Hard - The Optical Illusion

Two of my very dear friends have posted some amazing blog entries over the past few days, and, as they usually do, they have inspired me.

http://thekleinjungs.com/thailand/dirty-love/

http://www.gallerycovenant.org/writings/2014/2/20/sparrows.html

These women speak well, and not just for the sake of pretty writing.  They don't just slap some words on a page and call it good - no, they share, they are vulnerable, and they do it not for their glory, but for His.  And because they did, they are inspiring me to do the same.  Maybe they will even inspire you too... 

So, in the same vein of being open and vulnerable, I'm just going to come out and say it - right now things are hard.   

You might be surprised, as a good friend was recently when I shared how I was feeling.  Sure, most people seem like they have it all together, but here I stand, shouting on a mountaintop of exhaustion (and in sweats that I've been wearing for 1.75 days), that right now it's just hard.   

Here's what I want you to hear - just because we all post happy pictures, talk about the highlights of our lives, and still have a smile on our faces does not mean that everything is perfect.  Right?  Right.  

Here's why you need to remember this - what you see of someone's life may be an optical illusion.  

It does not mean that we are deceptive and trying to make our lives out to be more appealing than they are, and it doesn't mean that we want others to think that we are perfect - it just means that no one knows what's really going on in someone else's heart and mind unless they actually share it.  Am I going to post pictures of the dark circles under my eyes and lament over my sleepless nights all over Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter (who am I kidding, I don't even HAVE Tumblr and my Twitter account has gathered more dust than my running shoes over the past 10 months! ;))?  No, my personal opinion is that there are enough negative things out there, I don't need to add to them. But just because you don't see those things doesn't mean my life is perfect.  Far from it :)

I'm not gonna go on and on about how you want others to perceive you, or how you present yourself (I have other blog entries about that - see "this isn't everything you are" and "Eye of the Beholder"), on social media, in person or otherwise. That's not really my point, and honestly, that's a very personal decision, completely up to you how you want to do that.  Instead, I'm getting at how we "see" others.  Do we look at them and assume that we know how their lives are?  Do we think that we can comprehend what it's like in someone else's shoes?  I think we (unintentionally, most of the time) do.  I think it takes reading someone's vulnerable blog (see above), hearing them share their hearts, and asking real questions about their lives to get any sort of true understanding about how their life is right now.  And you know what's scary about that?  How often do you do/see those things on a regular basis?  I'll be honest, for me, it's not nearly often enough.  I tend to play by the rules of the "easy out", which goes something like this - if you really need me or have something you'd like to share, you'll let me know.  

Right?  Wrong.  Like I said, it's an easy out, one that I'm not proud of.

Okay, in light of that, let this be an anthem.  Your anthem, my anthem, all of us.  Don't be fooled by the optical illusion.  Don't expect vulnerability, but encourage it in others and display it yourself.  Don't expect others to come to you, but go to them to find out what's really going on.  Don't take the easy out, be intentional.   

So here I am, saying right now it's hard. No optical illusions allowed here :-)  Don't forget your anthem! 

Invisible Dads

I've only been a mom for a little over two weeks, but I've already noticed that dads really have a rough time in a lot of ways.  From getting very little time off to take care of a new baby and recovering mother, to the medical community pretty much ignoring their presence - dads, especially new dads, really get the raw end of the deal.

And it kinda makes me mad.

I know what you're thinking. At least I think I do... "What?! The moms have it waaaaaaaaay harder, crazy lady!"  Of course being a mom is hard, but we already know that.  There are literally entire sections of the library that cover that topic.  Therefore, there's no reason for me to go into it further (and much less eloquently than the professionals).  Right? Right. :) Ok, back to the topic at hand...

Last week was Axel's first doctor's appointment.  Ryan rushed home from work so that he could take us to it (who knew you weren't supposed to drive right after giving birth?!?) and when they got us into the room they asked us to get Axel undressed.  Ry quickly took charge, undressing him expertly, handling Axel's diaper blowout AND peeing all over himself like an old pro, which the nurse was clearly surprised by.

