I know, it's been a while since I've blogged, and honestly there isn't much I have time to write right now, but that doesn't mean there's not anything to tell --- so you'll just have to stay tuned for future posts ;-)
There have been a lot of changes happening, a lot of possibilities on the horizon, and Brontë has been rockin our world every day a long the way --- gosh I love her --- but truthfully, this post isn't going to go in depth with any of it.
I just know that if I don't get blogging again soon, I probably won't get blogging ever. So, to kick off getting back into the swing of things {was that 2 unrelated sports references I just mixed together?} here's a little video I took today of our little water baby in the pool for the first time.
*As always --- go pause my "iPOD" on the right hand side of the page so you don't have to deal with competing audio*
These steps, which are filled with movements of poise, elation, humility, and failure, are compiled in a choreographed dance that is designed to begin and end on my knees... with my hands stretched high praying, “More of You! Less of me!”.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Thursday, June 7, 2012
{You'll find him} {Next to me}
With our 2 year wedding anniversary just days away, I'm finding myself particularly reminiscent, thankful, and in the deepest love I'd ever imagined could be shared between a man and woman.
I love you Nick. I always will.
Though our relationship has been riddled with challenges from the beginning, and it's never been "easy", I honestly would never have wanted it to be --- You see --- with every hardship, your love and loyalty have been set a flame --- You are a resonating blaze within my soul --- You have lead me with fierce grace, and our love has gained a lasting glow that can only be achieved traversing the fires. Thank you for your love.
I love you Nick. I always will.
Though our relationship has been riddled with challenges from the beginning, and it's never been "easy", I honestly would never have wanted it to be --- You see --- with every hardship, your love and loyalty have been set a flame --- You are a resonating blaze within my soul --- You have lead me with fierce grace, and our love has gained a lasting glow that can only be achieved traversing the fires. Thank you for your love.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
{On This Day} {May 18th}
On this day --- three years ago
The ordinary became extraordinary.
We all know the story --- boy meets girl --- sparks fly --- they fall --- first comes love then comes marriage style.
It happens for most people at some point in time, and it happened for us on this day, three years ago.
We moved fast --- too fast in some people's opinion --- we were a couple almost immediately. Completely inseparable --- We still are --- In the 1,096 days that have passed since, we have only been apart for 4 of them {Too many, if you ask us}.
I've always been too much of aREALIST cynic to believe in love at first sight, but looking back, I can see that's exactly what it was.
Nick won my heart at record speed, and has cared for it tenderly each day since.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now, fast forward 2 years from then --- or rewind 1 from now {Confused yet?}
Either way, you'll land on this day --- one year ago
We were at the doctors about to find out if we indeed were viably pregnant, or if an early miscarriage or ectopic pregnancy were the cause of my positive pregnancy test from 10 days earlier.
As you know from my May 8th post, I had an appointment the following day to discuss and formulate a plan to take care of my cysts and solid mass that had taken up unwelcome residency on my ovaries. However, the day before that appointment, I tested positive with an at home pregnancy test, which would shift the entire game plan if it were a for real positive.
However, at that appointment, my OB-GYN did an ultrasound, and couldn't find any evidence of a pregnancy. Her immediate concern was that we were dealing with an ectopic pregnancy, so she sent me for a second opinion and to get further imaging done, but it was all inconclusive --- The second --- and very desensitized --- opinion we got was that I was definitely not pregnant, at least not with a viable pregnancy, and that it seemed, in addition to my ovarian problems, I had endometriosis, which would also make it difficult for me to ever become pregnant. He said that I most likely was dealing with an early ectopic pregnancy or that I was literally in the middle of a miscarriage.
I was heartbroken, and with my voice quivering with hopelessness, I asked him if it was at all possible i was pregnant, but that maybe it was just too early to see anything --- he said it was possible --- but highly unlikely.
My OB-GYN then ordered blood work to be done on me a couple times a few days apart in order to check my hormone levels, and we scheduled another appointment to discuss the results.
So on this day, a year ago, we were waiting --- nervously --- to hear those results. Either - A - my hormones tapered off, which would indicate a miscarriage or - B - They would show an increase indicating either ectopic or possibly normal pregnancy.
It was B --- and against all the odds given us, it appeared to be a normal pregnancy!
On this day, one year ago, Nick and I caught the first glimpse of our daughter --- just the tiniest of gestational sacks --- seemingly empty --- but full of hope.
The ordinary became extraordinary.
We all know the story --- boy meets girl --- sparks fly --- they fall --- first comes love then comes marriage style.
It happens for most people at some point in time, and it happened for us on this day, three years ago.
We moved fast --- too fast in some people's opinion --- we were a couple almost immediately. Completely inseparable --- We still are --- In the 1,096 days that have passed since, we have only been apart for 4 of them {Too many, if you ask us}.
