Nov 12, 2010

What Depression Taught Me I'm NOT: Part 2


Part 2

It’s so crazy that the things you struggle most to admit are way more obvious to people than you thought. The things you think might overpower you in the dark are much less scary in the light. The things you deal with, thinking no one else feels that way or could ever understand are much more common than you ever knew.

After I wrote initially about having post-partum depression, this amazing thing happened.  I honestly thought my mom and Hope were the only ones who read my blog.  (Hope somehow reads every blog ever written.  I don’t know how she does it.  I think she somehow has more hours in a day than the rest of us.)  But after pouring out my heart, girls started pouring theirs out to me.  I got to go to talk to girls who feel just like I did.  Some weren’t related to pregnancy or kids, but all were women struggling with that same dark cloud of lethargy and sadness. I am so grateful for those conversations.

Then, about a month ago, I had that moment.  I woke up one day and thought, “I’m good.  I feel more like myself.” This obviously meant I didn’t need medication anymore and I considered flushing the pills. But then I remembered. A friend who walked this crazy road before me said this day would come when I thought I was fine.  And just as she predicted, the realization came shortly thereafter that while I may be fine, I’m not great.  I never stopped taking the medicine, but a new wave of this crazy condition reared its ugly head. 

I struggle with the overwhelming urge to walk away.  It started out funny – I just want to eat my food while it’s still warm; I just want to put on an outfit and know it won’t be covered in M&M slobber by the end of the day.  But then the funny feelings turned funky.  I don’t want to be selfless and have to feed someone else before I can eat.  I don’t want to be tethered to someone and have a passenger in the car at all times.  I don’t want my daily reading to be Green Eggs and Ham.  So I thought, “what if I quit?”  I don’t want to hurt anyone (myself included).  I just want to press pause and walk away.  I want to do what I want to do, what fulfills me, what gives me energy.  (Me, Me, Me)  I then struggled with the feelings that always come next – I’m a bad mom, I’m so selfish, I’m a bad person, I’m crazy.

But I'm not crazy. I'm not the only one who's ridden this ride and lived to tell about it. Depression taught me that I'm not alone. And neither are you.  This is part of it.  It’s part of God making me who He wants me to be.  It’s part of me going through instead of around.  I still take that white pill every day, even on the days (like today) when I am bursting with energy and think I don’t need it.  I do that because it’s the tangible action God gave me to do.  Only He can change the inside, but we are all still responsible to put in work.


Depression taught me that I’m not alone, but to know that, I have to be honest. Maybe you haven’t been prescribed a pill.  Maybe you need to go see the doctor for the first time.  Maybe you need to go to a counselor and actually tell the truth rather than faking it for one more person.  Maybe you need to get over your pride and share your story with the girl sitting next to you so she can know she’s not crazy. So she can know she's not alone.

Nov 3, 2010

The Power of a Good Dad

Our dear friend, Chris, lost his dad this week.  Mr. McGregor fought leukemia for 8 years and although this week the life in his physical body ended, his life in God's presence has only begun.  While I'm sad for my friends, I can't stop smiling.  I don't know if I've ever had that reaction when I heard someone died.  But you didn't know this man.  He was one of those people that never had to say anything and you felt his presence in a room.  He was the man that didn't talk loudly or often, but when he opened his mouth to speak, you grabbed a pen so you could take notes.  He is securely where he always wanted to be - right next to His Father.  Chris wrote this about his dad...


He was tight with money but was careless and extravangant when it came to my mom.
He was big, strong and tough but tender to babies and those who were lonely or needed help.
He was quiet and content in the shadows but loud and laser-pointed when one of us was out of line.
He was a dedicated and hard worker but never lost the opportunity to cheer his 4 boys at the rink, the race or the pool.
He was busy and maxed out but not too busy to teach Sunday school or assume leadership at church.
His own family was wheels-off and dysfunctional but our family is strong, stable and unified.
I love you, Dad! See you soon...



