My Next 30 years - Reflections on turning 30

You may have already heard... but I turned 30 yesterday.  I figured I'd jot down a few reflections for those of you interested in reading them.

1.  As the day approached, I realized I had been a lot more excited about entering the previous decade than this one.  The only good reason was because I knew that the next decade would be the big 4-0... and at that point you can't even pretend you're young any more.  But 29 years and 360 days old.... c'mon, I'm still in my 20's baby!  Not any more.  However, just one day into this new decade of life and I actually already like it.  Maybe it's the fact that I like responsibility and influence more these days, and I think both of those increase (or should!) with age.  Who knows.

2.  This past weekend was a significant one in that it represented many things coming together at once.  On an important-but-not-ultimate level, my house finally got a backyard.  4+ months of hard work, lots of stress, plenty of money, and tons of volunteer hours from friends has made the dream come true.  But more significantly I saw a lot of people this weekend, had friends over, and realized that I'm at the point where I have close friends who I've known "since I was a kid" but also close friends who just became close friends in the past 3-6 months.  That's when you know that a) you're getting older and b) you're blessed to still be making friends.

3.  I'm loving almost every minute of being a daddy.  I say "almost" only because the past week has been rough, and it's not the only rough week we've had with our little man.  But that pales in comparison to being able to be the father to a wonderful son.  Sure he'll start breaking my heart with his disobedience soon enough, and sure I'll get frustrated with him at times and then realize he's just like I was when I was a kid (unless he has Noelle's childhood temperament, in which case I'll be very happy!), but literally nothing in my life has compared to this relationship forming with my son.  I'm looking forward to this next decade with Colton.... and maybe another kiddo... and maybe a 3rd?  Whoa, slow down their tiger.

4.  I want my 30's to be more fun than my 20's.  But it will be fun in vastly different ways.  Fun in my 20's had a lot to do with sports and college for a while, then with moving to a new city and totally loving the adventure that Portland was for us.  Fun in my 30's will be filled with being a dad, planting even deeper roots in this local area of Placer County, going on family trips, serving in my church, improving the quality of life in my home one step at a time, and hopefully still playing a decent amount of golf.  But I believe the fun will indeed be better because it will be richer as the family grows.

5.  Tim McGraw's song "My next 30 years" has been in my head for a while.  I really do need to write some resolutions for my next 30 years.  Truth be told, I'm at the very beginning of the best 30 year period of my life (1-30, 30-60, 60-90... if the Lord keeps me here that long).  I've still got plenty of energy, I'm growing in wisdom with my finances, I love planning things with my wonderful wife, always trying to soak in the beauty of God's creation around me and wanting to be an integral part of expanding God's Kingdom in our region and around the world.  I do believe these next 30 years will somehow be better than the first set of 30 I've already lived.

Much more could be said but I want to keep it short and sweet.  For those of you well beyond your 30's and reading this, please provide some piece of advice, word of caution, or anything else you think I need to know in the comments section below :)

 -- Chris

Dirt for the Soul

We are re-doing our back yard at the moment.  Not to mention, maintaining the front yard.  And there's the side vegetable garden as well.  Home ownership will really keep you in the dirt.  If you enjoy that kind of thing.  We didn't know we did, until we got a little dirty.

I confess I like to have my stuff together.  Is there anything wrong with that?  I crave structure and routine.  And when I have it, I enjoy the room to create and allow for improvisation, but I definitely like to plan for that freedom.  And like many things in life, parenting is an opportunity for change in this area for me.  The first time I put my Tupperware back into the cabinet and he looked at me like "aw, thanks mom" and took it all out again with such joy... that's when I realized that this kid was gonna help sanctify me.  And I want to thrive in the process, not fight it.

My dad, also type-A/planner/clean-freak type, was finishing dinner while visiting for Colton's birthday.  He commented how blessed he was that my floors were dirty.  I call them "distressed" which means I can get away with the "barn look" a few days longer than most.  He said when I was a little girl, he saw me coloring one day and I was getting so frustrated at myself because I couldn't stay within the lines.  He pulled back, wide-eyed and realized this was the "him" in me that was coming out.  He said my floors give him hope that maybe my children might be a little more normalized because at least I was okay with dirt.

I laughed out loud, thinking about how it drove me crazy that I didn't get to clean my floors before the big birthday party that weekend.  But when I look down to see that my son is MOST happy when his bare feet and hands are ash grey from going in and out of our sliding door, traipsing in more dirt each time, I just shake my head in joy.  I can feel the good for my soul, and for his, right then and there- watching him make a mess, knowing that we can clean him later, and that he'll sleep better, and that hosing down your kid is such a better feeling than locking him inside just because you don't want to deal with the mess that day.