I've always been too much of a
Nick won my heart at record speed, and has cared for it tenderly each day since.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Now, fast forward 2 years from then --- or rewind 1 from now {Confused yet?}
Either way, you'll land on this day --- one year ago
We were at the doctors about to find out if we indeed were viably pregnant, or if an early miscarriage or ectopic pregnancy were the cause of my positive pregnancy test from 10 days earlier.
As you know from my May 8th post, I had an appointment the following day to discuss and formulate a plan to take care of my cysts and solid mass that had taken up unwelcome residency on my ovaries. However, the day before that appointment, I tested positive with an at home pregnancy test, which would shift the entire game plan if it were a for real positive.
However, at that appointment, my OB-GYN did an ultrasound, and couldn't find any evidence of a pregnancy. Her immediate concern was that we were dealing with an ectopic pregnancy, so she sent me for a second opinion and to get further imaging done, but it was all inconclusive --- The second --- and very desensitized --- opinion we got was that I was definitely not pregnant, at least not with a viable pregnancy, and that it seemed, in addition to my ovarian problems, I had endometriosis, which would also make it difficult for me to ever become pregnant. He said that I most likely was dealing with an early ectopic pregnancy or that I was literally in the middle of a miscarriage.
I was heartbroken, and with my voice quivering with hopelessness, I asked him if it was at all possible i was pregnant, but that maybe it was just too early to see anything --- he said it was possible --- but highly unlikely.
My OB-GYN then ordered blood work to be done on me a couple times a few days apart in order to check my hormone levels, and we scheduled another appointment to discuss the results.
So on this day, a year ago, we were waiting --- nervously --- to hear those results. Either - A - my hormones tapered off, which would indicate a miscarriage or - B - They would show an increase indicating either ectopic or possibly normal pregnancy.
It was B --- and against all the odds given us, it appeared to be a normal pregnancy!
On this day, one year ago, Nick and I caught the first glimpse of our daughter --- just the tiniest of gestational sacks --- seemingly empty --- but full of hope.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
{On This Day} {May 8th}
On this day --- One year ago --- I was having a bad day.
It was one of those days that started with a big Eeyore cloud above it, which seemed to expand with each passing hour.
It was Mother's Day, 2011, and as many of you know from my last post --- I was dealing with some medical news blues, and Mother's Day was a hard day to face wondering if I would ever be blessed enough to be able to be a Mother.
I got out of bed, and got ready for work, happy for once to be working on a Sunday --- Happy to be able to forget for the next 8 hours about my worries and just lease some apartments --- but that's not what happened.
When I got to work, I saw a huge vase of different colored carnations {my least favorite flower} and was instructed by management to offer the flowers to residents and prospects a like as a Mother's Day token.
I had to have seen about a hundred people that day, many of whom were Mothers. I did my best to give them a genuine smile as I offered them flowers and congratulations, but I just wanted to cry. I was plagued with worry over my follow up appointment that was scheduled for the following day {May 9th}, worried about all the possible outcomes --- worries that had radically multiplied since my ER visit a few weeks prior; and suddenly my day to forget --- this day, one year ago --- irrevocably became a day of perpetuating reminders.
I got home on my lunch break, and was met at the door by my husband, who immediately could tell I was having a difficult day. I had held it together as best I could, but in the safety of our home and my husbands arms, I lost it.
I don't know if it was hope, or fear that propelled my next action, but I marched directly to the restroom, peed on a stick, and cast it aside without waiting to see the results --- I already knew what it would say. NO. Like the doctor said --- until we got my issues sorted, children would not be in our future. I put my head down and cried.
Nick came in to check on me a couple minutes later, and somewhere in between my incoherent sobs he saw the pregnancy test. He asked me if I had just taken it, and why --- I told him that before some doctor goes poking and prodding around up there tomorrow at my appointment, starting treatments, and scheduling surgery --- I just wanted to check again and make sure there was nothing we needed to protect. I said it was stupid, illogical, and that I knew it was a no --- of course it's a no --- it will always be a NO!
But just then, Nick got a closer look, and with a wash of shock over his face and the most giddy smile I've ever seen, he said, "I think it's a yes --- that's what 2 lines means, right?". We lost it --- together this time --- in complete and utter elation.
Unfortunately, our elation was cut short. But more on that later.
It was one of those days that started with a big Eeyore cloud above it, which seemed to expand with each passing hour.
It was Mother's Day, 2011, and as many of you know from my last post --- I was dealing with some medical news blues, and Mother's Day was a hard day to face wondering if I would ever be blessed enough to be able to be a Mother.
I got out of bed, and got ready for work, happy for once to be working on a Sunday --- Happy to be able to forget for the next 8 hours about my worries and just lease some apartments --- but that's not what happened.
When I got to work, I saw a huge vase of different colored carnations {my least favorite flower} and was instructed by management to offer the flowers to residents and prospects a like as a Mother's Day token.
I had to have seen about a hundred people that day, many of whom were Mothers. I did my best to give them a genuine smile as I offered them flowers and congratulations, but I just wanted to cry. I was plagued with worry over my follow up appointment that was scheduled for the following day {May 9th}, worried about all the possible outcomes --- worries that had radically multiplied since my ER visit a few weeks prior; and suddenly my day to forget --- this day, one year ago --- irrevocably became a day of perpetuating reminders.
