I Challenge Myself to: Listen

Brutal honesty, I have a loud mouth. 

Okay, okay, we all know this.

 I'm a blogger, we have a lot of thoughts floating around in there that absolutely MUST be spoken. 

Okay, I guess you don't have to be a blogger for that to happen, but we must be extra talkative since we make a living doing this. 

Where does the problem lie with talking about everything that may be in my head for even a nano-second? 

Well, my dears, when you're busy talking, when do you get the chance to listen?

Point-in-case:

My husband and I have been going through a really, really awkward transition in our marriage. 

The kids are getting older, I'm about to start going back to school, he's got military goals he's aiming for... We're all on different pages right now. 

Everything is new, so we're slowly feeling things out. 

I've been doing the stay-at-home mom thing for so long and have been so diligent in it, that I just realized in the last few weeks (with Josh's blunt help) that I have thrown my husband into the same category as the kids. 

I didn't even trust him to take Sofia to the nursery by himself at church. 

I mean, what was I expecting? 

Would they get lost in a closet only to be transported to Narnia?

Somewhere along the way, I had subconsciously decided he was a drooling, cranky, indecisive two year old who must be corrected at all times. 

So where does over-sharing fit in?

I have been openly talking with (at) Josh about what I thought were all the problems in our marriage. 

Of course I came out looking pretty after using him as stepping stones through the mud. 

I would get frustrated when he would just shut down and not talk with me. 

The silence between one sentence to the next was excruciating. 

I couldn't figure out why it was so hard for him to just say what was on his daggum mind. 

Then tonight, it just hit me, when In the last 8 years has he gotten to share without repercussion? 

NEVER. 

I have a habit of saying, "I didn't act wrong. I was only reacting to how you made me feel."

Yeah, you can't really do that for an entire lifetime. 

So, tonight I am challenging myself to listen. 

Just listen and not speak unless it's encouraging and kind. 

It sounds easy to do, but Lord knows my lips will be bloody from biting them. 

Cause you know, I know EVERYTHING and I MUST share it. 

Wish me luck and send us prayers. 

Has your family ever gone through a tough transition? 

Have you ever had to sit back and let go of the control? 

The fork in the road cuts like a knife

I've had some of you kindly remind me that I haven't posted in a good while.

Yes, this is true.

I've been busy because it's summer and- can I be honest?- I've been sort of... going crazy I suppose?

I kind of wish I had about two weeks in a log cabin, tucked away in the pine trees at the top of a mountain, where I heard no noise other than snow falling.

That may be just enough time to figure out what on Earth is going on with me.

If it is even me that's the instigator.

You see, I have a bad habit of blaming myself for everything that has ever gone/ will go wrong in my life.

I have no problem saying, "Oh, yeah. I did this. I acted this way. I'm sorry. I'll change."

Here's the thing.

Sometimes... sometimes I get tired of being the one who usually does the changing... or admits wrong doings... or talks about feelings... or sees that there is a relationship at a fork in the road...

It's exhausting.

I rarely get to a point where I just want to say,
"I can't deal with this right now. Just leave me alone."

I am there right now.

I figure it's time for me to just shut my mouth and my brain up, and let others do the mental heavy lifting for a bit.

I'm still plenty willing to have a dialogue with people, I just don't want to instigate it any longer.

At least not until my mental vacation is over.

Who knows what will happen.

Life is an adventure like that I suppose.

Wish me luck and say a prayer.

Here we go in 3...2...

Parenting Advice: 5 & Under

Open letter of advice to parents:

Prepare yourself ahead of time:

You WILL be "that" parent at the grocery store, soccer game, family reunion at least ONCE in the next five years. Kids are kids and sometimes you can't discipline them using your typical creative ways (so you can save their sweet little hearts the hurt) so you become that heavy-breathing dragon in five seconds flat when your kid acts up for fear of being labeled the "lazy mom/ dad." (We all know one)

Your house will no longer look like Better Homes and Gardens magazine cover after the first year. That first year lulls you into a false sense of security. There are some messes, but it's nothing you can't handle.
Then, one morning, your precious angel wakes up and can sass, climb, open childproof locks, and will ingest anything they can get their dirty, jelly covered hands on.
All "pretties" will be locked away for the next 4 years.
Your beautiful, fluffy carpet will be stained and flattened.
You will go through at least one vacuum or steam cleaner every other year.
You'll be so proud that all the crap is picked up out of the floor that you will forget all about that deep cleaning crap that must be done.
Oops. 

Your child will not look picture perfect longer than 15 minutes tops.
Your friend will drop by for a surprise visit and your child will run to the door in only a diaper and will have questionable content all over their face. You're too exhausted to explain that after going through 3 outfits already and having cleaned their face every 10 minutes on the dot for the last two hours, you simply gave up.
You aren't going anywhere, so clothes are optional, and all grime accumulated after 1 pm can be taken care of with a bath before bed. 

You accept whatever judgement may be passed on you and vow to try harder tomorrow.

Jewelry, makeup, perfume, shampoo, and other boring-to-adults items will soon become the most important and fascinating thing your child has ever laid their eyes upon. No matter how "baby-proofed" you think your items are, those sneaky little toddlers are FAR smarter than we are. It WILL be found and hidden/lost/eaten/painted with/etc.
You'll be safer renting a security deposit box at a bank than keep anything of value to you in your home. They're worse (and just as messy) as a burglar. 

If you're contemplating getting a tattoo to commemorate the wonderful birth of your child, I suggest getting black outlines of whatever picture you choose. Tricking your kids into "coloring" your tattoos with WASHABLE (Made that mistake once) markers is much easier this way and it feels. so. good. (If you didn't know about this trick, then you're welcome.)

You will spend hundreds of dollars in that first year on toys that will never really be played with by anyone except your husband and you.
Come on. Babies just lay there unless they're pooping or crying. You spent the money and SOMEONE has to play with it. It's the best way of not judging yourself for still wanting to stare at bright lights and guess what's behind the door in the book. 

At the end of the day, you will look at your sleeping child and regret/ question every single decision that you made in raising them that day. The guilt at times will consume you, but remember this mantra, "No matter how bad today was, you can always try harder tomorrow." That's it. It won't change what happened today, but you can stop yourself from making the same mistakes tomorrow.

If none of this applies to your child, wait to judge me when you have more than one.

And finally,  at some point you will look back at your baby shower and cringe when realizing it's a party consisting of your closest family and friends giving you gifts and basically saying, "Yay! You had sex!"