I am on my third pregnancy and I haven't liked barely one second of any of my pregnancies. How's that for a warm and fuzzy opener. Yes, this one followed a miscarriage, so not a day of it has gone by that I am not utterly completely THANKFUL that we were blessed with another pregnancy. I prayed for it like I've never prayed before, and I have appreciated it. However, that unfortunately doesn't take away from the part about it sucking. Utterly completely. I'm sorry. And then I'm a little sorry that maybe I'm not sorry. Pregnancy just plain isn't all that fun. I miss wine. I miss sleeping on my tum tum. I miss normal make out sessions. I miss human sized nipples. I miss being able to put shoes on without huffing out of breath like it's an olympic event. I miss taking a bath and my whole body being submerged. I miss clothes, really cute clothes. I miss beer. I don't like sushi but I miss it. I don't horseback ride but damn't maybe I want to. I want to ice skate, drinking a blue moon, smoking a pack of cigarettes, without a care in the world. Ok maybe I just wanna nap on my stomach and have a glass of red wine tonight but all the things seem to hurt the baby except sitting on my front porch and waiting on it to come out.
If you loved pregnancy, I both envy you and hate you. I'll slap you outright if you tell me to my face, and there's not much you can do, I'm pregnant. That's maybe the one good thing, you can get away with just about anything. I am pretty sure I could burn the house down and my husband would be so afraid to poke the hormonal bear he would just giggle nervously. Here are my top most hated things about growing this beautiful nugget.
The stretching of the skin
I am sitting here typing and can feel the baby moving. It's beautiful and weird and awesome. I can also literally feel my skin stretching. Literally, I can feel the left side of my belly creating and making a stretch mark. Yes I've seen those posts where the mom will take a selfie with her baby in an organic cotton sling drinking a smoothie out of a mason jar and say, oh these are the roads that built my kids and for that reason they're beautiful and I lay awake at night and count the stretch marks and my children's dreams BLAH BLAH BLAH. No. They're ugly and I want the stomach of a 16 year old Lacrosse player with a raging metabolism. Each night, I may forget to brush my kids teeth but you better be darn sure I coat myself in Bio Oil like I am about to slide down Mt. Everest and being slick is my only hope of survival.
The not horseback riding
Ok seriously I've been on a horse like 4 times in my life, so this isn't hindering me that much. But I do NOT like to be told not to do something, or that it's not a good idea. Unfortunately the way that I am wired, it just makes me want to do that one thing 10,000 times more. I actually like to look up the things that are suggested I don't do so I can get extra pissed about not doing them. We went to Disney World for the first time in my life while I was pregnant with my second son so I couldn't go on any roller coaster rides. I am still bitter. I just got to waddle around swollen looking for funnel cakes. Pregnancy fail.
The feeling of unattractiveness
Yes I do think it's insane and incredible that this body was able to make a baby, grow a baby, nourish a baby, and push out a baby. That is amazing. But it ain't pretty and I'm sorry I'm not going to be convinced. My boobs are so ginormous I don't even know what to do with them and if it didn't take so much effort I'd duct tape them down every morning. When the pregnancy is over they'll just turn into a bag of rocks that lay atop my body squirting milk in every direction. That is for about 11 months when I give up nursing and they turn into what can only be described as dropping a small orange into panty hose. I'll spend $57 on a bra from victoria secret, feel guilty about it, bend over and place them in the purple bra every day, and they'll look normal. I'll convince myself that my husband isn't a boob man and I'll cry about them once a month. Carry on. My nipples are a weird color and a weird shape and I don't know if they'll go back. That's a mystery only time will unlock. I'm leaking milk already, which is a funny, funny joke.. My belly button is flat and starting to look confused. The other day my 5 year old son told me it looked like a snoring panda. I don't know for sure but I don't think it was a compliment, because he snorted and walked out of the room. I can't see my lady parts but I'm pretty positive that's a good thing. I'm swollen, I'm waddling, and my butt is so big it enters the room 5 minutes after I do. I can actually feel my butt shaking like I'm on a cartoon. I think it has sound effects.
The comments
We went to the zoo on Monday and a lady came up to me and said confidently, "Woman, that baby is good and grown and probably has hobbies." While it made me laugh, pregnancy opens a window for everyone to comment on your body, your baby, your parenting style, and how you're carrying. I've been told I'm too big, I've been told I'm too small, I've been told everything under the sun, to which I have wanted to shout every time, shut your face and get me a cookie. Unless you're going up to someone pregnant to tell them "You are an incredible miracle unicorn who I cannot believe is surviving this insanity can I give you a foot rub and a million dollars," Shut your pie hole and move on.
Sorry if this offended you. I'm almost 38 weeks pregnant, my husband is on the road recruiting football players, and I need a hug.
Signed, bitter pregnant lady about to eat some waffles.
Big Mama Taylor Blog
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Go take a bath!
I have a problem and I've got to shout about it. In my world, especially during football season, there are two little people and there are me. There is my husband, but because we get to see him so seldom, there are 3 people that are my main focus, and those people include my boys Brooks and Luke, and myself. Now don't get me wrong, during the 18 minutes I get with my husband alone each week, I am smothering him like a bear to honey. I swear I am getting to my point. I miss my husband.
My point is, as a coaches wife, it's very common to go through the motions of being a single mom for 6-7 months out of the year and forget to do things for yourself. Yes, I'm talking to myself, who hasn't washed her hair since last Thursday. I want to shout it from the rooftops (of Paris) that it is ok for moms to take a moment for themselves.
So here is where my issue comes in. It has come to my attention in recent years that anytime I mention doing something for myself, to keep my sanity, during these insane football months, or anytime of year quite frankly, it is usually met with a response like, "wow, that's crazy," or "oh my, I could never do that!" I'm not talking about jaunting off on a cruise to Greece either. I'm talking about a Saturday babysitter for 3 hours, a bath while they're awake but mildly entertained (thanks, SpongeBob!), or maybe picking up dinner for yourself and cooking them chicken nuggets (they don't touch the organic chicken and rice at my salad spot anyway, why waste $9??).