I got home on my lunch break, and was met at the door by my husband, who immediately could tell I was having a difficult day. I had held it together as best I could, but in the safety of our home and my husbands arms, I lost it.
I don't know if it was hope, or fear that propelled my next action, but I marched directly to the restroom, peed on a stick, and cast it aside without waiting to see the results --- I already knew what it would say. NO. Like the doctor said --- until we got my issues sorted, children would not be in our future. I put my head down and cried.
Nick came in to check on me a couple minutes later, and somewhere in between my incoherent sobs he saw the pregnancy test. He asked me if I had just taken it, and why --- I told him that before some doctor goes poking and prodding around up there tomorrow at my appointment, starting treatments, and scheduling surgery --- I just wanted to check again and make sure there was nothing we needed to protect. I said it was stupid, illogical, and that I knew it was a no --- of course it's a no --- it will always be a NO!
But just then, Nick got a closer look, and with a wash of shock over his face and the most giddy smile I've ever seen, he said, "I think it's a yes --- that's what 2 lines means, right?". We lost it --- together this time --- in complete and utter elation.
Unfortunately, our elation was cut short. But more on that later.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
{On This Day} {April 24th}
On this day, one year ago ---
It was Easter, and I found myself in the ER.
It was then, that I was diagnosed as having 5 large ovarian cyst, one of which ---the largest one--- was solid, and especially concerning. There was a rumored 6th cyst that had ruptured that day--- the pain from which was what brought us in to the ER, and face-to-face with a very real possibility that we may not be able to have children.
Although, it wasn't completely out of the question, the doctor on call broke it down for us as such: until we can treat my cysts, and remove/diagnose the ominous mass that was literally pulling my ovary downward, and threatening to twist it --- a baby would not be in our future. They explained that in surgery for cysts this size, many times they have to remove part or all of the ovary, and that if we didn't remove the mass soon, and it twisted, my right ovary would most likely die from a lack of blood supply.
Having that 6th cyst rupture that day left me in the most excruciating physical pain I had ever experienced --- true even to this day. But the emotional pain I felt looking at my husband --- who wanted deeply to be a father --- while the doctors told us that the possibility of having children may be in very real danger, was much worse.
Little did anyone know --- BUT GOD --- that HE chose this very vulnerable time, to work through our weakness and fear to prove himself BIGGER than medical probability. You see, on this day one year ago --- I was already pregnant.
Still too early to be picked up on ultrasound {which I had 3 of that day} and even too soon to come up with a positive reading on a pregnancy test {which I had 2 of that day}, she was there--- probably just a floating zygote looking for a comfy place tolay her head embed --- but she was there! My darling Brontë --- My living altar of remembrance that God is sovereign ---My little miss--- The ever constant gravity in my heart which brings me continually to my knees ---
SHE. WAS. THERE.
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I set you apart."
– Jeremiah 1:5
It was Easter, and I found myself in the ER.
It was then, that I was diagnosed as having 5 large ovarian cyst, one of which ---the largest one--- was solid, and especially concerning. There was a rumored 6th cyst that had ruptured that day--- the pain from which was what brought us in to the ER, and face-to-face with a very real possibility that we may not be able to have children.
Although, it wasn't completely out of the question, the doctor on call broke it down for us as such: until we can treat my cysts, and remove/diagnose the ominous mass that was literally pulling my ovary downward, and threatening to twist it --- a baby would not be in our future. They explained that in surgery for cysts this size, many times they have to remove part or all of the ovary, and that if we didn't remove the mass soon, and it twisted, my right ovary would most likely die from a lack of blood supply.
Having that 6th cyst rupture that day left me in the most excruciating physical pain I had ever experienced --- true even to this day. But the emotional pain I felt looking at my husband --- who wanted deeply to be a father --- while the doctors told us that the possibility of having children may be in very real danger, was much worse.
Little did anyone know --- BUT GOD --- that HE chose this very vulnerable time, to work through our weakness and fear to prove himself BIGGER than medical probability. You see, on this day one year ago --- I was already pregnant.
Still too early to be picked up on ultrasound {which I had 3 of that day} and even too soon to come up with a positive reading on a pregnancy test {which I had 2 of that day}, she was there--- probably just a floating zygote looking for a comfy place to
SHE. WAS. THERE.
"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I set you apart."
– Jeremiah 1:5
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
{Brontë} {Baby Push-Ups}
This was taken about a month ago while waiting to see her doctor for her well baby check up --- just now got around to sharing it.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
{Just when you have it down}
Just when you have it down --- You don't.
MOTHERHOOD.
