It’s time for another round of Build ‘Em Up and today we’re talking about being confident about the choices we make as parents. Link up with Kelly, Erin, Courtney and myself to share how you stand confident in the choices you make as a parent.

Pinterest, Mexican Barbie, breastfeeding and bottle feeding, rear or front facing, just a few of the many topics I’ve seen argued over the past few months. It starts with (what should be) simple parenting choices and finds a way to spill over into every other facet of our lives. Is Matel making Barbie politically correct these days? Did some mean-spirited, over-achieving mother create a website designed to make other mothers feel inadequate?

And on and on it snowballs out of control. So out of control that it sometimes feels like we need to take a side on every single thing that comes along.

I can’t help but think we might be raising a generation of defensive children, rather than a generation of confident children. A generation who will come at every choice with an argument as to why they are right and you are wrong.

Because that’s what we’re showing them.

How do we change that? How can we break the cycle of defense and debate that surrounds our choices as parents?

I think we can do this only by showing confidence in our decisions. Social media plays such a huge role in our lives. With one swipe of my phone, I can scroll through a news feed that includes parents from every part of the country and from many different socioeconomic backgrounds. Technology puts the choices of thousands of other parents at my fingertips. It’s easy to get caught up in feeling guilty or judgmental. In these times, I always try to keep in mind that we’re all incredibly different.

But, most of us have one thing in common; we’re making the best choice for our children, we’re doing what we have come to know our children need or want.

If that is the case, if we’re making the choice that is truly the best for choice for our children, in our own situation, there is no room for debate.

It’s important to own the decisions we make as parents. I remember when I switched BK from front to rear facing a month or two shy of her second birthday, I didn’t want to discuss it with anyone. I knew there would be backlash and snide blog comments. I didn’t switch her simply because I thought it was more aesthetically pleasing for the car seat to be facing forward. I switched her because for the week prior, she would scream and cry every single time we went anywhere in the car. She would crane her little neck to try to see what was going on behind her. In this situation, I truly knew it was best for her to be front-facing, it was best for anyone in the car, too.

And when someone would ask, instead of telling them when I switched her, I would tell them that whole story first.

I would defend my parenting choice. A choice that didn’t need defending.

I have a three-year-old now, and I know that she picks up on every little thing we do and say. That her mood is affected by our moods, that her feelings feed off of our feelings. This defensive attitude is not something I want to pass down. I want her to see that we make choices based on what is best for us, not because we worry about what others might think. I want her to know that there is a time and place to stand up for what she believes in, to be confident in her choices, but there isn’t a time to make others feel bad or less because it’s different than our way.

Today, I want to encourage you (as I’m encouraging myself, too) to confidently stand behind the choices you make as a mother, to refuse to believe that all choices equal debates.

For today’s Build ‘Em Up were talking about coming unglued and how we cope. If you haven’t read Lysa Terkeurst’s book, Unglued, I highly recommend it. I sat nodding my head through most of the book and I was truly inspired by Lysa’s words. She is a talented writer with a big heart, she’s giving away an Unglued prize package below. You don’t want to miss this. Be sure to check out Erin, Kelly and Courtney’s blog today and visit the others who have linked up, each Tuesday that we link-up I am encouraged and inspired by the posts. 

When I think about my unglued moments, I think of my life in the same way I pack my suitcase. I’m the one sitting on top of the suitcase, trying tirelessly to zip it closed beneath me, sweating. Just as I get it zipped and whisper a thank you to the zipper because it didn’t burst at the seams, I spot the rest of my things in the bathroom. I haven’t packed a single ounce of make-up, no curling iron, no brush. Nada.

I sometimes get caught up in these cycles and I begin to live my life much like I try to pack my suitcase. If I can just fit everything inside, just get it to zip, if I can just tuck everything away, then it will all work out just fine. Never mind the bursting seams, they haven’t actually ripped yet. I should be able to make it just fine. I pile everything inside and it works for a little while. I’m checking ten hours worth of things off of a to-do list that I managed to complete in under eight hours, because that was all of the time I had left.

Then, I catch something out of the corner of my eye. Something I didn’t get to finish, something that was bigger than I had anticipated, something that was left out.

The seam rips, and this is the point in which I generally come unglued.

