The grass is always greener

"When do I get to go to daycare?" asked Lily.
It was the eve of the first day of kindergarten and the topic of conversation had been about all the exciting things she could anticipate the next day.
"What do you mean daycare? You're going to kindergarten." I was truly perplexed by this question.
"But I want to go to daycare. Where your mommy and daddy go to work all day and you get to take naps at daycare and stay all day," she explained, with a serious look of anticipation waiting for any facial expression of mine that would reveal an answer.
After thinking for awhile about my answer I replied, "Sweetie, you're never going to go to daycare. You're so fortunate to have a mommy who can stay home and be with you every afternoon." I said it as sweetly as possible, thinking that surely she would see how lucky of a little girl she is to have such an awesome mom to hang with everyday.
"But, I want to go to the daycare..." trailing off in a full lip-quiver while real tears began to well up in her five year old eyes.
I gave her a look and changed the subject and the conversation ended there. Kindergarten was a success and no tears from anyone, even Mommy.

But that conversation played over and over in my head the past few days. And it evoked lots of emotion in me. I was a little ticked actually. How ungrateful, I thought! Doesn't she know how big of a deal it for me to be at home? You see, I just officially became a stay-at-home a few weeks ago after a very slow exit from the working mom world.
For the past 10 years I've worked for Barnes & Noble and although retail can have it's fair share of stressful moments (i.e. Black Friday, Christmastime, every time a new return policy was enforced..) I really enjoyed my time there. The people I worked with are awesome. They came to my wedding, threw me baby showers, and helped me with my schedule when I became sick. They really have become like family to me.
In the year after my daughter was born she did attend daycare while I worked as a manager full-time. I had such issues with the quality of care she was receiving that it caused a flare up. One day I walked in to pick her up and I felt her diaper was so soaking wet that it had soaked through her clothes. When I asked the daycare employee about it she said. "Oh, we're out of wipes." What?? The only thing the daycare provided besides some questionable care (a few of the women were wonderful, don't get me wrong) was baby wipes. And they ran out? Send someone to the store! Don't leave my daughter sitting on the floor with urine soaked clothes! I left the room and told the director we were done.
My flare up got worse and I ended up having to take some more time off work. When I returned to work part time (not as a manager anymore) my mom watched her for the time I worked which was such a blessing. It gave them some quality time and afforded us the savings in childcare so we could withstand the huge pay cut I had just received. After I had my son I went back to work even more part time. I worked one night a week anticipating that there would be a day when I could logistically work more hours again. This past spring I tried to work a little more and it was pretty much terrible for our family dynamic. I would only see my husband in passing as he got home from work and I would throw him the reigns as I headed out to the store. Some nights we even met at the store and I had to hand them off. It got crazy and it wasn't working anymore. So I told my manager I needed to take the summer off and that I would be back in the fall when the kids start school.
But as the start of school approached my husband and I both knew that we couldn't go back to being two ships passing in the night. The truth is, I have a full-time job. Yes, I'm a mediocre maid, a chauffeur who can't park (or backup) worth a lick, a chef with good intentions, a boxing referee, a short-tempered teacher, and a play date coordinator. And now I can officially say I am a stay-at-home MOM! 
For so long I have been toeing that line and keeping one foot at my job and one foot at home and not fully being available to either. No matter which side I stood on the other side always looked like the better option. When I worked I longed to be at home and playing with my kids and watching their milestones. When I was at home I looked forward to the nights I worked so I could have adult conversations without having to keep one eye on my kids. The grass on the other side was always greener and maybe a bit better maintained, too. So we decided I needed to stay home for this season. And it was certainly the right decision. But right away I began day dreaming about my new steps, my next season. My imagination trailing to what 'could be'.

On Thursday, with both my children at school, I was blessed with some quiet time on the beach beginning a new book, The Resolution for Women, by Priscilla Shirer. In the first chapter I was hit like a ton of bricks when she discussed how she hadn't been fully engaged in her life and how she wanted to change for the upcoming year.

"Only for the coming year would my husband be exactly like this. Only for these fleeting moments would my children talk, look and act exactly like this. And if I chose to hurry through them in an attempt to avoid the parts I didn't like, I'd simultaneously miss all the things I did like about this season." 

Wow. So powerful. That's what I was doing! After I finished the chapter I closed the book and looked up to see an elderly woman probably around 70. She was walking down the beach at the surf's edge with a cane, clutching her hip as if it was bothering her. Her right hip. The same hip that bothers me. Tears started to stream down my face. As I watched her slowly make her way down the beach God reminded me of how fleeting this life is. James 4:14 popped in my head: 

Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. 

