coming out of the shell...

That coloquialism has all sorts of implications. Most often people use it to describe someone becoming more outgoing. I had an experience in cooking school where one of my classmates (who described himself as an Italian stallion :s) was shocked at how "reserved" I was and would really like to see me "come out of my shell" Translation: 'how can you still be a virgin? Just go and have sex!'

Well THAT wasn't about to happen, so since then this saying has had a negative conotation. If I'm able to seperate myself from that experience and look at the original intent then it can have a positive spin.

I am very shy. I was painfully so as a child and it hindered my growing up, especially by the time I got to highschool I had a hard time making good friends or recognizing when someone wasn't a friend. Well, eventually I started to get over that. I don't know whether it was just growing up or the need to be connected but, about 14 years ago I really started to "come out of my shell". I made a good group of friends, many of whom I am still connected to in some way. As I look back on the last 14 years though I notice that I'm just halfway out. It's like my leg and half my arm are still inside the shell. I'm holding on ready to scurry back in at a moments notice. This was a surprise to me, I thought I'd ditched the shell aroud 7 years ago! Around four years ago though, a significant event caused me to get so far back into my shell that just my fingers were sticking out, just far enough so I could grab hold of something.

I've been able to slowly come back out more and more since then and just now am starting to feel like I could ditch the shell for good. I've used it as an excuse for so long, it was a safety net, but it turns out it has hindered me more than helped me. Why try anything that's daring to you when you've got your safe place too cozy to let go of? And how are you able to do what you want to do with the freedom you want to do it with when you're still attached to this cumbersome shell? Just imagine that wave coming up could take you to the place that you've always dreamed about. If you stay in your shell you'll just sink to the bottom of the ocean floor.

I think I'd rather ride the wave... symbolizing that this is God's call and I'm trusting in his direction. I know I'll land in a safe place and it'll be alot less challenging and painful if I'm not dragging around that silly shell.

Bye bye shell, I'm to old for you now..

so long May Camp...

It's the May long weekend, the youth and Brad are in West Kelowna at Green Bay Bible Camp for the May camp retreat... and I'm not there. (sigh) This is the seventh May Camp. Brad and his collegue Tim started May Camp back in 2005. I missed the fourth Camp for a good reason otherwise I made every effort to be there for all the other years. I never had any role while I was there and if I may vent here a moment... yes I'm married to a youth pastor but I'm not "involved" in the youth ministry. I know this bothers some people, although they've never voiced it directly to me. I was not involved in the youth ministry before Brad and I met so the notion that I should become a leader simply because I'm now married to him is ludicrous to me. What if I spend all my time as a leader in the youth and I'm not able to serve in an area that I'm actually gifted or feel God calling me too? Yes I went to May Camp, and yes I've gone to different events but that is purely as support for Brad and to just have an unpressured opportunity to get to know the youth individually and on an informal basis. I don't think it's fair to spouses of pastors or ministry directors to expect the same ministry involvement from them. Suppose a Doctors wife was expected to enter into medicinal practice, or a lawyers husband was expected to clerck for his wife? Unheard of!

So... I went to camp simply to be there for my husband, I often felt useless and in the way but he assured me that it was important to him that I be there. I kept going even after we had Carlon and brought Carlon along. It was...... manageable.... but exhausting. Carlon doesn't sleep well when he's away from home. Well this year add Noah and it seemed utterly impossible. I was still prepared to go until Thursday as I began to visualize the drive up, me and the two boys as Brad would be in a separate car, a five hour drive to Kelowna. Setting up our accomodations at the camp -challenging- dealing with an 11 week old that still isn't on a solid schedule and a 2 1/2 year old that is not doing a very good job of listening to mommy these days. Add to that the fact that Brad is working while he's there... he is not able to be daddy and husband. It took some arguing in my head but I finally came to my senses and realized that doing it by myself at home would be alot easier than doing it by myself at camp :( I'm not happy about it, in fact, even as I type this I'm wishing I was there. I just got off the phone with Brad and now am dreading going to bed even though I'm exhausted.

As much as it pains me to say... I think I have to say good bye to May Camp. Next year I will still have young children and it will still be a challenge to take them, the year after as well (sigh)

no regrets... just a really tired mommy

This has been one of those days... well the last couple days have been one of those days (it all seems to blend together) where I have been longing for my exotic single life. And to be honest my single life was never very exotic at all. In comparison to the life I live now though... boy was it somethin'.

This coming Sunday I will have been a mommy for 4 years. Interestingly enough this Sunday is Mother's Day. I don't care much for hallmark holidays, valentine's day, mother's/father's day, I've always said "if you need a special day of the year to appreciate somebody then you've got bigger problems on your hands". Imagine being a Christian and only celebrating Jesus birth on December 25th or his death and resurrection on good Friday and easter Sunday.

This year for more reason than that though I wish to not celebrate Mother's day... I wish to not be a mom at all. Four years ago this Sunday we lost our sweet and perfect Liam at 20 weeks gestation. He was beautiful in every way and there wasn't a speck wrong with him. We have two beautiful boys since then and deep down to the depths of my soul I love being their mommy. They have, however, both been a challenge these last few days. One because he's two and a half and is supposed to challenge me and the other because he's 9 weeks old and what else is a newborn but challenging? Even at the best of times I'm worn thin by exhaustion and still trying to get myself back to feeling normal (what is that after all?)

