Strawberry Fields Forever

This past week we took Abi Kate strawberry pickin’ (it seems more Southern without the ‘g,’ right?). Tommy’s schedule differs from about 95% of the people we know. He works Saturdays and usually takes off one day during the week. It’s a bummer sometimes because when everyone is posting their fun Saturday plans, our day is relatively normal-- just her and I. But, the benefit is that we get to do things during the week together when everything is less crowded….

As Abi Kate has gotten older we often try to spend our family day together doing something purposeful, going somewhere together. I’m really big on giving her experiences, no matter how big or small they are. Anything out of the ordinary becomes a great learning opportunity and gives her a chance to create fun. We also just like doing things together as a family, so win win. J

I’ve written about our pursuit of cleaner living right here. It is still an ever-evolving process, and we go up and down with it. But, one of my favorite things about Spring and approaching Summer is that it makes it much easier to find quality produce locally. Instead of paying exorbitant amounts for organic produce at the grocery store, we can find it much cheaper at a variety of Farmer’s Markets and pick-your-own farms. So, we went on the Tennessee Pick-Your- Own website, found a nearby strawberry farm, and trekked the 45 minutes out there this week. While they’re not certified organic, they don’t spray, and that’s good enough for me! I also tend to be a bit more lenient with local farming practices simply because the food is typically so much richer in nutrient content. It wasn’t picked two weeks ago in California, packaged through a facility, and flown out to my local chain grocery store where I buy it after it’s been on the shelf for two days….  Freshly picked=more live enzymes, nutrients, and minerals. So for me, I come up pretty even on buying certified organic that’s two weeks old with freshly grown produce that isn’t certified… I’m also big on supporting local farming so that quality food can stay in MY community instead of supporting a farm in California that I don’t live even remotely close to… you get the picture. They’re also such a great price it’s easy to get a ton and freeze them for later when they aren’t readily available or in season.

We almost opted not to go because it’s started sprinkling rain as we loaded up, and a chilly wind was kicking in. We went anyway, and I’m so glad.

It was a little bit like heaven walking through those strawberry fields. For one, we are strawberry eaters. They’re delicious and are one of Abi Kate’s favorite foods. And these not only look beautiful, they are hands down the best strawberries I have ever eaten. Juicy and soft, sweet not tart…

We put Abi Kate down to let her have a go at picking them, too. Her favorites? The white ones. You know, the unripe ones. Every time I’d turn around she’d be sneaking a bite of one…. After showing her a few times, she started choosing the red ones. Usually. I loved watching her chubby little hand grasp that red berry and yank hard to get it off the vine. Precious. Sometimes, she put it in the bucket. More often than not, it went directly into her mouth. Seriously, they were so good, who could blame her?! When I tried to show her that we put them in the bucket, it was met with a hand up and a, “No.” ;0

So, we made a dropping game out of it and she decided the bucket might be ok….

 Still sneaking the strawberries at every chance ;)

It started raining while we were picking, so Tommy said he’d run to the car and grab his big umbrella. I thought he meant a golf umbrella. Incorrect. He meant a Tommy Bahama beach umbrella. And it popped backwards in the wind, which was also hilarious. I know that farmer was looking at us like we were crazy, going up and down the rows with a white-strawberry stealing baby under a huge porch umbrella. I’d laugh at us, too. J

We were damp and cold by the time we finished filling up two gallons worth of strawberries, but the experience was so fun. Watching her enjoy the activity we chose was so fun.

 Learning about strawberries :)

 This little girl adores her Daddy

So we headed home, eating strawberries from the bags… You know how you keep saying, “Just one more. This is the last one. Promise.” That happened on that 45 minute drive. Like over and over again. Oops….

Every summer we try to make a big batch strawberry jam and freeze it. It’s so much healthier than store bought brands, lasts for several months, and it also just tastes really good….

 STILL snatching strawberries at every chance she can ;)

Once the honey and sucanat went into the berry mix, this girl was a bowl licking fool! She threw a great big fit when we pulled her away….bless her, it’s hard giving up a snack you really want!