Colton loves dirt so much.  He'll squish it, lick it, hit it.  And while I know it's normal for little boys to enjoy all things earth and worm related, I think it's been especially good for me to have a boy.  I'm leaving so much of my clean self outside these days.  Weeding while watching him play with the hose, or replanting that same poor basil plant he keeps pulling out of the garden bed as if he'd finally found his favorite one.  It's all so good.  I love getting dirty with him.  I love picking him up even though that means getting my shirt mud swiped.  I love washing our hands together afterwards and watching the water go from brown to clear.  He's not thinking twice about what's happening, but I'm hoping this discipline of dirt play will instill a freedom to let the dirty floors go when I come to visit someday, and give him a love for cultivating earth that his father and I have discovered about ourselves.

Here's to more laundry, and grassed stained jeans- his and mine.  I love being a mom to a boy.  It's so good for my soul.

My Baby Turns One Tomorrow

A year ago tomorrow, I got to see my baby's face for the first time.  It's so strange to think I didn't know what he would look like, and now I can't get his face out of my mind.  That face has changed so much in the last year.  I have changed too.  No one can prepare you for the love of a child.  It's so magnificent.

In one year, our hearts have been filled to the brim with joy for Colton Sterling.  How is it possible that I can grow to love him more?  Thought I would reflect through some flash backs over the year... cause each time I was in the shower thinking about what to write about I got lost in these random memories.

My Ministry Is Sleeping

Tried to time it right.  Skipped my shower, teased my hair instead.  Husband brought out all the stops.  But after taking my exhausted son into my arms just 15 minutes before we should be leaving for church, he looked up at me with the most tired eyes and we both understood each other.  This day, this nap, this time, sleep was more important to his little body.  And it was momma's job to notice that.

I love the Church.  People from all different kinds of backgrounds and upbringings coming together to worship God.  Gatherings on Sundays were and are very important to my husband and I.  But something not talked about until you are in it, is the sacrifice Sundays become when you have little ones.

I'm seeing each week into this motherhood adventure that every day is different and each Sunday is a new decision.  So I haven't written off church.  But my expectations are low, and if we get there for half a sermon Praise Be To God!  And if my son needs a three hour nap that morning, Praise Be To God.  My ministry has been refocused for a little bit, (or just concentrated for a while) on my son.  My family is my first ministry right now.

My call to know intuitively what he needs in that moment is one I take seriously.  Last week that was a good ol' college try in the nursery and we made it through a whole service.  Today his growing body needs me not to push him.  Before having kids we loved having people over several nights a week, sharing life with other couples, spontaneous dinner parties... and now my ministry is to quiet the house down after a difficult day, turn off the noisy toys or just GET ON THE FLOOR that I haven't swept and play with the legos.

It takes discipline to find satisfaction in this "ministry" on some days, if I'm being honest.  But when I do find it, God reminds my soul that this indeed is EXACTLY what He is calling me to do.

Only by His power...

I hate setting goals.  Probably because of the let down if I don't make it.  I don't start over easily.  I take responsibility and finish to the end, even if it's ugly and no one's watching.  It's just who I am.  Knowing this, I don't make commitments lightly.  That being said, I have "pushers" around me.  Ones who know I'm not into change, and check in on me to make sure I'm growing as a person.

But after being convicted about my pessimism with resolutions on Sunday, I've decided to put on a new attitude (Thanks Scott).  "Expect great things from God and attempt great things for God." - William Carey.  He wants us to enjoy Him, and enjoy this life living for Him.

In starting a new year, I kind of want rest, to take a breather, and to be still.  These are good things.  But they can instill some laziness as a woman of faith, if in them too long.  So I'm going to simplify but expect God to rock our world again.  I'm going to sleep hard but expect God to wake me up when necessary.

And "attempt."  What a great word.  Making an effort to achieve or complete.  It implies really going for it, but in the end it's about the process.  God wants me to attempt.  Whether or not He'll use it is up to Him.  But the expectation of standing up and going is what counts.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to be the wife of my husband's dreams in order to bless the heck out of him.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to be the best possible mother for Colton- whether that means tough love or unending compassion.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to be a faithful friend when called upon.

I'm going to ATTEMPT to find my beauty and identity in Christ, and not in the expectations of this world.

I'm going to ATTEMPT all these things only by His power in me.  Any goal setting, or wishful thinking on my own accord will lead to guilt upon failure.  I know there is victory to be had.  And He's gonna get all the credit this time.

Happy New Year.

How do we do it?

I'm convinced that we're in the middle of what some moms call a "wonder week."  More whining.  Less sleeping.  Some growing, some teething, learning new skills.  It's all tough on their little bodies.  But it's tough on our bodies too.

