. I was DONE. My job for the day was finished. *mom guilt- how could I think that about caring for my own child?*

You see, all of that took place over the span of about TWO hours. And how many times did I feel guilty about something that I had done during that time span? If you kept track while reading, you'll know it was 13!! Thirteen times that I, MOM, felt guilty for something that I'd done {or not done}. Why are we so hard on ourselves as moms?

Here's something I've been preaching to myself for many months now. It's OKAY to not be a perfect mom. In fact, there's no such thing in existence today. Even the most put together, well-to-do, Insta-perfect moms are not actually perfect. We ALL feel less than worthy of this title of "mom" at times. I think it's part of the territory. Part of the beauty of being a mother are the times that you fail, but you pick yourself back up and try again anyway. It's the times when life punches you in the throat and you punch it right back. You know what, my daughter eats pureed pouches in order to get veggies most days + she eats frozen chicken nuggets + her fair share of boxed 'processed' snacks. I know some of you are judging me right now without even realizing it, which is okay. Because honestly, so many times I feel guilty for my lack of concern about her well-being in the nutrition department, but that's just it. I shouldn't feel guilty because even though I may not give her the best of the best all the time {in my defense, her pouches are organic!}, you know what I do give her? I sit with her daily + give her cuddles, just mommy + Emmie cuddles.  I talk to her during every meal {fiiiine, most meals}. I get on the floor and play with her multiple times throughout the day. I listen to her ramblings and I teach her numbers, and words, and animal sounds. I pretend to put her baby dolls to sleep approximately 348 times per day. I pick her up when she stands at my feet and says "mama, up-uppy". I attempt to comfort her even when I haven't a clue what's bothering her. I get up with her in the middle of the night when she's frightened, or teething, or just wants to be with me. I may not have all of my ish together when it comes to this mommy thing, but I am her biggest advocate, and she is my absolute biggest fan!

That's what we have to remember moms: Our kids love + root for us NO MATTER how many times we fail each day. Just as we love them despite their tantrums and diaperless poop escapades {or maybe that's just me}, they love us. Despite our lack of energy, 3-day-old hair, and yes, even when we raise our voices, they love us. Your kids won't punish you because you didn't give them enough of yourself. Ehh, that might be a little white lie. But, my point is, on those days of doubt, don't let your shortcomings in the "mom" department make you feel like you are failing your children. You are their MOTHER. You are better than anyone else at that role. Un-wad your panties and OWN IT, GIRL.

Soft + Cuddly: What Dreams Are Made Of

Hedgehogs remind me of porcupines, even though apparently {according to the gods of Wikipedia} they are quite different. They are prickly and they have the ability to roll into a tight ball as a defense mechanism. Sounds a lot like my toddler daughter first thing in the morning. HA! Seriously though, I will never ever own a hedgehog, I can promise you that. Well that's unless of course you're talking about the soft, cuddly type like the one we got below. Don't believe me? Take a look.

Did you think I went near an actual hedgehog, let alone BROUGHT ONE INTO MY HOME? If you're new here and you trusted me that much, then I'm flattered, but didn't your mother teach you not to trust a stranger? In all seriousness though, I did get ahold of some hedgehogs in the form of a blanket. It's quite possibly the softest, most adorable blanket we own. I have the one pictured above, along with this one pictured below. Both are feminine without being overly "girly". They are perfect for Emerson and she LOVES them, especially the ones with animals {her current obsession}. Today, I want to convince you to not only start loving these blankets as much as we do, but I'm hoping to help you WIN a fantastic prize for either yourself or a friend. Don't stop here, keep reading to find out more!

These precious blankets are a creation of Swaddle Designs, which is a stylish boutique-quality shop known for their great quality products and their long lasting value that moms and babies love and can enjoy for years. I am OBSESSED with their adorably soft + cuddly muslin swaddle blankets! Not only are they of tremendous quality, but they are quite large, making them great for swaddlers and non-swaddlers alike. As a new mom, I hated having to re-swaddle Emerson fifteen times because the blanket would come untucked just as I was putting on the finishing touches. Even worse than that though, was the Houdini-like nature of my child in the middle of the night as she escaped her swaddle. With these Swaddle Design blankets, that's NOT an issue. They are larger than standard size swaddle blankets making them perfect for little Houdini babies like mine. Also, each blanket includes a SwaddleClub and 123 Swaddle label sewn right into the blanket, making learning how to swaddle a breeze. Take it from me, that little label is a helpful tool when it's 2am, you're sleep deprived, and you can't quite remember how to wrap that baby up like a burrito. It sure beats having to Youtube a video on "How to easily swaddle your newborn" in the dead of night with a fussy baby. Their easy 123 instructions make swaddling easy even for the newest of mommies and daddies!

So easy, even a toddler can do it! ;)

What's especially appealing to me as a mother and a consumer is great quality + functionality at a great price. We all know that I not only love a bargain, but I love when something, especially baby gear, is mutli-functional. Babies aren't cheap, and neither are their accessories, but I can honestly say that these blankets are worth every single penny. Plus, they stack up very nicely with surrounding swaddling blanket competition. {Trust me, I did my research.} They have a variety of prints and colors, but I'm especially drawn to the black and white designs, as that's more uncommon in the baby world {in my opinion}. I decorate our home with a lot of black and white, so I love that Emerson's baby "accessories" tie in with that. You can check out all of the designs and colors using the information I've included at the end of this post. Trust me, you will want to take a look!

The blankets, as I mentioned, are high-quality cotton muslin, so they're lightweight and soft on baby's delicate skin. Emerson, bless her soul, has very sensitive skin like her mama, so the lightweight cotton material is my go to material for her all of her blankets. She is 18 months old {tomorrow!} and she sleeps with her muslin swaddle blanket at every nap + every night, along with her furry friend {"May Bear"} + one of her favorite books.

I can't imagine NOT having these blankets. I was gifted tons of receiving blankets and crocheted blankets as baby shower gifts, and while I love them all, none compare to the muslin blankets that she sleeps with every day and night. Not only do these Swaddle Designs blankets get softer with every single wash, but they are such great quality, that they hold up to even the toughest of toddlers! We can't leave home without one and you shouldn't have to either! 

