Anxiety in Momma land: A Pro/Con List

**This blog post is based solely on my own experiences with my panic disorder, and my own personal demons. It is in no way a reflection of what anxiety looks like to everyone, nor should it be taken as such. This is in no way a complete list of the pro and cons that accompany living with a panic disorder.**

Anxious again. I don't know if I can do this. But my kids are awake. They need me. I don't want to go out there. It's all too much. I can't struggle through another day. But they love me. So I have too. Or do they? Do I love them? Of course I love them. Idiot! Do they know that I love them? I think so... Am I totally screwing up as a parent? Obviously. Five more minutes. They will be ok if I lay here for five more minutes right?! What if they find the cleaning products? Or hang themselves from blinds? Or drown themselves in the sink?! Or what if someone beaks into my house while I'm in the bedroom and gets to my kids before I can?! I can't dwell on that now or I'll never get up, frozen in fear... Sitting up now. That's progress. I'm a mean mom. I should be nicer to my children. Stop yelling at them. Right now.  Am I abusive..? No. Don't go there. Deep breathe. I would never hurt my babies!! Time to feed them... They are watching cartoons again because I can't seem to get it together. I hope they aren't addicted to it... They've eaten though. Diapers are clean, so at least there's that. I need to bathe them. I'm not doing enough! Why am I not doing more?! I'm a terrible mother and an even worse housekeeper, so why try. I'm frozen out of fear. More TV it is. Deep breathe. Baby steps. No more sitting around. Time to go to work. I'm stronger than this. I am a good momma, I am a good momma, I am a good momma, I love my kids...

Hi. My name is Tiffany, and I have a panic disorder combined with a type of OCD called "Super O." It's not as "super" as it sounds. Trust me. My emotional demons get in the way of my being the mother and wife that I want to be, and sometimes they steal my mommahood all together. In the midst of my battles though, I try to keep in mind that while having a panic disorder can be daunting, it can also have an up side. Anxiety has taught me a lot about myself. What my limits are. Things that scare me. How to keep going when it seems impossible to do so, and what I refuse to be defined by. Here are a few of the pros and cons that I've noticed in my short time fighting with this intrusive dragon that keeps me on my toes.

Heightened Senses

Being anxious means that your fight or flight response is triggered, making your senses more efficient. You are now better able to calculate how to fight off some ninjas, or get the heck out of dodge, should you need too.

Pro: I am acutely aware of what is going on around me when anxious. Painfully so. From my husband talking to me, to my toddler rolling around on the floor, singing to herself, to my cat sleeping on the couch, the dryer running, my dog looking in the window, and my boys squealing at each other. I know what's up. If you ever lose track of someone in a public place, and I'm feeling anxious, I'm your girl! It comes in especially handy in a crowd of people where I need to keep all eyes focused on my babies. Like at the zoo or the grocery store. Where did my kids go? They're right there. They just finished jumping up and down. Now Nathan is yelling at Lily to get up off the floor and stop laying on "his" blue tile. She just yelled back, "you have to share!" Matthew is on my lap licking my arm. Thanks for noticing...

Con: Every little thing my kids do, drives me bananas. Especially the noise level. It's like sensory overload. You try telling your toddlers that the their singing is like nails against a chalk board, or that if they don't stop saying momma, momma is gonna lose it.They could not even be making a noise with their mouths. Just tapping their leg against their chair, or making their toy car or train fly around the room. Perfectly normal kid sounds. Just too much for this anxious mess. This is when I try to take a deep breathe, and send them upstairs to play, or turn on a movie, because I know that they aren't trying to bug me, but I have to get right in the head, or my anxiety will make me lash out. That's not fair to them. It isn't their fault. Period. They are just kids, being kids!

Emotionally Sensitive to Others

Sometimes it feels like a super power to be able to know when some is going through something hard, or is feeling something intense. Being emotionally aware of other people's feelings makes you more approachable and friendly to those around you.

