Enough

Ever feel like you just can't quite live up to all the "shoulds" in your life? I'm having one of those days. Or weeks. Or months. I feel like there are so many areas of life in which I'm supposed to reach a certain standard, and no matter how hard I try...I'm just not. quite. enough.

As a woman:

I am not skinny enough. 

I am not fashionable enough. 

I am not happy enough. 

I am not enough. 

As an employee:

I am not creative enough. 

I am not productive enough. 

I am not dedicated enough. 

I am not enough. 

As a mom:

I am not patient enough. 

I am not selfless enough.
I am not organized enough.

I am not enough. 

As a wife:

I am not understanding enough. 

I am not domestic enough. 

I am not sexy enough. 

I am not enough. 

I don't know where I've gotten all of these arbitrary standards I feel I should live up to. Magazines? Social media? Friends? My own crazy head? I know some of them are unattainable and ridiculous, but some of them are real. The challenge becomes sifting through all of the expectations and figuring out what is true and what is false. Where I need to push myself more and where I need to give myself gobs and gobs of grace. Because as much as I would like to write off all of these statements as simple insecurities and needless worries, a lot of them are very real responsibilities and callings I need to answer to. And it's hard. It's so hard, to have so many people need me to be so many things. 
 But the idea that I'm not enough? That's the truth. I'd love to write some girl-power statements about how I'm more than worthy, and flip all these statements to feel good "I'm wonderful because I'm me!" sentiments...but the truth is, I'm broken. I'm weak. I'm imperfect. Yes, I have a ton of admirable qualities, and I'm probably even better at a lot of things than I give myself credit for, but in the end...I will never be enough. I will never be good enough to not let people down. I will never perfect enough to avoid disappointing myself. I will never be the best at all the things. I will never have family and friends satisfied by my every move. There will be days when I'm at the top of my game, and days when I should have just stayed in bed, but in either case- it still won't be good enough in comparison to the perfect standard that Christ has set. But because of Him. I don't have to achieve it. Try as I might, I'll never set myself aside as often as should or love people as well as I should (I'm pretty sure He doesn't care about the whole skinny part...) but it's ok. Because He is enough. And in my weakness, He will be made more. 

2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

And so I boast: 
I am not enough.
I will never be enough.
Thank God.

Finley Faces: 3 months

A mere ten days late...and I'm ready to share Fin's three month update! (In my defense...she came exactly 10 days early, so I'm technically right on time!)

I feel like 3 months is one of the first great milestones in the life of a babe. It's the transition from newborn to infant, so I while I was antsy for what is to come, I still tried to soak up the newborn-ness of it all as much as I could. 

Fin continues to be just the sweetest baby. She's full of smiles, and is on her way to giving us a true giggle. (I can't wait for that!) Her "skills" aren't super impressive (sorry Fin!) but I think that might be more of the "second time mom" in me saying that, rather than an actual deficiency in her development. With Piper, every single thing she did was a first, so I was constantly looking for milestones and markers to achieve and check off. This time...I'm more relaxed about the journey. I've felt guilt at times, like I'm not as invested in Fin's development, but I've come to feel that it's a good thing. I may be tracking less, recording less, striving less....and enjoying more. I figure she'll roll, and sit, and babble, and crawl soon enough. For now, she's little, and squishy, which might not make her super talented, but it sure makes her snuggable. And that's pretty much the best thing a baby can be.

So we're enjoying hearing the beginnings of her coos and soaking up her smiles. I'm trying to steal away moments for quiet baby play, even when there are a hundred things (and people!) screaming for me to do. I'll nurse her extra long, just to cram in some additional cuddles while she'll still allow it. We hold and rock her a teeny bit more than we should...just because she's little, which seems reason enough. She gets the short end of the stick sometimes, being the second baby, but her mellow spirit means she doesn't complain. And though she may not always get all the attention and instruction that a first baby would, she's reaping the benefits of parents that have been around the block once before- who know the value of letting babies be babies, without excessive pressure to get on a schedule or line up with the achievements of peers. 

