I thought it would be fun to do an ol' twist on the traditional father's day post. First of all, I love my dad. He's one of the best people I know. And of course, I'm pretty lucky to have this man as the father of my children. Now on to the good stuff.
They say you will marry someone like your dad. I certainly wasn't shopping for a husband with a master list of dad-like qualities in my back pocket. But it is seriously crazy how much Jeffree and my dad have in common.
Jeffree and my dad both measure in at 6'3". Both of them weighed about the same when they got married (around 150-155 lbs).
They are both teachers by profession. My dad taught math for 30+ years. The hubs teaches elementary school. Both are great teachers.
My dad is deaf in one ear. My husband is also deaf in one ear. True story. My dad was injured when swimming when he was younger and is now deaf in his left ear. Jeffree lost hearing in his right ear when he was about 10 or 11, due to some serious infections. He had surgery to remove the infection, and was left with about 40% hearing in that ear. I'm pretty sure it's gotten worse since then. Take note, I always sit to Jeffree's left so that he can hear me.
Both my dad and Jeffree are super funny. I seriously laugh at almost everything they say. My dad is probably the most clever, witty person I know. Jeff's not far behind him.
Their favorite candy bar is Reeces.
They both give really great hugs.
I love them both. Happy Dad's day!
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Thursday, June 6, 2013
today
Early morning snuggles. She always chooses daddy to cuddle with in the morning.
She only wears skirts these days.
Getting kisses from daddy while she helps him grind the wheat to make bread.
Working on the piles of sorted hand me downs that need to be washed before baby brother gets here. This is my family room... not my laundry room.
Sidewalk chalk before it gets to warm to play outside.
Walking around the neighborhood in order to complete one of Jeffree's school assignments.
Stopping to say hi to our favorite neighbor.
Hours later, after naps and baking bread. Waiting for a client at our photo shoot destination.
Playing frisbee with daddy while we wait.
Happy Thursday!
She only wears skirts these days.
Getting kisses from daddy while she helps him grind the wheat to make bread.
Working on the piles of sorted hand me downs that need to be washed before baby brother gets here. This is my family room... not my laundry room.
Sidewalk chalk before it gets to warm to play outside.
The six feet in our little family. With a blurry belly in the way to prove that two more feet will be joining us soon.
Walking around the neighborhood in order to complete one of Jeffree's school assignments.
Stopping to say hi to our favorite neighbor.
Hours later, after naps and baking bread. Waiting for a client at our photo shoot destination.
Playing frisbee with daddy while we wait.
Happy Thursday!
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
my story
I've written and deleted several posts about my experience with postpartum. It's not because I don't want to share, but because I don't know how to share. There is too much to say, and no way to actually say it. So here is an inadequate glimpse of my experience.
Having a newborn is a beautiful adventure, but there are so many emotions besides the joy of a precious little baby. Although I was fully aware of postpartum depression before I had little e, I could never know the difficulties ahead of me as I experienced this awful condition. It was the darkest, most exhausting period in my life. I felt anger, guilt, and despair, in addition to the physical exhaustion of a terrible recovery. It was a scary time in my life.
People told me it was normal, that all new moms feel that way. They said to give myself 6 weeks and I'd start feeling better. 6 weeks came and went and there was no relief. It was a few weeks after little e was born that I realized what I had was postpartum. I tried to survive the hours when Jeffree was gone. When he got home, more often than not, I would be weeping. I would give him the baby, crawl in bed and sob. He said to me one day that he didn't think I liked being a mom. That only made me cry more. But the thing was, he was partly correct, I didn't always like being a mom. I always loved my baby, but there were days when I didn't want to be a mom. There were days when I just didn't think I could do it. There were days when I just didn't want to do it. I was so tired, so depressed, so overwhelmed. It lasted for months.
Little e was probably about 4 weeks old and Jeffree and I took her to a little farmer's market. I saw a friend who was pregnant and I told her, "Being a mom is the harder than anything you've ever done. It's so much harder than anyone tells you." She looked at me with that pregnancy glow and said, "But it's worth it, right?" I told her, "Sometimes it's not." She looked at me like I was the worst person in the world. But I held my ground. When your child is screaming and there's nothing you can do, when you're beyond a functioning level of exhaustion, you are not thinking, "Wow! This is hard but totally worth it!" You are wondering how you will ever survive. You are wondering when it's going to get better, like everyone keeps telling you. You are wondering why anyone would ever have another child, knowing that this is what they have to go through.
I was open and honest with my friends and family. I knew my friends were worried about me and I appreciate the sacrifices they made to come spend time with me or let me hang out at there house or get me out on a walk.