Let me be clear about one thing - my children are my priority, right after Jesus and my husband (happy wife, equals happy wife, equals happy kids. trust me). But that doesn't mean that taking a moment for myself while struggling to manage it all should be met with anything but a pat on my own back. I truly believe God wanted us to enjoy things in life and I want to stop the madness of mom guilt!
Of course when we are struggling through these bridges in motherhood and entering different phases, we go back to how our mothers did it. My mom says now she wishes she would have given herself more opportunities to take a break, which helps ease the guilt I feel. But one thing I think she did amazingly as a mother is teach us self sufficiency. I now have a 3 and 5 year old, and thank God, they are fairly self sufficient for a time period of about 30 minutes. But I do believe I have taught them that, and I do believe they know I expect that of them. So if it's been a particularly bad Thursday, and I haven't seen my husband since the previous Friday, I might need a bath at 6 p.m. And by golly if mommy needs it, then she should be able to find a way to get it. That might mean that I feed and bathe and pajama them, and turn on a show for 30 minutes, or set up crayons, But I will not feel one second of guilt for that soapy warm escape, because it allows me to emerge refreshed, happy, and I hope, teaches my kids that mommy might need a second sometimes, and that's ok.
I have overheard my older son tell my younger son on multiple occasions things like
"Luke, Mom is about to lose her mind and I can tell trust me. Be good."
"Luke let's clean up these toys because remember mom will be happy."
"Luke, if we are good I bet mom will take us to the park."
And ya wanna know what? I DON'T FEEL THE LEAST BIT GUILTY. It is ok for them to know that I might get frustrated, have a bad day, or even miss my husband. These are normal human emotions and the best part is that I can show them that I can have a bad day and still move on. Function anyway. Make dinner anyway. That is life, and it's ok to not be perfect, hair blown out, perky booty, amazing elf on the shelf mom 100% of the time. Heck my favorite saying from a beautiful mom friend I have is "we survived today. Seriously. Nobody died today." I just love you Dorothy!
Today's society is full of amazing moms who are doing it all and I commend you. It is a hard job no matter how you shake it down, whether you work in a corporate setting, a part time job, work from home, or your job is full time motherhood. Being a parent is hard work, and there is no shame in needing moments for yourself.
I know what detractors and critics could and may say about this blog write up. That someday, I'll be old and gray, sitting in my house alone and I'll miss their sticky fingers and gummy smiles. And I will regret terribly that I didn't get to give every single bath, play every single game of tag, and give out every single kiss on the cheek. But the truth is I don't regret any of it so far. I don't regret any babysitter that I have been fortunate enough to have love on my kids. I don't regret the beautiful Mother's Helper who is with my kids in the family room right now. I can hear their giggles, and writing makes me feel whole. I feel incredibly blessed that my husband makes enough that it's not a financial struggle to have her over. I think that it is good for Brooks to see me "having time in your room to do your computer stuff." This means my child sees me taking care of myself as needed. And I pray that someday he marries somebody who never stops sparkling to him, and he counts the hours until the babysitter arrives to take her on dates. And he reminds her that it's ok to have over a Mother's Helper and shut the bedroom door for some quiet time. She will emerge renewed. Refreshed. Ready to take on the rest of the day and greet him at the door with a big kiss.
To all my mom friends, I pray this holiday season brings you time to relax. Set the kiddos up with that Captain Crunch in the bowl and don't think twice about it. Draw yourself a bath and remind them that moms need little breaks now and then. Close your eyes and listen to them giggle and talk to each other and pat yourself on the back. You're doing a great job, and you deserve it.
xoxo Big Mama
My point is, as a coaches wife, it's very common to go through the motions of being a single mom for 6-7 months out of the year and forget to do things for yourself. Yes, I'm talking to myself, who hasn't washed her hair since last Thursday. I want to shout it from the rooftops (of Paris) that it is ok for moms to take a moment for themselves.
So here is where my issue comes in. It has come to my attention in recent years that anytime I mention doing something for myself, to keep my sanity, during these insane football months, or anytime of year quite frankly, it is usually met with a response like, "wow, that's crazy," or "oh my, I could never do that!" I'm not talking about jaunting off on a cruise to Greece either. I'm talking about a Saturday babysitter for 3 hours, a bath while they're awake but mildly entertained (thanks, SpongeBob!), or maybe picking up dinner for yourself and cooking them chicken nuggets (they don't touch the organic chicken and rice at my salad spot anyway, why waste $9??).
Let me be clear about one thing - my children are my priority, right after Jesus and my husband (happy wife, equals happy wife, equals happy kids. trust me). But that doesn't mean that taking a moment for myself while struggling to manage it all should be met with anything but a pat on my own back. I truly believe God wanted us to enjoy things in life and I want to stop the madness of mom guilt!
Of course when we are struggling through these bridges in motherhood and entering different phases, we go back to how our mothers did it. My mom says now she wishes she would have given herself more opportunities to take a break, which helps ease the guilt I feel. But one thing I think she did amazingly as a mother is teach us self sufficiency. I now have a 3 and 5 year old, and thank God, they are fairly self sufficient for a time period of about 30 minutes. But I do believe I have taught them that, and I do believe they know I expect that of them. So if it's been a particularly bad Thursday, and I haven't seen my husband since the previous Friday, I might need a bath at 6 p.m. And by golly if mommy needs it, then she should be able to find a way to get it. That might mean that I feed and bathe and pajama them, and turn on a show for 30 minutes, or set up crayons, But I will not feel one second of guilt for that soapy warm escape, because it allows me to emerge refreshed, happy, and I hope, teaches my kids that mommy might need a second sometimes, and that's ok.
I have overheard my older son tell my younger son on multiple occasions things like
"Luke, Mom is about to lose her mind and I can tell trust me. Be good."
"Luke let's clean up these toys because remember mom will be happy."
