For Unto Us a Child is Born

In this season, we are thankful for Jesus, the greatest gift of all 

and 

for the glimpse into our Father's love for us with the gift of our own dear son.

A very Merry Christmas to you and yours!

all photos by our favorite: Photographs by Anjuli

It's making sense. [state of motherhood, three months in]

 

Almost exactly a year ago I wrote a post wondering how I would know if I was ready for motherhood. I had truly hoped that my hesitancy about parenthood would change with that positive pregnancy test, but it didn't. Less than a month after I wrote that post I was crying (NOT happy tears) at the two pink lines staring determinately up at me and really feeling like life was over. I battled fears, anxiety and honestly, regret for much of the next 36 weeks.

As it turned out, I was right. My life was over.

But it was replaced with a life that is fuller, deeper, and so much bigger than it was before. Every experience is magnified and intensified. I don't think Eric and I lacked or were at a loss before we had E, but our lives are different and truly better with him.

Lately, I have been asked variations on the same question,

"So, is motherhood what you expected?"

I have a hard time knowing how to answer that, because I don't want to gloat or sound insincere. I know for a lot of moms, it is harder, more overwhelming and more exhausting than they imagined.

But when I say that being is a mom is SO SO SO much better than I imagined, it is just scratching the surface.

All of the bad things I dreaded either aren't as bad as expected or have become totally irrelevant. A lot of the things I was worried about not being able to do, we can totally do (this is coming off of a four-hour plane ride with a three-month-old after five days of family chaos, which we all survived really well). We can still travel, go out with friends, and have fun. And what we can't do right now, I hardly miss. I know we'll do those things again!

  

  

Before E arrived, I just knew that I was going to hate parenting an infant. The poop and the crying and the blobby-ness and not knowing what I'm doing. And then that infant that I had wrestled with for months and shared my body with and wished away more than a few times, was placed on my chest, I was just in complete wonderment. I was in love. Suddenly it didn't matter that I don't like infants in general, we had OUR OWN BABY HUMAN. Who needs me and knows me. That first wave of realization that I was it - the mama, the nurturer, was a game-changer. It still is.

I love being a mom.

  

And E. My sweet baby son. I could write pages and pages about the way he intertwines his little fingers and unfolds them again so that he always looks like he's cooking up a devious plan or really worried. The way he burrows his head in the crook of my arm and rubs his face until it's red trying to get just the right kind of comfortable for a nap. The desperately excited look on his face when he is trying to talk in response to Eric or I.

The love I feel for this kid is limitless and overwhelming. It's more immense and joy-filled than anything I could have expected. I have no idea what I'm doing. And at the same time, it makes perfect sense.

  

This is the kind of crazy talk I would roll my eyes at before I became a mom, so if you need to gag, I GET IT.

Motherhood just has a way of changing you...

 

A latte more love...

We are excited and overwhelmed to announce that our family is growing...

Somebody pinch me — it doesn't quite feel real (and I forgot to wear green today)!

More to come.

Knowing when (to have kids, that is)

 

Me with my 2-day-old baby nephew Gideon in July

 

Now that I have a job and E has a job (Oh, I didn't mention! E has a job. he's a pastor. at our home church that we love. Praise God!)

As I was saying, now that life is a little more settled—we know we're staying in the San Diego area for the long-term and we're in our fifth year of marriage—the inevitable questions are coming up about kids.

I don't just mean from other people (though I have been hearing it from my family and friends more often) but also between E and I. It's funny how the thought of children hardly enters your mind for years, until it does. And then it's oh, hmm, maybe we should think about it. And then,what are we waiting for again?

I guess we're at a point where I don't have good excuses for putting it off any more. I mean, I have excuses. I know we'll never be ready—emotionally, financially or otherwise. And we know we can never completely prepare for it. But if it happened now, we wouldn't have to move back in with our parents.

Last year I wrote about feeling left of out of the mama club. Not that I wanted to be in it, but that I was starting to be really cognizant of the great divide between mom and non-moms. I'm still not sure how brave I am to enter this world.

When I think about parenthood I think of a lot of never-agains (quiet dinners out, and movies, and Europe trips, and sleeping in). It's hard to remember that we'll still have many good years after children, and that the freedom eventually returns. And it's hard to realize that the good things that kids bring into the picture could (maybe?) make up for all the things we'll lose. (Because—what if NOT?!)