Chris is an amazing man because he had an amazing dad.  As I read his words, I found myself thinking about Brynna's dad.  David is a strong leader, successful businessman and wonderful husband.  But I've never seen him flourish in a role like being a father.  He takes that job more seriously than any other and wears his title of "Daddy" with pride.  Brynna is 19 months old, but she could write an epithet about her dad similar to Chris's.  And similar to Chris, I hope BG has many years ahead of watching, learning from and looking up to her dad.  I know she'll be an amazing woman because she has an amazing dad.

Nov 2, 2010

If it wasn't for Texas...

There's a country song that lists all the things Texas is famous for - the Alamo, Austin City Limits, the yellow rose and lonesome dove.  The song ends with these words...

It made me the man I am:
Thank God for my old stompin' ground.
I wouldn't be standin' right here, right now,
If it wasn't for Texas.


I moved to Texas in 2003 after getting married in college and living for 3 months in a Notre Dame dorm room.    It wasn't the best time of my life.  Actually, it was one of the worst.  I hated Texas, Dallas and everything with a star on it.  Dallas moved faster than I wanted, spent more money than I had and left me feeling homesick like I'd never been before.  But that was only the beginning.  About 6 months after moving here, my life came to one of those forks in the road.  I found myself at a decision point.  I could go one direction and face pain like I'd never known, chase down hurts I had worked years to hide, let God shine light where it was dark.  Or I could go the other way.  Although I had honed the skill for years, I found myself unable to appear perfectly put together.  Suddenly I was staring back at myself through the eyes of my husband and what I saw wasn't pretty.


The farther from that time I get, the more I wonder if I chose the road less traveled or if God just picked me up and put me there.  I chose; I know God never forces us.  But it was one of those steps of faith that you take not because you are of sound mind to make a good choice but because you can't physically take another step in the other direction.  David and I spent more than a year in therapy.  He held my hand, we cried together and as healing started replacing hurt, it got more enjoyable to shine light in that darkness.  Eventually, the sessions got farther apart and like a rainy day when the sun comes out, things started warming up.  Now and then, one of us still visits Dr. Jim for a tweak, but we have come to the other side.  And what we have on this side wouldn't have been possible if I had never left Oklahoma.  The growth couldn't have happened if I'd stayed forever in my comfort zone.  Had I been unwilling to go through the hurt, God couldn't have used me to touch lives by sharing my story and holding someone's hand at their fork in the road.


There was a time that I resented living in Dallas.  I tried all I could to resist, lest I embrace this place that wasn't my "mine.".  But now,  just as I take pride in the fact that I am a Texan, God is calling me away again.  They put the For Sale sign in the yard today.  David, Brynna, Miles and I are moving to Washington DC.  God has blessed our obedience with amazing abundance.  David has been offered a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity, and we are heading East to follow as God clears the path.  When the offer was first discussed, David and I had a long conversation about what it would mean to move, uproot Brynna, leave the place we've become a family, etc.  But above all the fears and questions, we both came back to one thought again and again - 

I would rather stand before my Father even if I try and fail, knowing I went obediently where He sent me than hear Him say that He had so much more for me if only I'd been willing to follow.


I didn't have that perspective 8 years ago.  and I didn't know God like I know Him now.  I couldn't trust Him with everything because I wasn't willing to give it all to Him.  Today, as I sit here with butterflies in my stomach, reviewing MLS listings, the nerves don't have control.  God does.  And in large part, that's because...

It made me the (wo)man I am:
Thank God for my old stompin' ground.
I wouldn't be standin' right here, right now,
If it wasn't for Texas.

Oct 19, 2010

Terms of Parenthood

I went to Panera to write this morning and had to login to access the internet.  As usual, I had to agree to the terms of use before I could browse.  I needed to check my online bank account but before I could sign in, I was required to agree to seeing the update in the terms of my account.  The other day I downloaded Adobe Reader.  Guess what?  Yep.  Had to agree before proceeding.  I'm pretty sure you even have a similar step when first becoming a member of the Facebook community.  So tell me this...why do I have to agree before "friending" 400 people on the internet but any old person can have a child?