Looking back, I would say that my severe postpartum lasted until little e was about 4-5 months old. I started actually enjoying being a mom when she was 6 months old. I need to clarify that I always loved my beautiful girl. There were times of awe and wonder and joy throughout the entire experience. There were moments when all I could do was look at how cute and sweet she was and just love her. But loving her didn't make it easy to take care of her or me or function like a normal person.
I love sweet little e so much. I would do anything for her, and yes, it was all worth it. I love being her mom and there really is no greater joy. I sincerely love hanging out with her all day. I love her kisses and her squeeze hugs. I love singing songs and doing puzzles and playing with "lagos." I love it when she talks about Jesus and how much she loves Him.
If there is one thing I gained from experiencing what I did, it is a greater love and appreciation for my Savior, Jesus Christ. He suffered everything I did, just so He could comfort me. He loves each of us that much. I am forever grateful to Him for His sacrifice and His love. I am also grateful for my loving Heavenly Father, for His plan of happiness, and for my eternal family.
I am looking forward to holding our sweet baby boy in my arms. I know it won't be easy. But I also know that providing him with a physical body is one of the most important things I can do on this earth. Even when I don't have the energy for anything else, I will love him and little e with all my heart.
Having a newborn is a beautiful adventure, but there are so many emotions besides the joy of a precious little baby. Although I was fully aware of postpartum depression before I had little e, I could never know the difficulties ahead of me as I experienced this awful condition. It was the darkest, most exhausting period in my life. I felt anger, guilt, and despair, in addition to the physical exhaustion of a terrible recovery. It was a scary time in my life.
People told me it was normal, that all new moms feel that way. They said to give myself 6 weeks and I'd start feeling better. 6 weeks came and went and there was no relief. It was a few weeks after little e was born that I realized what I had was postpartum. I tried to survive the hours when Jeffree was gone. When he got home, more often than not, I would be weeping. I would give him the baby, crawl in bed and sob. He said to me one day that he didn't think I liked being a mom. That only made me cry more. But the thing was, he was partly correct, I didn't always like being a mom. I always loved my baby, but there were days when I didn't want to be a mom. There were days when I just didn't think I could do it. There were days when I just didn't want to do it. I was so tired, so depressed, so overwhelmed. It lasted for months.
Little e was probably about 4 weeks old and Jeffree and I took her to a little farmer's market. I saw a friend who was pregnant and I told her, "Being a mom is the harder than anything you've ever done. It's so much harder than anyone tells you." She looked at me with that pregnancy glow and said, "But it's worth it, right?" I told her, "Sometimes it's not." She looked at me like I was the worst person in the world. But I held my ground. When your child is screaming and there's nothing you can do, when you're beyond a functioning level of exhaustion, you are not thinking, "Wow! This is hard but totally worth it!" You are wondering how you will ever survive. You are wondering when it's going to get better, like everyone keeps telling you. You are wondering why anyone would ever have another child, knowing that this is what they have to go through.
I was open and honest with my friends and family. I knew my friends were worried about me and I appreciate the sacrifices they made to come spend time with me or let me hang out at there house or get me out on a walk.
Looking back, I would say that my severe postpartum lasted until little e was about 4-5 months old. I started actually enjoying being a mom when she was 6 months old. I need to clarify that I always loved my beautiful girl. There were times of awe and wonder and joy throughout the entire experience. There were moments when all I could do was look at how cute and sweet she was and just love her. But loving her didn't make it easy to take care of her or me or function like a normal person.
I love sweet little e so much. I would do anything for her, and yes, it was all worth it. I love being her mom and there really is no greater joy. I sincerely love hanging out with her all day. I love her kisses and her squeeze hugs. I love singing songs and doing puzzles and playing with "lagos." I love it when she talks about Jesus and how much she loves Him.
If there is one thing I gained from experiencing what I did, it is a greater love and appreciation for my Savior, Jesus Christ. He suffered everything I did, just so He could comfort me. He loves each of us that much. I am forever grateful to Him for His sacrifice and His love. I am also grateful for my loving Heavenly Father, for His plan of happiness, and for my eternal family.
I am looking forward to holding our sweet baby boy in my arms. I know it won't be easy. But I also know that providing him with a physical body is one of the most important things I can do on this earth. Even when I don't have the energy for anything else, I will love him and little e with all my heart.
Monday, June 3, 2013
a great and noble task
I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish humble tasks as though they were great and noble. The world is moved along, not only by the mighty shoves of its heroes, but also by the aggregate of the tiny pushes of each honest worker.
-Helen Keller
And so, I am off to do laundry. Perhaps someday this humble task will produce in me or in the world something great and noble. But for now, at least I'll have something to wear.
-Helen Keller
And so, I am off to do laundry. Perhaps someday this humble task will produce in me or in the world something great and noble. But for now, at least I'll have something to wear.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)