Mama Bear

So, once upon a time (before I was a mom), I heard a woman complaining about how she always has to stop to show strangers her baby (not present), because everyone always wants to tell her how cute her child is.  I was in stitches. I mean, for reals?  How "ridiculous" of other people to compliment her baby... did she honestly think that this was a crime?  Rude!

Ok, but to break it down for you, her kid wasn't there, so I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt that her child was out-of-this-world adorable... But, I nearly laughed out loud at her righteous indignation, and legitimately thinking that this was something acceptable to complain about.  I mean, come on.  I'm not sure of the sex of her child, but apparently she'd been blessed with the baby version of Brad Pitt or Jennifer Aniston (yeah, that was a purposeful exclusion of Miss-I'm-a-husband-stealer-Jolie), and people couldn't wait to stop her, just to look at her angelic kid, and tell her how cute they were.

Must be tough.  

But here's what it made me think about... Nobody stops me in public when I have Axel with me.  Don't get me wrong, my kid is cute.  In fact, he is freakin' 'dorbs.  He doesn't mind hangin' out with strangers, he coos and chats with anyone who comes near, and he'll make even the most awkward person feel 10 feet tall with one of his million-dollar-Julia-Roberts-style-gummy smiles. It's obvi that my child is not what keeps strangers away.

But, nobody stops me in public when I have Axel with me.  And do you know why?  

Plain and simple folks, when I'm out and about and Axel is with me I give off a huge B vibe.  That's right, it's true.  A new side of me has emerged with motherhood, and lemme tell you, it ain't pretty.  No, we're not talkin' a walking hormonal hot mess.  Not that kind of cray.  We're talkin' straight up, mama bear-ness.

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times, I am not a traditionally maternal lady.  It's just not me.  But since having procured this small human, I have become a force to be reckoned with.  Just in case you were wondering, the definition of that is: "Someone or something that is important and powerful and must not be ignored."   That about sums it up.  The girl who goes to the doctor and accepts whatever they tell her without contradiction, the girl who feels bad even ordering things online because she doesn't want to bug the employees, or the girl who never returns a meal or drink no matter how terrible it is - that girl does not exist when Axel is involved.  That girl turns into a mama bear who will do anything and everything to keep her baby safe.  That girl is tough, strong, and when needed, vicious, to protect her child.  Strangers don't ask to see my baby because something in my demeanor shouts "Don't even think about getting near my precious little child, because I.WILL.END YOU."  

Why this enormous change of heart and personality?  Because, this is my little human. He is mine.  He made me a mom, he trusts me with his life (even though he doesn't know it yet), and he now retains an incredibly large section of my heart.  

I can't describe to you the enormity of changes that occur when you have a child, it would take too many words, most of which would not truly do it justice.  Yes, you change.  Everything morphs.  Not just your post-baby body, with all of it's fun little quirks, much of which requires a heck of a lot of grace with yourself (sure, not everything snaps back to where it once was, the heartburn that they promise you will stop once you give birth but doesn't, the baby fat everyone swears that you will lose eventually, or the crazy amount of hair that you start spontaneously losing).  No, that is not what I'm talking about.  I'm talking about what changes inside.  That mama bear instinct that appears out of nowhere and drives you to do anything and everything you need to do to protect your offspring.  Sure, I heard ladies talk about it, but I never truly understood, and I certainly didn't think I would ever feel.  But now I do.  I would give my life without a second thought to protect Axel - bullets, knives, fires.  Anything. I would throw myself in front of a train to save that little man.  

But why?

Some people argue it's hormones.  Some say it's instinct.  I think it's something God puts in your soul.  This little being, thigh chubs and all, is now a part of you.  A part that if lost, cannot be replaced, and you will do absolutely anything to protect it - just like you would if it was literally a part of you - a hand, a leg, or eyeball, anything...  