Lucky for you, you don't have to any longer! In honor of Emerson making it halfway to two years of age + Swaddle Designs being the amazing shop that they are, I will be hosting a G I V E A W A Y on Instagram starting tomorrow, February 26th through Sunday, February 28th. It will run from 8:00 am EST Friday {tomorrow} through 8:00am EST on Sunday. The winner of the giveaway will win not one, but TWO Swaddle Designs muslin swaddling blankets from their black and white collection. Be sure to go look at the designs on their website because if you win, you get to choose which two you would like to own! Be sure to follow me on Instagram @alittlethriftychic in order to participate in the giveaway, and please spread the word to any mommy friends that you think would enjoy this great prize. The giveaway is super simple to enter and their are NO OTHER HOSTS, just me! Make sure to enter before 8am EST on Sunday! The winner will be announced Sunday night on Instagram. Good luck and be sure to check out + follow Swaddle Designs at their website, on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. All information + links are posted below. You can also sign up for e-mail updates to hear about new arrivals and get the inside scoop for special offers and promo codes to score you some great deals off of regularly priced items! Now that's speaking my language!

* Visit www.SwaddleDesigns.com and choose your favorite product. They have tons to choose from!

* Follow @SwaddleDesigns on Twitter and tweet about your favorite @SwaddleDesigns print or product

*Follow @SwaddleDesigns on Instagram

* Like Swaddle Designs on Facebook + post your favorite print or product. {P.S. Facebook fans get the inside scoop, previews of new collections and fan discounts.}

* Pin your favorite product on Pinterest 

 Go NOW! Don't delay! See you on Instagram tomorrow for this awesome giveaway! XO!

Stop and Smell the Weeds

I schedule when I'm going to blog now. Not because I'm sooooo busy that I can't keep up otherwise, but because I have more opportunities being thrown on my plate with my blog and with Instagram, so I have found it helpful to write out when everything is happening, and schedule specific days to blog so that I don't get caught up in everything else and leave you guys hanging. My typical blogging days are Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. Last week, I posted Wednesday night because I had somewhere to be on Thursday and was afraid I'd run out of time {hi, my name's Chelsea, I have a toddler + I'm always running late}. I was actually planning to do the same this week because I have to take Emerson to the doctor this morning + thought I'd be too short on time. Well, yesterday was quite possibly one of my longest parenting days to date and I was in bed by 9pm last night because I had the worst toddler hangover {what I call a headache after a particularly long day with my girl} + my muscles were literally aching from the gym earlier in the day. I was just too tired to use my brain to form any coherent type of post on here. So, here we are. It's Thursday morning and I'm the only one awake, for now. I've got coffee in hand, notes I jotted down yesterday for this post, and about 10 more minutes until Emerson starts stirring, so let's get to it.

Yesterday started well, I woke up early, ate a good breakfast + drank my coffee while it was hot. I had planned to go to the gym, so I was all ready once Emerson woke up. I got her dressed + loaded her in the car. I didn't have time to give her breakfast, so she snacked on a the handful, or two, of {most likely} stale strawberry-apple puffs + goldfish crackers that I found beneath the butt pad in her carseat. Don't judge me, she was happy as a clam because she loves her "poooooooofs". So she ate a good hearty breakfast on the way to moms {kidding, my mom actually fed her real food} and I made it to the gym "on time". I worked out hard, probably too hard because I'm paying for it at this  moment. My shoulders are screaming at me. I picked Emerson up from my moms, took her home, fed her lunch + played for a bit, then began the battle. The all out battle of the fittest, quite literally. Every time I tried to lay her down for a nap yesterday {I tired for an hour + a half} she would scream and fight + squirm and yell "dooooooowwwwnnn". So, after I'd exhausted 99% of my tricks, I resorted to loading her in the car in hopes of her snagging even a little catnap {anyone knows that a non-napping kid during the day makes for a CRANKY kid come evening}. This is where I had to make light of the situation to keep from crying myself. It had been the longest hour and a half of my life up to this point. I just wanted her to sleep. Just SLEEP, kid.

The car nap gods were on my side, and she fell asleep about 30 minutes into our drive. So, I drove the back country roads for almost 2 hours yesterday afternoon. Luckily, I was smart enough to make myself a big cup of coffee + a snack {carrots + hummus of all things} for the ride. I don't know why I thought carrots + hummus were the best options because carrots are the loudest snack on the planet when you have a sleeping kid 3 feet from you. Oh well, you live and you learn.

During my drive yesterday, I noticed some things that actually made me laugh, a lot. I thought I would share some of my observations from driving WAY back in the country. Here's my list of 10 ways to know you're in the deep country:

1. You see more houses with Christmas decoration still up in mid-February than you do in your own neighborhood during the actual holidays.

2. You drive down roads that you never even knew existed even though you've lived here for 28 years.

3. You're pretty sure you have found the next 8 houses for the show "Hoarders".

4. There are fields of cotton.

5. All of the houses have tractors parked in the driveway or in the surrounding area.

6. Cotton. Cotton. Cotton. {I REALLY wanted to stop + get some for decor purposes, but was afraid to stop for fear of waking the beast}.

7. You pass the same house 5 times all by turning down a different "back road".

8. In the middle of trailers and itty bitty houses, you see this house {complete with PALM TREES}. That sky was on point though!

And there you have it, 8 things I learned yesterday while driving in the "deep country". I actually had to stop and laugh at one point because even though it kind of sucked driving around in the late afternoon{hello snoozefest}, I actually enjoyed the peace + quiet and the beauty of the Earth {if you didn't notice, check out the sky in the picture above}. I never knew some areas of our "city" existed until yesterday. So even though yesterday was another long day for Emerson and I {probably more for me than her}, God reminded me yet again, that even though the days can be long, these years are fleeting.  I need to quite literally STOP and smell the flowers {or more realistically, the weeds that my daughter picked for me while we played at the park}.

Let me encourage you, as I preach this to myself, that even on the long, arduous days, try to remember to stop and smell the flowers {even if they look like weeds}, whether literally like me, or figuratively. Sometimes that's all it takes to turn the day around. Have a wonderful Thursday, friends! You're almost to Friday; hang in there!

The Days Are Long, But The Years Are Short

There's a popular saying out there related to raising children that goes something like this,"Enjoy them now, for the days may be long, but the years are certainly short." 

