Happy 5th birthday... to me?

This past week marked the 5th anniversary of my new life. As I've been deep in thought and reflecting on this, my June was just as busy (if not moreso) than I had anticipated, and blogging once a week certainly didn't happen. Sometimes though, in the case of reflection, proliferation is not nearly as valuable as depth. Contemplation done in the midst of chaos can be far more meaningful.

Back to my spiritual birthday - it was June 26th, 2008. I wrote about my experience of faith a few years ago here, as I was preparing to return to Africa. What was so monumental about that day, that I feel like that's when my life really started?

There are a few more obvious answers. For one, that is the day I met the love of my life, Evan. I'll never forget the way he walked right up to me and gave me a big hug, like we were long-lost friends. Like the gentleman he is, he immediately offered to help me take my bags upstairs to the dorm rooms for orientation. We realized we were in the same group going to Bahir Dar, and conversation took off like a rocket. When I found out he was a computer programmer, I immediately looked back to my upbringing in a house full of wonderfully nerdy brothers. I tried to name drop everything and anything I could think of that I had ever heard about computers, including a simple hang man game I programmed in middle school that I hadn't thought about in YEARS, and certainly couldn't remember one bit about how I did it. Anything to impress this guy who was already blowing me away. To say it was love at first sight is an oft-cliched line and poor representation of what love is. Love is a decision, an act of the will, that grows with time. But it really wasn't "like" at first sight either - it was at first conversation. Communication that flowed (and I'd like to think, still flows) like music, constantly growing, questioning, learning, and seeking. I was, and am, captivated by the desire to grow in relationship with him every day.

That day started a new journey for me spiritually, too. The biggest disadvantage of the cradle Catholic is complacency. Not to say that my faith had never been tested, but it was a child's faith based on rules rather than on understanding the real Truth that is behind the rules. Rules seemingly for the sake of rules, from a Church "parent," seemed sometimes like rules to be broken. I was always active in youth ministry and campus ministry, always involved in clubs and organizations, but in many ways it was for the social aspect. I sometimes felt like I was living a double life: the social Catholic, and the secular - and often very depressed - student. The journey that healed that broken part of me began with Bahir Dar. I learned about how to be open and honest with people, to stop wearing masks and constantly worry about what others would think of me or whether I had enough friends. I learned about joy, real joy, that doesn't come from things or from comforts or even from family - but only from God. And while I still struggle with depression from time to time, that was when I broke through the cloud. That was when a deeper personal relationship with God started. And I often think I started learning to be a truer version of myself - not necessarily different, but new.

It also changed the way I look at the world, at the Church, at those living in poverty, at my own life of comfort... but those are all posts in and of themselves. :)

Of course, looking back, it hasn't always been easy, and I certainly haven't been perfect. I'm still learning more every day, about how to treat others, and how God's "rules," made in perfect love, are to be lived out in the world. I'll always stumble and fall, and I know I never have to pick myself back up alone. It's a struggle, but I need to be gentle with myself for the things I don't know and fail in - after all, I am only (spiritually) 5.

(Sea) Lions and Redwoods and Knights of Columbus, Oh My!

Our relatively calm life took the backseat (pardon the pun) for about 10 days while we set out for a road-tripping adventure - and what an adventure it was!

The first lesson we had in adventuring was that road trips post-children are very different from road trips pre-children. All of the touristy attractions along the way (conveniently located at opportune times in between towns, with all of their bathrooms and diaper changing stations) make so much more sense now. Once we adjusted to the slower pace, we had a lot of fun just being the cheesy tourists we've never been before. We even drove through a Redwood! (I'd attach the picture, but it's still on Evan's phone. It pretty much looked like this though. With a car top carrier. )

Our daughter adored staying in hotels. Every night there was a new room to explore, new outlets to find, and new drawers to learn how to open! Her favorite hotel pastime was definitely playing in the pools - although breakfast buffets were also a pretty big hit. And sea lions. And once we reached our beach house, sand. Really, when you're one, everything is pretty amazing. It's an incredible gift of parenthood to be able to recapture and share in that amazement.