And you know what I think is so stinkin' amazing?  It makes you selfless.  Mama bears don't think before going after anyone or anything that separates them from their young.  They just do.  Now, I'm not suggesting that mothers have a free pass for being an absolute B to any stranger who happens along wanting to compliment their child as Ms. Complainer from earlier lived out. I simply mean, I have a new found respect for the absolute beauty of selflessness that occurs within your soul when you produce a child that needs everything from you.  No resentment, no reservations, just love and protection.  And honestly, humans are pretty gosh-darn selfish, so I'm fairly certain that this feeling comes straight from God.  Pretty cool if you ask me :)

So cheers to all of the mama bears out there.  Protect your babies!  But just make sure you're not mauling any innocent bystanders in the process ;)

An Apology...

So.

Today I watched my baby brother be completely reamed out for doing something nice.

Let me start from the beginning.  It was our early Mother's Day celebration for my (amaze-balls!) mom.  And at the grand ol' OCB in Burnsville, when the Alsdurf clan gathered to celebrate our matriarch, the best lady ever, Peggy (I could write an entire blog about her alone!), we watched my bro be completely disrespected by an elderly man.  While we waited for the youngest sib, Mr. Nathan-munchkin-Alsdurf, we saw an older couple making their way to the restaurant door.  The woman was clearly disabled, needing the help of her husband and a walker, and even then, they seemed to both struggle getting around.  We saw Nate arrive, and like the extremely responsible and good-hearted young man he is, he tried (TWICE!) to open the doors for them both.  Not only did the man deny Nate (twice!!!), but once he walked in and joined us, the man proceeded to lecture Nate on how he shouldn't be trying to open the door for others and why.

You see, some people do not realize the impact of their actions.  And there are some people, mostly those who have lived on this earth a long time, that should really know better.  With the sheer number of years they've spent on this ball of water, land and air, they should know the weight of their words, and they should choose them carefully.

But they don't always.  And sometimes, like all of us, they make mistakes.

My initial reaction was that of anger.  How dare this man, regardless of age, be so rude to someone who was just trying to be nice.  I was livid.  Finding someone of the younger generation who would even think to open the door for others is rare, and that man just made my brother feel like a jerk for just trying to be nice and respectful.  I wanted to yell some very choice words right in his face.

But, I didn't.

So, instead, here is my apology...

To the elderly man:  I'm sorry that you have a disabled wife, it must tough for both of you having to deal with that.  I'm guessing that being older you must experience a lot of hard things in your life. I'm sorry that because of your life experiences, you must have felt some need to defend yourself.  I'm sorry that you didn't feel the respect and honor my brother was trying to convey with his offer to hold the door open for you.  I wish the best for you and your wife, a life of peace and joy.

To my brother:  I'm sorry that you were denied the immense joy of helping others.  In a world that rarely encourages being honorable, I'm so sorry that when you tried to be that, you were not only publicly embarrassed, but also denied the opportunity to bless someone.  I'm sorry that man's personal issues didn't allow him to be thankful for your gesture of kindness.  But mostly, I'm sorry if his poor reaction makes you balk at trying to respectfully honor others in the future.

You see, the thing is, that dude had his reasons for acting the way that he did.  But so did my brother.  And the thing that breaks my heart, is that when kindness, true kindness, is doled out and denied, it keeps us from trying to do it again in the future.  Sure, I could rant and rave about how my brother is in the right, and this man was in the wrong.  But it wouldn't do any good.  It won't change what happened, and it won't change what will happen in the future.  But I can apologize for the unfortunate experiences, and pray that it doesn't happen again.

So, again, here is my apology, a blanket apology for those of us that have reacted poorly to the kindness of others:  I'm sorry.  It was wrong.  And it shouldn't happen again.  And to everyone else, please don't let those bad experiences keep you from being kind again in the future.  Your love changes things, don't forget that.

My brother is a rockstar, and handled it all like a champ.  He responded with respect and integrity, and I couldn't be more proud.

Don't let the hardness of heart that others bear keep you from responding in love.  It's hard, but everything that's worth fighting for is...

3

3 months.

