suck it up buttercup

I am so grateful for the kind and strong words I received both in comments and in emails.  I drove it home to me that everything I am feeling, is normal and exactly what I signed up for.  Every single email and comment held a nugget of wisdom or comfort, but one email in particular came from a woman in Holland who has been reading my blog quietly until now and struck a deep chord with me.  Her words were gentle yet firm and reminded me of the bigger picture.  Here is a sample:

"...My best advice is to constantly connect to the gratitude of having these children that you wanted so much and that you love so much. That they are with you - safe and healthy, in your arms. To connect to the gratitude that you are able to stay home with them, when others sometimes are not able to afford that choice. To close your eyes and feel those blessings, even if only for a second or two. But do this constantly throughout the day..."

"...sometimes the only thing worth changing is your perspective..."

"...Finally, I would be gentle with your thoughts and your words. Instead of framing the question 'How do you keep from being swallowed by your children'?, frame it without the word 'swallow'. I'm a regular reader of your blog and your love for your children shines through all the way to Holland where I live, so I hope you know I'm trying to be helpful and not judgmental. Perhaps 'How do I replenish my energy levels while my children are so young?' If you reframe your thoughts without a word that could be construed negatively, it will make a difference..."

Perhaps it was her words in combination with the heartache and worry my brother in law and his girlfriend are facing as they wait to find out the fate of their third baby girl due in June.  I feel so foolish to think I have anything to complain about.  My children are perfect and healthy in every way. I have never once had to worry about their health.  It is quite foolish of me to think a 23 month old would do anything other than spray kidney beans into every last nook and cranny of the house or for a 4.5 month old to want anything more than to be held and shown his world.   I get to spend every waking moment of every day with their little arms around my neck or legs while other moms don't have the option.  We're moving to the country when this house sells because we have amazing family willing to help us out financially.  I get to dream about the crafty space and reading nooks I will create in our new home.  I think about what we will name our chickens and what we'll plant in the garden.  My husband is a wonderful provider, a gentle man, and an ever-present husband and father.

My goodness I am a fool to think my life is anything less than charmed.


Granted, I will still have my days, but lets move on shall we.  There are crafts to be made, books to be read, husbands to be loved, kids to be played with, silly dances to be danced, shoes to be sewn, a house to be sold, weight to be lost, and bread to be baked. 

Time to come out of the post-partum fog and move on.




enough is enough.


go gently + be wonderful
e.