The thing is, she shouldn't be surprised, because there are a lot of really great dads out there (and I happen to be lucky enough to be married to a pretty spectacular one :)).  Throughout our (first and second) hospital stay, I watched as my husband patiently handled the many nurses and medical professionals who only spoke to me, with some not even acknowledging his presence. Not to mention, he did all of this while simultaneously fielding all of the phone calls/texts from fam and friends, taking care of our house and dogs, AND pretty much everything else in our lives (can we say superman?!? :))  I couldn't figure out why he was being treated this way... I mean, I understand that sometimes there isn't a dad around, but when there is, shouldn't they be considered as an equal partner?

It got me thinking, and where I landed wasn't pretty.  But before I say it, keep in mind that I know I've only been a mom a short while, so I certainly don't claim to know everything...  (yet ;) ) but, I've also experienced having an awesome dad (Dan The Man), so I feel like I've got a good perspective from the other side of things as well.

Here goes!

We all know about absentee fathers, dads who walk out, or those who just don't seem very invested in the lives of their children.  There is no excuse for that, absolutely none.  But, aside from those situations, have we as a culture made dads invisible?  Expendable? There are families without the traditional male role (father), and obviously I'm not talking about those, that's a different situation entirely. I am talking about those families where there is, or was, a dad, and we've cut him out of the picture, or at least out of any important role.

We've either expected so little, or discouraged them so much, is it a wonder at all when some men live up to such poor expectations?  Again, I am not excusing a not-so-great father by any means, I'm just saying that it seems like we do a pretty crappy job of encouraging men to be good fathers.  And yes, I do mean encourage.  Genuinely.  And just to clarify, encouraging is not the cranky complaining of a spouse/partner who is short-tempered and yelling at the father to do more.  Why do we encourage?  Because, just like motherhood, not every guy is good at fatherhood naturally, and may need some help and positive reinforcement along the way.  That said, this does not remove any level of responsibility for a man to be a good father - it is ultimately up to him to do that, to put in the time and energy, but we can certainly do our best to help them!

To say our society is to be blamed would be useless, but I will say that it is certainly makes things worse.  Just look at how we treat fathers differently than mothers on the most basic of levels - most jobs won't give paternity leave, which keeps most men who would like to be more supportive from doing so, as well as taking away opportunities to bond with their new child.  They rarely get the ability to take time off work to be more involved in their kid's lives, and when was the last time you saw a dad taking a day off when the kids are home from school (you don't, because employers expect that the mom will do this, not dad)?  We have lack-luster dads out there, it's true, but we also have a lot of dads who WANT to be more involved, but we (our culture) make it very hard for them.  Some dads have exited the picture, but some dads have been exed-out of the picture without much say.  

It shouldn't need to be said, but I'll say it anyway - fathers should not be expendable. They should not be invisible.  They should be encouraged and supported to be the best dads that they can be.  Absolutely.  Entirely. 100% of the time.  'Nough said.

I could go on, but I'll end here, because I don't want it to turn into ranting... (if it hasn't already :)) but I'll leave you with the following thought:

We can't expect fathers to be mothers, just like we wouldn't expect mothers to be fathers, BUT, in a society where a lot of dads don't even stick around, shouldn't we be doing our absolute best to encourage the ones that do?

(And props to my awesome hubby, who is already an amazing father!)

Axel - Our Story

Fair warning, as the title suggests, this is a baby-centric post... so, if you're not so interested in the recent addition to our family, the following will bore you to tears, and I suggest that you save yourself the pain and just skip it :)

Ok, you've been told... here goes!

Axel's journey into this world started when my water broke at 11:53PM on Sunday, January 26th. Except, I didn't know if my water really had broken... I woke up out of a dead sleep (that I'd been in for less than an hour) and awkwardly tried to wake Ryn up.  Keep in mind, we weren't expecting our little bundle of joy for at least another two weeks, so we hadn't really discussed how this whole "we're having a baby" conversation should go.  And because of that, it went (awkwardly) like this:

Me: Uh, Ryan?
Ryan: (snnooooooooooooore)
Me: Ryan, I think my water just broke...
Ryan: (awake now!) What?!
Me: I think my water just broke.
Ryan: You think?
Me: Well, I don't know, I've never had this happen before...
Ryan:  Isn't there some way to check?

