Day One

Today is a milestone day. It's one I don't talk about frequently, and in the past, pretty much only with people I know well.

Five years ago today was day one.  Day one of myself really taking charge of my children and my future in big ways.

Leading up to day one was almost a year of struggles and heartache and turmoil and unknowns and the world falling apart in front of us, where I felt we were just being washed up by the tide and I was trying to stay afloat and just praying we would make it by.  With the help of some dear and trusted family and friends, we did make it by, and I found the footing underneath myself to step into day one.

Day one happened at night.  One night after work at my job of 6 weeks, I came home with the children, and made the terrifying, bold, now-or-never decision to pack us up and move from our temporary shelter in a friends apartment to the new (at the time) homeless shelter, knowing our time would have to end with her soon anyway due to a lease being up, and feeling like if I didn't act, we would run out of options quickly.

So, we went, one cold winter night.

It was a temporary solution that felt like an eternity, especially the first night, as I heard my infant daughter's crying in our cold, empty bedroom, because my two-year-old son had woke up screaming and terrified, as it echoed into the high ceilings and sounded like it would echo for eons.  We had to be up and out before the sun rose the next morning, and I had hours to waste before I had to be at work, but 90 minutes to waste before we could be let back into the doors of our temporary shelter.  The next nights weren't any better, really, and I barely slept in days.  But, we stepped out, day one, day two, and continued, one foot in front of the other, until we found a temporary apartment at the St. Francis House (which is sort of like transitional housing for the homeless) and then I had enough footing and finances to secure our permanent home, the same apartment we have been at since.

Tonight, I came home on another freezing cold night, to a warm, inviting home, where instead of hearing my baby cry echo, I hear laughter in the bedroom as the children play together happily.

We have come such a long way since that first day.

I am very proud of us for holding onto God as he helped us navigate year after year of struggle, to bring us to this fifth year, where I think we are happier and healthier in many ways than we have been since, I dare to say, before my daughter was ever born.  God is so good.

I won't continue on, I've written about this before.  If you care to read more about it, or another milestone post, you can by clicking here.

Here's an excerpt I read this evening from my journal that night.  I have to smile as I read the last sentence.  God has done just that, in more ways than one.

"Tonight, here we are. In a family room at a homeless shelter where we can’t have food or drink in our possession, our clothes had to be sanitized before we could have them, we can have no TV, and minimal personal belongings.

I know I should and shouldn’t feel both ashamed and embarrassed. I do feel both. As I walked through those doors with a few bags of clothing and a few handfuls of toys, I knew this was the bottom or very close to it. I feel betrayed by myself and my marriage and my hope and my faith.

As I laid down beside my two toddlers tonight to help them relax and fall asleep, I sang to them, and their eyes quickly closed. My tears started flowing, and I realized that my heart is still so full of love. I feel beaten, but I feel brave. I have been told for years I am strong. People admire my strength and my outlook.

Tonight, I am tested. I am at the edge of my strength and my positive outlook. But, I am going to take that leap of faith that miracles will happen and my children and I will have a home soon. I have faith that my credit can be restored. Someone will give is a chance. It won’t always be this. I won’t always be at the bottom.  I am seeking strength like never before. Strength I don’t know that I have. I am praying endlessly for miracles. God can redeem this all, and maybe if I’m so fortunate, my children will have a mended family someday too."

The last single digit birthday for my first baby

Dearest Spencer,

This is your last night being eight. Tomorrow, you’re nine. Nine is the last single digit birthday. It’s hard to believe that it has been that many years since I laid in bed, crying both tears of excitement at your scheduled arrival the next day and tears of fear and worry that I wouldn’t be a good enough mom to you. That’s right. I prayed and longed for you most of my life, but the night before you were to finally meet us, I was terrified that I would fail you.

Truthfully, that’s been my fear every day since. I hadn’t thought about it really until that night nine years ago, when it completely overwhelmed me, but it’s been in my mind at some point almost every single day since.

God has reached me multiple times, of course, and reminded me who I am, my calling, who you are, and how perfectly equipped we both are to live this life together.

He made us for one another, you know.

Photo Copyright : Seize the Day Photography & Video

I made you, inside of me.

But you, my son, made me who I am, also inside of me.

You made me a mom, and as the two of us have discussed multiple times, we have been learning what that means, every day, together.

My brave boy, thank you for your patience as I continue to learn and embrace this calling upon my life.

I know this year, again, has brought us some struggles, but I think overall, it was a pretty good year of learning who we both are. I have watched you develop a new sense of confidence and really show me that when you set your mind to something that interests you, you can do amazing things.  Watching you succeed in taekwondo, for example, is one of those things and it brings me such great joy.