She's a doll baby, and as much as we can, we're trying to slow down to just love her. A difficult, but simultaneously effortless task. 

---------

We love you, Fin, and are grateful it's you who joined our family. Your sweet spirit is nothing but a blessing and you've already taught us so much. I'm sorry we don't read to you more, or bathe you often enough. I promise we'll make it up to you with continued unconditional love and heaps of snuggles. Oh- and that crazy little blonde girl who's always in your face? She loves you something fierce, so thanks for tolerating her attempts to "mother" you, even when it looks more like smothering. You're kind of irresistible, and this 3/4ths of the Bowden clan is so happy to have you as the newest piece of our pie. 

---------

Check out her previous mug shots: 1, 2.

Life Lately: The Rambling Edition

I'm working on my- don't over think the blogging- thing. But as much as I'd like to sit down to write little updates here...I just haven't had much time. Ok, strike that. I have had a little time, but I've been using it for other things. Like raising babies, and making ducks. But mostly...watching Friday Night Lights.

  (These pictures are related to nothing...but they're pretty cute, 

so consider them the photographic version of rambling.)

Dustin and I started watching the series from the beginning on Amazon Prime, and we're pretty much obsessed. The show is awesome, but more than that I've been enjoying the idea of even being able to watch a show at all. For a while, we were consumed with the newborn-ness of it all, and her erratic sleep patterns meant we were up constantly. We were on call for baby duty at all hours, so the idea of a "bedtime" was sort of out of the question. Not to mention the fact that when she finally did go to bed, we would follow immediately after. Something shifted recently, and we've been able to put both girls down in the evening and have a little time to ourselves before we have to crash. There is still the inevitable late night round of baby care, but there is a fairly predictable lull between laying her down, and needing to feed again. We do have a million things to do in this two hour window, so we scurry around prepping lunches, cleaning up, starting some laundry, or getting some more work done that the day didn't allow. But when that's done, we've had the blissful gift of alone time again. A few minutes where no one is bouncing a baby or quieting a toddler is still a novelty that we don't take for granted, and while we should probably be rekindling our romantic passion, or having deep heart to heart talks, we're just as excited to watch 42 minutes of online programming without interruption. Oh- and a glass of wine doesn't hurt! 

So…all that to say, I haven't really done an update here. I tend to wait for big events, or at least some sort of themed narrative idea before I blog, but I'm learning to be ok with a stream of consciousness approach. I love when I have time to pour my heart out regarding a particular topic, but I also know I'll be happy I spent a few minutes detailing the mundane things too, even when I don't have time to edit and rewrite it to literary perfection.

I recently caught up with an old friend via Facebook message, and realized that the few paragraphs I wrote her during a 3AM nursing session was basically a blog post without the blog. So without shame- I will repurpose it here, as our current "Life Lately" update.

---------------

Hiya!

How are you? I miss you, lady!!

I just went back to work last week, so that's been an adjustment. It's mostly good, but it is really hard to get used to everything again after stepping out. A bit of culture shock. Plus it's hard for me to check myself, and not ramp up to giving work everything, when this is really a season where it needs to take a bit of a backseat. That's not my strong suit, but I compromised my life for a lot of years...I shouldn't compromise my family without their choosing. I'm sure I'll find a balance, but it's not easy! It's one thing to be a working mom, it's another to be a career mom...I definitely want to keep learning and growing- I'd just like to do it within a strict 9-5!  

Aside from all that, the little people are just awesome. They are more work than anything I could ever imagine though. The level of sacrifice is staggering, and everyday I'm pushed to care about myself less and other people more. Good for me, but oh so hard. I love them tremendously though obviously, and they are super snuggly and fun. Piper is almost 2, so she's hysterical and adorable and smart. But she's also demanding and stubborn and exhausting. So it's a bit of "the best of times, the worst of times" with her. Hard to enjoy every minute, as it's a lot of work to guide her little heart and mind all the time. But she has a smile like no one I've ever met, so when it's good- it's real good. Fin is the sweetest ever. You can't not like her, and as babies go- she's pretty easy. But it turns out babies are never easy- so we're pretty much exhausted most of the time. But that gets better each week and we're finding our rhythm. 