Not exactly how you see it happen in the movies...  :)

So while I tried to determine if my water had actually broken, or if I had peed myself (which hasn't happened to me, but I've heard is pretty common with preggos), Ryan prayed that it wasn't the beginning of birth... Not because we didn't want to see our future baby, but because we'd both agreed that there was only one day that we didn't want our son born on, and that was Ryan's 30th birthday - which would start 7 minutes after my water broke.  And indeed it had!

So off to the hospital we went - slowly of course :)  Not only was Axel making his way into the world 2 weeks early, but he was doing it very fast as well - even though labor didn't actively start until about 2:30am, and after a few crazy hours of pushing (2 hours and 20 min to be exact), our baby boy was born at 12:40pm on January 27th, 2014.  Stealing his father's birthday glory now and forevermore :)  I'm not gonna get into the gory details of birth (in the blog anyway, if you want 'em lemme know, I'm happy to share in person :)), but I will say this - it is hardcore. F'reals. Luckily, I had an amazing husband who was absolute perfection throughout the whole process!

Also, for any of you out there who haven't had a baby yet and are working on your birth plan, I have one word for you: flexibility.  You never know what's going to happen during the process and if you hold too tightly to what you wanted or expected to happen, you might be unnecessarily disappointed.  And at the end of the day, you will hold a happy, healthy baby in your arms and that is all that matters!

Anyway, back to the dets.

Like I said, Axel was born at 12:40pm, weighing in at a hefty 8 lbs and 15 oz, just shy of 9 lbs - thank GOD he was early! I.Would.Have.Died.  He is 20.5 inches long and just the cutest lil' squishball of a baby you've ever seen (mother's opinion of course - but I feel justified in this, because usually I feel like most babies look pretty similar, and, well, newborns just aren't my thang)!

We decided on the name Axel Daniel Randall Lindstedt.  Axel is the name of two of Ryan's great-great-grandfathers, and it means "Father of Peace", which we felt was fitting because 1) he was born on his father's birthday and 2) after years of trying to decide when we should have kids, we finally felt peace, and low and behold, this lil' wonder came along!  Daniel is my father's name, and I don't know a better man to have my son named after!  Randall is Ry's dad's name, and a pretty awesome dude himself  :)  It's a bit of a mouthful, but you know us, go big or go home!

Axel's journey home took a bit longer than anticipated. Because he was such a big baby (did I mention, ALMOST 9 lbs?!?!? Ahhhh!), he had pretty significant cranial bruising and swelling, which made him highly at risk for jaundice.  We were released to go home on Wednesday after his birth, but had a home visit from the nurse first thing the next day and based on his extremely high numbers, he had to be readmitted to the hospital immediately for treatment for jaundice.

I'll tell you what - I have experienced some scary things in my life, but rushing him back to the hospital is a moment that I hope never to relive again.  And boy, do those post-baby hormones kick in fast!  I'm not a crier, but the tears (and snot) flowed freely that day.  Luckily, the hospital let me board there so I could still be with him when he wasn't getting treatment, which was so amazing!  I don't know if I could have left him there to be honest.  I would have been that creeper who just hung out at the hospital for 3 days :)

He took a little longer to respond to treatment then they were hoping, but finally, by Saturday night (Feb 1st), we were able to take him home for good!  And boy did it feel awesome!  Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd immediately overwhelming :)  Holy being-parents Batman!

And here we are, one week later, and getting into the swing of things with this whole parenting deal.  There's not a whole lot of sleep happening around our house, or really much of anything other than changing diapers and feeding, but I'm not gonna lie, even a hardcore non-baby-person like myself, can definitely say that it's completely different when it's your baby.  We are so blessed to have this lil' miracle, and are praying every day that we can be the parents that he needs, living out God's plan for us and for him.

So there ya go folks! You've officially "met" the newest member of our fam - Axel!

The Waiting Game

Well, it's definitely winter in grand ol' Minnesota.  And winter here means a few things:

1) Snot freezing, bone-chilling, cold, cold, COLD
2) A LOT of (extremely redundant) Facebook statuses complaining about #1
3) Waiting... waiting for the winter to end, waiting for the windchill to get above freezing, and most importantly, waiting for the glorious season that we call spring

Sure, there are a few other things that winters here include (like crazies who actually like the cold!), but I'm stickin' with the (short but sweet) list above cuz we all know it's pretty gosh-darn accurate.