I've never really understood that though because for a while the long days were just that, VERY long freaking days. I couldn't picture the "years" because I was consumed with the every days. It's no surprise to my readers when I tell you that I was depressed as a mom for a while, especially in the beginning. If I'm being completely honest with you, I still go through bouts of depression in this role of "mom". This is in no way me saying that I dislike being a mother or that there aren't a million joys for all of the negatives. And, of course, it has nothing to do with my actual daughter or the actual fact that I'm a mother. What a blessing they both are, truly {especially in a day and age where miscarriage + infertility are so common}. I'm referring more to the moments of motherhood that leave me in the trenches of loneliness, boredom, confusion, self-pity. Do you relate to that? Have you ever felt any of those things after a particularly hard day, week, or month? I know it probably seems like my posts tend to revolve around the hardships of motherhood as opposed to the joys, but the thing is, I can share my joys all day long, but what really needs to be discussed are the difficult parts of motherhood. The parts that no one likes to talk about for fear of being seen as ungrateful, fear of rejection, fear of humiliation, fear of "being the only one". I'm here to break down those barriers because they exist and they shouldn't evoke fear. I love sharing in the joys of motherhood, because it most definitely brings more joy than one could possibly imagine, but my heart is to share how even when it's really great, it's also REALLY DANG HARD at the exact same time, and it's okay to talk about it. And talk about it often without regret.

You see, up until recently, I had a hard time picturing what life would be like 2, 3, 5, let alone 10+ years from now. I often forget that Emerson will only be this little for a very short while, despite it feeling like an eternity sometimes. I wish away the time to get me to a "better" place with her. She's my pride and my joy, and the love I have for her is unlike a love I've ever experienced. But, that doesn't mean that I'm devoid of human emotion; emotion that often leads me to wonder what life would be like for ME if she were just a little older, a little more independent, a little more this or that.

This is all coming to the surface now more than ever because Emerson has been on a sleeping strike for over a week now. As any mother {or father} knows, this can lead to some very long days and nights. It can make you feel overwhelmed, under-appreciated, and physically + emotionally drained. Spending an ENTIRE day {with the exception of the 45 minutes that she decides she actually wants to sleep} with a whiny, needy, non-stop toddler is EXHAUSTING on all accounts. I tend to get frustrated and very overwhelmed when days like this occur because, as an introvert who needs time to recharge BY MYSELF, I don't get that when she refuses to sleep.

Which leads me to my next point. Yesterday, Valentines Day, I was in a pretty rotten mood for a variety of reasons {PMS being none of them, by the way}. To top if off, Emerson only slept 45 minutes the entire day {normally she sleeps 2-3 hours} which meant that I didn't get to accomplish much on my list of things to do, one of which included spending time with my husband by ourselves. I think this was intentional on God's part. I have a really hard time balancing my time, not because I'm disorganized, quite the opposite actually, but because I always feel like I {me, me, me} deserve more "alone time" than I do. I get frustrated and overwhelmed when "my time" becomes "Emerson's time". I'm selfish like that, I am fully aware.

This morning I woke up refreshed. It's amazing what acts of service {hubs went grocery shopping, made dinner for me, and cleaned up the kitchen}, a hot shower, and a good night of sleep can do for a mama. The past week has been tough for me, but God reminded me just this morning of why I need not fret about the lack of "me time" because He cares for me and provides opportunities for me to be refreshed. Here's how he reminded me of this; perhaps you've had small moments like this too:

Emerson woke up in a good mood this morning for the first time in over a week. Over the monitor, I heard her playing gleefully in her crib instead of crying. After going in to get her, she very happily said "hi mama, hi mama, hi mama". At breakfast, Emerson asked if we could "pwwwwayah" {pray}. This is something new that we've been trying to teach her at meal time. It was absolutely beyond precious.Then after breakfast, she played independently for like 15 whole minutes. If you know anything about my child, you know that she is NOT independent when it comes to playing. She always wants a playmate {aka me or daddy-usually me because daddy works}, which is going to be addressed in another blog post in the near future {NO! I'm not pregnant}. While watching her play, I was working on this post, and she came to me with 2 books in her hand, and said "buuuuk" {book}. Normally, I may have told her to hold on, or made her wait a little bit until I was done with my post, but for some reason, I just dropped what I was doing, picked her up and we read a couple of books together. In that moment, I was reminded that even though the days have been really, really long this week, she is growing up faster than I can comprehend and she wants ME, her mama to spend time with her. I swear just yesterday I was fretting over the fact that I thought she would never crawl. Now, she's running around like a maniac, having "conversations" with herself and others, saying multiple new words a day, and just acting SO much older in general. I find myself thinking way too frequently now, 'Where did my baby go?' 

"Pwwaaay"ing

I know that she's only a year and a half and this is just the beginning. Time is going to fly by even faster with each new year, of this I'm fully aware. I am learning that even though the days are longer than I would prefer most days right now, the years will be getting shorter and shorter, and before I know it they'll be gone. So, even though it often takes every ounce of me, I'm trying to learn to relinquish my control + my selfishness in order to cherish these tough moments, which will be what get me through the even tougher moments in the future after she's no longer my little baby and she tries to make me think that she doesn't need me. I know that these will be the best days and years of my life, so I'm vowing to myself to make these long days part of the short years that lie ahead.

The Final Countdown

 Just when I think I've got this parenting thing DOWN, my daughter, without fail, springs something on me that makes me question my entire mommy-hood. Today happened to be one of those days. If you've been following me for any decent amount of time, you know by now that I am very schedule and routine oriented.V E R Y. I don't like being thrown off of the usual routine because I'm a control freak. There, now it's out in the open for the forty-thousandth time.

Usually, it starts with a crappy nap or a very early waking, and then will spiral downhill from there. Today started out as any normal day. Trey woke up early for work {inevitably waking me as well} and I got up shortly after he left {about 7}, and managed to squint my way through my bright IG feed a time or two, you know in case I missed anything that was potentially life or death. I barely made it out of bed when I heard a faint "maaaaaaaaaa" followed by "up, up, up, up, BUB-EE" {baby}. So I won't lie, I still went into the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, just in super speed. You see I don't rush into get Emerson first thing in the morning. Her time to get up is 7:30am, per my rule. As long as she's not screaming like a banshee, she stays in her crib until I go in to get her. HELP ME JESUS when she learns to crawl out of her crib. Anyway, what I was able to accomplish this morning, well that's usually just the first little portion of MY morning routine. Normally {you see where this is going}, I wake up, scroll Instagram, pee, make coffee, and make a short list of goals for the day. Today, I skipped the "pee" and went straight to coffee because time was of the essence. I drank about 4 good sips before Emerson started yelling at me. No, literally, she yells from her crib. Not cries, 

y e l l s. She's no dummy. It's really freaking adorable most mornings.

Not this morning. 