Pro: Making friends comes naturally to me, and I cherish that gift! People like to talk to me, and I enjoy talking to them. It makes both parties feel loved and cared about. Being able to sense when someone needs you, and being able to let them into your world is a beautiful thing that most friendships are based on. I am very grateful for my close friends and family members that cherish me, even though I'm a nut job. This skill has also taught me boundaries. I NEED boundaries. I know that I can only give so much, or my family, and myself suffer because of it. I am only willing to let very few people into my inner sanctum to see me at my most anxious. That is a very private, and vulnerable place that very few people are permitted to see, as I don't really care to be hurt. I don't need your opinion on what my panic attack looks like to you, because you aren't the one experiencing it, nor do I care to listen to you try to calm me down. I am trying. Being anxious is painful enough. Let's not make it worse. It's a form of self protection.

Con: I could be giving from an empty well. Being emotionally in tune and an empathetic person means that I give a lot more than I get back a lot of the time, and not being able to help someone because I can barely help myself is the worst feeling in the world. Anxiety takes its toll on my emotions, and makes them feel about 1000% heavier than they really are. Anxiety is selfish. It steals my love and compassion and turns them into fear, anger, and sadness, immobilizing me. I can't give love, if I don't get love back, but mommahood is thankless, tired, repetitive work. I also struggle asking for help when I need it. I want to appear put together and not like the anxious mess of crazy rampaging thoughts that I really am, so I isolate myself, rather than becoming vulnerable, and reaching out.

Always Prepared

Look to an anxious person when you need stuff and you aren't at home. The boy scout motto "be prepared" is an understatement.

Pro: I find myself, and I think others do this as well, sometimes jumping to the worst case scenario. Okay, maybe more than sometimes, but still. The point I'm trying to get across is that when I go out with my kiddos, I am always ultra prepared with at least the basics for most scenarios. Snacks? Got 'em. For me and the kids? Done. Toys? Yup. Diapers? Check. Wipes? Definitely. Hand sanitizer? You got it. Bandaids? Yup. Water? For sure! Motrin in case I get a headache? Yes. Gum? Uh huh. Back up clothes for each kid? Check, check, check. Sunscreen? Why not? Plastic bag to place soiled clothes in? Got it. Nursing cover? Check! Pacifier? Attached to the baby. Blanket for said baby? Also with the baby. Cell phone? Done. Credit cards? Yup... The list goes on. Point is, you need it? I have it. Most of the time. If I don't? I'm so sorry... I am learning to differentiate between what could really happen and what couldn't. But let's face it, we can't control everything, so being prepared is my way of coping. Dealing with the things I CAN control. And praying. Lots and lots of praying.

Con: I wake up, and before I even get out of bed, you can bet I've thought about what I would do if someone with a knife or a gun broke into my house, and how I would protect my family from the intruder, what I would do if one or all my family members died, and how awful it would be if I died, leaving my husband and children alone. Phew! What a morning. I am constantly plagued with these irrational, what/if scenarios. The current plague is about a car accident killing my husband. Every time he leaves the house I worry that he won't come back. Talk about your Debbie downer right? I have thought through all the awfulness that accompanies this scenario and know what I would do if that horrible day ever comes. On a different note, it takes me FOREVER to get ready to go anywhere, because I have to be painstakingly thorough with the preparations. Also? My diaper bag weighs like 30 lbs. Just ask my husband. It's his favorite.

You guys. Anxiety is a really real thing that plagues a lot of people today. It takes on many different shapes and forms, but is so very real to the people it touches. Know that you do not struggle alone, nor do you need to suffer in silence. My favorite pro that I've gained from my experiences with fighting my demons is the relationship I have with my husband. He has been my rock. My port in the storm, my safe place, and my comforter. Strong but silent. Always willing to stand by me and take my hand when I'm too weak to fight it alone. I love him and the way that we've learned to cope with my struggles together. He's never once given up on me. My other ace in the hole is my bestie. She has heard me on my darkest days, and been with me on my best days. I couldn't imagine a better guiding light, and pillar of strength than her. She is one of the strongest women I know. Good can come of this disease. This is not the end. Rather the beginning of a beautiful journey toward a more grounded, and stable you. You got this.