I’ve been so proud as I have watched your grades excel and hearing almost all positive reports from your teacher at school. Seeing you interact with kids on the playground and school functions has shown me you’re  coming out if your shell more this year. It’s been a delight to witness.

I’ve have also seen you grow over the year in your love for babies and toddlers, who up until this point, have made you a bit uneasy. This shows me your confidence and security are growing.

I love seeing your compassion for others continuing to grow, like when you suggest we pray fir people, donate things we don’t need, or when you snuck your arm around me at the theater watching the remake of “Lion King” and tried to console me while I sniffled away watching Mufasa die, even though we all knew it was coming.

That’s not to say that we haven’t had our issues and had things we have been working through. I know we struggle with the fact that you are feeling bigger and older now, and your conversations and tone of voice are occasionally something we are at odds about. I know also that as you continue to mature, there will be more awkward and in between quirks and things we will continue to navigate. I pray we both continue to have the patience to navigate these challenging waters we have up ahead.

I try not to think about it too much, but I know that ten is right around the bend, as well as a lot of big changes for your mind and body. I pray for wisdom and understanding for us both as those days come along.

I know that you struggle with your thoughts and emotions sometimes, especially when it comes to letting people in and sharing whats on your heart and your mind.  I am so proud of you for the growth you've exhibited in this area in the last year.

I also love watching you fulfill your role as a big brother.  You often have patience with your brother who tries every ounce of it and gets on your nerves more than you would like, but who is also one of your best playmates and someone who understands you better than most anyone in this world. I am so proud of you in that when he is being bullied, you've begun to stand strong and firm for him. You are a protector and leader for your little sister who adores you like no other.  They're both blessed to have you.

Thank you, dear boy, for still letting me hug you throughout the day  and give you kisses at bedtime. Thank you for the random snuggles and cuddles that I refuse to fully acknowledge are growing more scarce.  Thank you for all the random tidbits of information you share with me, because sometimes they're things I didn't already know, and I love knowing random things.  Thank you for making me laugh.  Thank you for challenging me to follow through with things that I expect of you all, like kind voices even when we are upset.

Spencer, I pray that year nine is a year of countless blessings. I pray you hear God speak to you, to help you understand your purpose in this world.  I pray that you continue to find your passions.  I pray that you continue to develop your drive.  I pray that you find the courage and strength to embrace your emotions, your fears, and your worries, and to find the words to let others know what bothers your heart when you're in a space feeling down.  I pray that this year you laugh like no other, that you sing your heart out, and that you explore and learn so much that you feel the world open up like it never has before.  I pray that you can stand up to peer pressure and know in your heart that you have it in you to do what is right, even when it's hard.  I pray that others can see the light inside of you, the one I see and know is there.  I pray that you realize that you are leaving a brilliant mark on this world.  I pray protection over you as you go, each day, into this big world that's continuing to expand all around you.

I pray you never doubt your worth.

I pray that you always know you are loved.

Dear son, I am so grateful you're mine.

 Happy Birthday when you wake, my first baby boy.

Love always, mom.

My Ollie Bear turns Seven

My dear Collin,

Tonight, I left you with your grandma to finish out being six (and a half) years old, doing things that you love- playing with sticks, glow-sticks and sand, camping and enjoying nature. Tomorrow, I'll come back to you, and you will be seven.

You are so excited to be seven!

This past year has been a year of much growth for you, not only physically, having grown over half an inch in the last six months, but also socially and emotionally. You've begun to really get a better grasp on your emotions and have become much better at not giving in when kids are trying to get you riled up, walking away, and taking control of your actions. This summer, you joined (along with your sister) your older brother in taekwondo. It is so fun to watch your progress!

You've become an amazing reader, and you spent over 1,600 minutes reading books this summer. Your vocabulary, reading comprehension, and retention have all skyrocketed. You are full of random knowledge, but you especially love all types of science. You are so very smart!  Your laughter is like electric joy bubbling up from your belly and lighting up the air around you, whether you're being tickled, playing with friends, or telling your favorite joke about butt-quacks. It's true, you think butts are hilarious. I've learned to accept this.

This you've been working on your bravery and patience, and you've come such a long way. You make me so proud.  You have overcome a nearly paralyzing fear of bees and flies and spent so much of the summer basically carefree and enjoying the sunshine!

Lately, I've been seeing more of my influences in your life, and it makes me so excited to see how I've shaped you. You have become quite an artist, you've an amazing candid and matter-of-fact sense of humor, your compassion is still ever-growing, and as I've mentioned, you are so very smart. I love to see these attributes shining through!

