Pollyanna and Christmas

My sister tells me my blog is too much like a “fairy tale” and that I sound “too positive” all the time.  I probably am kind of a Pollyanna.

The truth is, I do struggle in life (who doesn’t?)– for me, it’s my battle with weight and depression. Do I often write about my troubles? No. When I feel inspired, I write. When I feel passionate, I write. When I’m sad, I don’t tend to write. And maybe if I did, I’d feel better sooner. Now that it’s been brought to my attention, I will try that (thanks for the constructive criticism, Sis). In her words, my positive outlook probably isn’t “popular.” Perhaps I didn’t feel like the world wanted to hear more about the mundane problems in my world– counting calories, feeling hungry and deprived, yet again frustrated when a pair of jeans don’t fit….or the fact that some days I question every life decision, want to lie around all day, or feel weepy for no apparent reason.

But here’s the thing….people probably don’t mind hearing about these less than perfect moments and feelings because they can relate to bits and pieces, or maybe even all of it. I am many things…but definitely a relater. I feel warm and fuzzies when someone can think, “I totally know how that feels.”

Without intentionally doing so, my sister made me realize that people (who even read my blog) aren’t bothered by negative posts, but instead interested because in a sense, they may feel like they aren’t alone. No, you aren’t alone….I consider it a huge accomplishment when I can say “no thank you” to dessert offered to me.

Today is Christmas day, and because Christmas is so special, I must end on a Pollyanna note:

Three Christmases ago, Jordan proposed marriage with a beautiful ring and adorable puppy.

Two Christmases ago, we were settling into life as newlyweds.

One Christmas ago, we were expecting our first child.

And this very Christmas, we celebrate life and Jesus’s birth as a family of three with a beautiful, healthy, almost one-year-old little girl. God is good.

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Growing Up Too Fast: Pausing the Precious Moments

So everyone said it…”enjoy this time…they grow up too fast.” It’s true….

The baby stage is quite intoxicating. A new mom is love drunk. Drunk with joy, drunk with happiness, drunk with (exhausting) sleep deprived bliss….the kind of fatigue that makes you surprisingly wired.  But she is also engrossed in all those “firsts.” First smiles (both gas grins and the real deal)..first roll overs (intentional or not)…first teeth…first solid foods….first waves…first kiss…first words (“mama” or “dada” cannot come soon enough)…first crawl..first steps…they do grow up fast.

You never fully understand what those moms with good intentions ever mean until one day, it hits you. Yes, they do grow up fast.

There are certain things that bring me back to my daughter’s first few days of life…Johnson Johnson Lavender bath soap and lotion…the lullabies on her little swing on the living room floor…the tiny newborn diapers and sleepers she grew out of much too quickly (I confess that I let her wear footsie jammies that were much too short for a little while because I wasn’t ready for her to graduate to the next size)…the mysterious pacifers hiding under couch cushions and ottomans….they do grow up fast.

I vividly recall moments in my new mommy days when I asked myself, “Will she EVER want to be detached from the boob?” And now I’m asking, “Will she EVER not being getting into so much (potentially dangerous) stuff? Baby-proofing is impossible!

The truth is….it does go by fast. It was today that it hit me. Although she is growing fast and I become nostalgic with the lavender baby soap and lullabies on the swing, I also look forward to experiencing much more in the future…first day of school…first (lost) tooth…first bike ride…first dance…first love…firsts.

Yes, sometimes it all does seem to go too fast…but  rather than dwell in nostalgia for the infancy stage now gone…I know there are much more precious moments to fill up my soul…

Cheers to the firsts that have yet to come. They too will come fast, but that’s ok.  Like a pause button, the memory of them will stand still in my heart.

Violet 9M (1)