Dustin is still the bees knees. It's been insanely hard to keep focused just on us, while we're in it so deep with everything else- but we're still working hard at it, and trying to keep it all in perspective. 

So- all in all..:I'm incredibly happy. And supremely tired. And stretched to my limit at times, but also starting to see the light as to why I wanted to be in this mess in the first place. 

Whew. Thanks for reading my massive brain/heart dump.

Your turn!!!! Tell me about your life! I desperately need an update! It's been waaaaaaay too long!

xoxo,
Courtney

-----------------

Feel free to use that last line as a personal invite to comment…Chime in and tell me what your life lately is like!

-----------

Linking up with Blair!

Deja vu all over again

Remember a couple months ago when I compared the girls' baby pics?
Well it's time for round two.

As a refresher (without all that pesky archive visiting...), here are the girls around 1 week:

Left: Piper //  Right: Finley

And here they are around 12 weeks:

Left: Piper //  Right: Finley

Ummmmm....what?!

A: stop with the growing. I want to squish them both down so they can snuggle in the crook of my arm. Forever, and ever, amen. 

B: Mini-Piper, much? It's kind of freaking me out.....I knew they had some resemblance, but I didn't think they looked that much alike. Seeing them side by side though...It's pretty undeniable. They're sisters alright. 

I've started to notice their similarities more and more. Other people always told me they saw it. Especially if Fin was asleep (causing her cheeks to relax and look a little more full), or making the signature Bowden frumpy-face. (They come by it honestly...but it doesn't come from me.) But I wasn't so sure. They just seemed so different to me. But as time went on, I would catch glimpses of Fin that were the spitting image of Piper. I can remember identical expressions, or similar snapshots from their early days. And as hard as it is to describe- I would always say that Fin looks like what Piper could have looked like as a baby. I didn't think they always resembled each other tremendously when compared at the same age, but I could definitely see the sister-ness in them at their ages now, and could picture how Fin might grow up to look even more like Pipes. 

Fin does still have her own look though. Her head is still...ahem...normal sized (compared to the noteworthy noggin her sister boasts), and in general she's just a little more....twee. I don't know how to describe it. She just has a little bit of elfishness that can't really be put into words. It just is. (and is adorable.) She not a small baby (though she is smaller than her sister by a bit at each milestone), but something about her still seems delicate. And I know I'm biased, but I think she might just be the most precious thing ever.

  

I just can't put into words how lucky I am to have these two little mushroom-clad bundles of joy. I might have to stop taking these pictures or I'm going to want a filmstrip's worth of Bowden girls. But judging by these two, maybe that wouldn't be so bad after all...

---------

If you're interested, you can check out Piper's growth, side by side here.

Show your real: Cally

Cally is sharing today, and I love that she took the Show Your Real prompt and applied it to her specific area of focus- work, faith and blogging. Cally has such a interesting perspective, examining the intersection of faith and career...an area that is challenging for so many of us- including myself- to navigate. So often, those two things seem isolated- especially for those of us who work in the secular industry- like our work pursuits are somehow separate from what God has planned for us. But there is so much to learn, and so much value when we allow Jesus to lead in our careers, as well as any of our passions. I identify so much with Cally's struggles to feel relevant, focused and appreciated. And I'm excited to have her unique voice here today. 

------------------------------------------

Thanks for joining me here today as I “show my real!” My name is Cally, and, as Courtney mentioned, I blog over at Uncompromised Vocation. I’m a young professional and international business graduate student living in Boston, and I’m passionate about social impact. I’m also passionate about people finding their passions and using them for good. These two things together are the underlying foundations for my blog. 