This morning I was really exhausted from staying up too late watching Making a Murderer {GAH! dying over here} with Trey. I didn't get to finish my coffee while it was hot, which is incredibly frustrating to me and makes me feel underprepared for the day. The microwave and I are besties on mornings like today. Much to my surprise, Emerson was in a fantastic mood all morning. I even got in a quick gym session and she *WILLINGLY* went into the Kid's Club to play. Like, did not even look back to say 'bye' to me. This is a whole other story for another time. 

Fast forward >>

Nap time is usually between 12:30-1pm and naps have been averaging 2.5-3 hours here lately. I was not so fortunate today because you know I didn't have a lot I wanted to accomplish during that time or anything. She woke up about 1.5 hrs into her nap screaming. Like she went from conked to scream-central in 2 seconds flat. I could not comfort her. Like for the entire rest of the day. She was cranky, whiny, snotty, and apparently very hungry because she ate almost an entire sleeve of graham crackers by herself in one sitting. #Momoftheyear

Needless to say, by approximately 5pm, I was spent. She was showing no signs of relenting to her utter exhaustion and I, in turn, was becoming more and more exhausted. I don't know if I'm alone in this or not, but I would much rather have a day of complete chaos from running a trillion errands with a content child, than a day of complete chaos from doing next to nothing and having a discontent child. It is SO draining mentally, physically, and emotionally. I'm not going to lie to you, I loaded her in the car, turned on her favorite little "tw-ain" cartoon on the iPad and we drove the back country roads for ONE HOUR. I listened to jazz music the entire time. I'm turning into my parents.

After an hour of driving around, I was famished. Driving is exhausting {tack that on to that a pounding headache + an already exhausting afternoon}. I hit up Panera on the way home for a *salad*, thank you. Once home, Emmie continued to act like I have never once fed her in her life and insisted on eating all of the chicken out of my salad. Thanks, kid, I didn't want that or anything. 

FINALLY, it was 6:30. CLOSE ENOUGH to her usual 7:30p bedtime. I ran her bath, plopped her in there {while I reclined on the closed toilet. I know, classy}. She begged me to put on a little puppet show with her finger puppets. By begged, I mean she grunted at me, while holding up her finger puppets, while repeating "dis dis dis dis". I couldn't NOT get down there with her, so I gave into playing and singing a one hit wonder, titled  "We are friends". It goes like this, "We are friends {while pretending to make all the puppets hold hands and dance}, yes we are. We are friends who love Emmie {then they all lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek}". Don't ask, it's a new song every night and she loves it.

Okay, bath was over + butt was diaper creamed {she pees like a machine at night}, fleece jammies were on, and hair was combed. Oh, and fingernails were cut {after much wrestling and many tears + probably a scratch somewhere on my extremities}. All that was left between freedom and myself, was a goodnight story and some kisses. Except, tonight no book was sufficient. We ended up reading the same book 3 times by default. {I know exactly where baby's belly button is in case anyone hasn't read that story.} I turned out the light, sang her her "night night song", and kissed her little lips. "Night night Emmie. I love you", I said. "I wooo yewwwwwww, mama", she said.

Suddenly the countdown to that very moment seemed silly. It was a meaningless countdown because I certainly need time for myself, especially after a long and trying day like today. But, that one little phrase, "I woo yewwwww mama", it put everything into perspective. So even though today SUCKED, majorly and severely, I was reminded in that brief moment that tomorrow is a new day and that God will never give me more than I can handle.

So, when you feel like it's the final countdown and you let out that sign of relief after you close your little one's door, just know that even if it was the crappiest of crappy days, tomorrow is bound to be different. Maybe it won't be great, but it will be different and for me, that's a relief. 

Cheers to you mamas {and daddy's}! Underneath those leggings and that graham cracker, snot + God knows what else-stained shirt, you're one of a kind to that little love bug that calls you "mama". Rest in that.  Oh, and pour yourself some wine {Jesus drank it, He understands!}

XO,

Keep On

This paraphrased verse popped up on my Instagram feed today. How timely it is. As a new-ish mom, and blogger, I have a lot on my mind most days. I have so much I want to say to the world, so much I want to share from a place of complete vulnerability. But I'm often afraid. What am I afraid of? Rejection. Judgement. Envy. If it's a human emotion, I've probably been afraid of it at some point. Even though the response to my blog and my IG feed have been nothing but positive thus far, I am human and I have fears, just like you. My fears within the blogging community are not as legitimate as my fears as a mother, so today I want to shed some light on my fears as a mom. I don't want to be afraid to speak about it. I don't want to be silent about it. I want to keep on speaking about it because in speaking about it comes freedom. Freedom to be who I am. Freedom to say what's on my heart and in my mind. Freedom to let others in to my little portion of the world. Freedom to let others feel that they aren't alone and in return, help me to realize that I'm not alone. With freedom comes life.

My journey into motherhood started roughly 2.5 years ago. {I included pregnancy in that estimate because I became a mother from the moment Emerson was created in my womb, in my opinion}. Pregnancy, for me, was nothing short of amazing. I honestly cannot complain about anything. The only real trouble I ran into, which really doesn't even seem like trouble compared to so many others out there, was that I had Placenta Previa, meaning the baby's placenta partially or totally covers the opening in the mothers cervix, which can cause severe bleeding and often requires cesarean delivery, without option of vaginal delivery. Thankfully, mine healed itself at 38 weeks. Aside from the very normal exhaustion and food aversions {coffee for me- I know, it was sad!}, I was healthy, active, and enjoyed being pregnant very much {well up until I went beyond my due date-ha!}. I had a quick + relatively easy delivery, especially for it being my first baby. Everything was going according to plan, just how I like life...to follow a plan, a schedule, a routine. Thankfully, in the end, God knows me better than I know myself.

The first week with Emerson, overall, was great. I was exhausted and sore, but I loved being a new mom. Then, reality set in. Milk came in {ow}, nursing started going haywire, I didn't know when or how to pump, I wasn't sleeping much, Emerson cried a lot, Trey worked all the time, everything was supposed to be able to be answered with Google {B I G mistake}. When I couldn't figure something out with the baby, I felt like a failure. I wasn't teaching full-time anymore which had brought great routine to my life, so I now felt lazy for wanting to do nothing when the baby did sleep. I was losing my mind. Depression set it fairly early on without me really recognizing it. I was miserable. I withdrew from my friends. I withdrew from my husband. I withdrew from my baby. I had a horrible self-consciousness about my body, which made me extremely uncomfortable because I've never really struggled with that before. My life as I'd known it to that point was completely over. I often regretted the choice to expand our family because I felt like life was over for me. My only role now was 'mom" and I didn't like it one bit. There was no "Chelsea" left, or so I thought.

