Oh Thou Elusive...

Sleeping has never been my strong suit. With the onset of motherhood, my relationship with sleep has changed. Isaac's ability to (sometimes) sleep through the night has brought some relief... but I still find myself awake at 5:00 a.m., waiting for a cry to stir me from my cozy bed.
It is strange how a few weeks awake every 2 to 3 hours will alter you perspective on the amount of sleep you need. Before Isaac was born, I believed I required eight hours a night and at least one nap on the weekend. Now I know I can make it with 4-5 hours and an occasional nap while he naps.

I find myself daydreaming about a Saturday holed up in bed, not leaving my retreat except to brew coffee and stock up on books.

I'm am beginning to wonder if the hardest part comes first (waking every 2 to 3 hours) so that you know, when the self-pity starts to set in: today is not the worst-I have been more tired than this!
There are many evenings when I'm tempted to be anxious about the amount of sleep I may or may not get. I love this puritan prayer from The Valley of Vision, a collection of prayers:

Blessed Creator,

Thou hast promised thy beloved sleep;
Give me restoring rest needful for tomorrow’s toil;
If dreams be mine, let them not be tinged with evil.
Let thy Spirit make my time of repose a blessed temple of his holy presence.

May my frequent lying down make me familiar with death,
the bed I approach remind me of the grave,
the eyes I now close picture to me their final closing.
Keep me always ready, waiting for admittance to thy presence.
Weaken my attachment to earthly things.
May I hold life loosely in my hand,
knowing that I receive it on condition of its surrender;

As pain and suffering betoken transitory health,
may I not shrink from a death that introduces me
to the freshness of eternal youth.
I retire this night in full assurance of one day awaking with thee.
All glory for this precious hope,
for the gospel of grace,
for thine unspeakable gift of Jesus,
for the fellowship of the Trinity.
Withhold not thy mercies in the night season;
thy hand never wearies,
thy power needs no repose,
thine eye never sleeps.

Help me when I helpless lie,
when my conscience accuses me of sin,
when my mind is harassed by foreboding thoughts,
when my eyes are held awake by personal anxieties.
Show thyself to me as the God of all grace,
love and power;
thou hast a balm for every wound,
a solace for all anguish,
a remedy for every pain,
a peace for all disquietude.
Permit me to commit myself to thee
awake or asleep.

Mother Knows Best

In case you were wondering, in this instance, I am not referring to my own vast store of knowledge (depending on how much time you have spent with me, that may shock you), but that of my mother. Really, to that of all who have come before me.

I may regret writing this out now as it seems my list is ever-expanding. (It is possible this is a Part 1) What list? Oh, that secret list that has been piling up in my head since Isaac was born. Its all the Mom-isms I never understood, or worse, judged my own mother for. I am now eating my (unspoken) words.

#1. "Vacation isn't vacation with small children."

I remember being annoyed that Mom didn't seem to be able to spend all day playing with us at the beach, even being offended when she didn't seem as rested and relaxed at the end of the day as we all had the privilege of being.

Josh and I are going away for the weekend in a few weeks and all I can think about is the amount of things I'll have to pack for Isaac, the meals that will have to be cooked, and whether or not the "fun activities," for example, bonfires and nature walks, will be cohesive to a nap schedule.

#2. "I only grocery shop at night."

Most of my memories of grocery shopping as a kid were fun. Riding in the "kid cart" (the grocery cart Dad got to push all four of us in while Mom used another for its more original purpose) and wanting to know why they put the pinto beans beside the tortillas, when obviously, those two belonged in different food categories.

When Isaac was just a few weeks old, I ventured out to Kroger to test out the family grocer-ing experience. He, of course, slept like a rock. Was I born with mommy-skills or what? About a month later, we were at Wal-Mart. The shopping experience started out like any other until baby boy woke up to find himself trapped in his car-seat. I spent the next half hour alternating between 1) sheepishly pushing my screaming child through the store while dodging looks varying from pity, to chagrin, to pure irritation, and 2) trying to hold a floppy three month old in one arm and push a shopping cart with the other. While leaving Isaac at home with Josh isn't an option every time we need food, I certainly appreciate the desire to make going to the grocery store an adults-only venture.


Oh that we could be born with an appreciation for the practical wisdom of the generation that comes before. Josh and I obviously still believe we know more than our parents -who doesn't?- and will probably continued to be humbled here and there as we move forward in marriage, parenting and life to find out "there is nothing new under the sun!"

My wonderful momma feeding Isaac his lunch. 1st time feeding my baby, 10,658th time feeding a baby.

What's in a Word?

Mundane.

What's in a word?

In high school, I believed mundane described my 12p-3p job. It was daily, repetitive, and not nearly as exciting as what I would be doing when I got off of work. In youth group we would pray fervently for God to show Himself to us in the mundane.
In (my short-lived) college experience, it was Monday-Friday and thank goodness for the weekends.

Mundane. I have come to know the word intimately.

Mundane: characterized by the practical, transitory, and ordinary (According to Merriam-Webster, individuals also intimately connected with the word from countless hours of word-definition, also known as dictionary-writing.)

I have lost much of my identity in the beautiful adventure of motherhood. I loved to be known for intense energy, busyness and, excuse the crass phrasing: my ability to “get ‘er done.” Recently, I’ve had no energy, very rarely leave the house, and have gotten very little done in the past 6 months (I may have cleaned the bathroom once or twice). I find myself calling Josh at work to update him on our day just to prove to someone I’ve done something of worth during the past eight hours.

Of course, there are many solutions to this emo-styled complaint. For instance, I could get a part-time job, start quilting or take an online-language course. These activities would at least increase the length of my to-do list.

Isaac: laughter (According to Genesis)

Would I give up my job as Isaac's mommy? Absolutely not. Isaac lives up to the meaning of his name everyday. It is my joy and privilege to take care of such a precious baby boy. However, when the nursing, changing diapers, hoping for a good nap, mothering, in general, overwhelms me with its repetition, I feel the multi-masked face of doubt creep in...

For today, where am I left? Pardon me, while I preach to myself.

Today, my life has value because I belong to Jesus and when God sees me, He sees Jesus’ life and work, not mine. There is beauty and life and joy in a daily routine because I am His and He is mine–praise the Lord!

Do I believe this? Let me read it again.