Tomorrow I may be that older woman clutching my hip, slowly making my way down the beach, and laughing at how much of a hurry I was in when I was 33. Wishing I had slowed down and enjoyed the season for all it held. 

Given my life the past few years I shouldn't be the least bit surprised that my daughter is standing on one side of the fence and looking over at the other side thinking how green and well-groomed their grass may be. 

For this season I am making a commitment to be fully present and engaged and have a grateful heart. Those are all traits I want for my children, but I have to truly model it first. 

Did you know that?

As I explained in my last post, after my recent autoimmune flare-up I knew that I could no longer continue to gloss over my disease to my daughter. She saw her mommy in pain, in tears, and her world wasn't as stable as I usually try to make it. Let me give you a little backstory on previous times this little angel has seen me in tears.

Last winter my grandmother had been having some health problems. I just got off a phone call with her finding out she may need to have some risky open heart surgery. I was upset so I retreated to my bathroom and started crying. Lily, age 3 then, was in the other room playing, but she heard me. She always hears me. I realize that now. She came into the room with her little play princess cell phone and handed it to me and said, "Mommy, call God, he'll answer you." You see we had recently started memorizing scripture with Truthcards and the previous week our verse was Psalm 120:1, "I call on the Lord in my distress and he answers me." So naturally, as I stared at that little princess play phone and I looked up at Lily with her eyes so full of hope and knowing that she had the answer for me... I cried even harder, but then I laughed and hugged her and told her how very, very right she was. And we sat on that bathroom floor together and prayed for my grandmother. She ended up needing a more minor surgery and is doing well.

Several months later, right after Lily tuned 4, I was packing the kids in the car to head to a meeting at church. I was startled to see a dead baby deer on my neighbors front lawn. It had apparently gotten stuck in my neighbor's fence in his backyard and died, but he brought it up front when doing yardwork to bag it up. Great. Thanks for that. And when I saw it I screamed out loud so I brought my kids attetion straight where I didn't want it to be. Nice job, Mommy. Then as we pull out of the driveway, Lily asks me why that man was putting the sleeping baby deer in a trash bag. Was he trash? I felt an urge to make up a story about how deer take naps in trash bags instead of beds, but thankfully that's not what came out of my mouth. I explained that he was dead. We had never known anyone who was dead before and she was too young to remember our cat who died when she was 2, so it was hard to explain what dead meant. I found us having a very sweet conversation about heaven.
"Who goes to heaven, Mommy? Will I go to heaven?"
"Yes, but not for a long time."
"Because I have Jesus in my heart? Will Jesus come with me in my heart to heaven?"
"Jesus will always be with you. No matter where you go."
"Mommy, let's pray about it right now."

So in that 5 minute ride to church my 4 year old was praying for Jesus to come into her heart so he could be with her in heaven. Not quite where or how I had planned on discussing salvation, but there was a reason for that dead baby deer that morning...
3 days later my grandfather suddenly passed away. We found out about it at night, but the next morning I came downstairs before anyone was awake to call my dad and see how he was doing. After I got off the phone the realization that Gramps was really gone hit me hard and I cried. I was crying so hard I didn't hear the pitter patter of little feet come down the stairs. Lily. She had heard me. Of course.

"Mommy, what's wrong? Why do you have water coming out of your eyes?"
"Sweetie, Gramps died last night and I'm sad about it because I'll miss him very much."
"But mommy, why are you sad? That means he's in heaven with Jesus."
More tears, more hugging, more blown away by this little angel.
"Yes, sweetie, he is. You're right."

Gramps and Lily picking beans from his garden

Sometimes I'm not ready to have these conversations with my daughter. I'm sure the time will come when I have to experience all these things with my son as well ina different way. But I've learned that its not my timing. It's God's timing. 

So after my flare up I felt a Holy Spirit nudge that I needed to explain to my almost 5 year old what's wrong with Mommy. So my mother watched my son that day as I picked Lily up from vacation bible school and took her out to lunch. After we had ordered, I explained to her that mommy is okay. I said that I have a disease, a sickness that sometimes makes my body hurt even though you can't see a boo boo. I explained that it was just the way God made me. And I said that the disease will probably never go away, but it can be controlled by medicine. She almost cut me off mid-sentence when the word 'control' came out of my mouth. 

"No, no mommy. God is in in control. Did you know that?"