After several months of MANY, MANY tears and inward struggles, I hit a point where I knew that if I didn't start living life at least a little bit for ME again, it would be over. I think what really did it for me was having a conversation with my husband where he told me that I had turned so negative. He said that I didn't look at life like I used to and I didn't follow through with things like I once did. That was like a dagger to the heart. I did NOT like being told that I didn't follow through on stuff, because well, that just isn't me at all. Also, to be frank, he pissed me off and set a fire under my butt {maybe that was his ultimate goal? haha}. At first, I just wanted to prove him wrong + prove to myself that I still WAS ME, so I took a job {which I referenced in a recent post} and it gave me some motivation. It got me out of the house and away from the baby for a little while a couple times a week, which {new moms} helps clear your head and it really does bring you some sanity. Over time, it ignited passion in me again. I began blogging again, too. On my blog, I began sharing more and more of my struggles, especially as they related to motherhood. I began receiving feedback from others who shared with me that they had fought so many of the same battles. Finally, I felt like I wasn't alone anymore. I felt like my negativity {which was definitely a large breeding ground for resentment + anger for a while} was taking an upward turn. I blogged on and off as an outlet for a while, mostly doing it whenever I felt the urge. Then, I just decided that enough was enough. The only person that could change the direction of my attitude, and ultimately my life was me {with Jesus' help, of course}. I read this quote recently which really hit home, "The very best thing you can do for the world is to make the most of yourself."

I made the choice to pursue blogging more intentionally. I decided to work on house projects, read, work outside, exercise {*shocking*}, etc during free time instead of laying around watching tv or cleaning obsessively. {I clean when I have nothing else to do, it's a blessing and a curse}. The more down time I have, the less productive I feel, though I am trying to learn the art of "resting" without it feeling like pure laziness.

Just a couple of months ago I made the decision to say YES more. Yes to more play dates with Emerson. Yes to opportunities with my blog. Yes to home projects I've been wanting to tackle. Yes to showing love to my husband more. Yes to going to the gym regularly. Yes to playing with Emerson more without distractions {mostly my phone or the tv}. Yes to pursing some opportunities that allow me to use my creative side, while also reaching the "teacher" in me. Saying 'YES' has been freeing for me. It's not easy for me to always say YES because even though I have no problem talking to strangers {or writing to them}, I like being alone. I like solitude and quiet. I don't NEED other people all the time to thrive. Me + God are working on getting me outside of my comfort zone on that one.  Anyway, ultimately I've been working on not being afraid. Saying yes, though often very frightening for me, has changed my attitude dramatically. I am not the same person {as a mother, wife, or individual} that I was even 6 months ago. God is using all of the difficult times throughout the past year to change me and mold me, and ultimately, I think use me. As I mentioned recently, I don't know why I've been burdened {in a good way} with this blog suddenly, but I have and I know God is at work. I have been more excited the past month about MY life and the direction it's heading than I have been in a long time. I'm just so excited that God is using my fears to bring me to a new place. A place where I have the freedom to not be silent. The freedom to not be afraid anymore, and the freedom to keep on speaking. It's giving me life and I'm so, so, so excited about it.

P.S. I am so honored and privileged {and still kind of shocked} that I was asked to be featured today on another blogger's website {Devon Brown}as part one of a series she's doing called "Mommy Bloggers". She's featuring some amazing women, aside from herself, who also happen to be great moms. You can see the post I linked on Instagram or you can click here to check out the feature, which shares how and why I got started in the blogging community. Again, thank you all for your continued support + encouragement!!

P.S.S. I've added a new board on Pinterest called "A Little Thrifty Chic" that links directly to photos, articles, and tutorials on this blog. Would love it if all of you Pinterest lovers you would go follow it to help spread the word! Thanks!

A Letter to Our Daughter

Dear Emerson Grace,

This letter comes on the eve of your FIRST birthday. Where has the time gone? It's been a whirlwind of a year with so many joys and challenges. We didn't know quite what we were getting ourselves into when those two lines showed up on the pregnancy test that day in December. We had so much fun watching you grow inside of Mom's belly while you kicked + squirmed (and hiccuped a lot). We got nervous and excited that night you decided you were ready to enter the world. You came on a Tuesday, at 4:38 in the morning. You were nice enough to let Mommy catch up on her Monday night television and you even waited to start your shenanigans until she finished her bowl of Mint Chocolate Chip ice-cream (Daddy is rolling his eyes at this moment). Mommy says "THANK YOU" for that, as it was her last time eating ice-cream for quite a while. You started telling your Mom that you were ready to come out around 9:45pm. You didn't waste any time and by 11pm, Mommy + Daddy were racing to the hospital because your Mommy was in a lot of pain. By 3:00am, you were very ready to be in our arms. You came into our lives with a head full of hair and chubby little cheeks (those are still our favorite feature). We were amazed that we had created such an adorable human being. You were (and still are) the most beautiful baby we'd ever seen! The first few nights with you were exhausting and overwhelming. We weren't sure of a lot of things, but we knew right away that we loved you more than we'd ever loved anyone or anything. You were our miracle.

This year, you have shown us love in the simplest of ways. I (Mom) am starting to cry writing this portion because I just can't believe how quickly a year has passed. I regret not cherishing more moments with you because now they're just a memory. Thankfully, your Daddy and I have taken tons of pictures of you to help us remember special moments of your first year. As I was getting you  ready for bed tonight, I did something I don't normally do; I rocked you. You laid your head on my chest and I just kissed you over and over. I could feel time just slipping away. You are growing so fast and every day presents new opportunities to experience your growth. You are so funny and your smile is just absolutely contagious. You light up when you see your Daddy and you crawl so fast to get to me these days. You love playing Peek-a-boo with Daddy's hat and you are extremely ticklish on your feet and sides, but really only when Daddy tickles you. You hardly cuddle up to us anymore, but when you do, the whole world stops. You don't like being left alone, and you would stay in my arms all day if I'd let you (or if I was strong enough). You are determined, strong-willed, and not afraid to ask for help (especially when you want to do something that scares you). You know sign-language and you are trying to say so many new words. Every day, it's something new and that's so exciting for us. This stage is SO fun and you are exploding in your development. It is awesome to just sit back and watch you play. But, even better than that is how wonderful it is to just watch you sleep. We don't often watch you close-up because you are a very light sleeper and seem to just be able to feel our presence, but we often just like to stare at you sleeping on the monitor as your roll around like a maniac in your crib. You sleep like your mama, girl! We love going through all the pictures we took each day after you've gone to bed. It helps us feel close to you, even though you're right in the room across the hall. We relive moments from the day by talking about the various ways you brought us joy. We sometimes cry because we can't believe how proud we are to be your Mom and Dad. You bring us more love and more joy than we'd ever imagined possible!