Thought Bubbles

Have you ever sat there, staring at this beautiful being before and thought, what the on earth goes on inside that sweet little brain of theirs? I often wonder. If my son had thought bubbles, our conversations would go a little more like this.

Momma: "Nathan, why did you do that?!"

 Nathan: "Because I need too!"

Nathan: (Insert thought bubble here). "When I say I need too Momma, what I'm really trying to say is that I need to experiment with this new idea and test it out to see if it is a good idea or a bad idea. If this is indeed a bad idea or causes me harm in any way, I may continue on my path, or I may choose a slightly different less troublesome option, but only should I deem it so, hence the need to test out my theory. My response may seem odd to you, but in all honesty, 'because I need too' is a very fitting answer to your question of why. Make sense?"

Momma: "...Oh... Well yeah. But please don't do again."

Nathan: "But I need too!!"

 Nathan's thought bubble: "But in order to be absolutely certain that the thing you are asking about will have the same end result, I must try it again. Repeatedly. I am after all in my 'little scientist' phase. You do want me to explore the world, and how different actions have different outcomes, don't you?"

Momma: "Well, yes, but..."

Nathan: "Please can I do this?"

Nathan's though bubble: "I can see that my actions are causing you pain. Should I stop or do it again. The time out might be worth it, if I am indeed on the verge of a scientific break through. I can stop if you want me too though Momma. It's no big deal. I'm just trying to solve one of life's little everyday mysteries to the best of my two year old capabilities. Is that ok Momma?"

Momma: "...Carry on..."

We may never know what truly happens in the minds of our young children, but it certainly makes me want to eat my humble pie in silence. Let go of the fear, loosen up, and let them explore. They are after all only trying to understand this big world that they call home. Accidents happen, Mistakes are made. Stains are inevitable, and so are broken dishes. These are merely things that have little meaning or significance when compared with the wonder and value of the little blue-eyed, red-headed, genius that stands before you. Take a deep breath and try to soak it all in...

Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of...

A two year old! I wrote a post about this a few months ago, but my son is still two, so you will continue to hear about our escapades. Here is a list of pros and cons associated with having a two year old.

                                                                  Pros List
Pro #1: Playtime. Playing with a two year old is like working out, minus the monotony, and with the added bonus of laughter! Deep, heartfelt, genuine laughter. Nathan loves to play "tickle tickle," and laughs hysterically when I decide to tickle his over ticklish little thighs. This kind of laughter is contagious. If you hear strange noises coming from the living room, please don't worry. It's just me and Nathan impersonating hyenas, and having the time of our lives.

Pro #2: Curiosity. Nathan is so intrigued by everything around him. He wants to know how it all works. I love to watch his little face as he tries to figure out how to do something, and the look of sheer excitement when he gets it right. "Look momma! I did it! I figured it out!" He even goes so far as to say, "I did it!"  My little scientist!

Pro #3 Momma's little helper. Nathaniel loves to help out with things. He is so desperate for approval and trying so hard to do things right, and he learns best through trial and error. Any kind of positive feed back, and his face lights up.  Now, a two year old's version of 'helping" may not seem that helpful, but it's the idea that counts. For example, one of Nate's favorite things to help momma do, is dishes. His version of helping is standing on the kitchen chair, and running things under the water. He makes a huge mess, but, he is "helping." The key here, is to remember that by letting Nate help in whatever capacity he is able to, I am not only making him more self-sufficient, but I am teaching him that what he does, and how he does it is important, and that I value him as the cute and sweet boy he is.

Pro #4 Talking. I love to being able to understand a lot of what Nathaniel says. It makes taking care of him a lot easier. Some of my favorite words of his are "nose," which he says with his lips puckered, nose crinkled and very nasaly, "peek a boo," "I love you," which sounds a lot like "I lellow," and "strawberry." He says "strawberry" more like gerry, but you get the idea.

