VOICES

SO MANY VOICES. Like wow.

Everyone’s like, hey, I got something to say!

And I’M SURE YOU DO! Don’t we all? I feel like there are only a few times in my life when I’ve honest to goodness been rendered speechless because for the most part, I have something to say about it all.

Now, what I have to say on the matter, I will most assuredly speak with passion and then a few weeks later, I will gather more information and probably recant what I spoke so vehemently about several weeks prior. It’s exhausting. And it leaves my very Enneagram Type 1 self feel so dejected and disenchanted with myself.

Side bar: I think the Enneagram is a great tool, not the Gospel and not always true, but can be beneficial in relationships. In fact, the Enneagram is one of the topics that I used to talk about all the time. I was a huge proponent. Then I did some more research and came up with some things that made me question it. But I still find it helpful in some ways.

Now before you get all SJW on me, don’t hear what I’m not saying. There are some very real things happening in our country and in our world that some people need to wake up and recognize. Things that have kept me up at night. Things I have pleaded with God about. Things I didn’t want to know but have to know.

I feel like there are absolutely times to speak up and speak out.

BUT

Every issue? No.

Every circumstance? No.

Every injustice? No.

Wait...... I shouldn’t speak up and out about EVERY INJUSTICE?? WHY NOT??!!? 

People need to know where I stand right? They have to know right from wrong and who else will speak it to them for ME?!??! 

Oh wow. Have I ever toiled over this subject.

Listen friend.

Sometimes, it’s just noise. It’s just more noise. And there’s so much freaking noise out there, that no one is even listening anymore. Everyone is numb. It’s like driving down the highway with 3 hours left to go and the baby and 2 and 3 year old are all 3 screaming and/or singing and at some point you just turn off the radio because there’s TOO MUCH NOISE. You now are staring at the road before you, unable to form a conscious thought. Am I right?

You know why I make my bigger kids who don’t nap anymore have a quiet time?

Because it’s important to rest. It’s extremely important to learn to be quiet and still. We don’t always have to be on. We don’t always have to run at level 10. It’s a healthy, good and dare I say, biblical practice to SHUT THE HECK UP SCHNEEBLY. (10 points if you can guess that movie reference!)

And so, in conclusion, I say, give yourself permission. Permit yourself a little grace to not always take up your sword. I’m hearing a lot of this, “Your silence means you side with the enemy” type message. I’m sorry well-known author but I’m also hearing “Where words are many, sin abounds.” (Proverbs 10:19)

Permit yourself to not have to weigh in on every subject. To not call everyone out. And please for the love of Pete, find a way to laugh a little.

I’ve recently taken up recreation. I know, I know. It sounds silly. But for years, I have spent every one of my waking moments, reading non-fictions, not watching tv (especially in the last 6-12months), and if I’m not reading, I’m listening to a sermon, teaching or podcast. Constant feed of good, rich stuff, but 

all. so. serious.

So, I’ve recently started watching Heartland. Now, I’m not proud to admit that I have never binged harder than I have with Heartland. It’s like taking a starving kid to a grocery store. You gotta take baby steps ya know? Well, I didn’t. I’m currently on Season 10 and I won’t give you any spoilers but, can I just say... TAKE ME TO CALGARY!!!

I mean really, where’s my Canadian passport already? Also, Santa, I want a horse. I need to ride with the wind in my hair! I need a horse. I want to “tack” up a horse and “muck” out their stall. JK about that last part.

Can I just tell you guys a funny thing about this though, in all seriousness? I honestly feel like bringing a little bit of fun and laughter and just overall ... relief... is making me a better mom and wife. That sounds crazy. But I feel like, all I have done for years is just trying to read and consume as much literature and teachings as I can to be a “responsible adult” and my poor anxiety-ridden body and brain are exhausted!

I need life! I need adventure! I need a horse!

I also believe that God made me to love a good story. Ask anyone that knows me, I tell the longest ones. Too many details. #sorrynotsorry

I almost felt guilty for watching anything other than American Gospel or a documentary when I turned on Netflix. But ya’ll the world is so heavy right now. We all need to lighten up a bit.

This is what you need to do:

1) Shut the heck up Schneebly. (Pronounced SHNAY-BLAY)

2) Go pour out your heart to Jesus and then LISTEN TO JESUS.

3) Grab your fave snack.

4) Go turn on S1E1 of Heartland. It’s on Netflix. Go. Run. (When Calls the Heart is a goodie too.)