For years, (long before actually becoming a parent) I have been an advocate of a parental application process.  I think you should have to apply to have a child.  At minimum, you should have to click a box that you agree to the terms before proceeding.  A requirement of acceptance of the terms might cause many to think before acting, and would, undoubtedly, significantly lower the birth rate and a plethora of other social dilemmas.

Terms of Parenthood
By entering into this intimate relationship with the opposite sex, you are agreeing that you understand childbirth is a possibility and you are willing to accept the new environment of your life when said child is born.  Changes to existing life environment may include but are not limited to:
  • Foregoing vanity of any kind during the 10 months your body is inhabited by another and the unspecified number of labor hours when 27 people are present as the child is birthed
  • Living in a zombie-like trance for 6-8 weeks due to waking every 2 hours to feed the child
  • Spending the equivalent of a designer pair of jeans every month to purchase something your child can poop in and then you throw away
  • Cleaning spit up, throw up, vomit, food items and other random bodily fluids from every carpeted or upholstered surface of your home or vehicle
  • Running new bath water at least twice after the child has some form of nasty accident in the water which you have the added bonus of touching in order to run said bath water
  • After spending the designer jean equivalent above, monthly spending the price of a pair of new shoes in addition so as to pay for food stuffs, doctors visits, clothing and accessories
  • Fishing puzzle pieces, tupperware and other random household objects from the toilet after the child finds it and considers it a new play area
  • Becoming "that" person at the restaurant who continues to eat yet can't seem to control their child but being unwilling to leave due to the price of said meal
  • Showering at extreme hours of the day and night in relation to nap/sleep times
  • At times, going days with no shower at all when nap/sleep time doesn't allow
  • Showering with small child in the stall because you are unable to ensure the safety of your home and family pet if child is left unattended for the 10 minutes you hurriedly bathe
  • Trading your top ranked songs on the Ipod for a Backyardigans video and Dora the Explorer theme song
  • Losing your ipod for days only to find it the refrigerator
  • Losing weight not by time on the treadmill but due to lack of food because what's on Mommy's plate seems to somehow have more appeal although it's the same thing as on the child's plate
  • Losing additional weight by chasing the child down the street as he/she tries to walk the dog
  • Gaining back some of lost weight after single-handedly binge eating half a mint chocolate chip ice cream pie
In addition to the above changes in lifestyle, you are agreeing to an overall concession of primary self-thought.  You agree to thinking first about the welfare, safety, happiness and comfort of the child before any thought is given to your own desires, needs or wants.

In return for the acceptance of these terms, you will learn more love and joy than you could imagine while simultaneously functioning at a level of fatigue you thought impossible to sustain human life.

If you agree, click to proceed.  
If you don't, you might want to rethink some things.

Oct 15, 2010

Why Somedays Motherhood is War

Hundreds of publications have been written about kids who are strong-willed and high-spirited.  I've read them.  Dr. Dobson and I spend lots of time together - him telling me I'm not alone and me searching the pages of his book for renewed strength for what he accurately calls "war."  For those of you with compliant children, I know that seems harsh.  I'm sure you think me cruel to consider a trip to the grocery store with my child a war, but let me assure you, war was waged today at Central Market.

I'll get to the war, but first, I have to explain this phrase that has come to describe my baby girl.  Some children are, for the most part, even-tempered.  They cry, fuss or cause a ruckus at times, but it in no way defines them.  In my new bedside reading companion, The Strong-Willed Child, Dr. Dobson calls these kids "compliant."  Compliant children wish to please their parents and are generally willing to comply to rules and boundaries so as to keep that good-will relationship between the generations.  Then there are strong-willed kids.  While a compliant child accepts a boundary at face value and stays within it, a strong-willed child challenges every authority, pushes every boundary and attempts to break every rule.  It is innately imbedded in their DNA to respect only that authority which they have challenged and deemed worthy.  As with any descriptive term, there is a bit of a sliding scale involved.  Some kids are more drastically strong-willed, while some push the limits but submit rather quickly.