A few minutes after you were born.

The last picture we took before you went to bed on the night before you turned 1 year old. 

We will never be able to tell you enough just how much we adore you. You are OUR WORLD. We are honored to be your parents and we will do anything for you for as long as we live. We pray for your salvation and we hope to live out Jesus to you. You are our precious, precious miracle and we have loved getting to know you this year, as hard as it has been, you have changed our lives and we are eternally thankful for you! Happy Birthday, sweet girl. We love you so very much!

                Love Always,
                         Mommy + Daddy
                         August 25, 2015

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

In the beginning it was hard, R E A L L Y hard. It was so hard in fact that I almost gave up about 2 months in. Then, it got easier and easier and easier, until one day it was like magic. Everything leveled out and it was a beautiful experience. I'm referring to breastfeeding. I have been breastfeeding Emerson for exactly 357 days. I am 8 days shy of one whole year. I say that not to boast in any way, but I NEVER thought I'd make it to this point. 

In my life, I've had some pretty great experiences. Like the 3 week backpacking tour I took across Europe with my high school senior class, or the missions trips I took to Peru and Africa throughout my years in high school and/or college. I got a car for my 16th birthday- that was pretty awesome! I met my husband at my best friend's wedding, and then went on to marry him two years later, of all things. Now, my wedding day, that was a spectacular day! It might be my favorite day of all time. It's tied for first with the day of Emerson's birth. Both days will forever be engrained in my memory. 

I will never forget the night I went into labor. Heck, I remember that like it was yesterday. I will never forget the look on Trey's face when he caught a glimpse of her for the very first time. I will never forget holding her immediately after she was born and hearing her cry for the first time. I was shaking, even my voice shook. I couldn't believe that on my chest was my CHILD. Then, there was the first time I ever fed my daughter from my body. It was awkward, at first, then it was amazing. How it was possible that I could produce enough milk to nourish my newborn baby was BEYOND me. It is like NOTHING else I've ever experienced. It was great for the first 2-3 days. Sure, I was sore, but overall I really had a good first experience with breastfeeding.

We came home from the hospital with this little baby girl and suddenly I was responsible for making sure that she was well-fed, and frequently, I might add. Talk about responsibility! My milk came in a day or so after we got home and that's when it started. The immense pain and engorgement was barely tolerable. I had so. much. milk and it hurt! I was ready to quit after just one week. I knew I wanted to breastfeed because it's "what's best for the baby", but amidst sleep deprivation, healing from delivery, AND extremely painful nursing sessions, I was exhausted and the first thing I was ready to give up was nursing. Trey begged me to keep going and to press forward, not in a condescending or mean-spirited way, but he ENCOURAGED me to keep going. He reassured me that in due time it would be well worth it, and that it would soon become a special time for Emerson and I. 

I'm so glad for his encouragement and that I chose to press onward. It's now almost exactly 12 months later, and I can say that every ounce of pain in the beginning was worth it. Every pumping session and middle of the night feed was worth it. Emerson has been weaning herself from nursing for the past few weeks. It's really, really sad for me. I have been holding back tears every night for a week. It has always been our nightly routine for me to nurse her, sing to her and then lay her down for the night. Starting a few nights ago, she would try to nurse, but would get frustrated and begin crying. I would try my best to comfort her, but I couldn't give her what she wanted..."milkies" (as I've called it). That night was probably one of the saddest nights I've had since her birth. It physically hurt my spirit that I couldn't nurse her that night. She just laid in my arms trying and sucking with all her might, but to no avail. I eventually had to give her a sippy cup with milk to calm her. I could no longer sustain her.

My mama heart ached that night. Since then, she has been doing similarly each night...trying and trying, but ultimately resorting to her sippy cup. I know the time is near; the time to stop this ritual that we've created. It has been time VERY well spent. I will never, ever in a million years regret my decision to breastfeed. Some of my sweetest memories with Emerson have happened in the rocking chair in her room where I nurse her. 

Holding onto mommy while nursing

As we slowly say good-bye to this phase of our mother-daughter relationship, I will always treasure the memories made with her during our nursing sessions together. From 10-12 sessions a day, down to just 1 now. I'm holding on to our last morning session as long as she'll have me. I will always remember how she stroked her head as she nursed to soothe herself. I will never forget how she would lovingly stare at me with those beautiful hazel eyes. I will cherish the times she dozed to sleep in my arms after nursing. I will relish the memories of just rocking her while she ate in the wee hours of the morning when all the world was still. I vow to keep the memories of our time together alive, just the two of us,  as long as I live because even though it was the worst of times to begin with, it has ended as the best of times.

You are my Sunshine

You are my sunshine// my only sunshine// you make me happy when skies are gray// you'll never know dear// how much I love you// please don't take my sunshine away.

Lyrics to a very popular children's song (or perhaps it's even considered a lullaby). Either way, a very beautiful rendition of it came on iTunes radio this morning. I was sitting at Emerson's little table playing with puzzles with her when it began playing quietly in the background. As I watched her play, I instinctively began singing along (because it's a song her daddy + I have sung to her since before she was born). Without even realizing it, I was tearing up. As I sat there watching her play, I was in awe of how much she's grown over the past (almost) year. I am amazed by her. My days are often long and tiring, there's no denying that, but moments like this one make everything worthwhile and are a reminder from God, I'm convinced, of why I quit my job to be home with our daughter. 

I know many a friend who so badly wish to stay home with their babies rather than work. While I often envy those that get to go to work everyday and have adult interaction for 6-8 hours a day, I also wish that they sometimes could experience what I do every day too. {This is not to say that someday I won't return to work, but as it stands currently, this is the direction I'm choosing.} Not just for the selfish reason of having them see just how taxing staying home with a child all day actually is (it's a job in and of itself, trust me), but because I wish they could watch their babies like I get to watch Emerson. By watch, I mean it in the literal sense, as in "stare" or "take in". I don't always play with her or interact with her. Though she is definitely attached to my hip more often than not, there are occasional times each day where I like to just watch her play or stare into space or roll around or talk to herself or discover new things. There is no greater joy as a mother than just watching your little babe develop and discover new things.