"Luke, if we are good I bet mom will take us to the park."
And ya wanna know what? I DON'T FEEL THE LEAST BIT GUILTY. It is ok for them to know that I might get frustrated, have a bad day, or even miss my husband. These are normal human emotions and the best part is that I can show them that I can have a bad day and still move on. Function anyway. Make dinner anyway. That is life, and it's ok to not be perfect, hair blown out, perky booty, amazing elf on the shelf mom 100% of the time. Heck my favorite saying from a beautiful mom friend I have is "we survived today. Seriously. Nobody died today." I just love you Dorothy!
Today's society is full of amazing moms who are doing it all and I commend you. It is a hard job no matter how you shake it down, whether you work in a corporate setting, a part time job, work from home, or your job is full time motherhood. Being a parent is hard work, and there is no shame in needing moments for yourself.
I know what detractors and critics could and may say about this blog write up. That someday, I'll be old and gray, sitting in my house alone and I'll miss their sticky fingers and gummy smiles. And I will regret terribly that I didn't get to give every single bath, play every single game of tag, and give out every single kiss on the cheek. But the truth is I don't regret any of it so far. I don't regret any babysitter that I have been fortunate enough to have love on my kids. I don't regret the beautiful Mother's Helper who is with my kids in the family room right now. I can hear their giggles, and writing makes me feel whole. I feel incredibly blessed that my husband makes enough that it's not a financial struggle to have her over. I think that it is good for Brooks to see me "having time in your room to do your computer stuff." This means my child sees me taking care of myself as needed. And I pray that someday he marries somebody who never stops sparkling to him, and he counts the hours until the babysitter arrives to take her on dates. And he reminds her that it's ok to have over a Mother's Helper and shut the bedroom door for some quiet time. She will emerge renewed. Refreshed. Ready to take on the rest of the day and greet him at the door with a big kiss.
To all my mom friends, I pray this holiday season brings you time to relax. Set the kiddos up with that Captain Crunch in the bowl and don't think twice about it. Draw yourself a bath and remind them that moms need little breaks now and then. Close your eyes and listen to them giggle and talk to each other and pat yourself on the back. You're doing a great job, and you deserve it.
xoxo Big Mama
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Here goes nothing
I have spent a few months feeling sorry for myself, wondering if I would ever write this post. I knew that I would at some point come on here, and hammer out a few sentences, hoping it would be therapeutic, as writing so often is for me. I might save it for a month or two. I might erase it. I might save it forever and read it sometimes. But sharing it is a whole different story.
However, as time goes on, I know that I have to share it. Not for any reason except that I hope it will help me heal a little more. And also, maybe someday, somewhere, it will resonate with someone else, and help them too.
Anyone that knows our family knows that we would love to have one more child. If you see me in stressed out moments you might even wonder why. Hehe. But deep down, in the depths of my soul, I feel that there is another child out there for me. When we first got married, I really pictured us with 4 kids. My husband is one of 4, and I am one of 5, so I just imagined we would be the same. As we have created our own family, and I realize my strengths and weaknesses, coupled with my husband's job as a football coach, I honestly don't know that I am equipped to handle 4. I do not know how you did it, Mom! So I have started to just really put that in God's hands. But I do know that I would give anything to have just one more.
About 17 months ago my husband and I went on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Italy. We left our three year old and one year old for 7 days and it was hard and wonderful. I will always be thankful for that adventure we had. I was thankful that I missed my babies as much as I did. I am thankful we had the money to do that, and that my parents blessed us at a young age so that we did. We went on the trip with a purpose: do something outrageous and wild and slightly financially irresponsible before we have our third kid. I just assumed we would return from Italy, and within a few months, I would be pregnant again, with another 2 to 2 1/2 year age gap between the next one and our younger one. It did not occur to me that this wouldn't happen.
But here we are. It's August....over a year later......and our baby is almost 3. And I am sitting here writing this with tears streaming down my face and the heaviest heart I have ever had. I am so sad that we haven't been able to have another one. We did get pregnant once, and we lost that baby. I have told some people. If you know me, you probably know I am an open book. I will tell you if I am cranky, if I have gas, my whole life story, whatever you want. But I have been a little more guarded about this. Slowly I have started to tell people, but the words are usually out of my mouth before I have thought them through and I don't even know why I am saying them. Some days I want to pretend that I never had this happen to me. That I am perfectly fertile with golden eggs and I could have 82 children if I so chose to. And other days I want to scream from the mountain tops that I know what you feel like. Anyone who has struggled to get pregnant or has laid in their bed curled up and sobbed until your face hurt after losing a baby. I know you. I get it.
As I have struggled through different emotions since our miscarriage I have realized several things. I am beyond lucky, and grateful, to have two beautiful children. I can't imagine my life without them and I don't remember my life before them. They are gorgeous, hilarious, and way more than I deserve. The depth of my appreciation for my children is deeper now that I have endured loss. I should be thankful for that. I have met people and I know people who have endured losses and I know stories I wish were not true. I miscarried early on in the pregnancy and actually never heard a heartbeat. In some ways that's better. I hadn't told many people and I didn't have more time to get attached. But in other ways it makes my mind crazier. What happened and why did it not work? What did I do wrong?
So I drink less coffee. I run less. I track everything. I track if I lose a darn hair off of my head I swear. I pray more than I ever have in my gosh darn life. I pray more on my knees than I ever imagined I would. And that's good. It's easy to say that maybe that's what God wanted for me. To feel the appreciation for my 2 beautiful children. To realize the miracle they are. To stop and appreciate what I have. I have so much. Maybe he needed me to pray more. I pray in bed. I pray in the car. I pray while I exercise. I pray while I watch TV. I am the ultimate multi-tasking prayer.
My husband has of course been a saint. He would do anything for me. I will miss him this fall when I have bad days. I miss his hands the most. They are huge and they make me feel safe. I love laying in bed with him without the TV on and talking. He makes me feel calmer and I am afraid for nights when he works until midnight and I feel the world is caving in.