Brynna has a will and a boldness that would melt most adults. On the sliding scale, we're bumping up against the dot at the far end of the line.  That doesn't mean she's not undeniably fun.  She just has this internal need to see if I really am as strong as I tell her I am.  So many times a day, we battle.  And sometimes, we have to fight a war.

Our day started with a fun adventure.  Brynna woke up happy and smiley and got dressed with Daddy.  Then she and I loaded in the car and met Nay Nay for breakfast.  She sang, clapped and talked to passing traffic the whole way there, but as soon as we entered, she didn't want to play.  She wouldn't talk to Janay at first and tried to climb from her highchair in an attempt to leave.  After she and I had a strong conversation in a heavy whisper, she decided it in her best interest to sit on her bottom.  As breakfast went on, she warmed up a bit and eventually colored and blew kisses to passers-by.

Battle One - Mom: 1, Brynna: 0

After breakfast, we had a few errands to run.  We stopped at Target where we only needed to make a return so had no need for a cart.  This did not please the princess, who threw herself to the ground in front of the rows of red shopping carts, blocking exiting shoppers.  Another strong conversation was had (this time not whispered) and a leg was spanked.  Once again, BG decided it in her best interest to listen and obey, so we made it to Customer Service and completed our transaction.

Battle Two - Mom: 2, Brynna 0

The walk back to the car was fun - we skipped and ran - and then we headed to Central Market.  Immediately upon entering the parking lot, Brynna started calling for a balloon (how she knows one grocery store from another is beyond me).  Green balloon in tow, we breezed through produce, talked to a friend from church near the granola bars and then made our way to dairy.  As I attempted to buy Brie cheese for my husband (I don't eat it so I get completely confused), Brynna informed me she needed to potty.  We hurried to the restroom where she did, in fact, potty like a big girl!  Of course her excellent potty skills deserved a dance break, so we danced and giggled in the bathroom and then talked the man at the gelato counter into giving the big girl a treat (aka: M&M).  (Sidenote - We spared the nice gelato man the details of why we needed the treat.  While I believe in rewarding and praising children, I do not feel the need to discuss bodily functions with strangers.)

Then we got in line to pay.  Or as I like to call it, we entered the arena.

I needed to pay for our groceries, apparently Brynna needed to leave.  With no warning at all, Brynna decided she did not need to ride in the cart anymore and began attempting to jump the 3+ feet to the ground.  She caused such a scene that a woman approached and begged me to be careful as her child had fallen from a shopping cart and ended up in a body cast.  While I sensed how serious she was and appreciated her concern, it was not for lack of care that my child was trying to swan dive to the linoleum.  It was merely the boundary she decided to push this day.  There was nothing Brynna wanted and no reason for her not to sit in the cart.  Simply put, she did not want to do what I wanted her to do.  And she was willing to give it all 20 pounds of her might to fight me about it.  So as the two patrons in front of us rang and paid for their groceries, Brynna and I did head-to-head, no holds barred combat.  In addition to trying to leap from the cart, she was kicking, screaming, hitting and flailing.  There is a vast difference in a hurt child's face and what I was looking at.  She was not sad, she was mad.  She was not crying, she was making a deep-gutteral sound usually reserved for large animals.  I tried holding her but her flailing legs almost took out the poor woman behind us, so back in the cart she went.  At one point, I had her strapped in and was holding her arms in one hand and a foot in the other.  We paid in a similar locked position and walked to the car intertwined.  I then wrestled her (literally) into her carseat where she finally calmed down about 5 minutes from the house.

