Strongholds

So this is how Faith and I have been spending our time lately. I'm not sure who is more addicted to sling use...she or me.

I think she wins, as my shoulder by 8:00pm is a little worn (not the sling's fault, we've just be using it THAT much over the past few days, and I wasn't switching shoulders.)

And while this isn't the best picture, one of those "Well that really didn't work." photos, I think it speaks volumes about my life at the present:

No staging involved. I just happened to notice the irony of the photo once I really looked at it. See that book in the background? That's my workbook for my Bible Study that I haven't been able to attend or do in weeks. It is called "Breaking Free" and the series is written by none other than the wonderfully talented Beth Moore. The study is about breaking free of your strongholds so that you can focus on Christ.

At the time I started the study, I honestly couldn't think of any major strongholds that were standing between me and my Maker on a daily basis, and I was curious to see what insights Beth might be able to provide me with (as I'm sure there are strongholds there but I'm just ignoring the elephant in the room). The picture captures it all. The pacifier laying on top of the book like a lead weight. Myself attached to another lead weight. My stronghold isn't a "what", it's a "who"! (I do say this with tongue in cheek).

Ken and I affectionately call Faith "The Dominator". Right now, she is the dominant allele in the family (remember biology class?). I have been doing Bible studies for almost three years solid. And even though I don't wish to be without them, the Lord knows my little Faith and her giant needs. And I know there are great lessons to be learned in everyday life. But, oh... I do miss my studies and quiet time with Him.

The Magic of The Sling

I have mentioned before the use of a sling in our house when toting Faith around. After using it almost daily, and having an epiphany at the beginning of this week, it is clear that there are two levels of sling use. The first level is simply learning how to use it, and use it comfortably with your baby. Baby may fight it a little, but she falls asleep and seems content. The second level, however, is the creme de la creme; it is the magic.

It is the moment you discover "the position". And that is the position, that instantly puts them at ease. And the key is, it may not be any of the positions you see listed with the sling directions. Faith is her absolute happiest when she is upright on your shoulder, however this is difficult to mimic with a sling. After some working with it, I found this week that I could achieve this feel for her if I wrapped her in a thin micro fleece blanket (which makes a very comfortable lining for her) and then used a modified hip carry. The blanket acts as a booster so she is closer to my shoulder and face. It also keeps her neck upright, which is further supported by the sling. The last "key" for us was to place her feet off to the side inside the sling, so they didn't get caught up underneath my hips.

When I found this position, it was so clear to me that this was a keeper. She instantly quieted, there was no "I'm squished Mom" sounds, and she fell asleep in minutes. The sling is now such a part of our routine after a week of finding this new position, that it is her preference for lulling to sleep. It has also almost eliminated the fussy time we were struggling with in the evenings. Faith has probably spent at least three hours in the sling a day. The funny thing is, she likes to hear the sound of dish clatter, and the laundry, and buzz of routine. She wants to be where the action is. Those noisy sounds and the feel of Mom close by are the comforts of home.

Before, I used to rock her, and rock her, and sit, and rock some more during the fussy time. She wasn't interested in nursing, which baffled me. Turning off the lights and playing nice music didn't seem to quiet her much quicker. And she still struggled. One night I sat with her for two hours just trying to get her to settle for bedtime. But I've learned that isn't what she wants. What Faith wants is the feel of deliberate movement, and the din of bedtime routine with the children, and household clean up chores. So the sling allows me to do the dishes, and the laundry as I would have those nights she was still soaking in the womb. And instead of the additional settling of Faith after all of that, she has already long since settled, while lo' and behold, I've been tackling house work!

Yesterday, Ken and I had the opportunity to take some time for ourselves and go on a date out to dinner while our church has a program that provides our kids with a movie night and pizza party. Faith, traveled with us out to dinner, and it was a test of the sling. The date fell right during her fussy time, and Faith let us know just how much she hated her carseat the whole ride there. By the time Ken and I got to the restaurant, her diaphragm was shuddering with her inhales, and I was worried that our date was going to tank. Ken went inside to get us a table, and I took her out of the carseat and placed her in the sling, and got her in "the position". Instant comfort! Faith was a dream the whole date, and slept in the sling for almost all of it.