The eagerness behind her words showed that this was something that she has just learned and she couldn't wait to share it with me. Naturally, I started crying. I said, "You're right sweetie. Sometimes Mommy forgets." 

Thank God for this little angel in my life who can keep Mommy in check. I get goose bumps every time I think of these conversations. The Lord has given her such amazing spiritual gifts and I am so excited to see how she uses them in the years to come. 

The past two weeks when I have gotten bummed about my disease I hear those words. 

"God is in control. Did you know that?"

It's a reminder we all need sometimes. And you never know what messenger God is going to use. So be on the look out. 

Trying to gain control...

I've opened up before about the health issues I've been dealing with going on 5 years now. I've also shared about some things we are doing to change our eating habits to hopefully change the course of our health. So I wanted to share with you the journey I am now taking.

Several weeks ago I visited my doctor's office to discuss tapering off my meds. It just doesn't sit well with me that I am angst ridden over the origin of every piece of food that crosses my lips, but then I inject myself with a medication each week that actually weakens my immune system. Intentionally. I want to gain some control of this disease. That shouldn't be so hard, right? 

So my doctor gave me his blessing to start on this path. And he actually prayed with me about it. My doctor is awesome like that. We both believe in the Great Healer. We decided I would try to go 2 weeks in between shots and the 3, etc. until I figured out the lowest dose I could comfortably take. 

I was so gung-ho about it! The day I should have taken my medicine came and went without the least bit of pain or inflammation. And then I went on to day 8 and day 9. On day 10 I felt tired, but nothing more so I laid down to rest during naptime. I felt a strange cramp in my foot as I rested, but thought little of it. And then I got up to get the kids up from nap. And I couldn't walk. I couldn't put any weight on my foot without seering pain coursing throughout my body. I had to crawl to my kids rooms to get them up and then crawl down the stairs on my bottom like a 2 year old. Next to my 2 year old who was thinking we were playing a game. Then I put ice on it as my kids watched a movie while we waited for Daddy to get home. 

The pain got worse and worse until I was crying from the pain. They were tears born not only from the pain I was experiencing then, but the pain I had experienced almost 5 years earlier. Tears born out of pain, frustration, fear, anxiety, uncertainty, anger. Very familiar tears. 

But this time my tears didn't fall on the face of a newborn baby who was blissfully ignorant to her mother's situation. This time they were witnessed by children who were fully aware that something was indeed wrong with Mommy. I tried to explain that my foot had a boo boo, but you just can't see it. My son told me to get a Band Aid. So sweet. But there was fear in my daughter's eyes. Real fear. And I felt horrible. But it only fueled my tears. 

I crawled to the refrigerator, then to my bathroom and gave myself my shot. Once my husband got home, he fed the kids and put them to bed. Then I called a neighbor who is a great friend who came over to hang with my sleeping kids while my husband took me to the ER. 

We waited for 2 hours, but the girl with the autoimmune flare up understandably took the back seat to the real life-threatening emergencies that came in, so I kept getting put to the end of the line. As we waited my foot slowly started to feel better as the shot started to work it's magic of destroying my white blood cells. So I decided to go home. My husband wheeled me out and I told the triage nurse we were leaving. 

The next couple of days my foot continued to improve and I felt confirmation that my body is in fact not ready to come off my medication that quickly. I need to take slower steps and this week I went 7 days and 12 hours between doses. Maybe next week I can do 8. We'll see. 

But the real story here is that the next day I was faced with telling my almost 5 year old that mommy has a disease. 

Please join me in my next post as I discuss how that conversation went down. You won't want to miss it! It reminded me who is really in control in this situation...

Here's the next post!

Eat Local Challenge

A few weeks ago I shared a little bit about my hubby's health challenges in this post and I've shared about my health challenges in this post. So not to whine about our issues again (whaaaaaah!) you can read those if you like. Well we just got my hubby's latest blood test results and we are celebrating that he has once again lowered his cholesterol without the use of medication! Yay! So it's more confirmation for us that we can't continue to sit back and blame genetics for our health issues. Yes, genetics clearly play a huge roll in the issues we have, but it's how we respond to those issues that will affect our health in the long run. Also, we have a huge responsibility for teaching our children how to take care of their bodies, minds and souls. I don't want my daughter thinking she can eat french fries and hot dogs for every meal simply because it tastes good to her. Because it's not good for her. And she and our son now have multiple strikes again them in the genetics department. So how can we prevent them from experiencing the symptoms we've experienced? We need to teach them how to eat. But to do that we first need to reteach ourselves how to eat. Over the past 2 years we (mostly meaning me, since I cook and shop for our family) have become obsessed with how to save money on our monthly grocery budget. I became more of a stay-at-home mom and we had to cut from our budget somewhere (cancel internet service, you say? Go wash your mouth out with soap!) I've been so narrow minded in my couponing ways that I have had blinders on to something even more valuable- our family's health. We have eaten more processed food and less real food. We certainly haven't eaten anything organic or local on a regular basis because I thought we just couldn't afford it. But I've discovered that we can't afford not to eat better. The saying "Pay your farmer now or pay your doctor later" really hit home with me and I felt like God has been telling us to make a drastic change.