I know I need to carry on and get over it. When I am busy, really really busy, I even go a few hours without thinking about it. And then it creeps back in. Not being busy is not good for me. I let my mind wander to your due date. Would you have been a boy or girl? I do not care. I know you would have been so special. How can you miss someone you don't know? But I do. For about one month afterwards I would dream and see a face. It was like in an ultrasound, fuzzy and wavy, and you don't really know what it would look like. But it was sweet.
I went out to dinner with my 2 best friends about 6 weeks ago and we met a clairvoyant lady who "read us." She approached us, and without us saying a word, she asked me if I had recently miscarried, and that it was a boy, and he was in the room. I felt wonderful and angry and a million things.
My lowest points usually come curled into a ball of self pity in bed and my highest points usually come on runs. So I'll try to run more, and I'll try to curl into a ball in my bed less. And I'll pray that someday, I will only think about you once a day. That I will stop beating myself up, wondering if it was something I did. Sometimes it feels like running is the only glue keeping me from losing it completely. Ironically, anyone who I tell my fertility struggles to tells me to run less. So I try to hang a balance between not too much and I might jump off a bridge if I don't run today.
As time goes on I have really started to mentally grasp that I might just have 2 kids. It makes me feel like I want to jump out of my own skin. Because of that, I cling to the memories of when Brooks and Luke were little. Every time I try to remember harder they seem farther away. They're fading and it makes me frantic. I want them to be vivid and present. I want to hold a baby. I yearn to hold a baby.
With that I worry that I am letting these times slip away while I am in pain. I am so sad about my situation and in a year I will miss Luke being 2 instead of enjoying him being 2 now. I want to slap myself out of it. I want I want I want. My life has been lucky, and good, and maybe I needed some struggle.
On really bad days you might think I am someone completely different than I am. I have let it consume me. I am trying so hard to not let that happen anymore. I try to remind myself that what attitude I put out into the world often speaks louder than my words. Nobody knows what happens to me at the grocery store. Nobody cares. And my kids need me to move on and smile. I need to carry on and get over it.
When I finally got the courage to post this my son said, so sweetly, "momma, what are you crying about?"
I said "The baby that I lost."
It felt ok to tell him that, and I felt good.
I love you, whoever you were. I miss you. I'll pray for you. And you are forever mine.
xoxo
Big Momma
However, as time goes on, I know that I have to share it. Not for any reason except that I hope it will help me heal a little more. And also, maybe someday, somewhere, it will resonate with someone else, and help them too.
Anyone that knows our family knows that we would love to have one more child. If you see me in stressed out moments you might even wonder why. Hehe. But deep down, in the depths of my soul, I feel that there is another child out there for me. When we first got married, I really pictured us with 4 kids. My husband is one of 4, and I am one of 5, so I just imagined we would be the same. As we have created our own family, and I realize my strengths and weaknesses, coupled with my husband's job as a football coach, I honestly don't know that I am equipped to handle 4. I do not know how you did it, Mom! So I have started to just really put that in God's hands. But I do know that I would give anything to have just one more.
About 17 months ago my husband and I went on a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Italy. We left our three year old and one year old for 7 days and it was hard and wonderful. I will always be thankful for that adventure we had. I was thankful that I missed my babies as much as I did. I am thankful we had the money to do that, and that my parents blessed us at a young age so that we did. We went on the trip with a purpose: do something outrageous and wild and slightly financially irresponsible before we have our third kid. I just assumed we would return from Italy, and within a few months, I would be pregnant again, with another 2 to 2 1/2 year age gap between the next one and our younger one. It did not occur to me that this wouldn't happen.
But here we are. It's August....over a year later......and our baby is almost 3. And I am sitting here writing this with tears streaming down my face and the heaviest heart I have ever had. I am so sad that we haven't been able to have another one. We did get pregnant once, and we lost that baby. I have told some people. If you know me, you probably know I am an open book. I will tell you if I am cranky, if I have gas, my whole life story, whatever you want. But I have been a little more guarded about this. Slowly I have started to tell people, but the words are usually out of my mouth before I have thought them through and I don't even know why I am saying them. Some days I want to pretend that I never had this happen to me. That I am perfectly fertile with golden eggs and I could have 82 children if I so chose to. And other days I want to scream from the mountain tops that I know what you feel like. Anyone who has struggled to get pregnant or has laid in their bed curled up and sobbed until your face hurt after losing a baby. I know you. I get it.
As I have struggled through different emotions since our miscarriage I have realized several things. I am beyond lucky, and grateful, to have two beautiful children. I can't imagine my life without them and I don't remember my life before them. They are gorgeous, hilarious, and way more than I deserve. The depth of my appreciation for my children is deeper now that I have endured loss. I should be thankful for that. I have met people and I know people who have endured losses and I know stories I wish were not true. I miscarried early on in the pregnancy and actually never heard a heartbeat. In some ways that's better. I hadn't told many people and I didn't have more time to get attached. But in other ways it makes my mind crazier. What happened and why did it not work? What did I do wrong?
So I drink less coffee. I run less. I track everything. I track if I lose a darn hair off of my head I swear. I pray more than I ever have in my gosh darn life. I pray more on my knees than I ever imagined I would. And that's good. It's easy to say that maybe that's what God wanted for me. To feel the appreciation for my 2 beautiful children. To realize the miracle they are. To stop and appreciate what I have. I have so much. Maybe he needed me to pray more. I pray in bed. I pray in the car. I pray while I exercise. I pray while I watch TV. I am the ultimate multi-tasking prayer.
My husband has of course been a saint. He would do anything for me. I will miss him this fall when I have bad days. I miss his hands the most. They are huge and they make me feel safe. I love laying in bed with him without the TV on and talking. He makes me feel calmer and I am afraid for nights when he works until midnight and I feel the world is caving in.