I love how fiercely you love. 

As is always the case in life, the year presented it's share of challenges. We have fought together to overcome each of them, and I believe we've built a solid foundation and your trust in me never leaving you and always being for you has really solidified.  I have said it so many times- you will have me for as long as we have together. I will love you forever, no matter what.

I know that you have days you feel you are different, that you don't fit in, and on your hardest days, that people don't like you. I pray continually that these feelings subside and are replaced with the truth- that you are wonderfully and perfectly made and wholly loved. I love you so much, and although you struggle with your brother and sister sometimes, as all siblings do, they love you with their entire hearts, too. We are a family and we love unconditionally.

I tell you and your siblings each night that you're the best things that ever happened to me and that I'm so glad you are mine. That is an absolute truth that you can fall back on every day of your life. 

I also remind you daily that Jesus is always in your heart, God is always with you, and his angels always watch over you. That's another truth to stand firm on.

I am excited to see what year seven has in store for you, you bright, shining star. I know there are such wonderful things in store for you, and that God is going to bless you greatly in countless ways. I pray that as the days go by, you are strengthened in your self-image and confidence, that you find yourself rooted firmly in the truth that you are loved, that your bravery, patience, and self-control continue to blossom as we have seen them lately. I pray that you continue to find wonderful, positive friendships, and that the words you may hear from people who are unkind fall quickly from your mind and never once hurt your heart. I pray that you continue to be a light to others and that your huge, golden heart overflows daily with the love for those around you.

Ollie Bear, you are a treasure, and I am so blessed that I get to call you my own. I'll see you in the morning, buddy. We will have cake for breakfast.

Love you always, 

Mom

Photo Courtesy Seize the Day Photography and Video

There they go.

Today was a big day in our household.   Everyone woke early with all sorts of nervous, excited anticipation of what was to come- the very first day of school, where all three siblings would be in the same elementary school.  They'll continue on there for a few more years together, but this year, the oldest is a 3rd grader, the middle is a 1st grader, and the youngest started kindergarten.

I woke early and began praying over my babies before their eyes ever opened.  Last night was rough for Norah, as she laid her head on her pillow, she started crying. I asked why and she gave me a reason, but I didn't think it was the real reason, so I asked if she was nervous for school.  She shook her head yes and began crying, unleashing all of her worries and fears.  She had been putting up a brave face for a while, and it was good, although almost unbearable to walk through, the flood gates opening wide.  I prayed overnight that she would be filled with peace in the morning.

Each of my babies put on their first day of school clothing in a hurry, and sat at the table, full of giggles and smiles as I finished preparing for the day.  We then headed out front for our annual first day photos.  We had time to spare, so little miss asked if we could go to daycare and she could surprise her best friend (my coworker) before school, like we have visited her for almost every day for five years.  She was so excited to open the door and jump through and give her hugs before school started.  Then, we met up with their dad who gave them his well wishes on his way to work, and off we went to find a parking spot fairly close to the school.  We managed to be only about two blocks away.



The walk, as it was two years ago, and three years ago, was pretty quiet.  The children shuffled along in a line at first, and then two in front, and then three all together, as we neared the school.   When we were about a block away, big brother bear Spencer insisted he hold his little sister's hand the rest of the way.

We got to the playground and, as usual, it was filled with all sorts of excited and nervous energy, happy laughter, tearful smiles, and people all over the place.  Collin immediately found his class line and some friends, and we almost had to beg him for a hug each before he told us to have a good day and went off on his own.  Norah and I walked Spencer to his line and hugged him, before she transferred her hand from his to mine.  She hadn't said much yet, so I asked if she was excited and she gave a quiet "yes" while looking shocked at the amount of people around her.  Eventually, she spotted some of the kids she has spent most of her life with at daycare, and hugged them, finally excited for the day to come.

We found her line and stood together, and I asked if we could take a picture together.  She said yes, and we both smiled at the phone.  As soon as I had the photo taken, she turned to hug me, and the bell rang.  Lines started moving inside, and she began to cry.  She was scared, she was nervous, and she was afraid she would miss me all day.  She didn't know if she could do it.  I held her close and reminded her she's brave and that she would see me in a few hours.  I nearly had to peel her off of my torso, before she released enough to be just holding my hand, and I walked her as far as I could to the door.

As she went inside, I realized I was crying, too.

I cried on the way to work.  I calmed myself enough to go inside.

Then her best friend asked me if we made it through okay.  I said yes, but my voice was already crying. 