It's pretty routine for me to wake up and my very first thought is not "what a beautiful day to be alive" (although, it should be, and I have so much to be thankful for).  But instead I immediately ask myself what I have going on, and maybe I should cancel everything and hide in bed.  I've been a mom long enough now that blaming things on hormones seems rather passe, so instead I find myself sarcastic and exhausted.

Then I look at this photo from this morning.  I see my son.  Wide mouthed.  Clinging to my shirt.  Who am I kidding.  He is so worth all this.  I must go on.

My friend called me on her one free moment yesterday (new mother of two... we mostly text and show our love through emodicons these days).  She reminded me that I did not possess this capacity to love this human sacrificially until he was here.  And then, God granted it.  Now I can extend it.  We laughed thinking about "all of His children" that He loves so fully and perfectly.  And we struggle to stay awake without coffee.  Ha.

So thank you God, for knowing what I can handle.  After a difficult week, my son graced me with a three hour nap window to shower, shave, fold laundry and write.  And thank you friend, for the phone call.  And thank you son, for being an amazing growing and changing child.  I may be tired, but I'm not going anywhere.

The Art of Showering

My advise to my nine-months-pregnant sister?

Shower.  Often.  And long.

I actually did this.  Showered twice in one day just because I could when I was pregnant.  I would sit in the shower just to drift off, pray and think.  Soaking up the silence and the water beads.

Now it goes a little like this:

My shower is all about strategy.  It needs to happen after I've exercised, but also after my son's best nap, and decent feeding, and in a moment of time where there really is nothing else that should take it's priority.  Finding that spot is tricky sometimes.  Welcome to 10 minutes of my world.

Photo cred: Alphamom.com

Step 1: During nap set up the bathroom.  Clean clothes, potential changes of clothes, phone, water, clean towel, and about 5 toys that have not been "revealed" that day.  These toys must be exciting enough to hold at least 60 seconds of attention and be small enough to sit on the tub ledge (concealed behind the outer curtain.)

Step 2: Child wakes.  Feed and change him.  Assess mood.  The last thing you want is a screaming child outside of few moments of peace.

Step 3: Strap child into bouncy chair.  Still praying this chair grows with him, seeing that it's your saving grace for this stage in his lives.

Step 4: Begin song #1.  I have a repertoire of about 10 songs I can sing on command including mostly hymns, choruses of country tunes and Christmas songs.  Of all the songs we hear throughout the year, it's the Christmas ones that have the sticking power.  Seriously- all 4 verses of Joy to the World?  No problem.  Plus they are jolly and kid friendly.

Step 5: Turn water on, remove clothes and deliver Toy #1.  It deserves an exciting introduction as to hopefully squeeze the most out of it, because there will only be four more options.  The clock has begun.

Step 6: Begin song #2, complete with changed lyrics about how you're shampooing your hair and how much mommy loves baby.  Then you hear that sound.  Toy #1 has fallen on the ground.  The bouncy seat starts bouncing to the rhythm of his whining.  You poke your head out, and he smiles.  30 seconds of peek-a-boo.  Then it's time for conditioner and Toy #2.  Once again brought from behind the curtain with great surprise and exaggerated excitement!

Step 7:  Song #2 suddenly becomes song #1 because your mind drifted off to what's for dinner.  Toy #2 drops to floor.  Panic and sadness abounds.

Step 8:  Failed attempt at peek-a-boo.  Duh mom, you already used that one.  Oh!  Peek-a-boo from the other side of the shower.  30 seconds bought to lather body with soap.

Step 9:  Toy #3 is violently thrown against the door.  Two toys left... to shave or not shave.  That is ALWAYS the question.

Step 10:  Toy #4 surprising lasts longer than usual.  You peek out, concerned, only to find him trying to lean out of the bouncy seat.  Time for Toy #5.  I guess we're not shaving.

Step 11:  Song #3 on repeat cause your mind is a little numb.  You make a mental note of how desperately you need to clean the shower- after all it is your little peace of heaven, sometimes.  Oh and get Shampoo at Costco.  And the grout needs scrubbing.  Should call mom about her tricks for that.  Does the phone need charging?  ...Then that sounds we all hate to hear... Toy #5 hits the floor.  You could lean out to get it for him to buy you another minute, but then there would be water all over the floor and you'd spend that extra minute cleaning it up anyway.  Nah... sigh.  It's time to get out. 

Now there's probably not time for make up, and you might as well just throw your hair in a bun.  Muster up song #4 complete with made up hand motions just so you can throw your clothes on.  All this for 10 minutes of your life.  

But hey... at least we're clean.  That's sayin' something.