Faith also nursed in public for the first time, after her catnap in the sling. Faith detests nursing in public places. Perhaps I was able to read her cues sooner because she was so close to me.

So the second test is church this Sunday. I'm ditching the 10 ton carseat, and eager to see if the sling allows me the ability to hear the entire sermon without making a beeline for the exit.

Instead of Gray Hair, I Get More...

Whiskers. Yep. I'll admit it. I get those "things we do not speak of". Woo! That's a tough confession.

I'm pretty sure a new one pops up for continuous battle each year. It started in college when I discovered that a weird hair was growing from a scar underneath my chin. It didn't freak me out as I thought the problem was really the scar. Maybe a damaged hair follicle. So what did I do? I plucked. There, whisker gone.

Now, 10 years later, I have 10 whiskers that I daily scope out to see if any have reared their ugly heads again. They're crafty, those suckers. There is nothing worse than coming home after a day among friends to discover a gnarly whisker gleaming in the light. Either I miss them, or I think the more likely scenario is that they grow with steroid fury just to spite me.

Then there is the thumb check: An absentminded glide over the chin in the middle of the day to feel for those obvious stand alones. When I find one, it is an instant problem. They're usually just long enough to be a menace, but not long enough to get a good grip with the thumb and first finger. So I end up just wiggling it back and forth like a loose tooth, wishing I had a tweezers nearby.

Ken and I have a pact for our old age. He promises to pluck my whiskers when I can no longer see straight, and I'll be there to help him out with those other "things we do not speak of" on the tops of his ears. That my friends, is love.

So, you may be dreading that occasional gray hair, but fear not, someone out there is worse off, wiggling stumpy whiskers.

Motherhood: Patience & Denial of Self

I was just reading this post by Candace from Laughing Daisies. It is a wonderfully honest post that deals with the struggle between self and motherhood. We've ALL been there as mothers, and yet we can feel so alone with our thoughts. Motherhood is THE training ground for Patience and Denial of Self.

For example, take "sleep". Unless I want to plant my children in front of a video game for 2 hours, taking a nap during the day to make up for lack of sleep just doesn't happen. The thought of letting my children be babysat in the afternoon by a video game every day doesn't sit well, so I don't usually nap. And when all the kids are finally down for the night, I'm tired and spent, but I want to stay up until 11:00pm just to get a couple hours of ME time before I start the day again in the morning. So of course, by the time I am nursing Faith at 3:00am, this decision bites me in the rear, and sometimes 80% of me wants to cut her off and pull her away from her nourishment just so I can crawl back into bed. I still want my ME time of this and that, but if I was a little less selfish, I'd get my rear in bed at an earlier hour.

And then there is the "F" word. FAILURE. The mother-who-can't-pull-it-all-together. The other day I found myself trying to hand sew on 4 large patches for Jack's Tae-Kwon-Do uniform an hour before he was supposed to test for his yellow belt. I had been scrambling all morning, we were to be at the gym by 9:30am, I was dizzy from not getting any breakfast, and trying to sew on stinkin' patches with a needle and thread while my littlest sensing my tenseness struggled and fussed at the breast. With only minutes left to get the patches sewed, I tossed the uniform aside, and settled Faith for better nursing time; announcing my surrender with, "I can't be friggin' SuperMom today!"

And then the ENEMY saunters in, trying his best to muddy the waters even more. I haven't been able to attend a Bible Study with my favorite group of Women in the last two weeks because it falls right when my little Faith has her fussy time. And I'm on the leadership team, so I feel like I need to be present. In addition, my quiet time is out the window, so I am now two weeks behind in our study, and I keep returning to this stupid idea in my mind that if I can't pull my quiet time back together, the Lord will cease blessing me with children. It is a completely ridiculous and illogical thought. But it buzzes in my ears with the word "Failure" echoing in the background.

I'm not sure where I am going with this post. Honestly, I have forgotten my point entirely. Perhaps that IS the point. But then again, that is what becomes of a blog post that is written by a mother who should be in her bed, but doesn't want to because she wants her ME time. Even if it is mediocre ME time.

*sigh*