So we got out her little table to give her a cooking station of her own, threw some whole wheat flour in a bowl and gave her a spatula. Not too much “cooking” went on there. It was mostly her eating the flour. 

I think it's obvious how she feels about the flour... look at that face :/

I love these days spent with my best friend and the little girl we share. 

For the Love of Reading

“Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers.” 

I adore Charles William Eliot’s take on reading. It sums up, in one short sentence, the way I feel about literature. I am the person who stood waiting at the mailbox for my early delivery of Harry Potter 7. The person who read for nearly 12 solid hours until my eyes were so fuzzy I could barely make out the words, stopping only to call my friend in another state at 2 am to discuss how magnificently the characters were developed throughout the series.  I am the person who can’t get rid of a book because I might need to re-read it at least three more times. The one who couldn’t stop herself from finishing another series within three days, even though I wanted to slow down. And now that you have a clear picture of how big of a nerd I am…… I just love reading. Always have. When I taught Kindergarten, I had 17 plastic milk crates filled with books in my classroom library at all times. They were switched out monthly with the other books I had kept in my storage cabinets. And then there were my “teacher books”-- the ones that were so precious, I couldn’t stand to have them “Kindergarten-ized”, so I read those books to them.

I love all books-- non-fiction and fiction, though I prefer the latter. I love getting so wrapped up the characters that I feel emotional and exhausted when a book ends. I love slipping into the mind and heart of the author while I read their words. And I’ve always felt that if you can read, you can learn anything. You can teach yourself anything. That’s why it was so important to me to instill a love for reading in my students, and now in my child. I’ve always read to Abi Kate. And I like her to see me reading. I saved almost all of those crates of books from my classroom, so she has a large library to choose from.  My mom is a school librarian, so we’re never short on receiving new books either. Even my best friend’s Christmas gift to her was a Pride and Prejudice counting board book. Her first classic. (The same friend that talked with me at 2 am about Harry… Shocking? Not so much.)  And as of late, if you were to walk into my house at any given moment, this is probably what you’d see…

 Abi Kate’s favorite thing to do right now is read. I cannot tell you how excited I get over this (again, with a glimpse into my great nerdiness). In her waking hours, she truly spends the majority of them bringing books to me to read over and over again-- I’ve never been so thankful that I saved all those books-- I switch them out for new ones frequently. You can only read Ten Tiny Puppies so many times…. I often find her sitting down and flipping through the pages herself-- quacking at ducks, mooing at cows, meowing at cats. Sometimes, she just babbles while she turns the pages like she’s just making up her own little story. And I swear I could just sit there and watch her for hours.

I hope she always reads like this, appreciates the words and the stories. Granted, there’s no great depth to  Spot pop-up book or beautifully worded phrases in The Little Red Hen, but we’ve got to start somewhere right?! ;) Poor child, she never really had a chance in this house. I’m such a believer in the benefits of environmental print and language development through books. With all these books, who needs My Baby Can Read?! Seriously, who needs it… No one. That’s who. (I almost got on a soapbox about developmentally appropriate practices and the importance of phonemic awareness and phonics…. You’ve been spared. Trust me.) 

She looks like a little girl when I find her this way, not like a baby. And when she’s not reading, she’s chatting, often words she’s learned from her books. She uses about 25-30 words consistently and independently. They’re just little words right now, words that usually don’t hold great meaning to most (or many syllables for that matter haha.) But one day, I hope she comes to love the words she reads, that they teach her about life and people,  that they make her laugh out loud and cry freely. I hope that she will read with intention, appreciating the way words can be woven together to create a tapestry of vitality. I hope she learns that words are powerful and that she chooses hers carefully.  

I know it appears as though she's literally inhaling the book. And while I'd like to think that it's an outward expression of her hunger for books, she's really just kissing herself in the mirror on the page. ;)

Those books are already becoming her most “patient teacher.” And I love that. Even though the reading and the new words make her seem older, I still love those books.

So read on, sister! “The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go.” Dr. Seuss (Except don’t go too far… your momma can’t handle that.)