I have a lot of fears. But one of the biggest and maybe the silliest is that I know that being a mother is a relatively thankless and marginalized job. And my ego reeeeally likes attention.

I am looking forward to some aspects of motherhood—seeing the world for the first time through the eyes of a mini-me seems kind of exciting. And E was born to be a dad—I can hardly wait to see him with our children.

But I still feel pretty meh about the whole having-a-baby thing. Most of my mama friends got bit hard by the baby bug at some point. I'm beginning to think maybe I just won't. (For what it's worth, I'm told this feeling will change when a baby is actually on the way.)

grandpa

My beloved grandpa Howard died last Saturday.

There are a lot of things to write about when it comes to death. The helplessness of watching a loved one in pain. The gruesome process of dying. (It's ugly and not at all beautiful, like Walt Whitman tried to make us believe.) The fact that few care when a grandparent dies (because he's older, and he's lived, and all of us have experienced the death of a grandparent already so get over it.)

 

I feel the loss of my grandfather as deeply as I would my sister. I will miss him terribly.

I looked up to grandpa more than anyone else I have ever known. But as I looked up to him - he encouraged me to look further up, to Jesus. There was no one who had spent five minutes with grandpa who didn't hear about his Christian faith. I know there are probably quite a few people reading this blog who don't believe in God at all, and this post might make you feel uncomfortable. But I can't talk about my grandpa without talking about the God who made him the man he was.

His faith in a all-powerful and loving Creator and Redeemer made him a joyful, selfless and grateful human being. He had been forgiven much and he loved much, and he showed that love to some of the most rejected and downtrodden people in this world. On a weekly basis he visited with prisoners, terminally ill, the fatherless, the widow, the lonely, the rejected, the mentally disabled. No one was a stranger to him. He brought his many friends to our family gatherings and welcomed them to his home. He showed genuine love to his wife of 58 years even when his marriage had disappointments, and he didn't feel like being loving. Sacrificial love defined his life.

My grandpa was a man of prayer who woke up before 5am every single day to pray for all those that God had given to him for ministry. His family members, his church family, co-workers, and the countless people he would meet on the highways and biways. I can remember that even as a little girl sleeping over at my grandparents, I would sneak downstairs in the early morning hours to see my grandpa poring over the bible, and praying. He told me every time he saw me. "You are loved and you are prayed for - every single day".

He never had money, nice clothes or nice things, but he gladly gave to everyone who asked because he set his priority on more lasting things.

The reason my grandpa could be the extraordinary man that he was - a man who was well-loved and well-respected, who showed up with a smile to help, who gave what little he had away, who told everyone he met "you are a blessing" (and meant it!) - was because of the extraordinary God who loved him first.

So, in this time of grief, I am sad only for us who will miss him. Because he is in his heavenly home, rejoicing.

The mama club

I keep trying to blog about things I think I should be writing about, like what I've been up to for the past few months - what I've been cooking, wearing, where I've been traveling etc. But none of that has been motivation enough to write lately.

Suddenly yesterday I had an epiphany - why not just write what's on my mind? I know that sounds silly and obvious, but it was a freeing realization to just write what I've been thinking about lately.

So, what is on my mind? Incidentally, the topic of babies. I was talking to E the other night about how we have gotten together with couple friends (new and old) a lot more frequently lately, but that I have been the only imbibing female amongst every couple we've spent time with this summer. Between friends who are TTC, expecting, and lactating, I'm feeling a little bit out of the club.

E and I are in the stage of starting to talk about growing our family in a more real sense, with a real timeline (involving years); still, we're not quite ready. But there is something about all my friends having babies that still makes me feel a little left out. I mean, my mom friends are impressed by my knowledge of the physical effects of pregnancy, birth and post-partum, (this is primarily because I have been reading too much OMG Mom), but it is also evident I'm not able to relate to what has changed for them emotionally and turned their entire lives around and upside down.

Maybe this goes without saying, but I really want to stay friends with all these ladies as they become mamas. I think I'm just having a hard time adjusting to their new normal and figuring out how to maintain a relationship that includes my time and love for their babies, but also adult time to talk about non-baby things. It feels a little awkward, like the start of a new friendship.
 Do I suggest we go out baby-free? Do I offer to come over and help them around the house?
How do I talk about my day-to-day work and married life with them, when it doesn't seem nearly as significant as creating and nurturing a human life?