I know I need to carry on and get over it. When I am busy, really really busy, I even go a few hours without thinking about it. And then it creeps back in. Not being busy is not good for me. I let my mind wander to your due date. Would you have been a boy or girl? I do not care. I know you would have been so special. How can you miss someone you don't know? But I do. For about one month afterwards I would dream and see a face. It was like in an ultrasound, fuzzy and wavy, and you don't really know what it would look like. But it was sweet.
I went out to dinner with my 2 best friends about 6 weeks ago and we met a clairvoyant lady who "read us." She approached us, and without us saying a word, she asked me if I had recently miscarried, and that it was a boy, and he was in the room. I felt wonderful and angry and a million things.
My lowest points usually come curled into a ball of self pity in bed and my highest points usually come on runs. So I'll try to run more, and I'll try to curl into a ball in my bed less. And I'll pray that someday, I will only think about you once a day. That I will stop beating myself up, wondering if it was something I did. Sometimes it feels like running is the only glue keeping me from losing it completely. Ironically, anyone who I tell my fertility struggles to tells me to run less. So I try to hang a balance between not too much and I might jump off a bridge if I don't run today.
As time goes on I have really started to mentally grasp that I might just have 2 kids. It makes me feel like I want to jump out of my own skin. Because of that, I cling to the memories of when Brooks and Luke were little. Every time I try to remember harder they seem farther away. They're fading and it makes me frantic. I want them to be vivid and present. I want to hold a baby. I yearn to hold a baby.
With that I worry that I am letting these times slip away while I am in pain. I am so sad about my situation and in a year I will miss Luke being 2 instead of enjoying him being 2 now. I want to slap myself out of it. I want I want I want. My life has been lucky, and good, and maybe I needed some struggle.
On really bad days you might think I am someone completely different than I am. I have let it consume me. I am trying so hard to not let that happen anymore. I try to remind myself that what attitude I put out into the world often speaks louder than my words. Nobody knows what happens to me at the grocery store. Nobody cares. And my kids need me to move on and smile. I need to carry on and get over it.
When I finally got the courage to post this my son said, so sweetly, "momma, what are you crying about?"
I said "The baby that I lost."
It felt ok to tell him that, and I felt good.
I love you, whoever you were. I miss you. I'll pray for you. And you are forever mine.
xoxo
Big Momma
Saturday, May 30, 2015
There was this day
There was this day. It was a long time ago now. It is etched in my brain forever. It was before I had kids. It was before I met my sweet husband. As amazing as my life has been for 10 years with these people, I was Sarah Adkins Sherman before them. And there was this day.
I came home and my mom was sad. She is never sad. She is quiet, rarely. And when she is quiet, it's weird. She is mostly even, perfectly wonderfully, amazingly calm and even-tempered. She has raised 5 children and I only remember her being really mad and using a cross word one time. It was 104 degrees in Texas and she ran out of gas. That day, she was pissssed. That's truly the only time I remember. Seriously she's that good. To this day I will never know how she did it. But on this day, she was so so so sad, and it was in the morning. I walked into our living room and she said, the news is broadcasting that your dad might be let go from the Packers today.
I felt like someone punched me in the stomach. It made me hurt in places I didn't know I could hurt. He had one losing season since he arrived here. You are too greedy. He is too good. You don't deserve him. Let him go. But don't, because I love living here, and our life. And Wisconsin is so good. Weirdly good in a secret way, like a miracle cheese Candy Land nobody knows about it and it's only our secret and we can have all the butter burgers and cheese curds we want. Seriously the people are so nice and if you said tomorrow that I have to leave beautiful sunny Florida for the people of Wisconsin I would do it. It's that good. But if you let my dad go, I will always have to 1% hate it and I don't want to. I want to always love Culvers cheese curds and milk shakes, and pushing the Krolls button because I didn't get a butter patty on my burger, and la la la la Lambeau. There is only one Lambeau field.
So they did. She told me at 8 a.m. And by 9 a.m., before dad could even tell all he wanted to tell, they had made the news public. This was the first time that I hated football. Up until this point in my life, football was just part of life. I didn't love football. I didn't hate football. I was football.
(me) "Hi my name is Sarah I just moved here from Texas. I'm 12. I have moved 7 times and my dad is a football coach."
(friend who does not know me) "Oh. He does that year round? That's weird."
(me) "Ya it's weird. want to be my friend?"
Fast forward 20 years. I will meet friends at the gym......at the grocery....I met one of my best Florida friends getting coffee on day 2 at a Starbucks, and she's a neighbor and friend now! Thanks football coaching!! And Cyndy Rodriguez! Love you! And here I am. I am just a mom. That is my identifying factor. I have noticed recently people will often ask me, but what do you do? They know I am a mom, and that suddenly isn't enough. But this isn't about that, and I am going to have to write another blog about that. Because it is enough and I am trying to raise two decent human beings and by golly it's exhausting. Yes I do write a blog when I feel like it. Yes I do sell skin care and I don't do it very well. But I am a mom. And that's enough. So stop asking moms what else they do. Rant done.
I am just here. Here raising babies and praying and baking cookies and running and doing more praying. And I still think about that day all the time. That is what people watching sports don't understand. There is a coach. And there is a family supporting that coach. I am guessing they haven't seen him in weeks and they care more about that game than you I GUARANTEE. I think about the season my husband will start in 100 days or so all the time. I feel sick to my stomach already. A few months in, he will be exhausted. He will be run down. I will be doing everything in our household except earning money. I don't know how this happened that I married a coach but God laid out my life a million years ago and he knows what he's doing. I will worry my coach is too run-down, and I won't be able to make it. But I will make it. And we will be ok. Winning will make it better. But if we don't, we will still be ok.
So on that horrible day, my dad left the Packers. I was in graduate school at Nebraska at the time, so you would think that I would have been fairly removed from it. But my parents were amazing at keeping our family in tact, and I felt every hurt that I could feel. The day my dad went to the Packers to clear out his office I went with him. I helped him load boxes of memorabilia and framed pictures. It took forever, because he had lived at those offices for over 6 years. I waited patiently in the hallways of the enormous building while he went and thanked every janitor, cleaning person, maintenance man, etc. He tipped them all, and he knew their name. He knew every single person's name. He was asking about their kids, and asking to stay in touch. And I wanted to kick the walls down. Honestly I wanted to burn the walls down, but that sounds crazy. So ya we will stick with kick the walls down. I wanted to yell at anybody I saw "You are crazy. He is the best you will ever find!"