Spring, Easter, and Everything Else

I’m loving this weather. Loving it. Like I just want to gather it all up into a big ball and give it a hug. I love living in the South, particularly in Tennessee. There’s a host of reasons why, but one of the big ones is that we get to experience every season. And yes, I know our weather has been a bit stranger this year-- an almost snowless winter and a warm Spring-- but we still get to watch the seasons shift and fade from one into another. And that is good for my soul. At the risk of sounding like I’m a BFF with Mother Nature, I really do love when a new season begins. I love that it’s new, a fresh start. I feel that way at the beginning of every season.

Because the weather has been so lovely, it’s afforded us the chance to do some outdoorsy things with Abi Kate. And she has proven thus far that she is not her mother’s child. She loves being outside. I often open up the back door in our kitchen in the morning while she eats breakfast, and as soon as the child is done eating she runs to the door and shouts, “Down! Down!” (Safety Sally won’t go down the steps by herself yet). She just wants to be outside all the time. So much so, that my closing the door this morning so we could get dressed ended in an official toddler tantrum. I like being outside. I really do. I just like it better from the porch, in a rocking chair, with a drink, hiding from the bugs. Since she seems to be a big fan of this new season, too, it made this next part an easy choice…

Easter is just a few days away. This significance of Resurrection Day is huge in our home-- it’s the source of our salvation. But I always feel like Easter gets left out in our culture. Stores spend forever on Christmas. Christmas Eve, Day, Week, Month-- it’s ALL a big deal. But Easter seems to be looked over. An egg hunt, a new dress, church, Easter dinner, and it’s done. Forgotten until the next year. The truth is, without Easter, sweet little baby Jesus’ birth would’ve meant something different on Christmas Day. The purpose of His birth was ultimately His death our forgiveness. I know there’s a big push amongst most believers I know to make sure that their children understand the true meaning of Christmas, the importance beyond the materialism, why we give the gifts that we do. And I think because the celebration of Christmas lasts for essentially a month (or earlier if you’re Walmart), there are so many opportunities to bring things back around to Christ’s birth. It’s easier. With Easter, there’s no big preparation. I realize that’s part of the purpose of Lent- but even with that, it often seems to be only a personal and quiet sacrifice, which is great. But there are no company parties, no dinner celebrations/gift exchanges with friends leading up to it, no outward preparations made in the culture. Because of that, we wanted to make sure that Easter morning is understood by Abi Kate for what it is, so we opted to do a Spring Basket instead of an Easter basket from the Bunny. When she wakes up on Easter morning and we get ready for church, it will be a big deal-- the cross will be a big deal. And P.S. I totally think you can do Easter baskets and make Jesus a big deal in your home. We just wanted to be sure that WE didn’t skip over the real meaning in our home. We aren’t anti-Easter bunny, or anti-Santa people. We like Santa and the Bunny. In fact, my mom always does Easter baskets, so the Bunny will just go to her house and Abi Kate will have a basket whenever we see them. We just want that morning as we prepare for worship, the days leading up to it, to be all about Jesus and nothing else. And since I love new seasons, it was easy to pick a Spring Basket. She gets to open her basket on the first day of Spring, which was March 20 this year. (We were late by a few days. Oops! Good thing she has no sense of time.)

Target $1 bins were good to us this year and I got a host of her things from there. Bubbles (hence her new word which she pronounces “bo-buhls!”) Sand and water toys for the new sand and water tables gifted to us from some sweet friends. A Praisebaby DVD for rainy days (this has been a source of much hilarity as we watch her dance). A new diaper-- seriously, there’s always a reason for a new diaper. Besides, it’s getting hot outside and she’ll be running around in just them soon. Like I how justified that one?! Books for her car book basket (she looks at books while I drive so I keep a basket of her books in my car). 

 Going after the snacks first... Smart girl

 And immediately taking them to Daddy to open

 Her current favorite pasttime-- reading. She's my child for sure!

So far, I think her favorite thing has been the bubbles. She figured out really quickly they were a necklace, so she wears them around the house all day and quacks when she finds them since they’re in the shape of a duck. Best $1 purchase ever.