That is the amount of time that we've managed to keep a small human alive.  Three whole (long) months.  I don't know about you, but I feel like that is definitely something to celebrate!  I'd throw a party, but I'm too tired :)  Unfortunately, each time I am proud of making it this far, some dang more-experienced parent says something to the effect of "Enjoy this time, once they get older it will be much harder!"  K.  Thanks.  While that is probably true, way to make me SUPER freaked out about the future.  Because, 3 months is a long time, and while we have had bad days, I've finally started to feel like I'm getting the hang of this whole parent deal.  So, thanks for ripping the rug out from under me, you wouldn't want me to get a big-head about the fact that I am finally able (most days) to keep my kid clean, fed and sleeping.  Not sayin' just sayin', maybe sometimes you should let others be blissful in their ignorance... (End parent rant) ;)

So, back to 3 months.

We are celebrating having a three month old baby boy who is absolutely amazing!  It already feels like he is SO grown up.  Which is obviously a ridiculous thought, since he can't even make himself a martini yet without our help (kidding!)  But sers.  It is so weird to think that 90 days ago he wasn't in our lives.  And now, he fills up our home with his little noises, clothes, and not-so-little diapers :)  F'real, the kid knows how to poop and he does it like it ain't no thang.  These are the weird things you brag about as a parent.  Like, in what universe do you get a big proud smile on your face when someone burps into your ear so loud that it's nearly deafening?  The universe of parenthood, dude.  Don't get me started on how hilarious baby-parent-bragging is: how much they can eat, how many times you have to change their diaper (or what it smelled like!), how long they can sleep, and, by far the most intense, how "big" they are (particularly silly considering they are, as their names suggest, "babies", and weigh far less than the turkey I bought for Thanksgiving [yet significantly more expensive!]).  Of course, pre-kid Kelly didn't realize that these were the things that parents get sups excited about - who knew how much fun it was going to be bragging about chubby thighs and bodily functions?  That is certainly the exact opposite of adult-world ;)

So, here's a few little tidbits about Mr. A's first three months on this lil' ball we call earth:

• 3 months, weighing in at a grand total of: 17 lbs and 1 oz... He is a giant among babies :) (insert ridiculous baby-parent-bragging here!)  And apparently he has the height of a true Lindstedt, since he is now too long to fit into most of his 3 to 6 month clothes!
• He started sleeping "through the night" at about 2 months old, which rocked!  For those of you who are not parents and are thinking "So, you must be getting a ton of sleep then!", to you I say, "Of course not, you fool!" :)  In babyland, it's considered sleeping through the night when they sleep for anything longer than 5 hours.  But hey, 5 hours is still pretty darn good :)
• His favorite pastime is smiling, cooing, sticking out his tongue, and making faces at his dad
• His favorite babysitters are Grandma Peggy and GranDan, and GRando and Grandma Rita :)
• He is a pretty happy little man, laid back, but he does best with a set schedule (what can I say, he's definitely our kid!)
• He lost all of the hair on the top of his head, but still has it all around the sides and back.  The hair came back uber-blonde, but he still looks like he's rockin' the Friar Tuck coif :)  So far he's kept his baby blues, but we'll see if that lasts, or if he'll give into the dark side and get my brown eyes.
• His latest milestone is being able to do a half turn-over, so we'll see how long before the real deal happens and brace ourselves for the craziness! 

As usual, you never know what the future will bring, and after bringing Axel home from the hospital (the 2nd time!), we were hoping for no more medical issues.  Unfortunately, Axel was diagnosed with pretty severe Torticollis, and due to that, he has developed Plagiocephaly.  Nothing life-threatening, but still hard.  We have been super busy with getting him to the doctor, physical therapy, buying special products to help with his care, chiro appointments, doing his stretches, and making sure we do everything that we can to help avoid having to get a special helmet for him (which are SUPER expensive and must be worn for about 20 hours a day, for up to 18 months :(  Not fun!).  Basically that means that we need to hold him or have him upright (and off his head) for pretty much every minute he's awake - not giving us a ton of extra time (or hands!), as if you get much of that anyway with a new babe :)  So if you've noticed our absence lately, now you know why. Needless to say, it's been a bit of a challenge, but we are making it through with God's grace!

So, I think that pretty much recaps our first three months with this lil' man.  To summarize: We are so blessed. So tired... but so blessed :)

Jaded

J-j-jaaaaded! Oh Aerosmith, always rockin' it.