5) Enjoy.

There you have my very rigorous, 5 step program for surviving the seriousness of this world. Who knows.... a couple seasons in, you might feel just good enough to get back in the ring.

Ya’ll. God is our avenger. He IS coming to right every wrong. And he knew about allllll this stuff long before we found out about it. Let the Holy Spirit convict. God is working all things together for our good.

Praying you find rest in that.

life as I know it.

so I realized I haven't blogged since the coming of our sweet girl, Winslow Raegan.
and that my friends is a tragedy. she is now 4 1/2 months. wow. they aren't kidding you when they say that the older you get the faster time flies. it's so true.

after her 1st bath at home

but man. I'm loving the whole stay-at-home mom thing. and not because it's so "cush." haha.
all the stay-at-home mom's out there laugh with me now. no it's great though.
it's fairly stress free in a sense.
I LOVE her. I was telling a group of high school senior girls yesterday what it's like loving her.
you know, we married people say to each other sometimes... "I love you more each day." but now that I have actually experienced that, I know that I haven't really fallen more in love with Garrett EVERY day.
at least not like I have with Winslow.
I had a scoche (sp?) of postpartum after she was born. for about a month, I couldn't be myself.
it honestly started getting better when breastfeeding started getting better... not surprised if those are related. I connected with her.. and loved her even, but not like I thought I should.
then one day it just started kinda clicking. but ya know, I can HONESTLY say that today I love her more than yesterday. and yesterday more than the day before. I am living it and I can feel it... ya know? like everyday, being a mom gets a little bit more awesome. I don't know if it will always feel like that. and that's ok if not. I mean there have already been days when Garrett has come home & I've said, "Here. Take her, and do with her what you want. I'm taking an extremely long shower." or I've cried about not feeling like a good mom because good mom's don't get breaks or even need them and they don't get so easily frustrated with ONE child.
Garrett is so good at speaking truth to me.

1 month old.

yesterday I slipped a Baby Einstein disc in the DVD player and laid my babe on floor.
She laid there doing tummy time glued to the tv while I curled up on the couch with my devotional & my husband's Bible (my favorite commentary) and read for a bit. It struck me how my life has changed and how you really must "roll with the punches." As I sat there reading and meeting with God to the tunes of Baby Mozart and the sound of a pleasant sounding woman saying, "Wave," "Stand Up!", "Clap!", I remembered the times at the Honor Academy when I would set up my meeting times with the Lord like some elaborate romantical date.
low lighting,
blanket in the floor,
Misty Edwards-ish music playing softly in the background,
journal & Bible out...
and sometimes for hours, I would lay there reading.. writing... scribbling.. underlining... praying... 

now I read a couple verses, then run to get a burp rag because in the second part of verse 16, she spit up all over the shag rug... which is the hardest type of rug to clean by the way. it goes down deep.

so my life is now out of control. haha.
I used to have it in control.
I used to keep my house so clean.
I used to have a flat tummy.
I used to get out in the cold.
I used to stay out late.
I used to do what I wanted.

3 months old. - Merry Christmas!

but with my messy house, flabby stomach, crazy dog & short and sporadic quiet times.... I find rest. I find rest in my God who has made all things beautiful in it's time. beautiful looks a little different than I thought it would. but it's better.

life is so beautiful. and I'm realizing... it always has been. it's just always changing to a different kind of beautiful... even a better kind.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."     -Ecc. 3:11

4 1/2 months.

Winslow Raegan Day - September 5, 2013 - Birth Story

I can't believe I am writing this almost two years later. I figured better late than never.

(I am writing this on 7/29/15 and backdating it.)

Without any further a due, Winslow's Birth Story:

I reached my due date (Sept 1) and knew there wasn't a baby coming that day.

It was a Sunday & Garrett decided we would go on a long walk. by long walk, I mean 3 hours through a few neighborhoods. by the end of it I was in pain, feeling like my belly was gonna split open and she was gonna fall right out on the asphalt. (graphic, I know.. pregnancy does this to you.) 

for the next couple days I could barely walk. our 3 hr adventure had left me extremely sore and I felt it for days. 

I had a doctors appointment on that Tuesday. My midwife that I had been using and LOVED had been extremely sick and in the ICU with Septic Pneumonia. I had been seeing the other midwife which was fine because she was very nice. But she wasn't as ok with me going as long as I wanted to wait for natural labor. My original midwife was fine with me waiting as long as I wanted. so at this appointment, she told me that she thought I was carrying about an 8.5-9lb baby & thought we should induce.