  My “Why I’m Writing” tab says it best: I’m writing for those who have dreams and passions to have a greater impact in the world. I’m writing to encourage other young professionals who are looking to define their passions and turn them into meaningful careers. I’m writing for those in a season of waiting, who are fighting for contentment and direction in their current jobs while figuring out what it is they really want to do.

Your faith and your vocation don’t have to be mutually exclusive. In fact, faith should inform and be the driving force in finding your vocation. I write to encourage people to pursue something with passion and conviction, or as I like to call it, an uncompromised vocation.

I’d describe myself as a passionate person. I’m also constantly searching for inspiration in things all around me - not just for my blog, but for life in general. I love to be inspired. I’ve found, however, that when it comes to blogging, it is both a blessing and a curse. Currently I’m in a season where I’m finding difficulty maintaining consistency with my posts. Some of it comes from self-doubt: not believing that I have a meaningful voice to speak into peoples’ lives about faith and vocation. Not believing that my words or experience carries any weight with the people I’m writing for. But some of it also comes from trying to go in a million different directions all at once. Perhaps you could call it a lack of focus, but it’s more like trying to focus on several things at once.

Blog content. Blog design. Should I redesign? What social issues to I highlight? Do they even have a place? Trying to find direction with my own career. How do I articulate that into my own blog? How deep do I dig into scripture when I share it? Several thoughts are constantly swirling around in my head every time I sit down to write a post. A few months ago, I finished a first draft of a post and realized that I had actually written three different posts all in one. Taking one idea and sticking to it has been a hard process for me to grasp as of late.

Practical steps that have helped me achieve more focused writing have been prayer and journaling. I will take one thought and pray over it, and journal on that thought alone during that allotted time. My prayers become coherent thoughts as He gives me a clear vision. It is a practice that gives me direction and peace. Because, ultimately, I want any and all inspiration to come from the Lord, right? I’ve realized how much I need to do this, personally, because it’s so easy for me to take an idea and run with it before giving it to Jesus first.

This may not be the most profound blog post on blogging you’ve ever read, but this is real. This is my current reality. I appreciate this series so much because it’s the reality of day-to-day, behind the scenes stuff that might not make, as Courtney describes it, the “highlight reel” of typical blogging. Blogging has given me a deeper appreciation for bloggers who consistently deliver quality content because I now know that this kind of stuff doesn’t appear out of thin air! Even writing this post for the Show Your Real series has helped me ponder and realize things about the writing process that didn’t occur to me before. 

I’m still learning, and I’m still growing. This whole blogging thing has been really cathartic for me, as I’m still navigating my own career and passions. And it’s always so reassuring to receive a message from someone who needed to hear exactly what I wrote about in my last post. Encouragement is my love language, and it helps keep me going. But what I need to learn to do more is give myself grace for the moments when I find myself saying I should be writing this or I should be doing that. Because blogging about things we’re passionate about should be a source of joy, not of guilt and duty.

------------------------------------- 

Show Your Real is a bi-weekly series of guest posts centered around the concept of authenticity. The goal is to encourage each other to expose the reality of our lives- good and bad- and to foster a sense of community that goes beyond the often suface-cy interactions of social media. We invite all of you to participate! Please comment, link, and hashtag to spread the showyourreal love. If you would like to contribute a guest post in this series, please email me! 

Duck Daycare Dynasty

We survived the first three days with me back at work.

And by survived....I mean just that. Fin didn't eat much. I didn't actually work much. But we all successfully got up in the morning, did the daycare drop off thing (I only forgot someone's lunch twice), put in our time, and made it home to slog through the evening routine of cooking, eating, bathtime, tatrums, cuddles, and sleep. And then we did it two more times.

So I'm not exactly an authority on this whole working mom of two thing. But we're making it work. And I know it will continue to get better.

This week is the real deal. It's a full five days, and I think the novelty of me showing up will wear off quickly, and I will actually be expected to accomplish some things around the office again. So if last week was a gentle wade into working waters...this week is we're jumping in with both feet.