                                                                  Cons List

Con #1 Playtime. It's exhausting! Nathan has the most energy of any little person I have ever met. He runs around the living room in circles, jumps off the couches, rolls around on the floor, jumps around like a frog, and loves to wrestle to name only a few of his favorite games. At times, I feel like I don't even need to go to the gym, because I just lifted Nathan in the air for the umpteenth time to make him fly, which he also loves, and I can no longer lift my arms.

Con #2 Curiosity. Sensing a pattern? It's on purpose. More on that later. Curiosity, while able to make your heart melt into a puddle of mush on the ground, also has the profound ability to become very, very upsetting, very quickly. For example, when my son thinks to himself, "I wonder what would happen if I throw my shoe at the baby..." Or one my personal favorites, "does this crayon color on the walls too?!" Needless to say, curiosity can be a double edged sword.

Con #3 Momma's little helper. Nathan loves to bring me things. Lots of things. Like everything within his sight line that belongs to him. Or to me. Or to the baby. Or to my husband. It's cute the first three times, but after that I start to feel like a human pack mule. Picture me, buried under a mountain of toys, clothes, and assorted baby items. Keep laughing folks. This happens on a daily basis. It's not just that he hands me things either. It's the playing around in the garbage can after he has thrown something away, splashing in the puddle he just made from spilling his water, and bringing me ALL of the baby diapers, instead of just the one that I need. There should be a warning label with toddlers. Caution: encourage your toddler to help you at your own risk. The simple task you anticipate will most likely not go according to plan. You've been warned.

Con #4 Talking. Yup. You guessed it. Along with talking, comes the ability to talk back or yell at momma. Nate is very good at this. You see, when I try to give him something that he doesn't want, like a banana for example instead of cheese, he will say very loudly, "No! I don't want a banana!!!"Heaven forbid I should give him the wrong thing. Clearly I should be able to read his mind by now. Nathan also tries to tell the cat no, and the baby no when she's upset. He may even just yell no, and dissolve into tears and screaming when I tell him no, ask him the wrong question, or look at him funny for that matter.

Disclaimer: this is by no means a complete list of pros and cons, and every age has its ups and downs. The point I am trying to make here is that, having a toddler is the best thing in the world sometimes and other times is downright terrifying. So why do we do it? What's the point of putting up with all of this? Most people who have an annoying, or unpredictable job quit for something more stable and enjoyable. The reason is this: no matter what we always love them. Whether we are pro-toddler today, or anti-toddler today, those sweet kisses, hugs, and deep piercing eyes that look straight into our souls, reel us back in every time. So, we deal with the double-edged sword that is parenting a toddler, for they are all so fiercely loved.

Labor, Delivery, and Beyond!

As many of you know, I recently gave birth to my sweet six week old baby girl Lily. For those of you that didn't know, well, now you do. I figured it was about time that I posted about my experience with labor and delivery, for anyone who may be interested in hearing my story.

Let's go back to the day my mom, the ever wonderful and fabulous, Christine Matthews arrived in town with my adorable little brother John in tow. She arrived on the 25th of September, a Wednesday, which was two days after my due date, and I still hadn't delivered. I was starting to get worried, as well as increasingly uncomfortable. My thought process was as follows, "what if the baby doesn't come while my mom is here?! I want my mom to meet her! She's only in town for six days! Come on baby! I really don't want to make it to my Dr's appointment on Friday! I want you out!!!" On top of those worries, my sweet husband was attempting to finish up his finals. In the mean time, my mom, my husband and I were doing everything in our power to get Lily to make her grand entrance. We started out by going to "Scalini's" which is an Italian restaurant that is notorious for sending women into labor with their eggplant parmesan. It had been recommended to me by several other momma's who had had babies. So, off we went to Scalini's with high hopes, and hungry bellies.