I know a lot of my friends are on the other side of this and maybe struggling as well to maintain healthy friendships with single or childless friends. So please weigh in - I would love to hear what ladies on both sides feel about this!

Sharing my blog with friends and family

[This is becoming a week of blogging about blogging. Thanks for reading!]

More (and more and more) lately I've been thinking about my blogging anonymity. Over three years ago I started this blog to record my wedding planning, and I told a select few friends and family about it who checked in every once in a while. But after the wedding was over, I couldn't stop writing. I was loving the creative outlet and getting to know so many amazing blog friends; I had forgotten (chose to forget?) that I'd ever told anyone in real life about it.
I loved the freedom to write beyond the trivial - about my marriage, family relationships, life and faith. Things that I generally wouldn't mind people knowing - but things that I wouldn't overtly share among most family, friends and acquaintances.

In order to protect my outlet here, I started a 'family' blog where I just posted pictures and generally surface-y things so my family and facebook friends could keep up with our life in California (since it is so foreign for most of my Midwest circle). But by this summer, I was habitually reposting the light content from Latte Love (read: photos and "what we did this week" stuff) to my family blog and filling in a few details, because I didn't have the energy to keep up with both.

When we got back from Italy, I stopped posting on the family blog altogether. It felt so repetitive, and while a few people may have missed it, I don't think there was much interest in it that Facebook updates weren't filling. I continued to hope that Latte Love was fairly anonymous from my IRL community.

But between the summer and now, four different acquaintances have told me that they discovered my blog completely randomly: though searches, my guest posts on other blogs, or link-ups I've participated in. My professor's wife even somehow found my style site! Most had no idea that I wrote or kept a blog and were really surprised to find it.

It's hard not to talk to people I know about something that is a part of my life - both the writing, and the relationships I've formed here. But when I do mention a blog friend, or a DIY project found on a blog, or a comment I received, it often leads into an uncomfortable conversation that goes something like this.

"Oh, you blog? I didn't know that...?" *looks expectantly*

"I do. But I don't feel comfortable sharing it with personal acquaintances"

"But isn't it public on the internet for anyone to read?"

"Yes it is. But most people I know don't know about it, and wouldn't know how to find it."

"Oh." *awkward pause*

So, why don't I just tell my family and friends about it?
There are two big hang-ups for me when it comes to sharing this part of my life. The most obvious one is that once I share this place, I'll have to be a bit more guarded and censored about how I write about my relationships with family and friends, my marriage, and certain things that might affect E or our family in future church ministry.

The second reason might sound a little strange. But my other apprehension is that people I know will read this blog and feel like they don't know me. Admittedly, I've changed a lot in the last 2-3 years. Getting married, moving to California away from my whole community, and starting this blog - in addition to just getting older (and wiser, I hope!) - has changed me. It's easy for me to relate to family and friends as myself-of-a-few-years-ago when I go back to visit, but its sometimes hard for me to reconcile the me of three years ago with the me now (who's still evolving), when it comes to long-time friends and my family. My habits, tastes, and hobbies have changed. My lifestyle is really different. I've been able to share those interests here without reserve, in a way I haven't felt as free to in real life. (Blogging has influenced or enhanced some of those changes!) Opening up the blog makes me vulnerable.

While I'd never plan to tell everyone I know, or post the link publiclyon Facebook, the idea of more openly sharing it with people close to me is looking like an inescapable reality.

So, friends, as I'm considering this decision I'm wondering where you are. Did you share your blog with your IRL circle from the beginning on facebook, etc? Do a few select friends know about it? or would you never, ever share it with people you know?

How would you feel if your circle found your blog?
I'd love some advice as I navigate these waters!

Goodbye, old friend

I wasn't going to blog about this. Just mention it on Twitter, have a good cry, and move on.
But you guys blew me away again with your ability to empathize and understand. (Thank you a million) So I know I'm in good company.

My parents had to put our family dog of 13 years down yesterday. Truly, it has been a long time coming and while sad, it isn't tragic. When I got to visit them last month I saw how worn down she was. Not in pain, but incontinent and nearly immobile, especially in the back half of her body. When I said goodbye, I knew that was the last time I would ever see her.

I was ten years old when we picked Shadow up from the local animal shelter. My mom was a softie when it came to dogs...she had desperately wanted one growing up and her parents told her she had to wait until she had her own house.

We all fell for Shadow instantly; I'm sure you can see why. Her nameplate read "Clarissa" (poor dog), but as a 5 month old puppy, we knew we could train her out of it.