 Bubbles with Aunt Ra

Safety Sally strikes again... Despite the fact that the patio is flush with the ground, knees are needed to get down ;) 

Love this sweet giggly girl.

Easter always elicits sweet memories for me. Every year we dyed eggs, made Jell-o jiggler eggs and rabbits, hunted for the golden egg. You know what else I remember a lot about Easter? The clothing.

 My mom made our dresses very often. Sadly, I did not inherit her domestic goodness in the sewing department. We almost always wore white hats and white gloves and usually a corsage. Thank you, Southern living. I’ve always been a girly girl, so I loved it. I remember spinning in the dresses to make sure skirt twirled when I spun, obviously the most important part of any dress. And I remember my sister going, “Mom, this is so scratchy. I don’t like it. Mom, do I have to wear these gloves? This flower is poking me.” Despite our close friendship, Rachel is about 180 degrees the opposite of me. She did not heart the dresses, the white hats, ribbons, or flowers. She did, however, make out with fabulous Easter gifts, which I very obviously NEEDED. 

The significance of Easter was never lost in our home, and I’m grateful for that. I really love all holidays, and I love the old memories and new ones that we’re making.

I especially love that my sister got the dress with the collar, extra lace, high neck, and puffed sleeves. She loved it, too. Just look at her face. And have no fear, there WERE gloves with these dresses.

I thought of our “Easter best” because when I was shopping for Abi Kate’s Spring basket, guess what was in their $1 bin?! White Easter hats. I almost bought one, just for good measure…..

And just to throw in one more flash back--

 What a difference a year makes! (We deemed this the Easter dog as he kinda didn’t look so much like a rabbit in the picture.)

I hope your Easter is filled with sweet memories, white gloves or not, and that the message of the cross and the life it gives echoes throughout your home. Happy Easter, friends! 

The Way Life Looks

I’m a stay-at-home-mom. I know that title elicits all sorts of responses from all sorts of people. Some people think it’s great. And I guess some people feel sorry for me. You can tell in the way they say, “Oh” when they ask what I do. But I don’t feel sorry for me. I feel blessed. Grateful. Filled up from all the moments spent with a baby girl in my lap, no makeup on. Reading a book, or nursing, or just sitting and watching her play with her nesting cups.

When new people ask what I do, I tell them I stay home with Abi Kate. And sometimes, I feel the need to throw in that I was once a teacher. That I went to college. That I have a Bachelors. That I graduated Magna Cum Laude. That I was a Kindergarten teacher who loved her little friends every day (or almost every day!). That there’s depth to me as there is to them. (Actually, I don’t really throw in all those details. Just that I used to teach Kindergarten.)

A lot of times, I stop after saying I stay home. There’s no other title I’d rather have than “Momma”. It’s ok if people feel sorry for me. Like I lost my career or that I’m now shackled to a little person at home. Or that my life isn’t as “free” as it used to be. It’s ok, because I know things about my life that they do not.

I know women who work and have kids. They make this flawless seam from work to home, and they make it look beautifully easy. They’re successful in their careers and successful mommas, and they know it was the right choice for their family. I want to tie a Superwoman cape around them because they’ve earned it. But I know myself well, knew that I wouldn’t be able to move smoothly from one thing to the next without drowning in my own sense of overwhelming commitments. And truth be told, if I was able to be home, I wanted to be. So I left the classroom, and while I miss the girls I taught with every day, and I occasionally miss the fun activities and teaching moments, on the whole I thoroughly enjoy my days with my girl.

I get kind of tickled when I hear what people think stay-at-home moms do all day. I mean there’s all sorts of articles and opinions and ideas floating around about being at home. Sometimes, I read these things and I get that, “Wow, Katie… You kinda suck” feeling. Of course, I know people write about what they’re good at, about the things they got together in their lives, not usually about the chaos or crappy parts. So, in an effort to be transparent, here’s the reality in our house….

Abi Kate wakes up around 8:30. So do I. It’s nice. As a self-diagnosed crappy sleeper, I like sleeping even though I’m not very good at it. If you texted me at 7:30 and I didn’t respond til 8:15, I was probably just asleep. J Some days, I wake up before she does and get a few things done. Some days I don’t.