After dinner, we sat around and waited to see if anything would happen. It didn't. We had an uneventful night, and went to bed. Thursday morning was also uneventful, as was the afternoon. We waited patiently for my husband to finish with his finals so that we could go on a walk. Once Vincent got done, we all went over to Mud Creek Soccer Complex, and started to walk around their half mile walking trail. Well, during one of the laps, I started to have some contractions. They got to a point where they were any where from two to six minutes apart and pretty painful, so after walking two miles, we decided to head home, hydrate, and keep counting contractions. Disclaimer- I had been having contraction on and off since labor day, and had gone to the hospital the week before with false labor, so we were hopeful, but cautious. After counting contractions for several hours, I was getting hungry and had to pee. Yes, that is important to the story. I got up, had a snack, used the restroom, and shortly there after, my contractions stopped. Done. Gone. Like nothing had ever happened. We all went to bed, a little disappointed, but hopeful about the next day.

Friday morning came, and we went back to Mud Creek Soccer Complex to walk again. I met my friend there, and we walked a couple of laps together. I was having some contractions on and off, but nothing regular or consistent enough to mean anything. Disappointed again, we went home and got ready for my doctor's appointment. I went in hoping to hear some good news, but to my dismay, there wasn't much change from my previous appointment. The midwife I met with set an induction date for the following Tuesday, stripped my membranes (for the third time), and told me to go have a baby. Seriously? Like I wasn't trying already... The membrane stripping led to some pretty painful contractions. We went to Chick-fil-A for dinner, and I would have to stop and breathe through a contraction every few minutes. These contractions were more consistent, and lasted longer; some of them as long as a minute and half to two minutes! I was in some serious pain! We went home and kept counting contractions, but they started to slow down again. I was pretty tired by this point, having walked so much the past few days and not sleeping much either, but I ventured outside with my husband, in the middle of the night to try to keep the contractions going. It didn't work. Tired and frustrated we all went to bed again. (My mom had been up with us, counting contractions).

Saturday morning dawned, and with it came more contractions. They were few and far between, but very painful. I contracted about every time I stood up, which made doing anything very difficult. I was really starting to worry that the pain would never end, and that my poor mom and brother would have to go home with nothing to report. It was very upsetting. Well, I was pretty tired Saturday, so the only exciting thing we did was go grocery shopping, stopping every so often for a contraction. Once we got home, the contractions started to pick up again. With low hopes, and feeling like I would be pregnant forever, we started to count contractions again. This was time was different though. The contractions were painful to the point of tears, so around midnight my mom suggested that we go to the hospital. So we did. We got checked in, and found out that even though I was having really painful contractions, I hadn't progressed at all! I was so mad! I seriously felt like Lily was never coming, and that I would be in pain for the rest of my life! Well, they kept me for two hours to see if things would move along at all, and by the end of the second hour I was still in a lot of pain, but hadn't progressed much. The nurse offered me a shot of Demerol, which I didn't take, and discharged us. I was contracting so badly, that I had to be wheeled out of the hospital in a wheel chair to go home (This was around three in the morning). I had had it. I cried. I was so disappointed, frustrated, and in the worst pain of life that I got down on all fours in front of my house and just balled. How could I be in so much pain and not have it amount to anything! After crawling inside, and crying to my mom, I took some Tylenol pm, like the nurse had suggested, and tried to sleep. 

I couldn't stay asleep. I kept waking up in excruciating pain, and panicking because the Tylenol wasn't even touching the contractions and only made me sleepy. My husband was trying to put pressure on my tailbone to help the pain, but it wasn't helping anymore. I was at my wits end, and trembling in pain. Thank goodness for my mom. She suggested we call the hospital and see if I could still get that shot of Demerol that was originally prescribed, so I called them and they told me, to my dismay, that we would have to re-check in, and go through entire process over again. I was upset, but willing to go just to get some relief. So near six o'clock in the morning, we checked back into the hospital. We went over to triage and I grabbed onto the railing and crouched down to get through a contraction as the nurse asks me, "so what brings you in tonight?" You'd think it would be obvious to these people... It was different nurse than the one who checked me in originally. I told her I was having some really painful contractions, and they got me set up in one of the rooms. The nurse checked me, as I was praying like crazy that I had actually progressed, and told me I was at a five (cm) and having a baby. I couldn't be more relieved! This was it! The big moment we had been waiting for. It was finally here! 