So I wanted to start Fin's daycare career off on the right note. The teachers all already know us, but there is a whole new crop of babies in her "class", which means new parents as well. I know Fin won't exactly be making friends, but she will be spending a lot of time with them, so as much as possible, I'd like to make a good impression. We haven't had a ton of interaction with other daycare parents (it's not like there's a PTA) but it's nice to at least know who goes with who, so we can share the occasional commiserating glance when we deal with meltdowns at pick up, and they don't hate us too much if we end up being patient zero in the next flu outbreak.

Enter: gifts.

There aren't many things you can do for babies...but I've found that toys are always a winner (no food allergy risk), so rubber ducks are starting to be my go-to move. For Halloween last year, Piper gave her class Spooky Ducks. This time around, I found some nerdy ducks that were dying for a little "welcome to daycare" note.

Aren't they hysterical?

I made little cards to go with each one. Dumb pun on the front. Silly note on the back.

 

 

 Daycare name withheld to protect the innocent. 

Pretty quick project, but I'm hoping it will give other parents the impression that I'm friendly, I care, and I'm a huge dork who tries entirely too hard, and is desperate for others to like me. 

I kid. Kind of.  

Nothing says "overcompensating for leaving your kids all day" like a themed craft for infants.

Either way, I think they're adorable.

Happy Monday guys. Hope it's just ducky!

Maternity Leaving

Welp. We had a good run.

Twelve weeks. Well, twelve weeks and two days, actually. 

There were times when I thought it might literally kill me, this whole mom of a newborn (again), thing. And though I've been trying hard to savor every moment (like the well meaning, but guilt enducing old ladies at the grocery store tell me to) there's a part of me that has also been counting down the seconds until we hit twelve weeks- what I consider the first real infant maturity marker, that (God willing) brings with it more sleep, and an easier schedule. But somehow now that we've made it, I don't feel ready. Weeks ago I prayed for time to speed up. For her to grow up. For us to just somehow survive to this magic tipping point where the newborn-ness fades into regular infant-hood. And somehow...that point has arrived. But even though it feels like she's been here a lifetime (she has...her lifetime) it also seems like it's all been a blink. I couldn't possibly have a twelve week old. It couldn't possibly be time for me to leave her.

I had a vision for this moment in my head...what our lives would look like at twelve weeks...and the reality isn't exactly lining up with how I pictured it. She's still getting up multiple times a night. She still won't take a bottle. She still likes to be rocked a certain way before all of her (many, very short) naps. In short, she's still a teeny tiny little baby. My teeny tiny little baby. Not someone who should have her own (tiny) backpack, getting ready to be shipped off to "school".

And for my part, I'm a bit of a baby too. I still cry over the smallest things. I still get overwhelmed by caring for the girls. I'm still chubby. I still have unfinished projects. When I think about what I wanted to look like (physically and emotionally) at this stage...I don't picture who I am now. I'm still brand new at this. Not someone who should have their laptop bag by the door, ready to re-enter the rat race.

And yet....it's time.

............................................

Twenty-two months ago I was profoundly changed. I went from being regular Courtney (ok....super-round Courtney) to being a mom. And it was more than just adding a baby on my hip. I was physically changed. I was mentally changed. I was softer. More sensitive. More vulnerable. Weaker, but also stronger. Yes, motherhood had given me a squishier middle, but it also made me squishier inside- emotionally.

And then, almost three months ago, I changed again. I was already a mom. But I became Fin's mom. And I was made squishier still. (Yep...physically and emotionally). Motherhood has a way of making you feel all the things, and becoming a mom again made me feel everything two fold. I've never been so exhausted, discouraged, tested, humbled, or needed in my life. But I've also never loved this much. When I think back on this time with my new girl (as well as my first girl), I recognize all the hard times, but I remember all of the joy.

So I'm sad. I'm horribly sad to be leaving my girl. I've cried big mama tears every day for a week, whenever I even thought about dropping our babe off for the day. I cry because I'm worried for her. I cry because I'm scared for me. I cry because I'll miss her.