She eats breakfast and I stay in my jammies and clean the kitchen usually or do a load of laundry. And I feed Layla who is most definitely barking non-stop by this time, because you know, it’s been a whole hour since her last meal or something.  When Abi is done eating, that’s normally when I eat and drink a cup of coffee while she plays. Or sometimes, she brings books to me one after the other while I sneak in bites of food in between stories.

And during her naptimes, I usually clean or take a shower or get sucked into my laptop or read or get her lunch ready. Very few days are the same. Even though I “stay home”, we usually don’t stay home every day. I run errands with her and see her reflection in the mirror as she flips through books in the backseat, claps her hands to the music, talks to me, giggles at herself, or just stares out the window. And it’s funny, but those simple little moments are the ones where I know, overwhelmingly in my heart, that this is right where I belong. Wherever she is-- that’s where I need to be.

She plays with my friend’s kids usually once a week, sometimes twice a week. She loves them all, and I love watching her. Sometimes we go for a walk on the greenway, and now that it’s so pretty sometimes she just runs around outside in the backyard while I scamper around to make sure all the dog poop has been picked up. (Told you it was transparent). She gets visits from my family frequently. Every Friday, we go to Books and Babies. She loves it. She’s inquisitive and social, loves the puppets and loves to be held by the teacher. I love the moments with her. Something that she and I go and do together every week. It’s nothing big and important and it’s over in about 45 minutes, it’s just that it’s mine- something I share with just her regularly.

Some days I do purposeful learning activities with her, and some days we don’t. Sometimes I stay in my jammies until noon. And some days, I feel like I should award myself with the Superwoman cape because I did all the “right” things that day. My house looks gorgeous, my dinner is totally plant based and delicious, my baby learned another word that I taught her, I have makeup on and my hair looks good. But in honesty, I don’t have those Superwoman days all the time. And I’m learning to be ok with that.

There’s 175,000 things that can be done around my house always. There’s always some activity to get to, friends or family to visit. And I’ve read all about the need, as mothers, to be productive and get things accomplished. Some days I get a lot accomplished and some days I don’t. And I’m learning to be ok with that, too. Because great as the lives of some women sound through the computer screen, as scheduled and perfect as their days are-- that isn’t my life. And that isn’t what defines successful mothering. I’m learning to let things go, because enjoying my days with her is far more important than whether I woke up before she did that day or not. I am not going to be a slave to my schedule.

This week she learned the word “bubble”, and she shouts it every time I blow bubbles. She started saying “cack! cack!” everytime she sees a duck. She knows which of her books have a picture of a dog in them, and she brings the same one to me and turns the pages saying, “Hey Nora! Hey Nora!” until she finds the page with the dog. (She doesn’t call for Layla anymore….If you know both of our dogs, you’ll understand this). And then she waves and waves and barks at the dog in the picture until I think that surely she’s tired of that book, only to find that she has a renewed interest in it 5 minutes later. She started running--running in the sense that she’s going as fast as her chubby little legs can carry her-- into the living room when she’s upset about something. She started making the kissing sound when she kisses me. And she has a renewed love for dancing (and bless the child, she is SUCH a white girl. She leads with her head.) I have read Snuggle Puppy so many times that I no longer need the book. I can recite the entire thing for you right now. And guess what? I love it.  I haven’t felt less productive or less valuable to society. I haven’t felt sad that I’m not as pretty as I once was with fresh makeup and organized hair (well maybe a little sad. But not a lot!). And it’s ok that I still have three loads of laundry that are unwashed. Being home with her is enough. The memories and moments with her are enough. And while I’ve never felt sorry for myself for being at home because it is what I chose, I’ve just extra-enjoyed it this week.  

And maybe here soon, I won’t feel the need to explain what I used to do when people ask. Maybe I’ll just say, “I play with my baby all day.” Because this was the right choice, without a doubt, for our family. And I am more certain of that, more certain of these moments, more certain of this job than I have ever been in any other. 

In With the New...