I know you're thinking what half the store was..."Oh my gosh, what's wrong with that child?"  (Or you were just thinking you're glad your kid is compliant!)  If I'd had a microphone, even though sweaty and frustrated, I would have loved to explain.  Instead, I was at war.  So here is my response to the sweet patrons of Central Market on Lovers Lane in Dallas:


There is absolutely nothing wrong with Brynna.  While she appears angry, she really isn't.  She could care less about a shopping cart.  It's not about a cart at all.  It's about who's in charge.  I say I am.  She wants to see if I really am.  She is simply looking for someone to be strong enough to trust and respect, and until I take my last breath, with everything I have, I am going to prove to her that I am that person.  She needs to know she can trust God.  She needs to know she can respect the authority He places over her.  And it is my job to fight tooth-and-nail to show her just that.  I'm sorry our battle had to be in the grocery line today, and I apologize if it disrupted your day.  I would have much preferred a calm morning as well.  But bigger than my desire for calm is the desire to fight...and win.  I will fight Brynna for Brynna.  And you will thank me...one day she's likely to be your president.


War Tally - Mom wins

Oct 11, 2010

5 Things I Learned Last Week

In the world of Brynna, one good car ride does not imply a second good car ride.  Tuesday was awesome.  As we drove to Oklahoma, she snacked and watched the "yardigans" for about an hour, napped for almost 2 hours and then played the last hour and a half.  Granted, it wasn't perfect.  I was pulling out new toys from the passenger seat every 10 minutes like Houdini, but we made it to Tulsa without leaving my sanity on the road somewhere. The drive home on Saturday...not so much.  There was very little napping, we were no longer impressed with the trick of pulling out new toys and everyone just wanted to get out of the car - Miles (the dog) included.

You can still get lost going somewhere you've been a hundred times.  Or, more specifically, Hope can. Hope and I have been friends since we were 11. My parents have lived in the same house for the past 12 years. On her way there, Hope missed her exit and drove to Arkansas.  I'm not exaggerating.  She called me 60 miles southeast of my parents house, about 15 minutes from the Arkansas state line.  It's not a new occurrence for Hope to call me for directions, but this was a new twist. 

Newborns really do wake that many times at night.  I think when it's your child, you reach a point of delirium where you are no longer aware of how tired you are. While I love my goddaughter Hannah like she's my own, I did not birth her and therefore, did not have this luxury.  (If you can call sleep-deprived delerium a luxury.) While staying with them a few days, I was always (2am or middle of the afternoon) acutely aware of how tired I was.  And am.  It's a week later and I'm still sleepy.

Brynna has a few great loves in life and topping the list are Yaya and Papa.  While I do not doubt her love for her me, I'm pretty sure she was not aware that she hadn't seen me in days.  Give a kid 2 dogs, 2 horses, 2 cats, cows and 65 acres to roam, and she's happy as a lark.  When I got there Friday afternoon, she ran over, gave me a hug and then immediately wanted to go sit by Papa again.  (Sidenote: I did not realize until I typed this that my dad is Noah.  He's got all kinds of animals two-by-two!)

Try as we may to disagree, they are our minis - all of them.  Hannah is not even 3 month old and she will put you in your place with a look.  Just like her mama.  MacKenzie, Nia and Nala put on several shows for us (including a beautiful rendition of If You're Happy and You Know It...) because they always want everyone to feel included.  Just like their mama.  And depending on the moment, BG had lots of fun, lots to say and lots of attitude.  Just like...her daddy.

Oct 3, 2010

The God I serve...

There are times that we get so caught up in our lives that we forget to thank God for the air we breathe, the life we live and the blessing it is just to "be."  Then there are other times...  Times when you hurt so badly you are innately aware of God's power because you desperately need it.  Times when your heart is so full that everywhere you look, you see evidence of how small you are and how big God is.  

There is a passage in Luke 19 that has been on my heart recently.  Jesus had been healing the sick, blind and possessed, he had been teaching and instructing.  As he entered Jerusalem, "the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen.  They said, 'Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!  Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!'  But some in the crowd said to Jesus, 'Teacher, rebuke your disciples!'  He replied, 'If they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.'"

