This Guy

This guy.

We have our rough moments & Lord knows I get frustrated, but I have to say I've been pretty proud of him this weekend. For his birthday, he decided it would make for a good memory to take the kids to a Cardinals game.

The icing on the cake was his parents and grandparents also being able to go.

Even though it would've been easy to go on in, he missed the first inning or two of the game yesterday because the kids and I couldn't check in to our room yet and he didn't want to leave us (he went to two games, the kids and I just went to the one on Sunday). As I'm sure with most parents, we've come to learn movement is slow when both kids are in tow.

You can either take it in stride or spend precious time aggravated and frustrated instead of enjoying the moment.

While he could've been impatient with us at lunch today (McCoy was sleepy and Parker is THREE), he ate lunch with us in a very busy restaurant, waited in line and then walked us into the ballpark happily.

It was our first time to ever be there so to walk with him and see a place that holds so many memories for him was something.

To top it off, he wrestled McCoy almost as much as I did during the game (every Mama knows how much that makes ya love your husband😍😘). 

Michael Curtsinger-while I don't always acknowledge it, there are moments where I'm so proud of the dad and husband you are. This weekend was one of those moments. Thank you for recognizing that this weekend was about family; about introducing our little family to something you love so much and making a memory that won't be forgotten.

After watching the game with you today (& hearing the crowd chant their love for Holliday), I can say I'm a fan.

I love you babe. Here's to a great 30th year.

Grace

The day has finally come. I'm leaving my precious babies five days a week and heading back to the classroom. I've only had one meltdown so far...but it's 5:30am. The day is young. :-)

It's going to be a good day. The sweet kids in my classroom have waited 27 days to have their teacher show up for them. That's me. I'm their teacher. Who knows how many times those babies have waited for someone to show up and that day never came. However sad I may be on the inside, I'm going to show up. I'm going to high five them, hug them, guide them and maybe even teach them something. I'd want someone to do that for my kiddos. 

I needed last year. I lovingly referred to it as my "mental health year." People (teachers) take mental health days, well after we lost the baby, I needed a little more than a year. I got it. I don't know if it was enough, but It'll have to be for now. I may not be perfectly healed, but by the grace of God, the birth of McCoy Andrew  and all those who love me, I've healed perfectly. Every time I look into the perfectly matching eyes of my two kiddos I know that. 

The name of the game this week is GRACE. Grace for myself because I'm leaving my baby boy (who so sweetly only allowed me about 4 1/2hrs sleep) and because there are abundantly too many emails in my inbox at school that after 10 years of teaching, don't make any sense to me. Should make for an interesting first day.

Grace. 

I'm going to show up though. I'm going to walk through that door and care and remember; just as I had to leave my home and my most precious people this morning, each one of those little people left their home and their people too. 

It's a great day to create a great day...even if there are a few tears involved and it stands on the backbone of a whole lot of coffee.  

It Takes Confidence

Have you ever been crazy protective of something? Like when you're a teenager and you get some awesome pair of shoes/jeans/sunglasses and there's no way you're going to let your younger brother/sister/cousin borrow them. You aren't trying to be mean. You're not! You have just really wanted the shoes/jeans/sunglasses for so long, you aren't willing to trust anyone else with them. 

Or maybe a new relationship. You aren't really sure what it is yet, it may be SOMETHING...or it may not work out...but either way you keep it close to home and sure as hell don't drag him/her to Sunday supper to meet your embarrassing storytelling aunt or dirty joke sharing uncle. Not until you're sure. Sure it'll last. It'll stick. It's the real deal. Not something you're going to shout from the rooftops and then have to take back a week later. 

I know some people are an open book. They have the confidence to share -what seems like- everything. Confidence. Sharing your life, letting people in, takes confidence. That kind of confidence is one of my weakest areas. Especially if I've been hurt by sharing too much, too soon before. 

All of this is to say, when we found out we are pregnant again after losing our precious boy, after gut wrenching sorrow, after another, almost year of trying, we didn't shout it from the rooftops. Actually when I first found out, I sat down in my closet floor, hugged my legs close and prayed to God above to be present. To help. To protect this baby and my heart in a way only He could. Right or wrong, we didn't tell anyone. We went to the doctor before we told our Moms. We had full ultrasounds before we told grandmas. We were over 12 weeks before we shared the news with Parker. We just couldn't "take it back" again. We couldn't share our greatest joy while we were holding it with the most fragile of hands, fully prepared to be shattered at any moment. 

Of course baby #3, by 14 weeks was more than showing, so the people in our every day lives had to know. Still, there was no proclamation. It was whispered. If we said it too loud it might disappear. 