I feel like I've been vying between sadness and frustration within the last week, mostly at myself. I’m not completely sure why. Nothing big has happened. No great changes have come my way. Maybe it’s just several small things that I’ve spent far too much time dwelling on. Mostly, I’ve just felt a bit discouraged. And I suppose that’s to be expected. Relationships are sticky and messy. They’re rarely linear or stagnant in fashion, and I’ve never been one to enjoy change-- change in circumstance or change in relationships. (P.S. Have no fear- this has nothing to do with my hubs. He’s got my heart all wrapped up in too many ways to explain). There’s been no dissolution of friendships or acquaintances. Truly nothing notable. It’s mostly been me overanalyzing things in my mind. I’m an interpreter by nature, often overly sensitive, and I’ll spend too much time considering what could be. And it hasn’t just been people, it’s been considering futuristic things-- investments of time and money and long term commitments. And honestly, I think on the whole these things have just held me captive emotionally. Go ahead and add “easily overwhelmed” to the growing list of traits that aren’t so fantastic about me. And I’ve officially become an old woman who can’t seem to adapt to time change either. It’s taken me days to get my sleeping patterns back to normal after Daylight Savings. Lack of sleep coupled with emotionalism is never a great combo for me.

So, I guess I’ve just been consumed. Distracted. With myself. My thoughts. My concerns. Yet another fantastic trait…… But in the beginning of the week, the weather started changing. Sunshine and cool breezes. New blooms on plants and green grass gaining vitality. All of it just quietly ushering in Spring. Abi Kate and I spent the days outdoors and it was so good for my soul. Good for my heart. I could feel the stirrings of growth. And as I watched all of the things in my own yard changing, I stopped dwelling on myself and things I haven’t been able to figure out. My focus was shifted to the goodness of God. His Creation. Growing right in front of me. And I don’t just mean the flower bushes that are miraculously budding in spite of my very black thumb.

She was so sweet to watch in a new experience-- playing outside without shoes, exploring the grass, toddling around.

She giggled and was surprised at the things she touched and felt. She is often pensive in new situations as she tries to figure things out. She’s still surprised at her new mobility and gains so much joy from walking quickly towards something she longs after. And this time, that something was me.

I prayed while we played. Chose to be present in these sweet moments instead of being caught up with myself.

Sister can kill some oranges.... it's like she's afraid scurvy is lurking right around the corner.


And when we went inside, I spent some time reading and in prayer. Abi spent some time cooling off...

I don’t normally stick with one devotional. I use a mishmash of things. Funny the book I that I grabbed expounded on John 16, about not becoming overwhelmed by life’s circumstances. Appropriate, no? I can’t dictate the changes in relationships with others, can’t alter their view of me, can’t control the response of other people. (And truthfully, if I’d get my eyes off myself and stop being concerned about what I can do in and of myself, the struggle would probably end.) I cannot see into the future and know that certain decisions are better than another choice. That’s hard for me. But I can have faith, and gain joy in my current circumstances. I don’t have to be overwhelmed by new experiences or changes in current conditions-- if my sweet baby girl isn’t, why should I be? She didn’t sit down on the concrete and refuse to go anywhere because it was new and she preferred to stay where she was comfortable. She stood her little self up and went exploring. Some things she liked and some things she didn't. But it didn't stop her from going out into winter's leftover grass, prickly and rough, and seeking out Spring's clover over and over again. Once again, I guess I ought to take a lesson from the little girl who only stands about 2 feet tall and weighs all of 21 pounds, who giggles when she’s chased and embraces newness as something to learn about not something to mourn. She teaches me much. And my heart just spills over from being so filled up with her. The longer she’s with us, the more I’m convinced she was sent so that Christ might disciple me. So today I’m thankful for present moments, quiet learning, and changing seasons both outdoors and within my life, even when the latter shakes me. And I’m thankful for the angel baby that makes me laugh and cry, think and grow all at the same time.