So, over the past couple of months I have vowed to not turn a blind eye any longer.  We are beginning the process of educating ourselves more and making better decisions for the big picture! We need to make educated decisions for our health and well being and we need to know where our food comes from, how is it being raised and who we are supporting by buying it. Seems simple enough, right? Well, it kind of is. But it's also overwhelming. At first, I was researching too much too quickly and started having nightmares about genetically engineered foods chasing me through giant soybeans fields. Seriously, that happened. So, I went back to square one and just started looking into what our options were locally. That's when I discovered a really easy local challenge. April is Eat Local month in Charleston and the challenge can be as drastic as you want it to be. You can commit to changing a few things or everything. Like spending 10% of your grocery budget on local food or you can make a little bigger of a commitment like spending 100% of your grocery budget on local food. We are somewhere in between right now as we get our feet wet. We have signed up for a CSA with Our Local Foods and we have discovered some other great local products through that site. Some foods we knew about like the free range chicken from chicken whisperer Nate Davis at Thornhill Farms (which is delish!) and quite a bit more products that we didn't know about, like the low temperature pasteurized, non- homogenized milk from the Happy Cow Creamery- I'm not a milk drinker, but that stuff is ah-ma-zing!

Mmmm... free-range... well it was once.  

Our Local Foods delivery this week! Delivery right to my kitchen for a few dollars extra (so worth it!)

 We've also signed up for a CSF (That's community supported fishery) through Abundant Seafood on Shem Creek right in our town of Mount Pleasant. We haven't picked up yet, but I'm really excited to pick up fish right on the docks! The kids are going to love that! 

And we've also been dining out locally. Last week we enjoyed an incredible date night feast at 17 North Roadside Kitchen  which serves all local food and they know how to serve it up right! 

Do you see my pork chop? That's the small size portion, y'all!

And the local shopping has been a blast, too. The kids are in love with our local farm store at Boone Hall. It may be the free samples of fresh ground peanut butter. Or the fact that I don't have to strap them into those giant car carts that I hate to maneuver down the aisles.

Sure, I'll get a bunch of apples to hide the chocolate truffle at the bottom of the bag. Genius! 

Picking our own strawberries at Boone Hall

And what does an all local dinner plate look like? Well, this is what we had tonight:

New York Strip from McCutchen Farms topped with shiitake mushrooms from Mepkin Abbey, asparagus & collard greens from Boone Hall Farms, potatoes from Thornhill Farms, with a side of sourdough bread from Normandy Farms Bakery topped with pimento cheese made in-house at Kitchen Table Cuisine. And all the herbs I used to season the food were from our own backyard.

So what will our grocery list look like after the Eat Local Challenge ends in April? I'm thinking we will be working a lot of these things into our budget on a permanent basis to help improve our overall health. And showing our kids that the food we eat can come from right down the street instead of the produce section at the big-box grocery store may just set something in motion. Good habits start young. 

So who wants to join us in this challenge? You can register here and print out this scorecard to help you come up with goals and keep track of them. 

We're having a blast! And I feel better than I have in a LONG time. My joints aren't inflamed and I have more energy than I've had since before I had kids. My long term goal is to get off my super-crazy once-a-week-injected, possibly cancer-causing medication. With the assistance of my doctor, of course. But for the first time in years I see a light at the end of that tunnel. I see it as a possibility. And that's a straight from above miracle right there. Can I get a A-men?

Flashback Friday

This week's Flashback Friday is one of my all time favorite videos of Lily Belle. She was about 9 months old. This was back in the days when we actually had to wake her up in the morning. Now she seems to wake up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:15 on her own. Daylight savings time has had an opposite effect on our house- kids are getting up earlier instead of later- and this mama is tired!

Watch for the sweet moment when Lily realizes who is there to wake her up. Melts my heart.

Happy Friday, y'all!