And as much as I'll miss her, I'm going to miss us. I'll miss our routines. I'll miss our mom's group. I'll miss nursing 10 times a day (a few weeks ago I never thought I would say that). I'll miss mom and me yoga. I'll miss scrolling through my phone and seeing 47 pictures from each day's adventures. I'll miss afternoon naps (a lot). I'll miss her sweet, swaddled, snuggles.

I'm going to miss the lightning in a bottle that was the Summer of 2013. The Summer of Fin.

I was stretched to my limit this Summer, and I've come out of it with some battle wounds, a bit of knowledge, far too many mistakes, and a whole lot of experience. But most of all, I've come out of it with a precious daughter, and eighty-six days of memories made together.

............................................

I love you Fin. A whole, whole, lot.

Bronzed

Today is our wedding anniversary. 

Eight years. 

I should have prepared a lovey dovey post telling you all about how Dustin is still my dream man, and the best thing that ever happened to me. (He is both of those things.)

I should have gone through photos of the last eight years and prepared a retrospective slide show of how our love has grown and changed over the years. (It has done both of those things). 

I should have gotten my act together to procured the world's most meaningful card, and elaborate gift. (I did one of those things.)

I should have at least looked up past years' posts so I could link to a time when my brain functioned a bit better. (Um...check the archives...)

There are a lot of things I should have done. There are a lot of things I should still do. But the truth is right now...we're in the weeds. Not in an "I don't love you" kind of way. More in an "I love you so much but I can't seem to find time when we're both awake and not holding a fussy child, to show you that love" kind of way. So our celebration this year won't look like the past years. No big trip. No fancy dinner out. Let's be honest...I might not even get to shower today (oooh, the romance!) All of the "shoulds" may not convert into "dids". Because right now were surviving. Not necessarily thriving. But we're still plugging away at this forever thing, for better or for worse. 

The traditional gift for eight years is bronze, and I think it's appropriate. It's a material made up of two different metals, blended together, with traces of other elements mixed in. (Thanks Wikipedia!) it may not have the prestige of a gold medal, or the blinding shine of silver. But it's strong. And long lasting. And beautiful. People dip keepsakes in bronze when they want to preserve them forever. Statues are cast in bronze for a rich look. 

Our marriage isn't perfect. We are not the best of the best every day. Our love doesn't always gleam with pristine shine. It's a blend of the two of us, with traces of our environment and circumstances mixed in. And sometimes it's dirty. Or a little dull. But thank you Jesus, our love is also strong. And enduring. And pretty dang beautiful. 

We've worked hard for this bronze medal love, and there is no one in the world that I would rather run the rest of the race with. There will be years we celebrate our anniversary by strolling the white sand beaches of Fiji (right Dustin?!?) and there will be years when we celebrate by taking shifts shushing the kids back to sleep while muddling through a fantasy football draft (big plans tonight!). There will be years when we knock each others socks off with elaborate fanfare (right Dustin?!?) and there will be years when we look at each other with empty hands but full hearts and say, "All I have is me. Big, messy, imperfect me. But I give it all to you." Some years are full of fruit. And some years are full of labor. But they are all so very, very full of love. 

Happy eight years Dustin Bowden. I pray you'll keep me around for another eighty. I love your big, messy, imperfect self, and thank God everyday that you continue to show up to love me every day. 

The first photo we ever took together. If he can fall in love with a gym clothes clad, headscarf wrapped, naive baby like me...then we might just have a chance at  thing after all. Spit up covered clothes and all. 