Parenting a 1 Year Old (a.k.a A Great Need For Coffee)

I know it appears that I have become lazy and slacking in this blog, but I promise I haven’t, at least not completely.  My laptop suddenly died and it was in the “shop” for a week (while I had all sorts of withdraws.) Even though it’s only been 2 or 3 weeks since my last post, it seems big stuff is happening around here anyway…

Um, friends---one of you or some of you neglected to tell me that a one year old is very different than an infant. A lot different.  In a lot of different ways. Raise your hand if that was you!!  ;) Abi Kate is 13 months old now and started walking about two weeks ago, right at the end of month 12 (which I predicted. See, do I know my girl or what?!) . She transitioned from only taking a few steps at a time to wanting to walk more often than crawl much more quickly than I expected. I think it’s probably because she is a later walker. Anyway, she thinks she’s big stuff when she makes it all the way across the room. She’ll throw herself into the couch after making it and start laughing. The other day I was in the kitchen and she came toddling out of her bedroom. I’m so used to seeing her crawl that it looked bizarre. She’s also started standing herself up alone, not pulling up to stand to walk. It's so fun watching her newly found mobility.

I didn’t think it was possible, but she is busier than she was before, even too busy to sit down and eat sometimes. She’ll immediately start saying, “Down! Down!” as soon as she gets in the high chair. Fun times. Her personality keeps evolving and I love the little person she’s becoming. She’s quite strong willed (we all know she got that from Tommy. If we could just make him a little more laid back…. Ha!) and pretty opinionated on what she wants to do and frequently on what she does not want to do. We are learning the ropes of discipline with her, what works for her and what doesn’t. She’s our little social bug, which we both love about her. She walked across the chiropractor’s office the other day to an older woman, arms outstretched, and climbed right into her lap. Stranger danger, anyone?! 

I really didn’t anticipate there being such a big difference between a 12 month old and an 11 month old, but in Abi Kate’s case, there has been. I’ve heard my mom say countless times that about the time you get them figured out, they change what they’re doing again. Or as my friend Rachel says, “Once you figure out what makes them tick, they start to tock.” So true. It’s been that way all through her little life so far,but I’m loving the journey just the same. She is entering into such a FUN age. She wants to play with us, she adores all music and dances and claps and shouts “Taomp!” (stomp) and pats her little foot on the floor.  

As she has gotten more independent and become more of her own little person, I’ve seen some other traits emerge. Some of them being a bit less than lovely. She has a pretty quick temper and is easily (and loudly) angered when she’s removed from somewhere or something. She started by throwing herself back and shouting, “No! No! No!” and kicking her feet. Oh dear. And then she’d get so frustrated she started to bang her head into the carpet and look at me for a reaction. This first time she did this, I pretty sure I said, “For real?!” (Sorry sister, not acceptable.) Some of that of course results from lack of communication skills and an inability to reason. It’s age appropriate. But some of it is just her personality. A few days after her first birthday, she had a day where these throw downs happened quite often throughout the day. I remember sitting in her room while she played that afternoon and just crying-- not because I didn’t know how to handle her or was exhausted, but because I SO identified with how she was feeling. I literally remember feeling angered beyond words as a 4 year old (my poor mom). And I was so upset because I know she got those traits from me. I was almost even embarrassed, just sitting in my little house alone.  I’ve always been easily and quickly riled up. Shocking, I know…..;) I never actually minded that about myself until I got older; and now that I have a daughter, I most definitely mind that about myself. It’s been something I’ve always struggled with. I think maybe I’ve gotten better with age, but not a whole lot. It was one of those things I wanted to get rid of so my children didn’t see me exhibiting such behavior and mimic me (I promise I don’t stomp my feet and shout no when I’m mad. Funny image though, right!?). Anyway, when Tommy got home I cried to him too, (bless him for listening to my 9000 meltdowns) and told him I didn’t understand why she was this way. She was so young, honestly too young (in my opinion) to be exhibiting learned behavior in response to an abstract situation. So I told him maybe she’d heard me when I was pregnant with her, when I was less cautious. She’d felt my emotions and quick frustrations and adapted them. I know I was kinda reaching there. Maybe not my most rational moment. Either way, I felt terrible because I felt like I’d passed on these ugly characteristics to her, and I felt discouraged because I felt like my best efforts weren’t producing desired results.

