There are many things I wish I could do better, decorating for one, but really, for the most part I'm doing a good job. (Why is that so hard to say?)
I used to do a yearly summary on this venue, but that's on the list of things I wish I did better. Sorry. Here is more list (and justification for its delay):
In the past two years or so, I've married another human, made a new human, took a big and scary promotion, fed that second human directly from my body for six drippy months, bought a scary new house, hosted a family holiday and a dear friends baby shower, did a hundred new stretchy scary things at work I've never done before, and painted all of our scary kitchen cabinets (that's a five step process, on 45 doors and drawers).
I cried an inordinate amount and doubted every single thing ever. I'm still hopelessly addicted to caffeine, still have 30 lbs of baby weight to lose. Short of quitting my job, becoming a farmer, and growing all sustenance myself, I have no idea what I'm supposed to eat, let alone feed my baby. I lost 2 of my 4 grandparents within a year, and gained a completely functional house group at church.
There are intense joys, painfully deep body-blows, and little rest for the racing brain. Here, in this place of mental and physical exhaustion, God met me in very unexpected ways. I have limped, like Jacob, through the past few years with the following mantras:
1. The baby is fine. I may be a mess leaving him at daycare, but the baby is healthy and fine.
2. I'm limited. It has to be ok.
3. Consider Eve, who had no role model, only walked with God. (I know many different people have had similar experiences, but my story and my mix of challenges seemed to be my own to muddle through.)
4. I don't know what I don't know and it has to be ok.
5. Try to take good care of Luke, because you are crazy and he deserves a parade.
6. Force yourself to sleep. You need it. Every night, eight hours a night.
7. Refuse Mommy guilt. You are a good mom, see mantra number 1.
8. Deep breaths. No really, just do it. Deep, even, slow breaths. Yes, now.
9. Don't even think about looking at Pinterest. You just aren't ready.
10. For all that is good and holy, get a cleaning lady.
11. Don't say everything you think, you aren't back to "you" yet.
I guess in disjointed summary: I am blessed, I am craving boredom and stability, but I'll settle for peace and rest in the midst of chaos.
Oh yeah, and I'm doing an okay job anyway.