The nurses gave me a little pain medication through my IV that made me very dizzy and wheeled me to a delivery room. After a short time the pain medication wore off, and I decided to go with the epidural. I was against it at first, but after being in pain for so long, it was a welcome relief. After the epidural was in, they checked me again. This part gets a little fuzzy but my husband thinks I was at an eight, so they broke my water and decided to give me a little pitocin to move things along. After finally sleeping for a couple of hours, I felt the need to push. The midwife came in, and after three pushes, my husband was able to help deliver our beautiful baby girl Lily. She was born at 11:48 am, weighing 7 lbs, 1 oz, and measuring 19.5 inches long. We had done it! She was finally here! I couldn't believe it! It was finally over! 

After 24 hours, some birthday cake, and a couple of visitors we were discharged from the hospital. The nurse was concerned about Lily's bilirubin levels. For those who don't know, that is what they look for when determining if a baby has jaundice aside from yellowy skin. Her bilirubin levels were still a little high at her last check up, and we are waiting to see if they have gone down enough this next time. She has a slight cold right now, but hopefully that will clear up in the next day or so. After a nasty encounter with mastitis and a bad case of croup (Nate), we are finally on the mend and trying to get back to some semblance of a routine. 

We love our little Lilybug so much! She is just too precious and sweet for words. She is a pretty good natured baby, but a little more fussy than her big brother was. Nathaniel is a sweet, albeit jealous at times, big brother, who loves to run over and help the baby when she cries, or hug and hold her when he can. Life is sweet my friends. Life is sweet. 

The Terrible Twos

Hello! Its been while since I posted, but I have some thoughts on the early stages of the terrible twos.

Nathaniel has been pushing his limits lately. Those of you with children toddler age, or older will understand what this means. It is beyond frustrating! The worst part? He knows that what he's doing is wrong, and still goes off to do it, with a devious little grin on his face, staring right at me, as I am telling him no, and threatening time out through gritted teeth. Has anyone else ever felt like they were going to have an aneurysm or a heart attack when this happens? It makes me so crazy! In the words of a friend I was talking to recently, "its a good thing he's so cute..." Its a VERY good thing that Nathan is so cute and that I love him so much...

Another hard part about the terrible twos is the timing! I mean really Nathan. Did you have to start pushing your limits right now?! I am nine months pregnant, and just don't have the energy to fight with you, and chase you around. Its too bad telling you no from across the room doesn't really seem to work...

Long story short? The terrible twos are just plain terrible. Its a constant game and its exhausting work, both mentally and physically. I pray for patience with my son on a regular basis. Nathan is not always pushing his limits, and often gives hugs, kisses, high fives, fist pumps, and giggles. Those are the moments I hold out for.

I am Momma! Hear me Roar!!!

I have come the realization that Momma's are some of the toughest fighters out there. We fight for many different reasons but something always brings us back to these simple truths. We are fighting for our families and children. Against impossible odds, we stand together, bringing our children close. We are strong. We are strong enough.

Sister Julie B. Beck (former Relief Society General President) said it this way, "The responsibility mothers have today has never required more vigilance. More than at any time in the history of the world, we need mothers who know. Children are being born into a world where they “wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Ephesians 6:12). However, mothers need not fear. When mothers know who they are and who God is and have made covenants with Him, they will have great power and influence for good on their children."

In an ever darkening world, it has become necessary not only to fight for what we believe to be right, but to fight to keep the very fabric of our families from ripping apart at the seams. Satan would have us all believe that what we do as Mommas is not enough, and that in the end, he will win. What do we have to say to this? We say, No! You will not win! You do not have a say in this household. I am Momma! Hear me Roar!!!