And then I ran across this and it basically slapped me in the face.

"How can we tell whether our efforts at parenting are motivated by reliance on God's grace or on self-trust? How can we know whether we're trying to obligate God or serve Him with gratitude? One way to judge is to consider your reaction when your children fail. If you are angry, frustrated, or despairing because you work so hard and they aren't responding, then you're working (at least in part) for the wrong reasons. Conversely, if you're proud when your children obey and you get those desired kudos - Oh! Your kids are so good! - you should suspect your motives. Both pride and despair grow in the self-reliant heart."  Elyse Fitzpatrick

I was so convicted of the despairing section, of depending solely upon myself. Abi Kate isn’t really old enough for us to have moments yet where we revel in her public behavior as opposed to other children’s. Babies are babies. But I will remember that part as well in the coming year because I will SURELY be needing it.

This is what I’ve come to realize about myself-- having a degree in “kids” has been both beneficial and harmful for me in regards to parenting. My degree is birth-3^rd grade. I love little friends. I am comfortable with understanding milestones, gauging age appropriate behavior/expectations, and helping her reach or discover her next level of understanding. Having been around lots of newborns and babies throughout my kid/teenage years made a lot of “first time mom” things much, much easier.  I can’t tell you how many diapers I’d changed before having Abi Kate but it was a lot. I’d rocked fussy babies and know that sometimes they just cry and nothing works. Patience comes easily to me in dealing with little children because I know they’re just learning and childish behavior is to be expected. And even being a Nursing School drop-out helped in lots of areas as well, particularly in health, nutrition, breastfeeding, etc. But here’s what I’ve learned-- it is TOTALLY different when you have your own child. It doesn’t matter how much you know about child development, concern still crosses your mind in regards to your own child. The knowledge helps, but your own child is a different story. For example, I mentioned earlier that Abi Kate has been so on the go since she started walking, that she’s not interested in sitting down for a full meal. I know this is age appropriate behavior. I know that this is what toddlers do-- some meals they’re famished and eat like an adult, other meals they eat mostly air. My brain knows this, but did I still feel concerned over her when she started doing that? Yes, I did. Did I ask my been-there-done-that mom friends if their kids hit this phase to give myself a bit of comfort? You bet I did. And I have found that in raising Abi Kate, my experience is no different. I can discipline or correct an entire group of 20+ 4 or 5 year olds and not feel a bit concerned. But when it’s my own child it’s different, because I can’t apply what I did with those children to my own child. In essence, with a classroom, I was merely correcting behavior. I’m not simply correcting behavior with Abi Kate, I’m striving to correct her heart. So the approach is and must be entirely different. I naturally want to fall back into behavior modification strategies, etc. when teaching her how to better respond to a situation. But all that does is alter the behavior. It doesn’t correct the root of the problem, which is her heart. In the classroom, I needed quick results so we could continue learning and playing. I wasn’t in a position, legally, to discuss in depth heart issues with those children. But I’m not in the classroom anymore, and my calling in parenting Abi Kate is much higher than my call in the classroom. I find myself re-reading the above quote, reminding myself not to be self-reliant, to trust in the wisdom of the gospel message and in the capable, omniscient guidance of Christ.

We’re learning a lot these days as far as parenting goes. I’ve always believed that the needs of one child are different than the needs of another, that a “one-size fits all” approach doesn’t work, and that continues to be impressed upon me the older Abi Kate gets. What works now might not work later. I’m learning that we’re going to make mistakes, as much as we don’t want to. But the world will keep spinning. Abi Kate doesn’t require perfectionism from us. One thing I can say for sure-- I’m so grateful to be learning with Tommy. He balances me, reminds me that it’s ok to make mistakes, and reminds me to rely on faith. He makes parenting look easy. I’d like to say that I’ve taken all his wisdom to heart and don’t have a problem applying it. But well, I’d just be lying. :) I’m working on it….and in the meantime, I’ll just fill up my coffee mug again! Because seriously, as soon as she's awake, I'm gonna need it! :)