Eventually, after several days of adventuring through aquariums and visiting friends and stopping for the iconic Portland donut, we reached our intended goal for the journey - my family home, and the preparations for my older brother's ordination to the priesthood.

It was a beautiful, chaotic, powerful, and exhausting blur of a weekend. There was lots of hugging and catching up, scurrying around to get from event to event, and some really amazing liturgies. The ordination itself was a beautiful thing to witness - watching eight men lay down their lives for Christ, surrounded by the support of all the priests of the Archdiocese was awesome beyond words. Seeing my brother take his vows, knowing in that moment how happy, excited, and the million other emotions he must have been feeling he was, was something I'll never forget. And, of course, my little girl thought that the Knights of Columbus, with their colorful capes and shiny swords, were the coolest thing ever!

And then there was my brother's first mass. I'm so grateful that we were able to be there to share in his first celebration of the Holy Eucharist. The joy and excitement he shared with the congregation was palpable, even from way up in the choir loft! (I'm sure I'll write plenty of posts about music ministry at some point.)

Out of all of the blur, and the beautiful celebrations, and parties, and joyful events - there is one part of the weekend in particular that I will always treasure. The night before the ordination, my brother invited the family to share in his own version of a bachelor party - a holy hour in the church we all grew up in. It was getting to be late, past the baby's bedtime - but he encouraged all three of us to attend for as long as we could.

We have a chatty baby who loves to sing. There's no sugar coating her love for the acoustics of a church. And in that mostly empty church, surrounded by family, she made a joyful noise to the Lord, singing and praising as only she knows how. Knowing that my brother appreciated, welcomed, and celebrated her prayers along with his during his final night of preparation, still brings tears to my eyes. The love of children and encouragement of their participation in the Christian life is a tremendous gift he brings to the priesthood, and to all of the parents he will shepherd.

Our trip came to a restful close, and we unloaded our car back at the apartment. Everything is much the same as it was before our trip, and yet I'm amazed at the differences that happened in a week. Our little girl learned several new words, like "dog" (which I think is every four legged furry creature - not bad!) and she rushes down the hallway in excitement calling "Dad!" when Evan's keys turn in the door. She's a week older, a week wiser, and life continues to stroll along.

Teething by candlelight

People always talk about childbirth as this horrendous, awful thing. And maybe I really am suffering from that wonderful birth amnesia, but I would posit that there is something far worse than childbirth: Teething.

Obviously, I’m not experiencing physical pain. But dealing with a baby who is absolutely miserable, and you are helpless to aid, is a test of sanity and drive like no other. Particularly when the misery involves fever and an inability to sleep. Let’s just say I’m not all sweetness and roses and patience after 2 days of not sleeping. ;) In some sense, perhaps teething is helping Evan on his journey to sainthood?

It was a rough weekend, the kind where you look at each other and say “WE want kids, we WANT kids, we want KIDS!” Or at least some similar high school cheer to lift your spirits. Going back and forth between complete frustration and giggle fits from lack of sleep is a special kind of bonding experience. We were both amazed at how much closer we felt after 3 days of consistently canceled plans, no sleep, and many failed attempts to try something other than hang out in our living room. Hanging out in the Urgent care for 2 hours consoling a baby with a rather uncomfortable apparatus attached wasn’t exactly the change of pace we’d been hoping for. We both felt a newfound sense of camaraderie after the battle, though.

There was one canceled plan that had an unintended good side, however. I was supposed to sing with the choir at the 5:30pm mass, but since we still had mystery fever at that point, we decided we needed to split up and keep the baby at home. Evan went to 5:30 in my place because she decided not to nap and just wanted mommy, and thankfully, she went to bed by 8:45 and I was able to slip out to the 9pm candlelight mass.

Upon entering the church, I was immediately taken back to so many wonderful high school and college experiences of late night worship. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of my weekend, but 9pm mass felt like a 6am mass after an all night lock-in. The dark church, lit by a combination of dimmed lights and candles, was breathtaking. I picked a seat close to the front, which I haven’t done in a long time, and immersed myself into the blissful silence. My unintended candlelit date with my Lord and Savior was exactly what I didn’t realized I needed, more than anything.