Show Your Real: Rebecca

Rebecca is another real life friend of mine, but I knew of her blog before I knew her, so as a result, I call her Happy (from Happy and Co.) a lot more frequently than I call her Rebecca.. If you've ever read the comments here on Bowdenisms, then you've seen Happy. She is a faithful reader, which of course plays into my ego, but more than that she is a supportive and encouraging friend. She always has a kind word to share, a story to relate, and a witty way to look at things. I knew I wanted her to share her perspective for this series, but I also knew that it might take some convincing. First- I had to get her to take a break from reading one of the seven books she is always concurrently engrossed in (girl reads more than Oprah)  and second- I had to convince her that she had something worthwhile to share. Happy is a humble soul, and doesn't always see how funny, creative and thoughtful she really is. But I knew if I could get her to agree to it, people would be blessed by what she had to say. Lucky for all of us, she took the risk and is opening up here today. 

----------------------------------

Nine years ago I was a single, working girl who wore strappy high heels, visited Starbucks twice a day, had fancy salads for lunch from Bravo, and read volumes of books in my evenings under the roof of my parents’ house.  (Not everything can be glamorous and I wasn’t one for the night life unless it involved a good book and a warm cup of tea whilst snuggled under my covers.)

Then I met a guy.  And in the vein of being real, a year later I had his baby.  Another year after that I had a second of his babies.  A year and a half later, I had a third and quit my job to take care of these little rascals we kept producing.  (Was it the water?  I’ll never know…).  Did I mention he had two children from a previous marriage?  I promise it was not as Jerry Springer as it sounds and that there was a wedding in there somewhere, even if the word shotgun comes to mind when it is mentioned.  

Thank you, Jesus, for your grace and forgiveness and for using our messes to bring you glory.

To sum it up, I was single with no kids and then had three babies in four years and inherited two (totally awesome) step-daughters in the same amount of time.  I went from having a full time job to staying home full time. Today I am mom to Noah (age 7 ½), Caroline (age 6), and Katherine (age 3 ½) as well as step-mom to Hannah (age 16) and Abby (age 15).  I was somewhat hesitant to share our real when Courtney asked as I personally find it almost terrifying at times.

I would rather stick pins and needles in my eyes than wake up before ten a.m. so that right there should speak volumes about our days.  We are a slow to rise, late to bed family.  It is not unheard of to see/hear our children up at ten p.m. playing rambunctiously and sawing logs well past nine in the morning.  Breakfast these days is whatever everyone can serve themselves as I quit breakfast duty almost as soon as I weaned them all off the breast.  I am more of a lunch and dinner mom.  Sometimes I wish we were more productive earlier in the day and it sure would help during the school year when early mornings are quite literally the bane of my existence. During those months we quite simply put, survive.  (I am optimistic that this is our year to shine in the a.m. hours, but only time will tell the sordid tale.)

In fact while on the topic of our “routine” I hesitate to say we have one.  Are we talking about the routine we have when it is just me and the little kids?  Me, the little kids, and the big kids?  Or all seven of us?  Our routine varies depending on how many members of the family are taking part in the routine on any given day.  Our “routine” is going to pick up Hannah and Abby for the weekend or for a few days or for a few hours depending on the schedule and then taking them back to their mom, which is hard on all of us because we miss them when they leave.  Our “routine” is that Derek is usually at work (someone has to bring home the bacon as these kids don’t pay for themselves), but most Sundays find the house bursting with the activity of seven people getting ready for church in one bathroom.  Our getting ready for church routine itself is a testament as to why people need Jesus.  

As a step-mom to two teenagers, things can get “real” real fast.  Hannah, our oldest, is learning how to drive.  It is an exercise in faith to hand over the keys to the car (and our lives) every time we go somewhere so she can “practice.”  I am constantly fretting about an accident and telling her to “slow down.”  (Thirty-five is an acceptable speed limit for highway driving, is it not?) 

After harping on her constantly about paying attention to what she is doing and being cautious, I backed our van into a low lying, but large piece of concrete today while parking.  I am sure it won’t be mentioned next time we get into the car to practice just as I am sure I won’t spend a hundred dollars at Target on nothing next time I go in there with my little ones, one of who is bound to be wearing a tutu over her swimsuit with her Disney Princess snow boots.  I am a mom who chooses my battles carefully and I choose to go to Target, wardrobe issues be darned.  I also choose to say, “Drive as I say, not as I do.”

