When it rains, it pours...and I love singing in the rain.

So,  if you have read all of the two posts that I have written since we moved to Wyoming, you have probably noted a sense of solitude, loneliness, despair, anguish...discontentment. Discontentment is not a new thing to me...although at times, Wyoming has received the lion's share of the blame for it's current appearance. This (discontentment) has, in fact, been the state of my heart for the majority of my life.

As a kid it whined:
Why do we move so much?
Why can't I look different?
Why can't my family be normal?

and then it nagged:
Why don't I have a boyfriend?
Why can't I look different?
Why can't he ask me to marry him sooner?

and oh, how it grumbled:
Why can't we start a family NOW?
Why can't we be like that couple (and have a boat)?
Why are we moving so much? 
Why can't we get pregnant? 

The list goes on and on, but the overall theme just SCREAMS out from the page. Discontentment.

I used to think that it was a good thing - to always be in want of something better. It gave me a goal or something worth striving for. It isn't wrong to "never settle", right?  Well "yes" and "no." It's not a sin to say, "Oh, fill in the blank would be nice." It's another thing completely to become consumed by that thought...and worse to begrudge God in thinking that He is holding back His best from you. Now, I know that not too many people will openly admit to shaking their fists at God and questioning His design for their life...we have all done it (if not physically then certainly in our hearts). But the saddest thing to me looking back on my life (full of discontent) is that I could not see at the time God's incredible GOODNESS in that moment. That sweet moment that God was calling me to savor with Him...I spat on with my want and envy. Oh, wicked me.

Seriously, Paul even speaks about contentment in Philippians 4 and I think he would have labeled my life "cushy to the max" (or whatever that is in Aramaic). 

All this to say that I have been in Wyoming for a little over a year and a sweet friend reminded me last night of how when I first touched-base with her here, I was lonely and bitter and angry and miserable and discontent. She reminded me of this while at a book group, hosted at my house, surrounded by a group of wonderful women and close friends. She called to my mind all the growth that has happened. A new baby. God's miraculous protection of that baby. The healing of my body. The desperate state of my heart that has lead to a personal revival in my life. MOPs. Leadership opportunities. A brand new church. Two new businesses. CONTENTMENT.

I know that it is incredibly hard to read this during certain seasons of your life and not want to backhand the author. I get that. I was there for a very long time. But at risk of getting punched in the nose, let me encourage you to focus on the goodness that God is calling you too RIGHT NOW. Savor  that He is drawing you near. Know that He loves you.

Pressure.

That's right.

I'm singing it like Freddie Mercury up in this piece.

Who knew that mothering would find a bedfellow in all-consuming and ridiculous pressure. I mean, call me crazy, but who really wants to hang out with that guy?

I thought Mothering would hang out with a really mellow, hippie-sort who hugged trees and talked about cloud shapes. But. NO. Mothering is that crazy chick (you know the one) who likes the Type-A meglomaniac who works 120 hours a week and wears a power tie.

Enter: Pressure.

It's not just enough to be a mother these days. This is the era of the Mother AND." I'm am mom +  triathlete" or "I'm a mom + culinary genius" or "I'm a mom + the crack addict who invented Pinterest and posts her projects hourly."

So suddenly, my easy day at home with the kids making messes and memories and possibly macaroni art turns into a constant mind game of "am I making my kid retarded for life by not hand pulling all our pasta or stitching every single piece of clothing she wears from organic pieces of humane fabric or giving her sensory baths everyday that take a small army to assemble and execute." BLEH.

If my kid turns out "lacking" or "behind," so be it. She's going to have a happy mom.

Don't get me wrong. Do YOUR thing. Go running and swimming and biking in freezing degrees, wearing next to nothing, screaming to the top of your lungs about how you feel "ALIVE." Hey, you can even tell me about it over coffee and try to goad me into giving it a try. I'll politely smile and shake my head like I'm listening, but I'm not going to feel bad when the next holiday rolls around and I'm sitting on my couch, knitting it up like an old lady, and watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy my babies playing.

The fact of the matter is that I'm surrounded by baby boomers' kids who are now having their own kids....and well, we were raised to be achievers. So we stress ourselves out trying to keep up with the mythical Joneses (jerks) or that couple from Young House Love. Guess what folks? Most of the people you are trying to keep up with GET PAID to do what they do. So to all the working moms or staying home moms or whatever mom you are...just be a mom. be happy. and stop freaking out about everything. Just love your kid.

Kick that sorry loser (pressure) out of your house and find a dirty 'ol hippie to hang out with. You'll wake up and go to bed a much happier woman.

Disclaimer: I adore the couple from Young House Love...I just cannot be them...it's physically impossible. For one, they are two people...and I am just one...but that's beside the point....moving on.