When I’m packing, I have an easy fix. I simply walk upstairs to the guest bedroom closet and get the next size up. Life doesn’t work the same way, the fix doesn’t seem so easy in the midst of the problem. Emotions are swirling, tears are coming, and sometimes there isn’t a clear and easy way to solve the dilemma. Instead of playing it cool, I tend to let my emotions get the best of me. I say things that I don’t really mean, I let the people I love most absorb the shock of my out of control emotions.

Just last Friday, I left downtown too late and found myself right in the middle of horrible traffic. I didn’t plan well, I tried to fit in one too many things and I paid the price. Also, I had no idea how to get home. Allen calls in the midst of my chaotic moment and I tell him where I am, he offers a quick fix, but then I miss the exit he tells me to take. Traffic is horrible, I just need to say that again so you understand my frustrations. Horrible, y’all. I get off on the next exit, to get back on the interstate and wouldn’t you know, I chose the most congested exit known to man. Apparently, the exit that all 18-wheelers had to get off at, too. Oh, and in the middle of missing my exit, I tell Allen (not so kindly) that I have to get off the phone with him because he’s causing me to be even more lost. Yes, the one person who was trying to help. Sweet Braylen is saying over and over that she needs to tell me her ABC’s, and I’m panicked, at a standstill and lost. So this is what I say to her: Mommy can’t listen to your ABC’s right now because your daddy got us lost in a scary place. 

Yes, I did.

What went wrong? How did that seemingly perfect Friday turn into an emotional disaster in a matter of minutes? I let emotions get the best of me and I took it out on two people who had absolutely nothing to do with my poor planning and non-existent sense of direction. Then, I had nearly 40 minutes to sit in traffic and think about my unglued moment, while BK slept in the backseat. I felt bad, I was kicking myself, I knew better than that.

For me, there isn’t a one-stop fix for my emotionally unglued moments. They happen sometimes, I always walk away feeling defeated, even if there isn’t anyone around. You better believe something is going to be on the receiving end as my seams unravel. Like that time I couldn’t figure out why the dishwasher wouldn’t close, but I was running late for work, so I shut it over and over until I saw that the handle to the pot had moved just enough to catch the edge of the drawer. Thankfully, those crazed moments are few and far between, but they are just as hard to deal with afterwards.

Here’s the thing I’ve learned, anytime I come unglued I have two choices. I can learn from it and do better next time or I can let it weigh me down and carry it with me. I used to do the latter, that’s where imperfect progress comes into to play. I’m getting better, I’m not perfect, but I’m making progress. In my crazed, emotional-charged states, I’ve had some powerful prayer sessions. What I know now is those moments don’t define me, how I react to them and how I learn from them are what is most important to my progress, albeit imperfect.

And yes, I let her sing me the ABC’s as soon as she woke up. Lucky for me, she doesn’t hold a grudge.
 

Lysa TerKeurst was so kind to donate a prize package. Just leave a comment on this post and I’ll randomly choose a winner from the comments. There will be one winner chosen from each blog so you can also enter on Kelly, Erin, and Courtney’s blog. Prize bundle includes Unglued book, Unglued devotional and key tags.

The book is SO worth the read. You can get the bundle at a discounted price here. 

It’s Tuesday morning, and time for another round of Build ‘Em Up with Kelly, Erin and Courtney. This week we’re talking about remembering you and taking care of yourself and keeping your identity. When things get busy and life gets overwhelming how do you make time for yourself?

Your life will never be the same. 

Yes, I know. I heard that phrase over and over during my pregnancy. In fact, it was thrown my way so many times that when I would hear that phrase, I would mentally check-out. In my head, I was preparing a to-do list and nodding my head politely, while the person talking took on the speaking voice of Charlie Brown’s teacher. It was always some variation of the classic pep-talk people love to give expecting moms. I use the term pep-talk loosely because my morale was never actually raised in the process.

Looking back, you know what I wish someone would have done differently? I wish someone would have looked me straight in the eye and said something like this:

The nights are going to be long, the tears plenty. That first phase will be scary and full of uncertainty, but it won’t last. You’ll find yourself again, you’ll smile more smiles than you ever imagined, you’ll love deeper than you’ve ever known.  Sure things will be different, but the world isn’t ending honey, your season is just changing. 

I’ll be sure and tell that to myself next time, actually. Those first few weeks and even months were scary and unexpected. I truly felt like I had left me behind when I became a mother, and I would never be able to fit into her clothes again. And maybe I believed that. I was immersed in this role, and so caught up that it began to completely define me. The problem with motherhood being all consuming is that it becomes easy to let our other roles fade into the background a bit, it becomes even easier to let ourselves fade into the background.