This week has been rather interesting --- Maybe I should preface this by saying that other than Brontë's time in the NICU and some related concerns after bringing her home, she has been a pretty easy breezy baby --- always sleeping great --- not fussy unless for a specific "I'm hungry", "I need a new diaper" sort of reason {or of course the predictable disdain she shows for her car seat}, but this last week she started showing those tell-tale signs that she's beginning to teeth --- super slobbers --- fussy --- biting on anything she can fit in her mouth --- waking up every couple hours through the night like she's in pain --- nursing every opportunity she gets etc.
Upon inspection, my husband and I are seeing whitish areas and various points seemingly trying to poke through --- even in the back! Could they really be MOLARS?! NO! They're suppose to get the front teeth first, right?!
Apparently, not always --- although not common, it can still be considered normal to teeth out of order --- sometimes referred to as Cross Cutting/Cross Teething.
I'm not 100% sure Brontë is Cross Teething, but it's definitely something we're paying more attention to.
Also, due to the fact that she's been nursing so much more than she typically does, I've been getting self conscious that maybe my milk production has plateaued --- maybe it's not full blown teething --- maybe she's not getting enough to eat!?
So, I started taking fenugreek a couple days ago, but now it seems I'm making too much milk and now she's having gas pain from overproduction and getting too much foremilk and not enough hindmilk to balance it! UGH!
Last week Brontë was a happy -- non-fussy --- smiley little angel, and now I think I've made a mess of it all --- trying to fix things that weren't really broken --- and I think it will take a few more days to get things back on track.
On the more positive side, we got Brontë an amber teething necklace, and there seems to be a noticeable decrease of fussiness when she is wearing it.
{Lessons}
Don't freak out --- fussiness to varying degrees is normal --- Don't be so quick to switch up what's been working and blaming everything on milk --- "what did I eat? am I producing enough?!"
Just like we have good and bad days, so do our little ones, and unnecessary changes can cause even more discomfort to you and your baby, so if it ain't really broke, don't fix it.
Be confident, be calm, and be consistent --- offering more cuddles and comfort to sooth your little love. More often than not, when you stress, they stress --- when you're at peace, they're at peace. So Check your mood.
MOTHERHOOD.
This week has been rather interesting --- Maybe I should preface this by saying that other than Brontë's time in the NICU and some related concerns after bringing her home, she has been a pretty easy breezy baby --- always sleeping great --- not fussy unless for a specific "I'm hungry", "I need a new diaper" sort of reason {or of course the predictable disdain she shows for her car seat}, but this last week she started showing those tell-tale signs that she's beginning to teeth --- super slobbers --- fussy --- biting on anything she can fit in her mouth --- waking up every couple hours through the night like she's in pain --- nursing every opportunity she gets etc.
Upon inspection, my husband and I are seeing whitish areas and various points seemingly trying to poke through --- even in the back! Could they really be MOLARS?! NO! They're suppose to get the front teeth first, right?!
Apparently, not always --- although not common, it can still be considered normal to teeth out of order --- sometimes referred to as Cross Cutting/Cross Teething.
I'm not 100% sure Brontë is Cross Teething, but it's definitely something we're paying more attention to.
Also, due to the fact that she's been nursing so much more than she typically does, I've been getting self conscious that maybe my milk production has plateaued --- maybe it's not full blown teething --- maybe she's not getting enough to eat!?
So, I started taking fenugreek a couple days ago, but now it seems I'm making too much milk and now she's having gas pain from overproduction and getting too much foremilk and not enough hindmilk to balance it! UGH!
Last week Brontë was a happy -- non-fussy --- smiley little angel, and now I think I've made a mess of it all --- trying to fix things that weren't really broken --- and I think it will take a few more days to get things back on track.
On the more positive side, we got Brontë an amber teething necklace, and there seems to be a noticeable decrease of fussiness when she is wearing it.
{Lessons}
Don't freak out --- fussiness to varying degrees is normal --- Don't be so quick to switch up what's been working and blaming everything on milk --- "what did I eat? am I producing enough?!"
Just like we have good and bad days, so do our little ones, and unnecessary changes can cause even more discomfort to you and your baby, so if it ain't really broke, don't fix it.
Be confident, be calm, and be consistent --- offering more cuddles and comfort to sooth your little love. More often than not, when you stress, they stress --- when you're at peace, they're at peace. So Check your mood.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
{Why my daughter deserves SSI}
These days we all know someone that has worked the system to get benefits from the government that maybe they don't really need. Whether it's stretching out unemployment benefits because due to the economy you figure you can make more on unemployment than taking a job that pays less than you made in your hay day --- disability that is stretched out to be more than it really disables you --- or giving an oscar worthy performance to be able to claim worker's comp.
This is not the case with my daughter, and I will tell you why.
Although she is doing well now, with only a few continued medical concerns {ie choking, a heart PDA, hip dysplasia, and undetermined developmental effects from her brain bleed} Things weren't always this "EASY" {obviously, I use the word "easy" loosely and with the perspective that things have been a lot worse}
Back in January, I found out that preemies can qualify for SSI, and my husband and I immediately made an appointment to bring her in and file.