Getting into the swing of things

Most of you will probably respond to this post's title with a bit of an inquisitive eyebrow raise or possibly a bit of a sarcastic, biting chuckle...and I would too - from the outside.

fact of the matter is that I do feel like I am just now getting into the swing of being a stay-at-home momma. Technically, I haven't had to work since June 2011 - it's been a while.

For the first 3 months of my stay-at-home momma adventure, we lived in a camper and in a friend's basement during the summer. So, really, it was more like vacation. There was really no need for "routine" or focus aside from meals. Not to mention, my partner-in-crime was still unemployed, so it was FOR REAL vacation and all duties were shared.

The following 9 months were spent being a stay-at-home momma while temporarily living with my parents. Matt was working and traveling a lot, but my parents were there in the mornings, nights, and weekends - not to mention I was just a few minutes from my sister and ALL the cousins and a car ride away from the other set of grandparents and a plethora of friends who loved us.

Now, it's been 10 months since we move to Wyoming. I had to get into the swing of living in Cheyenne...the swing of having NO outside support (nearby)...the swing of being a mom of two...a mom of two during/after a traumatic injury...a mom of a TWO year old...the swing of wanting and actually pursuing my own little business...and the swing of really wanting to not be here. That's a lot of swings.

And to be honest, I have only really mastered "getting into the swing" of surviving. Buying the groceries, cleaning the house, bathing the kiddos, teaching them about Jesus. And I feel like the remainder of my life will be spent getting into a new a different swing, as I feel like my life and the dynamics of our family are constantly changing. I frankly have no idea if I will be able to keep up.
I sure hope I do. I wish I could take more joy in the ever-changing adventure, but mostly it is sadness.

Sadness and loneliness. A swing I will just never be able to get the hang of. I sure do hope that this phase ends soon.

Blogging Again

I think I'll start blogging again.

To be blunt, there is NOTHING ELSE TO DO HERE.

(Let's back track and make this about as painless as possible. )

We had a baby, Sose, she's beautiful (that happened in 2010). I kept working and Matt stayed with Sose (hard, but good). I finished out the year (middle schoolers are awesome), whilst Matt and I planned to pack all our belongings into a POD hoping that do would do something - be it a job for Matt or a new place to live in PDX. We lived out that summer as nomads with our 9-month-old. We lived in our Vanagon and friend's couches - awesome. Then in August we returned to PDX and with no sign of a job for Matt in sight, we planned on staying in PDX. The day before I went back to work, Matt was offered a job in GA. We jumped on it. We sold the Vanagon (super sad) and headed back East. We lived with my parents for 9 months (Matt didn't make enough money for us to live on our own) and I stayed home with our kiddo. The job stunk. The pay stunk. The benefits stunk. A few days before Christmas we find out I'm pregnant (SURPRISE). We have no idea how in the world we will make it - but we trust. Come June Matt is offered a job in WY. We jump on it. I travel across country again only now 7 months pregnant. We move into a historic cottage downtown (read: old, piece of crap house). My pregnancy immediately gets rough. Baby is born healthy (YAY)...and now, 2 months post baby #2, I am coming to the realization that this township/village that I live in offers a few luxuries:

1) Plenty of fresh air - using blowing at 60mph - you're bound to get a lung full.

2) Plenty of time to knit...because otherwise, I'm going to a very depressing mall - to walk around and stare at the big haired ladies.

Anyhow. I'm blogging again. I hope you read. IF not, that's cool too.

Maybe, I'll just write for me ;)  

I'm Ready...

     The past five months have been absolutely mind blowing.  When you become a mother... when I became a mother, it was the first time that my identity was not wrapped-up in a profession or any kind of wordly acclaim. My identity became "Sosebee's  momma." I have never had to win over my daughter, she has always loved me. I've never lost her trust....although that day may eventually come. I am her "momma." It is the most beautiful thing in the world.
    
     It's similar to having met and married my husband. I did not do much to win him over, which I suppose is how it should be. I was simply myself and  I soon became Matt's beloved. I have disappointed him and I'm sure he has not always liked me. I may have lost trust, having to earn it back along the way. Those points can be more easily addressed by Matt. The point is my beautiful husband and child take me as I am - just me - and love me in my humanity.

     I'm ready to not be "Lydia - the colleague" or "Lydia - the teacher." I have enjoyed my job for several years and undoubtedly, the majority of time, I still enjoy what I do. However, with the birth of a child comes a change in focus and a change in mission. I am ready to just be "Lydia, my momma" or "Lydia, my wife." It sounds selfish. It's not that I want to just up and quit my job. I'm just ready to not be defined by it.