When we forget about ourselves, we forget about the little things that make us happy. Because when we think about the things that made us happy before being a mother, we think about things that we didn’t do with our children. Where is the middle ground? That’s tough, because there is no model of perfection, no perfectly balanced scale that you can use to base your decisions. I want to share with you, a few things that helped me find myself and evolve as a mother, yet keep my identity in tact.

1. Find something that is yours. I mean, really yours. Some people have a love for running or yoga, maybe baking or playing tennis. For me, I love to write and share on this space. It’s mine and I don’t consult with others on it or answer to anyone about it. I don’t have specific time lines (unless I accept them) or restraints on my writing. It’s a great space to come and share what’s on my heart, or what I’ve been working on in the house, or a party that I planned. All things that I love and sharing them becomes an added bonus. Here’s the catch, take it seriously. I’m not talking about blogging specifically, I’m talking about whatever it is that you do for yourself. Negotiate times and don’t put yourself last every day.
   
2. Take care of yourself and take time for you. Sure, I can’t do all of the things I did before I had a child and give time to everything else that is deserving. The dynamics have shifted, my season has changed.  At the same time, I can’t completely let myself go either. You know what they say about when mama ain’t happy. I have things that are non-negotiable like getting my hair done (I just schedule it in advance) and the occasional pedicure. Taking time for myself was instrumental. Whether you stay up late at night or prefer early mornings, take some time for yourself. It can be mindless reality television or online shopping, baking a technical dessert or reading a book. Anything that allows you to check out of caring for everyone else’s needs and listen to your own.
3. Give up the guilt. I still struggle with this some days, I’m not even sure where it comes from most of the time. I always feel better in the end and that’s always better for everyone else. We put immense pressure on ourselves as mothers and use other peoples words to project guilt onto ourself. Everyone has different needs and parents differently, listen to your heart and decide what’s good for your family. You have a friend who never takes a girls night? It doesn’t make you a bad mother because you do anymore than it makes her a bad mother because she does. Our needs are different, our seasons are different, our hearts are different. I had to step back and really assess the source of my guilt. Was I doing anything to feel guilty about? No? Then I was probably letting my emotions get the best of me.

Sometimes it’s impossible to keep everyone else happy, but you can keep yourself happy and that will impact the happiness of everyone around you. Don’t forget about you. 

It’s time for another post in the Build ‘Em Up series with Kelly, Erin, and Courtney. This week the topic is, The Joy of Playing With Your Kids. I love this topic and I am looking forward to gathering encouragement from each of your posts, too.

When I was pregnant with Braylen, I had visions of tea parties and baby dolls. When she was born and I watched her tiny body sleeping soundly through the day, I was simultaneously struck with a conflicting need for her to remain this small forever and for her to quickly get to a point of interaction with me. Slowly, day-by-day, I watched as she went from a sleepy newborn to a baby who put everything in her mouth to a toddler with an imagination that knows no boundaries. We are here, in this princess-loving, tutu-wearing, tea-party-having, moment and it is unlike anything I imagined it to be.These days playing is full of adventure and imagination. We go on bear hunts and crawl under (yes, under) caves, she asks me to read Fancy Nancy only after she has put on her tutu and heels, and she makes the best purple play-doh peas you’ll ever eat.

It’s unlike anything I imagined in more ways than one. If I’m being honest, it has taken me some time to really learn how to play with her. I’m a seasoned multi-tasker, I know it’s not a good thing to do or a great mindset to have, I am certainly a work in progress. I check email and fold laundry all while some show I recorded weeks ago is playing in the background. I used to be bad about organizing things in the playroom or sneaking over to her room to put her laundry away, while I was playing with her. My attention span is short and my mind is constantly wandering to other parts of my life, other places on my to-do list, while I should be pressing play-doh into cupcake molds. I’m a product of a technology driven, social media focused culture and for a while I was okay with that. Until I was checking Twitter in the middle of putting a puzzle together, until I was spending time trying to get a perfect shot to share on Instagram in the middle of building a tower out of blocks.

It became very clear to me that I wasn’t playing with any kind of intent. I was sitting beside her, but  I wasn’t playing with her.

Truth be told, I was half-heartedly playing with this amazing little person who deserves much more, who deserves all of me. I started to carefully evaluate my time with her, to free myself of distractions, I would literally leave my phone downstairs. When I started playing with her, and I mean really playing by engaging and using my imagination, I started to really learn from her. I watched as her little mind wandered from toy to toy in the playroom, as she took on different roles. First, a chef cooking me anything I desired, then a princess with a magic wand, then a engineer building tall towers.