THey told us that it may take 3-5 months to reach a final decision, but that if we could bring in our medical records we should be able to start getting paid within 2 weeks. We brought everything in, stacks of paperwork documented with more procedures than I can even count, and the woman conducting our interview said that we had such good documentation that we should be able to start getting paid soon.
Here it is now, at the end of March--- my daughter is coming up on 5 months old, and we haven't received a penny --- all we have received are more appointments.
I've been researching whatever I can find, and unfortunately found today that my daughter may be disqualified from receiving payments due to the fact she was born mere 2 ounces over the 2lb 10 oz cut off! Keep in mind that my daughter couldn't eat for almost 5 days, and she ended up losing close to half a pound, and that she wasn't just born premature --- she was born premature AND sick with septicemia --- so sick that all the optimistic survival statisctics out there for preemies didn't apply to her.
Some people feel that prematurity doesn't warrant a disability claim, but let me break it down for you ---
At 23 weeks gestation I was hospitalized with bleeding and preterm contractions and was immediately placed on strict bed rest at home for the duration of my pregnancy which qualified me for disability for an estimated 17 weeks until my due date.
At 27 weeks my water broke, and I was then placed on hospital bed rest until my daughter was born, which by the doctors accounts could happen any minute, or still be months away. I made it 2 more weeks. I delieverd Brontë at 29 weeks via c section.
This is how it would have broken down --- had my body not deteriorated any further, and I was able to stay pregnant to term :
17 weeks of disability prior to delivery
8 weeks disability for c-section recovery
6 weeks state paid family leave
That's what by all standards I should have been paid.
Instead my even further deteriorated body and premature baby who was being kept a live by life support were awarded more medical bills and less disability - personally receiving disability for only 5 weeks out of the estimated 17, and my daughter [because of a fluke 2 ounces of water weight] hasn't received a penny, when her estimate was $768/month for her first year.
So, as it turns out, we would have received more aid from the state from being LESS disabled! How's that for a broken system?!
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
{slump}
I haven't wanted to write in the last week or so --- actually, that's not true --- there have been almost too many things I've wanted to write about --- too many things that have been weighing down my heart and stirring my soul --- I've made attempts to start writing at least 2 or 3 times this week, but I can't seem to bring pen to paper finger to keystroke.
Each time I have attempted to write, my thoughts are interrupted with other thoughts, other heartaches --- ferocity of obvious injustice --- personal loss --- empathetic pain for those I know and those I only know of --- tears for both specific and abstract brokenness.
Lord, teach me --- why have you given me this burdened heart?? Focus these wild emotions and refine them to reflect your heart --- Give me words for the broken, the strength to stand for those who can't do so themselves, and a voice that will speak Your truth into the void of lies this world believes.
Each time I have attempted to write, my thoughts are interrupted with other thoughts, other heartaches --- ferocity of obvious injustice --- personal loss --- empathetic pain for those I know and those I only know of --- tears for both specific and abstract brokenness.
Lord, teach me --- why have you given me this burdened heart?? Focus these wild emotions and refine them to reflect your heart --- Give me words for the broken, the strength to stand for those who can't do so themselves, and a voice that will speak Your truth into the void of lies this world believes.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
{Wordless} {Luv me some Mr.a-z}
I'm a long time fan of Jason Mraz, and I'm loving this song right now --- can't wait for his next album.
{You may want to scroll down and to the right to pause my blog playlist}
{You may want to scroll down and to the right to pause my blog playlist}
Saturday, March 10, 2012
{Underestimated:} {Fiction}
Personally, I've always found there was something special about fiction --- So much so, that I named my daughter after 19th century female novelist, Charlotte Brontë --- Some may say, I enjoy fiction even to a fault. To quote my oldest brother Troy, {who has a particularly comical beef with how much I --- and most every other woman --- hopped on the Twilight Train}, "Emily, when are you ever going to read a REAL book". LOL
Sure --- true stories, life application, self-help, books on politics, religion, history, science, and other non-fiction works seem to have the OBVIOUS literary upper-hand, but I came across an article recently that serves as a great explanation for my previously unexplainable draw to fictional stories and characters.
In a way, I would argue that fictional stories are many times more real and more truthful than some "true stories" --- Think about it --- Biographies, as well as autobiographies, are written as true stories of someone's life, but undoubtedly, they are written in a way to enhance, by inclusion or exclusion, what will most surely support the writer's personal agenda of how they would like the subject to be viewed --- In other words, "History is written by those who have hanged heroes".
The article I read specifically brought to light the importance of not only reading to our children, but reading fiction to our children as a way to help them learn empathy, "Which in turn helps our children develop a heart of compassion for a broken world".
Fiction, although "not true" in the sense of "actual events", is based off of the truth of "what could be", and the plausibly real, raw, and reactive, human emotion that proves to be the momentum that propels characters from point to point throughout a story. There is a sense of truth in characters interactions with each other and in response to circumstances, that is relatable to the majority of people as a whole.