When I was younger I always thought that the perfect relationship would be like the fountain of youth - it would renew you and bring new life with each passing day.  I had this unrealistic vision in front of me, something that could never be attained.  But I still believed in it... apparently I wasn't very smart :)

And so, I spent many years allowing myself to be jaded by those that came into my life.  I would continue on in relationships that were genuinely not good for me (and often for them as well).  I would try and try, again and again, and it always seemed to have the same outcome.  Disaster.  (This is the one time when the age-old wisdom of "if at first you don't succeed, try, try again" does not apply!)  Each time I picked up a brand new battle scar, and a tougher heart, one that wouldn't love so easily the next time.  In addition to my lack of smarts, I must also have a slow learning curve :)

You know the only thing worse than becoming jaded?  Making others that way as well... I left big scars on many of the people that I cared about deeply. I had all of the excuses.  It's an unhealthy friendship, it wasn't a good relationship, he needed too much, she was too clingy, it wasn't "God-centered" (that's one that got abused a looooooooooot - sorry about that Big Guy!), it's just not working, etc. etc.  I let all of these excuses lead me, inch by inch, out of relationships that were inconvenient or had just became too hard.

Now that I'm old(er?), I know the real deal.  The ugly truth is that we're all flawed and we WILL hurt each other. We will. Always. Give anyone enough time to spend with one another and it will eventually end up raw and unpretty.  But just because you experience those things doesn't mean it's time to let go.  Being married has shown me so many amazing things, but one of the best ones is that becoming jaded is a choice.  You cannot control another person, their actions, or always protect yourself from being hurt by them.  You.Just.Can't.  What you can do is love, be vulnerable and keep on hoping.

Love never stops hoping.  Let me say it again - love NEVER stops hoping.  Never.  And what is the arch-enemy of jadedness (think Batman vs. Catwoman!)?  Hope.  And not just blind hope or hoping for the sake of hoping.  No, I mean the kind of hope that 1 Corinthians 13 talks about - life-giving, restoring, and renewing hope.  I mean, hope is pretty much a necessity of love, so why did it take me so long to figure that part out?  Like I said, I'm not always so smart.  And my learning curve mimics a bell curve more often than I'd like to admit :)

If I said that I have it all figured out now, I'd be Pinocchio-ing pretty bad.  Sure, being a little jaded can still creep in once in a while, but now I know how to fight it.  And what's more, now I do my very best not to ever be the cause of someone else becoming jaded.  Gettin' old(er?) has it's benefits, one of the best ones thus far is hard-fought/won wisdom.

Leave being jaded to good ol' A-smith, let's keep on loving and hoping!

1 Cor. 13:4-7
4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

The Selfish-Freedom Equation

When I look into my son's eyes I see so much love staring back at me... and you know what I feel?  Selfish.
Well, love too, but also, really, really, crazy-high amounts of selfish.

I have this little creature, wide-eyed, gurgling and smiling, and completely, totally, dependent on me.  And his dad too, but you know what I mean, plus it sounds so much more dramatic when I say me ;)  And every time I look at that little face, I am ashamed at how much I just want what I want.  And I want the world!  But right now, WE are his world.  His world.  That's it.  Mom, dad, puppies, a warm house, clean clothes, and a full tummy. That is his entire world. Cray-to-the-Z.

And what hits me over the head is that sometimes all I want is out.  Not out of being a mom or a wife.  I just want some freedom.  I want to be able to go to the store on a moments notice.  I want to have a glass of wine without 2 hours of preparation.  I want to go out with friends and not drag along a baby, a car seat, a diaper bag, a pacifier, four diapers, three burp rags, two extra outfits, and a partridge and a pear tree...  I want all of these things.  But when I look at that tiny little face I realize how selfish and unnecessary these things are.  Do  I need them?  No.  Do I want them? Yes.  But are they worth it?  Not really.  It's like this:  You always want what you can't have, right?  And while I miss "freedom", I happily entered into all of these commitments in my life. Willingly.  And I am thankful to be a part of each and every single one of them.

But.  There's always a but.