But it happened anyway, and we moved on. And my family went to Houston, where my dad was the offensive line coach then the offensive coordinator of the Houston Texans. He was eventually named the Head Coach of Texas A&M University a few years later. He turned the program around, devoted his entire being to that University, and I still have people today tell me what he did for them at that school. I will have people approach me for the rest of my life telling me that my dad was the best thing happened to them. And he was the best thing that happened to me, too. In 6 years at the Packers he won 3 divisional championships. In 4 years at Texas A&M he went to 3 bowl games. Coaching is the weirdest business on the planet. It's never enough. It feels like it will never be enough.
So even after all this weird pain....this coaching life that I didn't ask for, but I am incredibly blessed to have been given, I have come to accept Big Poppa's decision to coach in Cape Cod. I just want him to be happy. I want him to be able to coach, because seriously he is so good at it it's crazy. His best talent is to be a motivator, honestly his scheme could use some work. HAHAHAH just checking if you are reading dad. Love you! But he is the best thing that has ever happened to football, and anything he has touched has turned to gold (Brett Favre finishing strong under his coaching at the Packers, Aaron Rodgers drafted during his tenure at the Packers, Ryan Tannehill coached in college, Johnny Football recruited at A&M, raised the great Sarah Sherman, bye Felicia).
So I am not going to be sad. I am going to be ecstatic. That he will keep coaching. Thank God. He called me one day and said he might get into Real Estate and I flat out told him he was crazy. You are way too good at this Poppa. Keep on coaching. Coach until all you want to do is go out on that crazy boat to Nantucket even though we all tell you it makes us nervous. Because you're changing lives and it's amazing and it would be a downright crime to hold you back. Here is the link to an awesomely enormous decision by my Pops.
Sherman to take over as Head Coach of Massachusett's High School
If you have read this entire crazy rambling blog, my only request is this.
Keep loving sports. Watch them with the passion that they deserve. Somebody's entire life is devoted to the game you are watching. A 9-year old basketball game might have been missed tonight, because this guy had to coach the Boston Celtics.
Love your dad. I have made it perfectly clear that I have wanted a girl for a long time. It is not a secret to anybody that knows me. I like to laugh with everyone about how it is because I would shop for her endlessly (duh) and we would be best friends forever (double duh). It is mostly because my dad is the best man there ever was in my mind. And there is no sweeter relationship, in the entire world, than a daughter and her father. Zac would be the luckiest man in the world to have a daughter and build the kind of relationship I had with my dad. He is the first man I ever loved, and he is the kindest, sweetest soul on the planet.
Dad,
You are the most wonderfully good person I have ever known. When I was growing up, you told me about 2,000 times, I can handle anything in the world, just don't lie to me. Ugh. It took me forever to figure that out. Thank you for teaching me about discipline. And marriage. And honestly. And that I should never hold on to anything tighter than I hold on to my relationship with God.
I know you are going to be moving mountains when you are gone, because that is the kind of person you are. You will influence people so much that they will continue to spread that when you can't do it anymore yourself. And that is all Jesus ever wanted. I don't know why God brought us to these places but I have to believe it's to get us here, where we have our faith, our family, our health, and this relationship. I read 2 things recently that make me feel better.
"My heart is at ease knowing that, what was meant for me will never miss me, and that what misses me was never meant for me."
"In the end only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you."
To the Nauset High School football team,
I hope you understand the coach you are getting. This is no joke. He has a .594 head coaching winning record in the NFL, and he is the most wise man I have ever known. But more importantly, he can guide you in every facet of your life. He will uphold you to the highest standards you have ever known, and he will not let you fail. You will probably hate him before you love him, and then you will never, ever, ever forget him. He might make you learn a 128 page notebook about the west coast offense, but you will also possibly learn the most important life lessons you never knew you needed. Buckle your seat belts. And get ready. PS you might puke during 2-a-days.
"I will go before you, and make the crooked places straight."
Isaiah 45:2
xoxo Big Mama
I came home and my mom was sad. She is never sad. She is quiet, rarely. And when she is quiet, it's weird. She is mostly even, perfectly wonderfully, amazingly calm and even-tempered. She has raised 5 children and I only remember her being really mad and using a cross word one time. It was 104 degrees in Texas and she ran out of gas. That day, she was pissssed. That's truly the only time I remember. Seriously she's that good. To this day I will never know how she did it. But on this day, she was so so so sad, and it was in the morning. I walked into our living room and she said, the news is broadcasting that your dad might be let go from the Packers today.
I felt like someone punched me in the stomach. It made me hurt in places I didn't know I could hurt. He had one losing season since he arrived here. You are too greedy. He is too good. You don't deserve him. Let him go. But don't, because I love living here, and our life. And Wisconsin is so good. Weirdly good in a secret way, like a miracle cheese Candy Land nobody knows about it and it's only our secret and we can have all the butter burgers and cheese curds we want. Seriously the people are so nice and if you said tomorrow that I have to leave beautiful sunny Florida for the people of Wisconsin I would do it. It's that good. But if you let my dad go, I will always have to 1% hate it and I don't want to. I want to always love Culvers cheese curds and milk shakes, and pushing the Krolls button because I didn't get a butter patty on my burger, and la la la la Lambeau. There is only one Lambeau field.
So they did. She told me at 8 a.m. And by 9 a.m., before dad could even tell all he wanted to tell, they had made the news public. This was the first time that I hated football. Up until this point in my life, football was just part of life. I didn't love football. I didn't hate football. I was football.
(me) "Hi my name is Sarah I just moved here from Texas. I'm 12. I have moved 7 times and my dad is a football coach."