Playing with her, uninterrupted, has taught me so much. There is so much joy in a room where a child is playing. It’s a welcome break from the stresses of life, from the rush outside those walls. She isn’t aware of anything else, she is full of happiness and her carefree spirit becomes contagious. It’s hard to take life outside those walls seriously when you’re wearing a toddler-sized tutu and a flashing pink crown. It’s hard to worry about anything that has to be done later, when we’re sneaking around the shrubs outside of our house, searching for a bear. There are things to-do and dinner to cook waiting when play time comes to an end, those things aren’t going anywhere.

But, the real joy comes in the conversations we have in the middle of playing. The conversations in which she tells me about her day or asks about mine. When we talk we’re building something, and we aren’t using blocks. I often lie awake at night and talk with Allen about the funny things she says or does while we played. When I reflect on the day, it isn’t the loads of laundry that I completed or the things I checked off my to-do list that bring me joy, it’s that moment when she said something I’ll remember forever, when she touched my heart with her sweet words or actions. 

Like the time she stopped playing to lean over to me and say, Mama do you know why I am smiling? ‘Cause I am your Braylen. 

I am so excited to join Kelly, Erin and Courtney this morning to bring you Build ‘Em Up. Today we are talking about Bringing Faith To Life. 

I remember looking at Braylen, before her weight was even registering a double-digit reading on the scale, and feeling an overwhelming sense of responbility. I remember the emotions washing over me like a flood, and I almost felt the need to say, wait, I’m not quite ready. When I talk about responsibility, I don’t mean the changes that it would bring to our social life or my sleep. When I talk about responsibility, I mean the responsibility of raising a child, of teaching her to be kind, to have a good heart, to love others and to love Jesus.

These past three years have increased my faith in ways I never thought possible. And you know what? I was ready, all along. My biggest worry was how she was going to turn out when she grew up, but God doesn’t require me to figure those things out. He simply requires a life reflecting faithfulness, a life that shows her a love like Jesus gives, and letting go and giving the worry to him. My faith has to come alive each and every day, no matter what, because I have two blue eyes that watch my every move. I quickly learned the only to teach her, would be to show her through my actions.

I was raised in church, but I don’t think my faith really came to life until I was living it on a daily basis, out loud. It took the birth of Braylen to put things into perspective. To fully understand what it means to live in faithfulness, to put faith in God, that while I can’t always be with her, He can.  In our home, we strive to bring faith to life in everything we do. The more she sees it, the better she understands it. I don’t want faith to be limited to Sunday school and youth choir. I want faith to be a part of each and every thing we do. I want our decision to be faith-based and driven by good intentions. I want our actions to speak for our faith. So how do we do that?

By offering grace. I’m quick to ask for grace, to expect it on a particularly tough day. But, how often do I offer grace? Offering grace is something I work on daily. I’m quick to get frustrated when wait times are too long or someone messes up an order. Grace can really change you. I had to understand that it wasn’t about being passive or a pushover, sometimes grace has less to do with me and more to do with those who I should be giving it too.

By letting her see my faith in action. From simple actions like praying out loud to reading God’s word, and studying together with Allen. I want her to know that we are on the same page. She can catch him studying for something he may be teaching or wake up in the morning to us studying at the kitchen table. I don’t ever want it to be neglected, to be a book that sits on a shelf and collects dust. We read Bible stories to her and she asks questions, sometimes tough questions and other times questions that make me laugh for days. I like the questions, it means she is listening.

By leaning on God through everything, not being afraid to admit my flaws and working to make them better. Sometimes it isn’t about what she can see. Sometimes it’s about how it changes me. I’ve had to learn that it was okay to admit that I was wrong or I messed up, otherwise, I’ll never get any better. I’ve had to wise up to the fact that I can’t control everything, no matter how hard I try. The single greatest strengthener of my faith has been humility. Relinquishes the control, realizing it was never mine to begin with.

We live out our faith, but we aren’t perfect parents by any stretch, we all require grace. There are days when I am reminded that she is always watching and for those reminders, I am thankful. They keep me centered and grounded. My faith was strengthened when she came along, and I’ve learned more from her than she has from me, of that I’m sure.

Here’s a schedule of the next few weeks, I hope you’ll join us!