As the weeks have gone on, we've become a little more comfortable. Every two weeks our doctor confirms the heartbeat. Every two weeks I hold my breath until we hear the hoof beats. At 18ish weeks kicking/physical movement finally started.  We had gender ultrasounds and still everything's ok. It's better than ok, it's been less of a roller coaster than Parker was. 

This weekend I went home and ran a race with my daughter and numerous friends and family members. This weekend, I decided it was time to stop keeping the miracle in my stomach a secret and not delete a comment about my belly or a picture that's of more than my head from facebook. I just decided (along with Mike) that it's time. It's time to take a deep breath and stand in the hope and the uncertainty that IS growing another human being. To not shy away from seeing someone on the street because they might see my belly. 

We are pregnant. Seven months, 28 weeks pregnant. Good Lord willing we will know the joy of having a baby boy on the ground in July. Parker could not be more excited. We could not be more fearfully hopeful. 

Pray for us. Remember us. And bless your heart, if your toes are currently feeling stepped on because we haven't shared the news with you sooner, try to put yourself in our shoes and understand that us protecting the presence of this baby boy was about self preservation and love...and fear. Not about anyone else. 

He's coming though. In T-minus 12 weeks, we'll have a baby brother to love. Some days are easier to believe it than others, but the kicks and tumbles along with the belly kisses from my sweet girl  help reaffirm the joy and hope that God has put back in our lives. 

Sprinkles of joy

My friend spoke last weekend about something called Morning Joy. Knowing our sweet boy's birthdate was coming up, I've been rolling that phrase around in my head trying to figure out how it fits for me, in my life, right now. 

Today, one year after Hayes Andrew was born, I think I started getting little sprinkles of it. 

This morning, in the glow of the Christmas tree, I sat rocking my sweet girl thinking about how different life was on this morning a year ago. The beautiful silver angel engraved with our son's name caught my eye and as much as it hurts to remember, I couldn't help but feel a little joy as I squeezed my girl tighter and counted my lucky stars to be the arms she runs to every day. 

I stayed busy all day today on purpose. I told Parker how much I love her a few times more than normal. I picked up my sweet babies' daddy early from work so we could go visit our son's grave and hang the cedar wreath his Mimi made for him. He needed his sister's Christmas card added to the Valentine heart and Easter egg we had left for him in previous visits. We needed to eat birthday cake...because...why would a person NOT use any excuse to make birthday cake and share it with their family? :-) 

Truth? Today has been hard. I woke up at 2:00 this morning and knew immediately what the day would hold. And I'm not going to lie, today has been tough. I think a few of those near and dear knew too because of the "just because" texts that beeped in before 9am this morning and the card left on the counter remembering our hurt. 

I realized on my way home tonight that among all of those moments I found a few more sprinkles of joy. I'm thankful for family and friends' that are family who go out of their way to remember a day that changed the very way I think of being a Mommy. I'm thankful...that I can see through the nightime sorrow and find some joy in the fact that while we had to lose him, he was born, we had the opportunity to hold him, name him and we have a place to go back to remember him. I'm thankful we can eat birthday cake in his honor every year. 

I'm thankful that while we didn't get to keep him, God still chose me to be his and Parker's mama. 

Morning joy. I'm working on it. I'm closer than I used to be. 

4 "Sing praises to the Lord, O you his saints,and give thanks to his holy name.
5 For his anger is but for a moment,
    and his favor is for a lifetime.
Weeping may tarry for the night,
    but joy comes with the morning."

Psalm 30:5-6

And just like that...

Sometimes we think about things and in our head we work it out to be something AWESOME...a chance we swear we'd take in a heartbeat if we ever had the opportunity. And then when the time comes to take the leap, to check the box, to say "yes;" we pull back. Usually when I'm ready to shy away from something I get a sick, super nervous feeling in my gut that I can't deny. That's how I know I'm about to make a wrong decision. 

Well, today when I had a heart to heart with my principal and hit send on the email ensuring my leave of absence for the upcoming school year, not one butterfly danced in my stomach. I tried to get nervous, I tried to have second thoughts but they just weren't there. Part of that, I know, is because I have the security of coming back after a year if I really want to. That definitely helps. But realizing I no longer had a deadline on my time with P and I would continue having two days with Mike every week sealed the deal for me. 

With everything I've learned and felt not only over the past seven months but since the day Parks was born, I know right here, right now, this is what's best for me; for our family. I am so very thankful to have a husband who supports the decision, a career that allows for it and a host of family and friends who stand behind me. 

Bring it Fall...I don't dread you any longer. 

Two Roads

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— 

I took the one less traveled by, 

And that has made all the difference.