So, like I said, winter here involves a lot of waiting.  And besides waiting for the cold to go away, I know a lot of peps that are waiting for other things right now.  Waiting to hear back on their offer on a house, waiting to hear from loved ones, waiting to get pregnant, waiting to propose, waiting to move back home, waiting to... (insert pretty much anything here).  And if you're me, you're waiting around to see when your firstborn son is going to start his entrance into this world.

The waiting game.  Except, waiting rarely feels like a game - more like teeth-pulling, fingernails on a chalkboard kinda torture, right?  Right.

And even though it's sups lame, we spend most of our lives waiting for something.  From something as simple as waiting in line for a drive-thru, to something as life-altering as the results of a serious medical test - we never have everything we want or need when we want or need it.  So, let me say it again.  We are always waiting for something.

Personally, I hate waiting, and what's more, I'm not good at it.  I'm impatient and not exactly quiet about that fact :)  It isn't really a character trait that I'm proud of (nor should I be), but it's still the truth.  Having had a pretty unpleasant pregnancy, I am more than ready for it to be over with.  But, if I utter a sentiment even close to that feeling, I have mothers everywhere, coming out of the woodwork, immediately jumping on me, and practically shouting some rendition of the following:  "You know, you really should be enjoying this time! This is when they are easiest to take care of - you have no idea how much harder it's going to be once they're born!"  And here's the thing - I know that.  I think any logical person knows that a baby outside of the womb is a thousand times harder to take care of than one inside... you would literally have to be an idiot to believe differently.  But... I don't care.  It's been a long, brutal 10 months, and I am really done with waiting.  I am ready to be a mom, to meet my son, to see Ryan hold him for the very first time, and to share him with this great big world.  I don't think it will be easy, I don't think that I am prepared (who can be?!), and I don't think that we have any idea what we are getting ourselves into.   But, that doesn't make me want to wait any longer :)

So. I'd like to continue being impatient, thank you very much!  But... since I cannot control when this lil' munchkin is going to make his way into this world, any more than many of my family and friends can change what's happening in their season of waiting - I am choosing to remain in God's grace as I move toward the future.  I think that this is one of the most challenging things in the world to do.  I've talked many times before about things that are in our control and things that are out of our control - and that is a topic in itself.  But choosing to gracefully wait on God is no small feat.  The key here is grace.  Which I usually have very little of.  We can't get around the waiting part - but it's HOW we wait that matters.

We choose how we handle our seasons of waiting, and that constant choice, day in and day out, is a character builder just on it's own!  I can choose to be impatient, annoyed, complaining about how uncomfortable I am, moping around in my misery, until my baby magically appears (cuz that's what happens, right?  Wait, what's labor again? :)).  Or, I can choose to use this time to pray protection over our baby, our family, and the medical team that we'll be working with, to get our home and hearts ready (if you haven't checked out Katie K's blog about preparing for the birth of their son, you absolutely should, it's a must-read!) to welcome this bundle of joy into our lives, and to invest in our friends and family through quality time (that we know will become a precious commodity sooner rather than later).  I have a choice, "but, choose wisely...", because it's not always so easy.  Thank you Indiana Jones :)

Good luck with the waiting game my friends!

Out of Control

There are some pretty addictive things in this world, but none is more enslaving than control.

The thing about control is that if we feel like we have it we seem to do okay... but when we feel like we don't have control, we act bat-poop-cray-cray...  The funny part is, really, do we ever actually "have" control?  I mean, do we control what we have for breakfast and how much time we spend dinking around the house?  Sure.  But, over big life circumstances?  Usually not.

And yet, even though we know that... control is like a drug that we can't get enough of.  Sometimes we even fool ourselves into thinking that we have control, right?  I've caught myself numerous times exercising "control" over things in my life, that in reality, are just as likely to have not happened as they were to have happened.  More like luck, if you believe in such a thing.

Driving home today I got behind a really slow driver.  Like, monumentally slow.  The kind of driver that makes you wish that driver's licenses could be revoked by normal citizens.  On a two lane road, there was nothing I could do but sit back, lay off the gas, and let this super slow Corolla make it's way to wherever their super slow selves needed to be (but apparently not very quickly).  A mile later, there had just (as in JUST) been an accident - the drivers were still exchanging their information.  It didn't look like anyone was injured badly, but it was a pretty big car/truck accident.