She has always been the sweetest, calmest dog. When she got annoyed or frustrated, she would just leave the room. It's hard to describe the relationship you have with a family dog - I'm sure its different for everyone. I wouldn't consider her my dearest friend or closest companion. She wasn't my dog, she was always our dog.

But I also cannot imagine not having her there when I go back to my parents. Letting me stick my annoying cold feet under her belly. Making her jump over our legs propped up on the coffee table. Teasing her with a bit of leftover steak so she would catch it when we toss it across the room to her. Watching her bound through the first snow of the year with so much excitement you'd never guess she'd already been through a lifetime of winters. But laughing because two weeks later she'd be to fussy to walk more than two feet into it to pee.

Looking at this picture I took just six weeks ago I can't believe what an old lady she looks like.

"Heaven goes by favor; if it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in."

 -Mark Twain

We'll miss you, Shadow.


P.S. Here's a heartwarming story about a man and his dog.

Happy, Happy

Today is E's 26th Birthday



Husband,
Today we get to celebrate your life (I might be more excited about it than you are!) Thank you for being supportive, but realistic. Thank you for washing the dishes and mowing the lawn (chores I hate!). Thank you for working hard, and leading by example. Thank you for serving me in love and gently encouraging me to do the same. Thank you for making me laugh when I need to lighten up.

I love you my strong, gentle, patient, diligent, silly, wonderful  husband.
Happy Birthday.


[ps. have a happy weekend you guys!]

New Family Traditions

Because I did a lot of thinking about it last week, I'm going to be writing a bit more about being away from home. It's taken me a couple years to start to understand how I feel about it.

Maybe some of you didn't have the same reaction I did to moving away. I grew up in a family where almost everyone lives within 30 miles of each other. One of my cousins moved a couple hours away for college and stayed there, but I'm the only one of my family members to be a plane ride away from home. I can't make it to get-togethers, sports games, or special occasions. And I regularly feel guilty about it.



At the same time, in the three holiday seasons that E and I have been engaged or married, we've spent them all in Chicago with my family. Mostly because E's extended family isn't very close, emotionally or geographically, and my family is.

This year we booked a cruise for later in the winter, and knew there would be no way to also fly out to Chicago. Besides, E hasn't been home with his family for Christmas day in three years, and I never have celebrated Christmas day with them.



I am already feeling sad over not going back home this year. My extended family also has a guilt-inducing tendency - even though it's all in jest. I always knew the day would come when new families would be established and the extended family would naturally start to drift apart. I just didn't think I'd be contributing to it! For some reason, it is just now (over two years after I moved) feeling like its time to stop worrying about being gone. There is a lot I'll miss, but also a lot to remember.

Plus, this is the perfect opportunity to start thinking about traditions we want for our family holidays. E had resisted a Christmas tree the last two years, with the excuse that we'll be out of town on Christmas day...so this is my year to convince him. Last year we felt really overwhelmed at the prospect of buying each other gifts so we procrastinated and ended up with unwrapped Amazon packages and empty stockings. We decided that the next year would be different.
We'll make a big dinner together on Christmas Eve for just the two of us. We'll buy affordable, thoughtful gifts and spend lots of quality time together. We'll talk about new family traditions and maybe implement a few.

It will be different, but I'm actually really looking forward to our Christmas.

(ps. It feels a bit weird for me to be writing about Christmas today. It is 100 degrees!)

28 years

Happy 28th Anniversary to my parents who are a true inspiration.

Thank you for creating a wonderful family life, and a wonderful example of marriage by God's grace. I love you both!

ps. their 27th anniversary

Mama visits San Diego

When I knew E and I were going to be apart for five weeks while he stays in Italy, and I had to return home for work - I called up my mom and asked if she wanted to come out and spend a weekend in July. It all worked out last minute, and it was so nice to have her here!

My mom and I are really different - I'm much more similar to my dad [it was funny to hear my mom say "wow, you are your father's daughter" during the trip] but there is something so comforting about having your mama home with you.

Italian-style dinner on Thursday Night (antipasti, primo, secondo, followed by alcohol/espresso)

my grandpa also came out to visit, and he spent most of the weekend with his brother who lives in Inland Empire (about 80 miles from me), but we got together for dinner on Thursday and Sunday

Saturday in Seaport Village

Grandpa and his brother

he is the best.

I'm again reminded of what a blessing it is to have a family like mine.