Excerpt from The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

A sorority sister gifted me those lines my Senior year of college. Over the years I thought I understood the words and possibly even on occasion took "the road less traveled." While I may have traveled a few winding roads most people wouldn't choose, none of those roads were anything like the one I've been on over the last seven months. 

Kids change everything. The ones you have as well as the ones you lose and also the ones your heart dreams about having one day. A sweet friend said something over lunch that made me realize how much different the world looks to me since becoming a Mom. Time is constantly slipping by. Some people look at time and feel as if they're losing the chance to travel and see the world. I know others who are building their career as fast as they can so they can chase reirement. I respect both desires. Travel. Success. But somewhere along the way soaking up TODAY, my right here, right now took precedence for me. Our sweet babies grow and change so fast. There's such a short time that they truly need you and want to spend their time with you. It seems like life looks very different once a child starts school. Those first five years are so precious. Once those years are up, I'm not sure how long it takes for that child to look at their parents with the love and admiration they once had. Those feelings seem to be replaced with independence, friendship and boundary-pushing. :) While I don't want to miss a minute of any of it, I really, really want to soak up these first few years. 

This has all led me back to the two paths. The easy path...familiar...well lit that leads to an obviously comfortable place. Or the other one. Fairly safe but obviously rocky and much less predictable.  

I'm a safe person by nature. I want the "known." I want to feel like I did the smart thing...but I think maybe my heart and my mind are conflicting. It's like wearing a high heeled shoe on one foot and your favorite running shoe on the other. Both are shoes. Both will take you places, but their destination and the steps in between are nothing alike. 

I want to choose the road less traveled. I want the experience and the life moments that the unpredictable will bring. I want to look back when I'm 50 and know I took smart chances and stretched what God gave me as far as it could go. 

My life has taken a few drastic turns over the years. Some by choice but others by force. The forced ones, the painful ones, left the deepest marks but they're the ones I'll never forget. They're the ones that molded me and caused true growth and change in my life. The road I walk is not alone though. A strong, sturdy hand as well as a precious one filled with curiosity goes with me so this path has to be best for them as well. 

-Sometimes everything

has to be

enscribed across 

the heavens

so you can find

the one line

already written

inside you.

Sometimes it takes

a great sky

to find that

first, bright

and indescribable

wedge of freedom

in your own heart.

-Excerpt from The Journey by David Whyte

Here's to finding our way down the paths we choose and coming out better on the other side. 

Out with 32 in with 33

Year 33. A fresh start. That's what a birthday is...same kind of thing as New Years Day only it's your own personal beginning. 

I don't know if I can start fresh until I count the blessings (along with the sorrows) of the past. I have a beautiful, smart, crazy, sassy two year old little girl. I have an awesome husband. A stupid dog. I have a few really good friends. We've made really smart financial decisions. I have an incredibly supportive family. I've successfully once again claimed the title of "a runner." We've known the hope of having another child. 

Enter the sorrows. We had a small heart scare with Parker (everything is fine). We've lost a few really precious friends and family members...one of which was our son. After trying for nearly a year we found out last year on Mike's birthday that I was pregnant. After 12 weeks, perfect check-ups and a perfect ultrasound, Parker announced the upcoming arrival of her little sidekick. For really no specific reason other than God's perfect plan, I went into labor with and delivered that sweet boy at 17 weeks on December 9. He was genetically and developmentally perfect. He had his sister's profile and he had his Daddy's heart and his Mama's soul from the moment he was born. 

Now--I have to stop and state the obvious and say, I'm a worrier. Anyone who knows me well at all knows this! I think too much. I know too much. I've unfortunately wondered in the past what it would feel like to lose a child. I think that's every mother, soon to be mother or future mother's biggest fear.  To miscarry. There's really no way to describe it other than to say; instead of hope and excitement for his future, we only felt sorrow and heart shattering dread at the thought of having to bury him. Leave him. The idea of coming home and telling our too smart little girl that there isn't a baby in her Mommy's belly anymore and that her little brother went to Jesus' birthday isn't something I think I could do again. No...it was only due to some kind of superhuman strength that I got through it the first time. 

Like I said from the beginning: blessings and sorrows. 

32 was an eye opening, time to grow up, year for me. There are lots of things that don't make sense anymore and when you see first hand just how short and delicate life can be, you don't waste so much time on those things. I come home to my family as quick as I can after work. I try to say I'm sorry when I screw up. I spend birthday weekends in Branson with my family. I plan a day to plant flowers by my Son's grave with my Grandma and my Mama. 

Even though the sorrows left some really deep marks that won't ever go away, 32 made me better for 33. I have a pretty amazing husband, an incredible daughter, a Son in heaven and a future filled with a lot of hope. I know that bad times may come. I have no idea how I'll handle it...one thing's for certain though...I won't have to do it alone.