Things weren’t immediately “fixed,” but I felt a similar newfound sense of camaraderie. If Jesus is for us, who can be against us, right? Even if what you’re fighting against is a tiny (and adorable) tooth viciously cutting its way through a baby's gums.

Turning in.

I’m still trying to figure out the balance between the mom I wanted to be or envisioned myself being, and actual real life.

Today was one of those days. I finally packed up my home office, and delivered everything back to my amazing employer for the past two years, the Daughters of Charity.

It all makes sense, of course! From a financial standpoint, hiring childcare in order to work didn’t make much sense. From a family goal perspective, we never wanted to hire childcare in the first place. From a mom-in-the-trenches perspective, trying to accomplish tasks that require deep concentration in time for deadlines was getting nearly impossible the moment the baby went mobile – not to mention trying to make professional phone calls with baby yelling “a-WOO a-WOOOOO!” in the background. It made both the work and the care for the baby extremely stressful – and neither were getting the proper attention as a result. Of course, I left the ultimate decision up to God in lots and lots (and LOTS) of prayer, and found real peace in the decision to move to the next stage of my life as a full-time stay at home mom.

But, all of that aside, the job was amazing. I was never career focused because of my vocational family goals, and always said I never knew what my dream job would be, but I found it when I was hired by the Daughters. My title was a mouthful: “Coordinator for Vincentian Educator Formation.” It was the most fun I’ve ever had, and probably the hardest I’ve ever worked, and definitely the most rewarded I’ve ever felt by a job – present company excluded, as I chase my baby around the room in between sentences. I got to work with the most inspiring people, who do amazing work every single day helping vulnerable and marginalized children. I got to learn more about my Catholic faith and the Vincentian Heritage and meet living saints of our lifetime. It really was the perfect culmination of my education and volunteer experience with the Vincentians and Daughters. And, for that season of my life, it was a wonderful job.

Turning in my stuff today was extremely bittersweet. I made some wonderful friends, and had the best boss anyone could ask for. But watching my baby crawl across the floor, exploring the world – only to come eagerly back to the one person she always knows, and relies on – I know I’ve made the right call.

So that brings me back to the beginning. I’m still trying to figure out the balance between fantasy stay-at-home-everything-organic-and-homemade-mom, and real stay-at-home-loves-being-an-active-part-of-so-many-things-there’s-not-enough-time-to-make-everything-from-scratch-mom, too. I firmly believe that my staying home and dedicating that zeal and enthusiasm to raising our kids is exactly where I’m called to be right now, and it’s an amazing vocation that I feel unbelievably blessed by.

Sometimes knowing all that still doesn’t make the hardest choices feel any easier. 

Distractions

You start unloading the dishwasher, when you hear the phone ring. Mid-conversation, the baby is about to pull your purse on top of herself, and you scoop her out of harms way - only to realize she now needs a diaper change. Then she's hungry, and finally you find yourself standing in the kitchen again wondering why the dishwasher is still full.

While that may be a common loop for parents, we all get distracted in other ways, too. One of my biggest distractions is reading. I can get so absorbed in a good book that I forget I'm reading, and I stop paying attention to and can even completely tune out everything going on around me. "What dishes?" "Sure, she can eat that day-old pasta on the floor." It's great on vacation, and not so great in the middle of a busy afternoon. During Lent, I tried to really control what I was reading, and it was one of the hardest (and most rewarding) Lenten sacrifices I've done. Every time I had the opportunity to read, I forced myself to do a liturgy of the hours or spiritual reading instead. It definitely felt a bit like forcing myself to eat my vegetables, but I felt much healthier afterwards.

Of course, post-Easter it was easy to let up. I have gotten absorbed into several good fiction books since then. But the experience was eye opening, and I keep coming back to it. The more spiritual reading I do, the more connected I feel to my faith. The more connected I feel, the easier it is to pray. The more I pray, the more I am able to live a life tuned to God's frequency. As much fun as the Easter season is, with its discounted chocolates and sunshine, I definitely need a little more Lent in my daily life!