"Mothers who know do less. They permit less of what will not bear good fruit eternally. They allow less media in their homes, less distraction, less activity that draws their children away from their home. Mothers who know are willing to live on less and consume less of the world’s goods in order to spend more time with their children—more time eating together, more time working together, more time reading together, more time talking, laughing, singing, and exemplifying. These mothers choose carefully and do not try to choose it all. Their goal is to prepare a rising generation of children who will take the gospel of Jesus Christ into the entire world. Their goal is to prepare future fathers and mothers who will be builders of the Lord’s kingdom for the next 50 years. That is influence; that is power."

You may be fighting to keep your family together, have a relationship with a withdrawn teenager, or simply to have your children get along for more than two minutes at a time, but no matter the reason, remember this: You are a Momma. Every word you say, and every work you do, no matter how small, is noticed! You are the one keeping your family strong in the faith, and standing up against the evil influences that would tear you and your family apart. You are a guardian of virtue.

Sister Julie B. Beck says, "Who will prepare this righteous generation of sons and daughters? Latter-day Saint women will do this—women who know and love the Lord and bear testimony of Him, women who are strong and immovable and who do not give up during difficult and discouraging times. We are led by an inspired prophet of God who has called upon the women of the Church to “stand strong and immovable for that which is correct and proper under the plan of the Lord.” He has asked us to “begin in [our] own homes” to teach children the ways of truth. Latter-day Saint women should be the very best in the world at upholding, nurturing, and protecting families. I have every confidence that our women will do this and will come to be known as mothers who “knew” (Alma 56:48)..."

To all my Momma friends, members of my church or not, you are an inspiration. Your endless strength, your enduring courage, your never ending patience, constant sacrifice and kindness unending inspire me to be a better mother and continue to fight for my own small family. You are lights among darkness. Pillars of strength. Fighters to the bitter end for those you call your own. Thank you for your inspiration. 

(Excerpts were taken from the the April 2007 General Conference talk given by Sister Julie B. Beck entitled, "Mothers Who Know").

Here we go Again

Hey all! Since finding out that I am pregnant again, I have been both nervous, and excited. I have also been very tired, pretty cranky, and down right impatient at times. Being pregnant, while having another child to care for is no picnic!

When I found out I was pregnant with my sweet baby boy Nathaniel, things were different. I only had to worry about me, myself, and I. If I didn't feel well, I could rest. If I was tired, I could take a nap. If I had a headache, again, I could rest. I didn't have any one depending on me, except my husband, who is pretty self-sufficient. This time around, I find myself having to care for not only my self, but for the cutest, sweetest, little boy ever. But lets be honest. No amount of cuteness is going to get rid of that nagging fatigue, that just doesn't go away, or ease your throbbing head.

How, for example, do you communicate to a fourteen month old that he can't run around the house screaming, because Momma's head might simply explode? Or, that no matter how cute and fun it is to play chase, Mommy just doesn't have the energy to keep up? Or my personal favorite, how do I explain to Nathan that I can longer be his jungle gym, because it just plain hurts too much? Sadly, you can't. So, I find myself loosing patience over the most simple, and silly things that are harmless, yet so unbelievably irksome nowadays.

Our conversations go something like this, "Nathan! Do NOT turn your sippy cup upside down, and pour the water out!!! How many times do I have to tell you?!" Nathan replies, with a very innocent look on his face, "Dada?" "No son. Dada is not here. That's it. Time for a nap!" And so, more often than not, my escape is putting him down for a "nap," in other words,"Momma needs a break, and you my child, need to not be in the room so I can calm down. I love you, but right now, you're killin' me smalls..."

And so? More often than not, I am a bit more snappy than I mean to be, or lose patience over silly little things. My escape? Naptime or time outs, with Netflix or Pottermore. Works every time.