(friend who does not know me) "Oh. He does that year round? That's weird."
(me) "Ya it's weird. want to be my friend?"
Fast forward 20 years. I will meet friends at the gym......at the grocery....I met one of my best Florida friends getting coffee on day 2 at a Starbucks, and she's a neighbor and friend now! Thanks football coaching!! And Cyndy Rodriguez! Love you! And here I am. I am just a mom. That is my identifying factor. I have noticed recently people will often ask me, but what do you do? They know I am a mom, and that suddenly isn't enough. But this isn't about that, and I am going to have to write another blog about that. Because it is enough and I am trying to raise two decent human beings and by golly it's exhausting. Yes I do write a blog when I feel like it. Yes I do sell skin care and I don't do it very well. But I am a mom. And that's enough. So stop asking moms what else they do. Rant done.
I am just here. Here raising babies and praying and baking cookies and running and doing more praying. And I still think about that day all the time. That is what people watching sports don't understand. There is a coach. And there is a family supporting that coach. I am guessing they haven't seen him in weeks and they care more about that game than you I GUARANTEE. I think about the season my husband will start in 100 days or so all the time. I feel sick to my stomach already. A few months in, he will be exhausted. He will be run down. I will be doing everything in our household except earning money. I don't know how this happened that I married a coach but God laid out my life a million years ago and he knows what he's doing. I will worry my coach is too run-down, and I won't be able to make it. But I will make it. And we will be ok. Winning will make it better. But if we don't, we will still be ok.
So on that horrible day, my dad left the Packers. I was in graduate school at Nebraska at the time, so you would think that I would have been fairly removed from it. But my parents were amazing at keeping our family in tact, and I felt every hurt that I could feel. The day my dad went to the Packers to clear out his office I went with him. I helped him load boxes of memorabilia and framed pictures. It took forever, because he had lived at those offices for over 6 years. I waited patiently in the hallways of the enormous building while he went and thanked every janitor, cleaning person, maintenance man, etc. He tipped them all, and he knew their name. He knew every single person's name. He was asking about their kids, and asking to stay in touch. And I wanted to kick the walls down. Honestly I wanted to burn the walls down, but that sounds crazy. So ya we will stick with kick the walls down. I wanted to yell at anybody I saw "You are crazy. He is the best you will ever find!"
But it happened anyway, and we moved on. And my family went to Houston, where my dad was the offensive line coach then the offensive coordinator of the Houston Texans. He was eventually named the Head Coach of Texas A&M University a few years later. He turned the program around, devoted his entire being to that University, and I still have people today tell me what he did for them at that school. I will have people approach me for the rest of my life telling me that my dad was the best thing happened to them. And he was the best thing that happened to me, too. In 6 years at the Packers he won 3 divisional championships. In 4 years at Texas A&M he went to 3 bowl games. Coaching is the weirdest business on the planet. It's never enough. It feels like it will never be enough.
So even after all this weird pain....this coaching life that I didn't ask for, but I am incredibly blessed to have been given, I have come to accept Big Poppa's decision to coach in Cape Cod. I just want him to be happy. I want him to be able to coach, because seriously he is so good at it it's crazy. His best talent is to be a motivator, honestly his scheme could use some work. HAHAHAH just checking if you are reading dad. Love you! But he is the best thing that has ever happened to football, and anything he has touched has turned to gold (Brett Favre finishing strong under his coaching at the Packers, Aaron Rodgers drafted during his tenure at the Packers, Ryan Tannehill coached in college, Johnny Football recruited at A&M, raised the great Sarah Sherman, bye Felicia).
So I am not going to be sad. I am going to be ecstatic. That he will keep coaching. Thank God. He called me one day and said he might get into Real Estate and I flat out told him he was crazy. You are way too good at this Poppa. Keep on coaching. Coach until all you want to do is go out on that crazy boat to Nantucket even though we all tell you it makes us nervous. Because you're changing lives and it's amazing and it would be a downright crime to hold you back. Here is the link to an awesomely enormous decision by my Pops.
Sherman to take over as Head Coach of Massachusett's High School
If you have read this entire crazy rambling blog, my only request is this.
Keep loving sports. Watch them with the passion that they deserve. Somebody's entire life is devoted to the game you are watching. A 9-year old basketball game might have been missed tonight, because this guy had to coach the Boston Celtics.
Love your dad. I have made it perfectly clear that I have wanted a girl for a long time. It is not a secret to anybody that knows me. I like to laugh with everyone about how it is because I would shop for her endlessly (duh) and we would be best friends forever (double duh). It is mostly because my dad is the best man there ever was in my mind. And there is no sweeter relationship, in the entire world, than a daughter and her father. Zac would be the luckiest man in the world to have a daughter and build the kind of relationship I had with my dad. He is the first man I ever loved, and he is the kindest, sweetest soul on the planet.
Dad,
You are the most wonderfully good person I have ever known. When I was growing up, you told me about 2,000 times, I can handle anything in the world, just don't lie to me. Ugh. It took me forever to figure that out. Thank you for teaching me about discipline. And marriage. And honestly. And that I should never hold on to anything tighter than I hold on to my relationship with God.
I know you are going to be moving mountains when you are gone, because that is the kind of person you are. You will influence people so much that they will continue to spread that when you can't do it anymore yourself. And that is all Jesus ever wanted. I don't know why God brought us to these places but I have to believe it's to get us here, where we have our faith, our family, our health, and this relationship. I read 2 things recently that make me feel better.
"My heart is at ease knowing that, what was meant for me will never miss me, and that what misses me was never meant for me."
"In the end only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you."
To the Nauset High School football team,
I hope you understand the coach you are getting. This is no joke. He has a .594 head coaching winning record in the NFL, and he is the most wise man I have ever known. But more importantly, he can guide you in every facet of your life. He will uphold you to the highest standards you have ever known, and he will not let you fail. You will probably hate him before you love him, and then you will never, ever, ever forget him. He might make you learn a 128 page notebook about the west coast offense, but you will also possibly learn the most important life lessons you never knew you needed. Buckle your seat belts. And get ready. PS you might puke during 2-a-days.