I did NOT want to induce even one tiny bit but after talking it over with Garrett, he felt we should trust her and we decided to go ahead with induction. I went in on Wednesday night, September 4. the hope was that by sometime the next afternoon, Winslow would be in our arms. They started me on a dose of Cytotec at midnight & told me it doesn't usually do anything so they would give me the other dose at 3am then Pitocin at 6am. I was nervous about all of this especially Cytotec because it has a high rate of maternal deaths but after talking to the midwife for a long time on the phone previous to being admitted, she was confident in it and so we went ahead.

this wasn't the plan, not what I'd been envisioning for 9.5 months. there was a good bit of anxiety as we began the whole process. I can remember the drive to the hospital in our little car just Garrett and I. I'll probably never forget it. It was dark out. Traffic was pretty slow. We were silent. We were anxious. We were holding hands. We were ready to meet our sweet girl but also cherishing the final moments as "just us" knowing that when we got back in the car, the empty car seat in the back wouldn't be so empty anymore.

After they started me on the Cytotec, they left me to [try to] sleep. I knew in 3 hrs they would be back to give me more so I just tried my hardest with all the cords and monitors on me to sleep as much as I could. which was none. Garrett was down at the end of the room sawing logs so when labor kicked in at 2:30am, I started trying to groan and make noise to get him to wake up. he would not, which if you know him and his sleep habits at all, you aren't surprised. so I finally resorted to shouting his name which he finally roused and came over to me to rub my back and do some counter pressure. my goal in labor was never to go all natural but to go as long as I could before getting an epidural since I had heard that it slows down your labor. I kept thinking, "Just make it to a 6, make it to a 6..."

When I went into labor, my whole body kind of "popped" and I thought my water had broken so we called the nurse and she checked but she said it hadn't so I'm still not sure what that was. All I know is the pain started. I was dilated to a 5 at that point, (walked in at a 4). I had been dilated to a 1 early (33wks) so they put me on pelvic rest but had been a 3 for a few weeks. The pain started coming and so they gave me something called Stadol in my IV and it was AWFUL. Didn't help with the pain at all and made me extremely loopy. They decided against a second dose of Cytotec since I was already in labor but gave me a second dose of Stadol and the second I got it, I went to sleep. I remember Garrett saying, "Wow. I could ask you anything right now. Would you ever kiss a goat?" I told him, "Yes but only on the cheek."

I told him it felt like someone was taking my abdomen out and smacking it into the outfield with a bat.

Stadol did a number on me and it took me DAYS (no exaggeration) to sleep it off. 

At 4am I didn't care where I was anymore, dilation wise, I wanted the epidural.

They gave it to me but I was already a 7 so I felt good about that. Then we slept for 1hr. At 5am they came in to check on me and I was fully dilated. so we called in the crew. Grandparents, cousins, aunts & uncles began arriving. But we didn't start pushing for HOURS. 

Seriously, I started pushing at 8am. That's what is frustrating about epidurals.. they don't get in a hurry to come start the pushing. I kept thinking, "If I'm fully dilated, is she just gonna fall out? They better get here soon!"

I didn't expect for pushing to be as hard as it was. It was like a workout! I guess I thought since I had an epidural, it would be easy to push but no... you're pushing a BABY out of your body. it's hard work. 

Winslow Raegan arrived at 9:13am weighing 7lbs 13oz and was 21in long. She came out with the thickest head of hair I'd ever seen on a baby and I was just sure she wasn't mine. but she was. and is.

I remember they laid her on my chest and told us the rub her and clean her off. I was so loopy from the Stadol that my limbs moved so slow but I remember every moment of it. It was crazy. The anticipation of her arrival was over but there was even more starting for her whole life, for what she would be, look like, what motherhood would be like.

She was perfect! TONS of "storkbites" that were all supposed to go away. All of them did... save one. He told us they would all fade tho, so when I took her newborn photos and was editing them, I edited the one that stayed out. Her Strawberry Hemangioma stayed, but has faded SOOOOO much. I'm kinda sad it's going away even tho our pediatrician told us it would.

She has her daddy's toes, smile and crazy spirit. 

I'll never forget the day we were blessed with a safe and easy delivery but most importantly, a sweet baby girl.