Fiction allows what reality usually doesn't --- the ability to see past ourselves and through the eyes of another, taking on their burdens, feeling their loss, their elation, their sacrifice, their hope, and their love. Fiction let's us exercise empathy, a practice that can then be translated into our non-fiction reality.
What I'm not saying:
I'm not saying that truth is relative.
I am a firm believer that there is absolute truth. I believe that we are to "love our God with all our minds", and so challenge our minds with continuous, fact based study, but many times people fall to one extreme or another --- either we're all about the touchy feely emotional stuff, or we're too scientific and frank about what should shake us to the core.
What I am saying:
We serve a God who is full of compassion, and if we want our children to grow to have the heart of God, we need to excercise empathy as a spiritual discipline. Jesus himself used parables (fictional stories) to teach, and if the Messiah thought so highly of fiction, why shouldn't we?
Sure --- true stories, life application, self-help, books on politics, religion, history, science, and other non-fiction works seem to have the OBVIOUS literary upper-hand, but I came across an article recently that serves as a great explanation for my previously unexplainable draw to fictional stories and characters.
In a way, I would argue that fictional stories are many times more real and more truthful than some "true stories" --- Think about it --- Biographies, as well as autobiographies, are written as true stories of someone's life, but undoubtedly, they are written in a way to enhance, by inclusion or exclusion, what will most surely support the writer's personal agenda of how they would like the subject to be viewed --- In other words, "History is written by those who have hanged heroes".
The article I read specifically brought to light the importance of not only reading to our children, but reading fiction to our children as a way to help them learn empathy, "Which in turn helps our children develop a heart of compassion for a broken world".
Fiction, although "not true" in the sense of "actual events", is based off of the truth of "what could be", and the plausibly real, raw, and reactive, human emotion that proves to be the momentum that propels characters from point to point throughout a story. There is a sense of truth in characters interactions with each other and in response to circumstances, that is relatable to the majority of people as a whole.
Fiction allows what reality usually doesn't --- the ability to see past ourselves and through the eyes of another, taking on their burdens, feeling their loss, their elation, their sacrifice, their hope, and their love. Fiction let's us exercise empathy, a practice that can then be translated into our non-fiction reality.
What I'm not saying:
I'm not saying that truth is relative.
I am a firm believer that there is absolute truth. I believe that we are to "love our God with all our minds", and so challenge our minds with continuous, fact based study, but many times people fall to one extreme or another --- either we're all about the touchy feely emotional stuff, or we're too scientific and frank about what should shake us to the core.
What I am saying:
We serve a God who is full of compassion, and if we want our children to grow to have the heart of God, we need to excercise empathy as a spiritual discipline. Jesus himself used parables (fictional stories) to teach, and if the Messiah thought so highly of fiction, why shouldn't we?
Thursday, March 8, 2012
{Welcome 2the World} {Jaden Rose}
At 6:08 this morning my brother and sister in laws met their daughter ---
--- Jaden Rose ---
What a treasure you are! Your Uncle Nick and I can't wait to meet you, and we hope you always know the depth of love that supports and surrounds you!
Love,
Your Aunty Emily xoxo
P.S. Your mommy and daddy are about as rad as it gets!
--- Jaden Rose ---
What a treasure you are! Your Uncle Nick and I can't wait to meet you, and we hope you always know the depth of love that supports and surrounds you!
Love,
Your Aunty Emily xoxo
P.S. Your mommy and daddy are about as rad as it gets!
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
{Loving by Example}
I have realized over time, that the hardest person to love and to accept is many times the girl in the mirror. Not that I'm entirely self deprecating, but I have, as contradictory as it might sound, been self critical to the point of narcissism. I have spent an exorbitant amount of time picking on myself --- Those few extra pounds, my less than perfect complexion, my body shape, the assymetical lines of my face etc.--- you stare long enough, and everything starts looking weird.
In the last 6 months my body has taken a beating --- pregnancy and two major abdominal surgeries since August have left my body in visible shambles, and like I already said, prior to this I already had a problem with self image, and so, as you can imagine, it can go into over-drive if I don't purposefully keep it in check.
Nick is and always has been a spring of encouragement. He tells me that he wishes I could see me the way that he sees me --- and sometimes I think I do --- until that thought is interrupted by the sight of my reflection. I've cried to Nick on more occassions than I care to admit these past 6 months that I feel like a crazed butcher has gotten a hold of me.
My keloid scar from when I was pregnant didn't even have a chance to heal nicely due to the fact I was gaining about an inch around my belly every week during that time, and though my c-section scar has healed nicer in comparison, it's still about a 6 inch slash through my abdomen, and an ever constant reminder of our honestly terrifying birthing story.
The day Brontë came into this world was the most monumental day of our lives, but nothing about it was anything short of terrifying --- I wasn't supposed to have a tumor. I wasn't supposed to need surgery half way through my pregnancy. My water was not supposed to break at 27 weeks. I wasn't supposed to contract an infection. I wasn't supposed to get Brontë sick. She wasn't supposed to come so early. She wasn't supposed to be breech. I wasn't supposed to have a c-section. My body WAS supposed to hold up, instead of crapping out. I'm her mom, and I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO PROTECT HER --- and those heinous scars are the permanent reminders that I couldn't.