I think that there is something good in wanting that freedom and feeling that selfishness.  Timbo, our campus pastor in Mt Ana, once told Ryan something that has really stuck with the both of us.  He said something to the effect of this - "Marriage, man, when you get married it will show you just how selfish you are. It will expose everything you are, and not always the good stuff.  And then you have kids, and then you REALLY find out how selfish you are..."  And it is so, so, SO true.  When Ryan and I got married, well, let's just say the first 6 months wasn't all flowers and rainbows.  Those people who say "love fixes everything" clearly had not yet experienced the joy of trying to meld two verrrrrrrrry independent individuals into one life.  Love did not fix us.  Love COULD NOT fix us.  Only Jesus could, can, and continues to do so.  Yes, we were selfish, but He used that selfishness, our brokenness, to bring us closer to one another and to Him.

Now, we have Axel.  Our firstborn son.  And he is adorable. Some might even say "dorbs." ;)  But, as kids are prone to being, he is a LOT of work.  And guess what?  With every fleeting "I wish I could..." thought that reaches my tired brain, I am struck by just how silly and selfish those things are.  Would I give it all up just because I loved my pre-baby lifestyle?  Would I give up the incredible blessing of being a parent?  Would I trade infinite freedom for this 14 pound lil' monster?  There.Is.No.Way.  None of that matters, I don't need any of those things.  None of it.  Except a shower. That, my dear friends, is definitely a necessity.  Though Mr. A doesn't always seem to agree with me on that one.  Most of those wishes are just that, wishes.  They are not required, they are not life-changing, and they certainly are not going to negatively impact the trajectory of my life.  No, most of the time they are a momentary (or sometimes hourly) inconvenience.  And a few times, they are bigger.  They are sacrifices.  Huge ones... but we won't get into all of that quite yet, we'll save that topic for another day :)

My point?  I think this was all in God's plan for us.  He uses marriage and kids to bring us closer to Him, to soften us, to realize that we can't do it on our own, that we need Him.  And that we are selfish.  Not because that fact in itself is helpful.  But because that constant reminder helps us to live in an entirely different way than we would have otherwise.  In a way, it frees us.  Talk about a twist on wanting some freedom, eh? :)

Sometimes it's hard to face your own selfishness.  But when there's so much love attached to it... well, it's a whole lot easier to make the changes that you need to.

Freedom for all, friends! :)

Messy

I know as a self-proclaimed freeze-baby living in snow-filled Minnesota, spring should be one of my favorite times of the year.  But it's not.  Not even a little bit. It's kind if like how I hate fall by proxy, because even though it's super pretty, it means "winter is coming", (thanks Game of Thrones...) and we all know about my intensely deep hatred of all things cold.

So why am I hatin' on spring?  Because it's messy.  

Yup, I'm that superficial.  I hate messes, and therefore dislike what is heralded as one of the very best seasons (and some would argue, a nonexistent one in good ol' Minn-e-snow-ta).

But. Spring is MESSY!  With two enormous, hairy and slobbery dogs, springtime is a dreaded season at our house... For the sheer fact that any and all outside excursions of our hairiest children requires the following: a mop, several towels, and, if we're lucky, a broom, and a vacuum if we're not so lucky.  I know, I know, spring means it's almost summer, and that's great. But spring is also dirty, wet, mushy, icky, and soggy.  It just is.

However, as I sit watching the icicles drip (from the snow dam on our roof... did I mention I hate winter?!?), I am thinking that maybe the reason that my heart hardens at the thought of spring is not because of the mess, but because of how much work new life can be.

In case you can't tell from my many blog entries, my facebook feed with a-nearly-out-of control-amount-of baby pictures posted, or my extremely unkempt appearance lately - we just had a child. (SHOT)  Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig surprise :)  And in case you also didn't know, having a baby completely changes your life in pretty much every single way.  And in case you ALSO didn't know, change is messy.  And hard.

But change, much like spring, also means new life.  And new life, even if it is messy, and a lot of work, is beautiful.  

