Though I don't pretend to be good at it, writing is still something that I thoroughly enjoy. As much as I hate to admit it, I am competitive. I am. And I hate competition. Unless it is with myself. Which I suppose is why I like writing. Not only is it cathartic, but also it's a self-imposed challenge and a puzzle; I get to figure out how to say what I want to say in a certain way that I want to say it, then put all those sayings together in such a way that is somewhat coherent and entertaining and intriguing. (I do like to entertain.)
But now for quite some time I have been avoiding writing in every way, shape, and form ... Blogging, journaling, poetry, songs, thank you notes, ... yes. Thank you notes. Contrary to some popular beliefs, I am easily overwhelmed with gratitude, and I love to write thank you's to people to try to express that thankfulness. It means a lot to me and hopefully to them too. But it's as though after having my two little squirrels I hit a wall. I wanted to blog about the ins and outs of my everyday life as a new stay at home mom. I wanted to write notes of thanks. I wanted to gush about the sweet sounds and smelly poops of little girls, the joy and pain of breastfeeding, the task of keeping my marriage, kids, and self healthy. I mean really, the list goes on. First tears. First smiles. First shots ...
So, last night while the girls slept and Steve and I enjoyed some much needed R&R at our firepit, I shared my heart with him about how much I've missed and even needed to write. In our conversation he helped me realize that the wall that I smacked into face first was the fear of man. I stopped writing because I over analyzed what I would say, who would read it, what they would think of me, what they would say to their friends about me. I was scared people would think of me as "THAT mom" who has to post everything her kids do because she thinks it's SO GREAT but really no one else really cares to know about. (YOU KNOW you know THAT mom ...) I wanted to write about how hard, and how easy, it is raising twins, but I didn't want to hear the feed back of people passive-aggressively "should-ing" on me and all their opinions. Quite frankly those first three weeks after having the girls I was too drained from taking care of my new little family to deal with people. We needed alone time. We needed to figure out how to function, granted we wouldn't have apart from the meals that our sweet friends very graciously delivered to us!!! But it really caught me off guard how affected by the fear of man I had become. And Steve reminded me very clearly that I am sinning by living in the fear of man and told me that I needed to blog before today was over. So this is it.
Like I said, I do have a competitive spirit, and I love to learn new things, educate myself, and succeed. But more than anything, and now more than ever, this is one thing that I have read about, prayed up, and studied up for (and will continue to do so for the rest of my life): being a mom. I want desperately to succeed in raising up children who are madly in love with Jesus. And since I believe that everything in life is spiritual, that affects how I approach, raise, discipline, and yes SCHEDULE my kiddos and their little lives right now. They need consistency. And God knows that by the way He created me, for my sanity, I need consistency. You, whoever you are out there reading this, may not. But I do. (Now, moms, I am neither a BabyWise nazi nor a strictly baby-led feeding mom.) Steve and I attempt consistency to help them feel stable, learn night and day, sleep well so WE can sleep well, etc... but honestly, every day is a new day. It has its very own unique challenges. And I see now more than ever that all I can do is take this thing a day at a time and do whatever the heck works to make it through that day! And all of it is to the glory of God and by His sustaining grace and new mercies. So, keep your eyes peeled for more to be shared of what God is doing with this crazy momma!
I love my God. I love my husband. And I love my girls.