Just now as I type this, Emerson is sitting at my feet playing with some blocks. She is very content. She occasionally reaches and tugs on my pant leg  + looks up at me with those beautiful hazel eyes. I just smile because she's so pretty. She continues playing with her blocks and books, then randomly stands against the recliner where I'm sitting and gazes at me, then her little arms extend up anxiously hoping I'll reach down and gather her up in my arms, which I do, of course. She sits there with me for no more than a minute or two and we sing and dance to the song playing, then she begs to get down to continue playing. I LOVE THAT! The need for a cuddle, or a smile, or a gentle embrace. THAT is what makes being here day after day worth it. If she were elsewhere, I would have much more time to "be an adult", yes, but I wouldn't get to experience all those little moments that occur simply because I AM here. I love her cuddles and the little glances that she shoots me when I least expect them.

Emerson will be one in two weeks. Y'all, I cannot wrap my brain around that. I swear she was just the size of a little poppyseed in my belly. Her daddy and I were just starting to fantasize about what she would look like: the color of her eyes, the shape of her little hands and feet, about whether or not she would have any hair, and we certainly liked to dream about those chubby cheeks. Now, here she is almost a year later crawling and standing and talking and dancing and trying to sing (be still my heart). She has the most gorgeous features and that curly hair is killing me. She can pierce me with a single tear and her smile, it's to die for. I am tearing up right this second thinking about everything we've experienced together during her first year of life. It's been a rollercoaster of emotions. It's been hard on me, the marriage between her daddy and I, and honestly on my life in general, but amidst all of the difficulties, it's been so very, very worth it. She is truly a piece of my heart walking (almost) around outside of my body. She is growing everyday and it hits me a little more each day that she's becoming an actual little person with feelings, and a very fierce personality. She is becoming more and more independent, and selfishly that makes me sad. Everyday, though she is still VERY attached to me, she needs me just a little tiny bit less. 

I am so thankful for the lessons that she's taught me and how the Lord has used her life to forever change and better mine. I have learned new things about myself (both good and bad) and about my husband through this experience of motherhood. I am so excited to see what the future holds and I pray to God that He never takes my sunshine away from me while I'm on this Earth. I just love her too much. Though, I know that somehow He loves her even more. She will always be our sunshine.

My Best Friend

According to Urban Dictionary, "Best friends are very special people in your life. they are the first people you think about when you make plans. They are the first people you go to when you need someone to talk to. You will phone them up just to talk about nothing, or the most important things in your life. When you're sad they will try their hardest to cheer you up. They give the best hugs in the world. They are a shoulder to cry on, because you know that they truly care about you. In most cases, they would take a bullet for you, because it would be too painful to watch you get hurt."

Yesterday was (apparently) National Best Friend Day, or as I affectionately call it "Besties Forevvvvvva Day". I don't really call it that, it's just more fun to say type. In all honesty, I didn't even know that was a day until someone told me. Friend fail, on my part. While I have many friends, only a few earn the title of "best" friend. It's hard to pinpoint ONE best friend, and honestly, who wants to do that? I used to get jealous if someone referred to me and someone else as their "best friend". I think I was weird last week back in middle school. Anyway, as I was saying, I have a couple of friends that I consider to be "best" friends. I'm not going to mention any names, well, except for one.

Emerson.

That's right. My daughter. She's my best friend right now. I say 'right now' because she'll have others that come along to take the place of her "bestie", but for now, the title is mine, ALL mine.  Sure, Trey ranks pretty high up there in terms of being 'my best friend', obviously, along with a few others, but Emerson is unique. She knows me like no one else, quite literally. She is the only one (so far) that has heard my heartbeat from the inner parts of me. She is the only one that has recognized me without having ever seen me. She knows the rhythms of my heartbeat and the sounds of me within. She is the only one that is truly and completely a part of me. None of my other "best friends" can claim that.

Usually, best friends spend a lot of time together, unless they live far apart. They tend to be inseparable when they're together. They look out for one another and they defend each other. They thrive off of one another. Usually, much like a marriage partner, they bring different qualities to the table; qualities that offset each other, yet enhance the relationship. Emerson and I have that. Odd to say, maybe, and you're probably thinking, 'But, Chelsea, she's just a baby'. You are correct, she is just a baby, but she's also SO much more than that. 

Emerson and I have spent every -single- day together since the moment she was born (really since conception, if you want to get technical). I have not left her for more than several hours (I'm working on it--part of that is a completely other story that I'll write about another time).  I don't remember what it's like to be without her.  Yes, some days are long and boring and hard and frustrating, but even in the most mundane moments, she brings me immense joy. Joy like no other friend of mine can provide. One smile can cure an hour of frustration. One little giggle can erase an entire day of tension and tears. I know every detail of her little body. The way her hair curls in one spot on the left side of her head. Or the way her nose wrinkles every time she gets frustrated. I know she loves God's creation, even though she doesn't quite know Him yet.  I adore the way she peeks around the corner when she heres my voice or how she screeches with joy when we tickle this one certain spot.  She listens to me when I'm sad (mostly because she has no choice); sometimes we even cry together-- that happened a lot when she was itty bitty. She laughs with me (or at me). She holds me tight, seemingly never wanting to let me go. She seems to know when a cuddle will make everything alright, if even for just a moment. I stare at pictures of her after she goes to bed at night, even though I have spent the whole day with her. Her life makes mine very worthwhile. Her presence on this Earth has made mine so much more valuable. She will never know the tremendous joy and pain I felt when she first came into my life, both physically and emotionally. And she will never know the heartache I feel when I imagine my life without her. She is my pride and joy, and for now, she is my very best friend.

For the Unappreciated Mom (or Wife)

I read an article this morning that really struck me. Probably because it resonated with EVERYTHING I have felt throughout the last 9 months of my life. Before you continue reading, I encourage you to click here to read the article that I will be referencing throughout this entire post. I  will be pulling excerpts from it, so you'll understand even if you choose not to read the article, but it was THAT good, that I recommend you do indeed read it.