But God...
He always knew the plan. He always knew what was SUPPOSED to happen, even though I didn't. He always knew that He would be the one to get us through, and these ugly scars are the beautiful reminders of his provision ---
--- and I choose to love them.
I choose to stop being so self-critical. As her mom, I must lead by example. She is always watching me --- learning behavioral cues --- and before long, she will start to imitate me. I will not teach her to be self deprecating. She will never hear me say that "I'm fat" or "I'm ugly". I will teach her that we are made in the Imago Dei --- the image of God --- We are HIS workmanship -- and OUR reflections are not our own --- they are HIS, and they are lovely. I will choose to love --- by example --- my body, and teach her the perfection of imperfection, the artistry of asymmetry, and the beauty of our scars.
In the last 6 months my body has taken a beating --- pregnancy and two major abdominal surgeries since August have left my body in visible shambles, and like I already said, prior to this I already had a problem with self image, and so, as you can imagine, it can go into over-drive if I don't purposefully keep it in check.
Nick is and always has been a spring of encouragement. He tells me that he wishes I could see me the way that he sees me --- and sometimes I think I do --- until that thought is interrupted by the sight of my reflection. I've cried to Nick on more occassions than I care to admit these past 6 months that I feel like a crazed butcher has gotten a hold of me.
My keloid scar from when I was pregnant didn't even have a chance to heal nicely due to the fact I was gaining about an inch around my belly every week during that time, and though my c-section scar has healed nicer in comparison, it's still about a 6 inch slash through my abdomen, and an ever constant reminder of our honestly terrifying birthing story.
The day Brontë came into this world was the most monumental day of our lives, but nothing about it was anything short of terrifying --- I wasn't supposed to have a tumor. I wasn't supposed to need surgery half way through my pregnancy. My water was not supposed to break at 27 weeks. I wasn't supposed to contract an infection. I wasn't supposed to get Brontë sick. She wasn't supposed to come so early. She wasn't supposed to be breech. I wasn't supposed to have a c-section. My body WAS supposed to hold up, instead of crapping out. I'm her mom, and I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO PROTECT HER --- and those heinous scars are the permanent reminders that I couldn't.
But God...
He always knew the plan. He always knew what was SUPPOSED to happen, even though I didn't. He always knew that He would be the one to get us through, and these ugly scars are the beautiful reminders of his provision ---
--- and I choose to love them.
I choose to stop being so self-critical. As her mom, I must lead by example. She is always watching me --- learning behavioral cues --- and before long, she will start to imitate me. I will not teach her to be self deprecating. She will never hear me say that "I'm fat" or "I'm ugly". I will teach her that we are made in the Imago Dei --- the image of God --- We are HIS workmanship -- and OUR reflections are not our own --- they are HIS, and they are lovely. I will choose to love --- by example --- my body, and teach her the perfection of imperfection, the artistry of asymmetry, and the beauty of our scars.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
{Messy Mondays} {Month Re-Cap}
It's been a month since I started Messy Mondays in hopes of making over the various messes in my life, so this week, I thought I'd just let ya in on a little then and now re-cap.
I am proud to announce that I have, indeed, written and sent out the majority of the thank-you's that I mentioned last week --- {a small feat for some --- a HUGE accomplishment for me}--- and BONUS! I did end up create a big girl address book with the addresses I had to gather for them. So, hopefully next time we need to send things out it won't be such a circus to get it done.
Also, in regards to {Messy Monday} {Fashion Trends} I am NOT brushing my eyebrows up to be "power brows", but I am getting away with a pretty nude face these days using too-faced BB cream and little to nothing else --- the knotted mohawk has not made a reappearance, but a few twisted/braided, easy/messy up-do's have been fun/functional in keeping my hair out of my/Brontë's face {Holy slashes Batman!}
As far as our move and the de-cluttering are concerned --- it has taken quite a bit longer than planned --- it was honestly not until this weekend that I actually felt moved in, and almost immediately realized that I still have some major de-cluttering to take care of --- specifically shoes --- how did I accumulate so many pairs that I don't wear?
In general, I have definitely made attempts at being more organized, but not all of my attempts have been successful --- but some have been --- and that's the point. I didn't expect to have solved all my messes in 30 days --- success is gonna take time, error, and practice --- and for that, I'll keep ya posted.
I am proud to announce that I have, indeed, written and sent out the majority of the thank-you's that I mentioned last week --- {a small feat for some --- a HUGE accomplishment for me}--- and BONUS! I did end up create a big girl address book with the addresses I had to gather for them. So, hopefully next time we need to send things out it won't be such a circus to get it done.