I was okay for three hours before I cried again.

The hardest part was that I couldn't just hear her voice, text her teacher upstairs to check on her, or walk there myself.  I knew I wouldn't just randomly see her in the hallway.  She was far away with a teacher I don't really know, for the first time ever.  Almost five years in the same building is a hard tradition to break.

I received a text from a friend who works at the school, saying she saw Miss Norah and she was doing amazing.   I felt so much better.

Both Spencer and Norah visited me at work briefly after school and said they had great days.  At the end of the day, Collin reported the same.  I was also told that Norah was so kind at school that there was another little girl crying at recess because she missed her mom so much, and Norah helped her to feel better.  My heart about burst.

I knew it was going to be okay.  I knew what I told myself the other night- it was time to let her go and spread her light, her love, and her joy at the school.

Tonight, as I sit here, all three sound asleep within minutes after a long and overwhelming day, and I am filled with anticipation at hearing what will come of their lives, all in the elementary school, shining their light.  I pray that they will make the world a better, brighter place.  I let them all go.    I have tears on my face as I realize the younger years are done, the baby days will never be back, and their journeys are well underway. I pray I've done well in preparing them.

I know they'll make me proud.

I know it's time...

Tonight, my slightly dramatic Momma heart is aching.  Tonight, I sit in quiet living room, my mind whirling as I prepare for bed, exhausted and tired, but not quite wanting to go to sleep.  I would like to postpone the hours of the day just a little big longer in hopes to prevent tomorrow from coming too soon.

Tomorrow is another milestone in our little family.  Tomorrow is the end of a chapter in our lives, one that's been almost five years in the making, that's somehow arrived at a close way too soon.

Tomorrow is my little girl's last day of full-time daycare before she goes off to elementary school.

It's funny to me that I'm so emotional about this.  Both of her older brothers have come and gone from the daycare rooms already.  Her oldest brother has been gone for almost as many years as she has been there.  I don't know if it's harder just because she's the youngest, or more likely, harder because she's been there longest.

Daycare has been a huge part of my life story with this beautiful girl.  

Her first day of daycare

She, the boys, and I all started daycare together on December 8, 2014.  She was 8 months old, and the other two were a toddler and a preschooler.  We ended up at our daycare by a sheer act of God, where I was able to be employed and there was room for all three of them to be there with me in the building while I worked.   It was a huge blessing in a very dark and chaotic time in our lives.  

Nearly every single day since, Norah and I have gone to daycare together.  The boys were with us too, for a while, but they both eventually left us behind, and the last two years, it was just the two of us.  My baby girl has spent the majority of her life at this daycare, with many of the same staff throughout the years, and a lot of the same children growing up alongside her.  It's been a huge constant in our lives.  It's so familiar.  She radiates joy throughout the halls, and I love bringing her with me every day to stop in and say hello to her "best friend," a momma-like figure in her life, her first daycare teacher, and my dear friend.  Every day she comes in for a hug, gets the lowdown on the lunch for the day, and bounces out the door calling out "I love you!" before we make our way to her classroom.

Tomorrow is the last day for that daily tradition (except for school breaks, which seem so far away right now).  Soon, I'll just be coming through that door all alone.  As I write this, it seems like an echoing memory that hasn't even had a chance to actually develop yet.

I've loved the security of having a job and also knowing my babies were safe within the same walls with people I've trusted and known were loving them all day.  It's been so hard to let each of the boys go.  This one just feels a little harder.  My dramatic side already worries that the halls will seem a little colder and the days a little lonelier knowing that all of my children will be down the street for most of their days from here on out.

Yet, I know it's time.

It's time to let go.

It's time to see her grow.

A few weekends ago at church, we were asked to take a moment to listen and hear what we thought God was wanting to tell us, and write it down.

The only thing I heard was, "You are raising light."

It made sense.  "We are the lights" is a lyric to one of our favorite songs (by Cade Thompson), our wi-fi network is "Be a light," and I get "light" songs stuck in my head frequently.  But this was a little different, which I didn't really grasp until tonight as I kissed them all to sleep and left the room.

Photo Credit: Seize the Day Photography and Video

I am raising light.  I have been doing the best I can to raise them to be bright, positive influences on the world, before I let them all go out on their own.  The boys have already entered the school.  Now, she will.  Now it's her turn to bring light, sunshine, joy, and love to the world outside the walls who already know her for those exact reasons.  She's ready to join her big brothers, and I pray that together, they're able to spread joy, love, laughter, kindness, and Jesus to those around them in their personalities, words, and actions.

I know it's time...

Even if I don't want to let her go.