These disciples weren't singing worship songs because they happened to be at church.  They weren't praising God with their friends while unfortunately excluding those who didn't know Him.  They weren't saying what sounded pretty.  They were simply being honest.  They were proclaiming the amazing things they had witnessed and experienced.  It wasn't a show.  It was Real.  They were so amazed it was impossible for them not to talk about it.  The God they served was too big for them to be quiet.

I understand those people.  I AM those people.  The God I serve is big - so big at times that I get overwhelmed and it's impossible not to talk about it.

The God I serve...
  • Healed Zoe's cancer - We laid side-by-side in her hospital bed, and I held her when she was sickest.  I kissed her perfectly bald head and clipped her nails when the chemo made them peel.  I was there for her worst days.  And I was there for the best ones.  Just a few months ago, I played with her in the pool and planted strawberries in my backyard.  I watched her run and roll and kick and skip.  You have to acknowledge the worst days to fully appreciate the best days.  She wasn't a little sick.  She didn't have something that can be explained away or could have worked itself out.  As scary as it still is to say, she would have died.  The God I serve healed her little body, renewed the faith of her mom and in turn, ensured that Zoe (and her brother, dad and other family) will get to hear His Good News.
  • Formed Hannah's body - My newest god-daughter was born at 26 weeks, 14 weeks early.  She weighed just over 2 lbs on July 20th.  At the time, there was no real explanation as to why Brandy went into labor so early.  Since then we have learned that she had a rare infection.  I don't know if that infection would have hurt Hannah.  I don't know if Brandy could have carried her longer with medication and bed-rest.  What I do know is that while Hannah was tiny and needed to finish developing her lungs, she was otherwise perfectly healthy.  In all her time in the NICU, she never once had complications or illness.  She went home on Friday weighing almost 6 lbs, eating better than some "normal" newborns.  The God I serve formed her perfect little body right before our eyes and taught us new levels of prayer in the meantime.
  • Mended my marriage - After church last week, a friend told me what a blessing it was for her to see David and I holding hands as we sang.  She commented on how much in love we are and how sweet it is.  Like everything that's truly worth something, that love was costly.  We held hands on Sunday because we know from experience those words to be true - He is the Only thing that's everlasting, the Only thing you can set your hope in.  A few years ago, we sat in our living room at opposite ends of the sofa and said we'd both rather not do this anymore.  If it were up to us, we would have gone our ways and begun the process of making new lives that weren't so hard and didn't hurt so bad.  But the God I serve is big enough that when we both looked at him and not ourselves or each other, we learned what Real love, grace, forgiveness, courage, honesty and commitment are about.
  • Saved Brynna - I laugh a lot about not wanting to be pregnant again.  That joking, however, will never mean that I take for granted the gift of my baby girl.  While I didn't love the pregnancy experience, I am most grateful God allowed me to experience the blessing.  Having Brynna under emergency circumstances, watching them rush her away not breathing fully on her own, and trusting her doctors to make the best decisions for her made me all the more aware of whose she is.  She is a gift that was entrusted to David and I.  The God I serve healed her so that I could learn a little deeper what it means to trust and be blessed by Him.
  • Filled my empty places - Some holes are there whether we asked for them or not.  Some holes we inflict upon ourselves.  Some holes have the potential to swallow the rest of you.  While I grew up saying and doing the right things, I found myself at 23 with a lot of emptiness.  As I stood on the edge of one of those gaping holes about to collapse in on myself, a hand pulled me out.  The process of filling those holes was long and arduous.  It was painful, dark at times, and overwhelming.  But the God I serve heaped grace so lavishly on me that He didn't just fill my empty spaces; there are mountains where holes used to be. 
The God I serve is big.  Huge.  He's so large that, at times, I find it hard to comprehend.  That's where I find myself today.  In complete awe and feeling so inadequate to express it.

Let me never be guilty of being quiet so the stones have to praise in my place...

ShareThis