For anyone that is questioning my post title today, it is with good reason. You may have thought, "Chelsea is feeling unappreciated?" or "Oh, I totally need to read this because I AM an unappreciated mom". I would venture to say that both of those are true actually, but the post is titled as it is because the article I reference today is titled "A Screwtape Letter for the Unappreciated Mom".  If you're unfamiliar with the book The Screwtape Letters, then this article may be a little odd to you. I borrowed the following explanation about the book from an online source (here). The Screwtape Letters are written in the form of letters. The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis is an amusing and insightful correspondence between a senior devil, Screwtape, and his incompetent nephew, Wormwood, a "young fiend." All of the letters are from Screwtape to Wormwood, and the subject of the correspondence is a human being, newly converted to Christianity, whom Screwtape refers to as "the patient." Throughout the correspondence, Screwtape tries to help Wormwood tempt the patient away from Heaven and into Hell. He encourages his nephew's successes, suggests various and devious ways to enter the man's thoughts and influence him. 

The article referenced today is a letter written similar to those in Lewis' book. It is written from Screwtape to his nephew, Wormwood and it's all about how "a tired Mom makes for a more emotional Mom, and an emotional Mom is a vulnerable one", hence able to be easily swayed in her thoughts and actions. 

In the letter, Screwtape addresses the marriage. "First, aim your best efforts at her marriage.

As you know, we cannot do much with a unified marriage.  Luckily for us, a cranky and exhausted wife can do wonders to change that.  We must convince her that her husband is no longer the friend and ally she first married.  Instead, we must reveal every sin and selfish habit, especially drawing attention to his thoughtless actions (mal-intended or not) against her." How true this is, my friends! I have been guilty of this very thought pattern. I have been beyond exhausted, and "cranky" is putting it nicely. I have been way too good at pinpointing my husbands every flaw and calling him out on it. I have learned this is not effective, but ohhh it's a very real way that Satan hunts me down and snakes his way in.

Secondly, do what you can to keep her focused on her troubles and pains.  Remind her how much her back aches, how draining the children were all day, and how many undone tasks still beckon her.  Do not let her wonder what difficulties her husband faced that day or whether his back might also be aching.  Valuing others above oneself is one of those silly, though strangely effective, tactics of the Enemy.Along those lines, be sure the Mother starts to value productivity above everything else.  Have her wake up early and work non-stop until bedtime. Convince her that as long as there is a shred of work to be done (and there always is), no one should be resting.  Then, as she folds and sweeps and he sits, you can introduce the sweet bitterness of resentment. This may come as no surprise, but I'm especially guilty of this. I am ALWAYS feeling the need to DO something. I get so (inwardly, but sometimes outwardly too) annoyed when Trey gets to just sit and I have to clean this, or fold that, or pick up those things. I fail to realize that he works near every day of the week for 12-24 hrs. at a time. Granted, I do too, but it's different. I'm with our daughter all the time, while he's not. He's missing out on quite a bit and I know he would change that if he could. I do not give him the credit he deserves. He works not one, but TWO jobs so that I can stay home with her. He works ungodly hours so that we don't have to put our daughter in daycare 40+ hours a week (nothing against those that have to do that). He can be selfish, but I would argue that he's much more selfLESS than I most times. He and I have discussed my resentment towards him on numerous occasions. It seems from reading the article that 9 times out of 10, I bring the resentment on myself. Funny, how that works.

Remember, the love of a husband can be dangerous to our cause.  If he senses her unhappiness, he may begin to help or (even worse) show her affection. True story from just the other night. Trey had worked a 12 hour shift at the hospital and it had been a fairly easy day for me at home with Emerson. After she went to bed around 7, I made dinner for us (ashamedly, something that has not been a common phenomenon lately). He was to get off at 8. Dinner was ready before he got home, so I ate and I had it all ready for him to eat as soon as he walked through the door. It was a new recipe and I was so excited for him to try it, let alone see that I had actually made dinner. He got home around 9p and I presented him with his dinner after he sat down. His first words, "Ew, is this red pepper?" Strike 1.  Followed by, "And babe, why did you put mango in this?" Strike 2.  "I don't like any of this stuff." Strike 3.  My quick, non-thought out response (now highly annoyed because I'd just spent the past hour making dinner for him only to have him nit pick it before even trying it), "Just eat the damn food, Trey." Ouch, probably not the best choice of words on my part. This made him highly agitated and he took his bowl and went in the other room. That was our night. The silence was present for a while, but eventually it just kind of passed and we moved on, after, of course, I voiced why that had upset me and unprompted he cleaned the entire kitchen and sink full of dirty dishes. This just goes to show that actions speak far louder than words.

Now, onto the children.  Lovely little opportunities for us, the children, especially the little ones. We must convince her that the obnoxious little people she has charge of are not really worth her sacrifice.  When the Mother first dreamed of having children, she probably imagined large, innocent eyes and chubby, happy grins taking up the majority of her days.  Do your best to shatter those expectations. Instead, draw attention to how much they take from her.  Let them take and take and take…  And need and need and need, until the Mother feels totally spent... Do your best to make the day-to-day monotony of diaper changes, meals, and baths seem simultaneously overwhelming and beneath her.  Let her think of all the better, more important things she could be doing with her life, if only she didn’t have the children. Like a knife, this cut me...deep. I have been guilty of feeling like everything I do for Emerson is (somehow) beneath me. That I, an educated woman, am stuck here tending to poopy diapers and playing on the floor day in and day out. I could be doing so much more, like shopping or creating DIY projects, or teaching little minds. You know, important stuff! How can caring for my "obnoxious little person" compare to all of that. OH, how the Lord has been changing my heart. I have just recently realized the value of my presence in her life. She needs me more than I can possibly imagine. She relies on me for everything...literally. I am her sustainer at the present moment. I am teaching her to become a valuable part of God's creation. I am responsible for her well-being as long as she's present on this Earth and there is NOTHING that could possibly compare to that. NOTHING.

Finally, the letter ends with Screwtape writing to Wormwood about how he needs to be sure to make her look to her husband for worth and affirmation.  Then, when he lets her down (as he is sure to do), she will be ours to torment.  This is hard. I can't tell you how many times daily I look to my husband to fulfill some need, want, or desire. It is not his responsibility (though he does play a significant part) to insure that I am fulfilled as a child of Christ. I still find it difficult to rely solely on Christ for fulfillment. Trey will never be able to give me the desires of my heart. He may make a dent in some of them, but he doesn't even know half of them. Only Christ does and only He can fill the depths of my soul where my deepest yearnings dwell. 

Are you convicted yet? I surely was. I hope that you took (or will take) the time to read the linked article as it is far more convicting than my post here. I just hope that some of you can resonate with these points and that they cause you to reevaluate some areas of your life, as they have for me. 

Until next time...
                                    

I took word for word excerpts from the linked article above and give full credit to the author of the article for the valid points made within. I take no credit for anything written in italic print above.