Being a step-parent means I literally share the joys and burdens of parenting with three other parents.  Wanna get real?  Try parenting from another parent’s perspective all the time.  I respect and admire Hannah and Abby’s mom and refuse to be that step-mom who breaks the rules and says, “It doesn’t matter what your mom says, go ahead and get that tattoo!  It looks awesome!”  Luckily, she and I share the same fundamental thoughts on parenting and have great communication.  Every once in a while I get blindsided by a moment of indecision, not being one hundred percent certain of which answer I should give or if my opinion is truly needed or wanted and wonder if I should just look the other way and raise my own kids.  I never end up going with that thought simply because I love Hannah and Abby as if they were my own (until they come home all tatted up) and could never imagine just not caring.  But it is real that sometimes I think I should let the “real” parents parent.

As for parenting children I actually gave birth to via natural channels (when I worked I signed up for Aflac and the Aflac representative was constantly referring to my births as through or by “natural channels” as opposed to unnatural channels I don’t know, but it always made me laugh and cringe in equal parts)…

A few weeks ago the little ones and I were in the car on a particularly long jaunt and my three year old declared she had to go to the bathroom.  I stopped at a Burger King and the four of us ventured into the place where every mother’s soul goes to die:  the public restroom.  I hate taking my kids into public restrooms so much that I have stopped actually going into the stall with them.  It is better if I don’t see them licking the toilet seat, but know that when they brush their teeth (when, not if, we have some code of conduct) they will brush away the germs.  Mother of the year, yes, here I am.  So I stood outside the stall waiting for Katie to be done touching every surface and playing in the toilet water going to the bathroom when she said, “Mommy, let me out.  I can’t open the door.” 

I calmly reminded her she needed to unlock it first, but she just responded with, “I can’t.”

While I was trying to describe to her how to unlock the door, my seven year old decided to take matters into his own hands and he crawled under the door and into the stall.  (Why didn’t I think of that?)  Before he could unlock the door, Katie let herself out the same way he went in.  As their bodies slithered on the germ laden floor, I contemplated just throwing their clothes away when we got home and bathing them in a bathtub full of Purel.  After a sketchy (at best) hand washing session we were on the road again, but not without leaving a few speckles of my brain matter behind.  

While my life has changed drastically in the last ten years I cannot let go of one vice:  reading.  Bravo can keep their fancy salads and I certainly do not miss wearing high heels every day, but without a good book to end the day with (or if I am being real, to dive into throughout the day for intervals of solitude and sanity), I would never survive.  I need to read words, to live vicariously through others and in other times almost as much as I need fresh brewed iced tea or diet coke to fuel me through my day.  (Okay, and Jesus too.  I need Him the most, but I am always putting more worth on caffeine than the Holy Spirit to get me through each song and dance.  Real.).  So while some women feel the need to create something in the forms of crafty projects, I must escape into the pages of a novel for that sense of inner sanctuary.  (Real:  I am terrible at reading things that would truly encourage me during this time of life and instead opt for fictional tales that serve no purpose beyond entertaining.  Babywise?  Nope, never read it.  The New Strong Willed Child?  No thanks.  I know I have strong willed children and prefer to escape their strong willed-ness, not delve into the why’s and wherefore’s of it.)

The single girl in the strappy high heels sipping her venti black iced tea must be laughing all the way to wherever it is she goes without her very own entourage of kids who will inevitably need to use the bathroom when she gets there.  She has no idea how good she has it, how simple and carefree (and clean) her life is.  She also has no idea how great the messy, real stuff is she has coming in the future.

------------------------------------- 

Show Your Real is a bi-weekly series of guest posts centered around the concept of authenticity. The goal is to encourage each other to expose the reality of our lives- good and bad- and to foster a sense of community that goes beyond the often suface-cy interactions of social media. We invite all of you to participate! Please comment, link, and hashtag to spread the showyourreal love. If you would like to contribute a guest post in this series, please email me!