Mr. Slow Corolla (who shall now be known as MSC) took his sweet time making his way around this obstacle as well, but I was too engrossed to notice.  All I could think of was how, if I hadn't been stuck behind the Guinness Book of World Records Winner for Putziest Driver Ever, that smashed up car might have been mine... or worse, had I not been going at such an astronomically slow speed, I may have come around the corner and actually hit the driver of the car trying to get out.  Now of course, in those types of situations, our minds always tend to go to the worst possible scenario, and maybe there was no "bigger plan" for my being behind MSC, but it still makes you think, right?

I think I am in control, but really, I'm not.  And guess what?  Neither are you :)

And yet, we toil, day in and day out to get control, as if it is something to be attained.  When the big things in life seem like they are in constant flux, we grasp at anything we can to create some barrier, some fortress against the change.  Something, anything, to hold on to...  our finances, our weight, our work schedules, our pets... as if any of these things can give us what we're really looking for - which is peace.

It's just a little past Christmas time, and this year my family spent some time going around the circle and reminiscing.  We each talked about one of our favorite memories of a past Christmas.  One of mine was junior year of high school when my group of close friends did a Secret Santa exchange.  To be honest, I'm getting old, and I really don't even remember who's name I had, or who had me.  But, I do remember a lot of crazy running around, finding out locker combinations, leaving secret notes under desks and sneaking out late on Christmas eve to go leave presents on people's door steps.  It was an absolutely perfect Christmas.

I know you're thinking "Aww, isn't that sweet, but what the heck does this have to do with control?"

Right.  On to the point.  After reminiscing I started to think about how, even though I love my past Christmas memories, they rarely have much to do with the actual reason for the season - Christ.  Christ came to save us... that little baby in a manger, came to save us from certain death.  But he didn't come for just that.  Because you can be saved from death and still be miserable, right?  Absolutely.  He also came to bring us peace... And now you're thinking, "Oh yeah, the Prince of Peace, that whole thing, I get it now!"  :)

The point is, striving after control will not save you.

Please hear me on this, you will not feel more in control, no matter what you seem to have control over.  This drug really won't help you.  What you need is peace, and that's not something that you can get by yourself (I know, I've tried!).  So take a minute to just breathe, and let it sink in.  If peace, and not control, is what you need, then I think you know where to get it...

Merry Christmas friends, and may you have a very peace-filled year!

"Those" Women

I always thought that I wouldn't be one of "those" women.

You know who I'm talking about - the women who complain through their ENTIRE pregnancy, lamenting left and right, until you pretty much wanna shout loudly (into their puffy and unhappy faces) "Then why did you even GET pregnant?!?!"   But you don't.  Because that would be rude.  And we're Minnesotans.  So we're nice.  We only think mean thoughts, we never actually say them ;)

I always swore I wouldn't be one of those complaining, cranky women.  Until 33 weeks.  Now I understand.
I'm not saying pregnancy gives you a free pass to complain about anything and everything, but I do get how "over it" you can start to feel at this stage of the "miracle of creating life".

I've actually been very blessed considering some of the pretty terrible things that can happen during pregnancy health-wise.  I've had nausea for all of these blessed 34 weeks (minus a few weeks during the 2nd tri), but it's manageable now (I only want to vomit occasionally throughout the day, instead of constantly ;)).  On the other hand, I have no stretch marks, no varicose veins, no "kankles", no swelling whatsoever, staying at a nice low preggo weight, and eating relatively healthy.  I've been super blessed that my preggo body is pretty much the same minus the belly (and bigger boobs!), and most of my pre-preggo clothes still fit, even my pants as long as I wear them low! There have been lots of other not-fun pregnancy issues as well, but overall, I truly have to count myself lucky.

So, why am I feeling this intense urge to complain?