So here I am... almost 6 years married and 4 years a mom... and I'd like a break... an alternate universe to visit maybe... or just half an hour where I'm not asleep and I can forget that I actually have kids. Then I wonder, did my mom ever feel this way? If she did she has never told me. My mom is a hero of mine. She married my dad and he wasn't a christian, so for the first few years of mine and my sister's lives every Sunday she got us up and dressed for church all by herself. My dad never stood in her way but he never helped her either. My mom made sure we didn't miss anything important that had to do with our Saviour. She introduced us to Him, she taught us about Him. She made sure we knew that Christmas was about Jesus' birth not Santa and his elves, and that Good Friday was about Christ's death and Easter Sunday not about bunnies and eggs but was about His resurrection and what that means to us. My mom had a benign brain tumour when I was 3 and a benign lung tumour when I was 8. Through it all she praised the Lord and never once did I hear her say she wanted to run away from it all.

So here I am now... on the verge of losing my marbles all because I'm tired and my kids won't do what I want them to do.

How often does God lose his marbles because His kids don't do what he wants them to do? I think I forget that these times are fleeting, that I won't be tired forever, one day I will feel normal again and my boys won't be challenging forever (and realistically they aren't always challenging).

Big picture? Sure my single life was.... "exotic" but it was also empty. There was a time when I was single and all I wanted was to be a wife and a mom. This still holds true. I love my children and I'm crazy about my husband. So how do I reconcile all this?

Just give me a few more minutes sleep......

CHOO CHOOOO!!!! chug chug chug chuga

Carlon loves trains, and cars... anything with wheels or that rolls. He is a boy after all! Brad and I bought him a train table. It's probably too big for our space and in the grand scheme of this probably uneccesary in terms of need but he's our little boy and he loves trains and we love him and right now if there's anything I can do to help him develop his imagination (and keep him distracted while I take care of Noah) I am all over it. Brad had the table half set up by the time Carlon went to bed so when he woke in the morning it was all completely arranged I was asleep so I didn't see his reaction. Brad said it was like Christmas.

how time flies...

...I can literally see wings on all the clocks.

It has really been 3 months since my last post and a world of change has happened. Ups and downs, ins and a really big "out".

I went a full 41 weeks waiting to have our new bundle. On March 2nd Noah Bradley Reid was forced out by induction and made his entrance within 6 hours... not too shabby. He tipped the scales at 10lbs 6oz and hasn't stopped growing. 5 days after delivery (4 days after being home) back to the hospital we went as I had incured an infection... one that would have killed me had we not had such medical advances as iv and antibiotics... 5 days in hospital many tears shed as I was extremely homesick and missed Carlon and Brad and worried about everybody but myself.

7 weeks later and here we are. Noah is 8 weeks old and looks like he's 4 months. Carlon is slowly adjusting to his little brother and we are all starting to get more sleep.

So on our life goes, Brad's schedule is rip-roarin', Carlon is full of new vocab almost every day, Noah is doing what babies do and I'm just trying to keep up.

getting "ready"

Well, it's coming down to the end of it... the pregnancy that is. It seems like it's been an eternity, partly because I'm so impatient but, also because I was worried that I would have the same pregnancy experience as with Carlon and that was something I never want to relive. Almost as soon as we learned we were pregnant I wanted it to be done and to be able to cuddle this little one. Although I was anxious about the change it would bring to our little brood I was immediately in love and wanted to see it's face and snuggle it close. 40 weeks is a long time to wait and I haven't even got that far yet. I've often wondered why God chose 40 weeks thinking it is far too long but quickly realized that if God chose 30 weeks I'd still think it was too long.

Only 36 weeks and 4 days (As of Sunday) and with every second that passes I am entering into unchartered territory for me as I have never been pregnant this long. I think once 37 weeks hits I'll be jumping up and down and doing every other old wives tale I can think of to get this kiddo out into the world. Last Friday was a looong day as Brad and I were at the hospital for a procedure for myself related to the pregnancy. It took three times longer than expected and started later in the day than we were prepared for. Poor Carlon was up till 10pm at his auntie and uncle's. He wan't complaining when we got there but my poor sister, I'm sure, was exhausted. It is such a blessing to have family so willing to help when needed it took such a load of worry off our minds knowing Carlon was being well cared for during this time.

We have had several ultrasounds during this pregnancy, as with Carlon, and the baby keeps trucking along and I have done far better than last time. I thank you all deeply for your prayers and concerns. It has touched Brad and me so to know that our family is loved this way.

Bring on February!!

I'm sure anyone who knows me is sick of hearing it but I can't wait until February. I'm 32 weeks today and as far along as that is it still feels like I have an eternity to go before this kid will arrive.

Christmas glories and craziness has come and gone. It's not quite new years but I'm ready to start packing the decorations away and get things organized for the little one's arrival. Washing the teeny clothes, setting up the crib and packing my hospital bag and Carlon's overnight bag should he need one for the big day.

Brad has been on holidays for the last week and a half and it has been so wonderful to have him home every day especially after the pressure of a full time Masters semester and a full time ministry. Next week, when he's back to regularly scheduled programming, is gonna suck big time. I love spending time with my hubby and Carlon loves seeing daddy all day every day.

It has been a wonderful Christmas, Brad home, time with family and a relaxing Christmas week, too many goodies (food and presents) but I ain't complainin'. This is the last chance I'll have to enjoy some rest for a while, but I'm ready for baby though (emotionally) soooo ready for baby. If only God had made human gestation 32 weeks instead of 40.