Also, in regards to {Messy Monday} {Fashion Trends} I am NOT brushing my eyebrows up to be "power brows", but I am getting away with a pretty nude face these days using too-faced BB cream and little to nothing else --- the knotted mohawk has not made a reappearance, but a few twisted/braided, easy/messy up-do's have been fun/functional in keeping my hair out of my/Brontë's face {Holy slashes Batman!}
As far as our move and the de-cluttering are concerned --- it has taken quite a bit longer than planned --- it was honestly not until this weekend that I actually felt moved in, and almost immediately realized that I still have some major de-cluttering to take care of --- specifically shoes --- how did I accumulate so many pairs that I don't wear?
In general, I have definitely made attempts at being more organized, but not all of my attempts have been successful --- but some have been --- and that's the point. I didn't expect to have solved all my messes in 30 days --- success is gonna take time, error, and practice --- and for that, I'll keep ya posted.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
{Lessons from the Italian Stallion}
So...
I've been on a Rocky Balboa kick the last couple weeks {something that, no doubt, my husband loves about me}. I don't want to go so far as to call Rocky a philosopher, but he has some pretty inspiring quotes regarding friendship, marriage, life, and parenting. Most of what I appreciate about his quotes is the simplistic authenticity of his words, and even more so the fact that he says them.
Currently, I'm watching Rocky IV --- You know, the one where he fights the colossal Drago in the USSR after he killed his buddy Apollo Creed --- there is so much that I enjoy about this movie --- So without trying to sound too nerdy --- I love the video montage, the sweet training sessions, and the rockin' soundtrack, but one of my absolute favorite things about this movie is a quote that by all measures isn't very memorable --- but it is to me.
Before the whole story really unfolds there's a scene with Rocky and Rocky Jr. where Rocky is washing their car, and Rocky Jr. is dancing with their Robot {haha} and pestering his dad about wanting to learn how to fight. Rocky's answer was pretty simple ---
"I fight so you don't have to fight..."
He goes on to explain something about wanting his son to use his head for something more than a punching bag {yada yada yada} and they have a cute little LOL moment, but the heart of it was such a simple, honest, and sacrificial truth --- "I fight so you don't have to fight".
Isn't that the kind of mindset we should have as parents? As husbands and wives? Shouldn't we fight so that those we love hopefully won't have to? Shouldn't we share in the burdens of our loved ones and be joyful for the load, living in such a way to teach it to our children so that when their grown they too will fight in someone's stead? To fight for someone they love? To fight for someone who can't fight for themselves? To share in the burdens of others and to find joy in bearing that load?
I know this is a bit on the heavy side for an "Italian Stallion" related post, but it's what I happen to be thinking about right now. So, I'll keep this short, and just leave you with a few questions that I'm also asking myself.
Who have you fought for? --- Anybody?
Whose place have you taken in the ring so they wouldn't have to? --- Anyone?
What have you done for love? --- Anything?
What is the legacy you're leaving for those you love?
I've been on a Rocky Balboa kick the last couple weeks {something that, no doubt, my husband loves about me}. I don't want to go so far as to call Rocky a philosopher, but he has some pretty inspiring quotes regarding friendship, marriage, life, and parenting. Most of what I appreciate about his quotes is the simplistic authenticity of his words, and even more so the fact that he says them.
Currently, I'm watching Rocky IV --- You know, the one where he fights the colossal Drago in the USSR after he killed his buddy Apollo Creed --- there is so much that I enjoy about this movie --- So without trying to sound too nerdy --- I love the video montage, the sweet training sessions, and the rockin' soundtrack, but one of my absolute favorite things about this movie is a quote that by all measures isn't very memorable --- but it is to me.
Before the whole story really unfolds there's a scene with Rocky and Rocky Jr. where Rocky is washing their car, and Rocky Jr. is dancing with their Robot {haha} and pestering his dad about wanting to learn how to fight. Rocky's answer was pretty simple ---
"I fight so you don't have to fight..."
He goes on to explain something about wanting his son to use his head for something more than a punching bag {yada yada yada} and they have a cute little LOL moment, but the heart of it was such a simple, honest, and sacrificial truth --- "I fight so you don't have to fight".
Isn't that the kind of mindset we should have as parents? As husbands and wives? Shouldn't we fight so that those we love hopefully won't have to? Shouldn't we share in the burdens of our loved ones and be joyful for the load, living in such a way to teach it to our children so that when their grown they too will fight in someone's stead? To fight for someone they love? To fight for someone who can't fight for themselves? To share in the burdens of others and to find joy in bearing that load?
I know this is a bit on the heavy side for an "Italian Stallion" related post, but it's what I happen to be thinking about right now. So, I'll keep this short, and just leave you with a few questions that I'm also asking myself.
Who have you fought for? --- Anybody?
Whose place have you taken in the ring so they wouldn't have to? --- Anyone?
What have you done for love? --- Anything?
What is the legacy you're leaving for those you love?
{Batting a Thousand}
So, while we were sleeping...
Somebody must have been awake, because I woke up this morning to find that The Kaleidoscope Ballet reached it's first somewhat notable mile marker --- 1,000 pageviews its first month! Woot Woot!
Thanks for reading! XOXO
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