My new life is veeeeeeeeeeeeeery messy.  Just come see my house without letting me know ahead of time.  Jaws.Will.Drop.  Especially since my human baby and my hairy babies have secretly conversed, planning evil-y, being extra needy and high-maintenance.  At.The.Exact.Same.Time.  Oh my goodness, it's like they know.  They know.  I swear they know :)

My new life is also beautiful.  Not traditionally of course.  It's not clean and pretty, it's not like the cover of Parent magazine, it's more like... well... dirty, wet, mushy, icky, and soggy.  Ok, maybe the lack of sleep is affecting my adjectives :)   It's not really THAT dirty (or is it?!).   It is gorgeous though - and I am so stinkin' thankful for it.  Even when it's 3 AM and I'm holding a crying baby (again), even when there are piles of laundry 2 feet high, even when I just want to sit down and eat one meal uninterrupted, even when everyone wants to help but it takes more energy to line up someone to help than it is to just do it myself.  Even then.  It is beautiful.  Maybe it's beautiful especially then - because it requires more than I can give and because of that, it requires me to go daily to Jesus and ask for help.  And if that isn't beautiful I don't know what is.

So.  This is an ode to spring, to change and to new life.  Bring on the mess!

more than a village...Part Deux

"Holy crap, I'm a parent!"  

That's pretty much the first thought (minus a few other adjectives, and, let's be real here, occasionally, an expletive or two...) every time I wake up (which is approximately every 2.5 hrs... if I'm lucky!) nowadays.  And after that thought I am immediately filled with terror.

Why?

Because I am now responsible for keeping another living, breathing, little human alive. All. Of. The. Time.  If that isn't enough to scare the pants right off of you, well, then, you are a braver soul than I!

And, what I am quickly learning is that, while it takes more than a village to help support a marriage, raising (or should I say surviving?) a baby takes an entire army!  If I was ever under the delusion that we could do this by ourselves (which, I don't think we were, but you catch my drift), that idea was squashed within 1 hour of meeting Axel.  If you've read "more than a village" you already know how passionate I am about supporting marriage, and now I am realizing that the whole "it takes a village to raise a child" statement is grossly understated.  Grossly.  What a weird word.  But true.  I wasn't kidding about the army part!

An army?  Really?  You need that many people just to take care of a 9 lb human?  Yup, and here's why:

1) Raising a child requires lots and lots (and lots and lots and LOTS, etc.) of support, from all types of people - friends, family, and in some cases, even a nice stranger! Sheer need defines it, and I don't think the term "village" covers it.  You NEED the mass of an army, be it in actual bodies, or just that level of support (or both if you're lucky!).

2) You've still got to maintain and grow your marriage at the same time - life doesn't take a break just because you had a baby... imagine that!  You are now doing one of the most important things you've ever done in your entire life AND you have to manage (i.e. survive) everything else that you've always had to previously, on top of that.  Talk about an insta-meltdown :)  The truth about this one is that it's a bit of a lie - you CANNOT do everything that you used to do.  I don't mean to poo on your parade, but the American dream be darned, you will have to give up something.  It's just not possible to keep everything the same, nor should it be, you just added a new human to this earth!  But the good part is that you get to choose how you change your life to make room for this very important addition.  You're not a victim of your baby, you're an adult who gets to figure out what works for you (and them!).  But, you also need even more support for your marriage, because if you thought it was hard before, it's gonna get harder babycakes! But it is so, so, soooooooooo good at the same time. I promise.

3) You will break.  At some point, you will have a moment when you realize that you cannot do this.  It might be today, it might be tomorrow (or it might be both), but you will have that moment (or many of them ;)).  And when you do, you need an army-level of support - to come alongside you, to help, to encourage, and in some cases, just give you a much needed break.  Because the thing is, it's going to be okay.  In fact, it's going to be waaaay better than okay, it's gonna be AWESOME!  But in that moment you don't feel like it and you need to be reminded.

These are just three things I've learned so far in my 5 weeks as a (gasp!) "parent".  I've got a LOT more to learn, eh?  But I will say this, it's only been 5 weeks and I already KNOW that it takes an army, that I cannot do it alone (as Ryan reminds me daily), so maybe I'm not quite as dumb as I look ;)

So, if you are a parent, don't forget that you need an army.  And if you're not a parent, don't forget that the parents around you NEED you in their army (this goes for parents too, obvi).

Don't forget - none of us can do it alone, kids or no kids - we need each other!