Because, no matter how lucky and blessed you are during pregnancy - 99% of women hit a point where you are absolutely and terribly uncomfortable, no matter what you do.  You (simultaneously) have to pee, eat some tums, re-adjust your legs (and hope that you don't actually pee your pants WHILE doing this), and try to tell yourself not to cry when your husband pours out the last of your ONLY caffeine-free drink... because you know it's just your hormones. And it's totally not logical to cry over a drink.  Right.  But you still cry anyway :)

And the belly.  It's everywhere!  When you try to turn over in the night - the belly! When you knock over the glass on the counter for the 4th time today - the belly!  When you can't get behind the wheel without adjusting everything in the whole gosh-darn front seat - the belly!  And especially when you are really looking forward to putting on your one and only ugly Christmas sweater, only to find out that when put on, the theme song that you should be singing is "Fat guy in a little coat" (thanks Tommyboy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGWbt3DSje0 ), and you know immediately that you have NO shot at actually keeping it on your poor preggo body - THE BELLY!

Alright, obviously I am not done with this whole pregnancy thing, so I can't really talk about how "once you hold that baby in your arms it's totally worth it", but I can say this much - making a baby ain't pretty, it's nothing like what you see on the cover of People magazine, and it's about as unglamourous as you can get.  BUT, I do think that it's great preparation for becoming an actual parent.  It's no  longer about you.  You are literally giving up your own body to host this lil' guy or gal, and that's a pretty gosh-darn big sacrifice.

So while I can genuinely say that I am officially "done" with this whole pregnancy shindig, I still feel extremely blessed to have this guy hanging out with me, and am committed to keeping a positive attitude until he decides to join this great big world of ours (hopefully no more than 6 weeks away).  It also doesn't hurt that I have an extremely supportive and understanding hubby ;)

But, despite my best efforts, every once in a while, you will still prolly hear me complain... because let's be honest, growin' this kid is hard work! :)  6 weeks to go baby!

Vindicated. I am selfish. I am wrong...

I am right, I swear I'm right. I swear I knew it all along...

Don't you just love the feeling of vindication?  That moment when you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were right.  Regardless of what anyone else thought or did, none of it matters, you were right in the end.  Such sweet satisfaction :)

And then there are those moments when everything comes crashing down, and vindication is the last thing on your mind. Quite the opposite - instead you're realizing that you screwed up... that the choice you made was absolutely, and totally, wrong.

I've had both of these moments in my life.  I think we're all bound to, right?  Right.  But why?  Why are we bound to have these types of moments?  Is it because our lives are chock full of decision making?  Not necessarily, because not every choice is right or wrong, sometimes it's just a simple decision.  What to eat for breakfast - cheesy eggs and bacon or Lucky Charms?  Lemme tell you, either one of these is a winner, no wrong decision here!  I propose that the reason that we have so many moments of vindication or utter despair is that, as humans, we have to believe that there is a "right" answer to everything that we do, because if there isn't, then what justifies our choice?  Hmm, justification and vindication go hand in hand? Shocking :)

I've found that this is particularly true of things that are close to our hearts.  Cuz honestly, I rarely get fired up about which detergent is the holy grail and which one is totally evil.  Not sayin', just sayin'.  But if you're in the territory of things that I hold dear, things that I value, or decisions from my past, you can bet yer sweet patootie that I might start getting a lil' hot under the collar.

And why?  What's the point?  What makes some decisions seem like they ARE THE BIGGEST DEAL IN THE WHOLE WORLD?  Because the people who make one choice NEED to believe that their choice was right, and the people who choose something else NEED to believe that their choice was right... because if it wasn't the right choice, then why are they doing what they're doing?

We need to believe that the choice we made was right.  Even if it wasn't... Then, we find out the hard way - insert feelings of either total vindication or total wrongness (here).  Whew, that sounds exhausting.

And honestly, when I stop and think about it, why does it really matter?  I think it just comes down to pride. I believe so strongly that I am right about something because I am confident that I could not make a mistake. All of this is based on my pride - whether my decision turns out to be right or wrong will then lead me to either feel proud of my "right" decision, or ashamed of my "wrong" decision.  Woof, what a mess!

So, I guess vindication is overrated, eh?  And it comes with a heavy price... encouraging pride.  So, I guess I don't love the feeling of vindication - the shine of which caught my eye, captivated me, but it's time to let it go... thanks Dashboard :)

On to living a life without constantly needing to be right!