"I will go before you, and make the crooked places straight."
Isaiah 45:2
xoxo Big Mama
Sunday, May 10, 2015
A Mother's prayer
Dear Lord,
Thank you for making me a mama. It's all I dreamt of and more. My children are a beautiful mess. They're good and kind and I am trying to teach them about prayer. I know Brooks prayed for a dinosaur phone last night. Sorry about that. I love how whatever we are doing, he makes it his own.
Please watch over Brooks and Luke. Finding my husband and the gift of these boys....they are the best things that have ever happened to me. I pray that my husband wins all his football games for the rest of his life. I know that's probably too much to ask so I'll take 75%. Please watch over those boys of mine Lord, in the swimming pool always, on the playground climbing high things and especially that spider net climbing thing, when they are faced with that big first-time decision to follow or lead, and every time they are faced with the decision to be kind or mean. When they eat McDonalds, let it pass through their body quickly and not linger. Please let them avoid bug bites, bee stings, and most hurt in the world, but I suppose they need a little to grow.
They didn't get to choose their mama. I pray they only hate me a little, just when they are teenagers and I kiss them at drop off. I pray they secretly want to marry someone just like me. A little bit of a hot mess, mostly fun, who lets her mother in law visit whenever she wants. Because I am going to visit you boys all.the.time. I pray they do find love, and it's the kind of love that you get lost in and fight for and they laugh and laugh and laugh. I pray they have children, just the right amount for them, and that moment changes their life for the better just like the gifts you gave me. I pray that I continue to raise them up to follow you and that they want that for their children as well, more than anyone else.
Please help with my worry Lord. I worry every second that they are happy. That something is going to happen to them and I am not going to be there to fix it and prevent it and cocoon them. That I cuddled them enough. That they are going to good people. Help me to put down my phone when it's important and lay on the floor and get lost in a puzzle. Help me to read that Harry and the Bucket full of dinosaurs for the 1,456th time. I don't want to read that book anymore. But I pray you help me to read it with energy at least 200 more times. Give me patience, especially when their little wiry bodies climb into my bed at 3 in the morning. I know they need me, and I pray you help me not get frustrated that they are like a hot little octopus in bed with me slapping me in the face. Help me to brush their hair to the side and rub their back so they fall into that deep sleep where their balloon bellies barely move.
Thank you for making me a mom Lord. I pray your presence is with me in the car line when I am frustrated, at the park when there are mean mommies, in all the most important questions they ask me along the way, and most importantly, continuing to guide me in my marriage to the best man in the world. My relationship with him is the most wonderful gift I can give my kids, and I know the very best thing he has done for our family is show my boys how to treat a wife.
Sometimes I have days where my patience is so thin and I feel like the blind leading the blind. I scold more than I should, I yell more than I ever wanted to, and I feel like I am screwing up this incredible gift you gave me. Please be with me most in these moments. These little people are the finest, loveliest people I have ever known, and I want so badly to do this right.
"Train up a child in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it."
Proverbs 22:6
xoxo Big Mama
Thank you for making me a mama. It's all I dreamt of and more. My children are a beautiful mess. They're good and kind and I am trying to teach them about prayer. I know Brooks prayed for a dinosaur phone last night. Sorry about that. I love how whatever we are doing, he makes it his own.
Please watch over Brooks and Luke. Finding my husband and the gift of these boys....they are the best things that have ever happened to me. I pray that my husband wins all his football games for the rest of his life. I know that's probably too much to ask so I'll take 75%. Please watch over those boys of mine Lord, in the swimming pool always, on the playground climbing high things and especially that spider net climbing thing, when they are faced with that big first-time decision to follow or lead, and every time they are faced with the decision to be kind or mean. When they eat McDonalds, let it pass through their body quickly and not linger. Please let them avoid bug bites, bee stings, and most hurt in the world, but I suppose they need a little to grow.
They didn't get to choose their mama. I pray they only hate me a little, just when they are teenagers and I kiss them at drop off. I pray they secretly want to marry someone just like me. A little bit of a hot mess, mostly fun, who lets her mother in law visit whenever she wants. Because I am going to visit you boys all.the.time. I pray they do find love, and it's the kind of love that you get lost in and fight for and they laugh and laugh and laugh. I pray they have children, just the right amount for them, and that moment changes their life for the better just like the gifts you gave me. I pray that I continue to raise them up to follow you and that they want that for their children as well, more than anyone else.
Please help with my worry Lord. I worry every second that they are happy. That something is going to happen to them and I am not going to be there to fix it and prevent it and cocoon them. That I cuddled them enough. That they are going to good people. Help me to put down my phone when it's important and lay on the floor and get lost in a puzzle. Help me to read that Harry and the Bucket full of dinosaurs for the 1,456th time. I don't want to read that book anymore. But I pray you help me to read it with energy at least 200 more times. Give me patience, especially when their little wiry bodies climb into my bed at 3 in the morning. I know they need me, and I pray you help me not get frustrated that they are like a hot little octopus in bed with me slapping me in the face. Help me to brush their hair to the side and rub their back so they fall into that deep sleep where their balloon bellies barely move.
Thank you for making me a mom Lord. I pray your presence is with me in the car line when I am frustrated, at the park when there are mean mommies, in all the most important questions they ask me along the way, and most importantly, continuing to guide me in my marriage to the best man in the world. My relationship with him is the most wonderful gift I can give my kids, and I know the very best thing he has done for our family is show my boys how to treat a wife.
Sometimes I have days where my patience is so thin and I feel like the blind leading the blind. I scold more than I should, I yell more than I ever wanted to, and I feel like I am screwing up this incredible gift you gave me. Please be with me most in these moments. These little people are the finest, loveliest people I have ever known, and I want so badly to do this right.
"Train up a child in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it."
Proverbs 22:6
xoxo Big Mama
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