Stay With It

I said: what about my eyes?

God said: Keep them on the road.

I said: what about my passion?

God said: Keep it burning.

I said: what about my heart?

God said: Tell me what you hold inside it.

I said: pain and sorrow?

He said: ...stay with it.

The wound is the place where the Light enters you.

~ Rumi

2016 has been a hell of a year for our family. And not just for us, but also for our community, our city, and our country. I know a lot of people who have been through a lot of pain this year. I've watched friends writhe in the pain of pervasive betrayal, others grapple with the new reality of life-altering health conditions, and others try to somehow continue living after the loss of a beloved parent or infant child. I've seen good men brought to their knees by cutting words, friends betrayed by those supposed to protect them, and others give themselves over to the hands of surgeons with a prayer for healing and new life. I've seen our city and our country divided again and again over race, religion, and politics.

What are we supposed to do with all of this? How am I supposed to walk through all this pain with my children, my neighbors, with myself? The only answer I have for this is:  SHOW UP. Show up to the hurting people (spoiler alert: this is everyone). Show up to hear their pain and to just sit in it with them. No fixing, only listening. Show up to your neighbor's pain, to your city's pain, to the world's pain, and to your own pain too. Sit with it and listen to it. Actually feel it with them. Maybe it will move you. Maybe it will light up a broken place in your heart that is also a broken place in God's heart. Then maybe S/He will tell you to move into that pain and find a way to help heal it. But, only after the listening and the hearing and the crying and the wine and the massaging each other's shoulders has happened. A lot.

I can't bury my head in the sand and try to avoid it all. And I don't want to. I want to keep my eyes on the road, keep my passion burning, keep my heart open, and stay with the pain and sorrow. You can't heal a wound by saying it isn't there.

Stay with it. The wound is the place where the Light gets in.

Haiku 4

Brisk, clean winter air
Shocks my breath, confronts my skin
Revives my senses.

Haiku 3

Dance, art, beauty, friends;

Much needed inspiration

To this weary soul.

Haiku 2

Cold, wet winter days,

Warmed by soft baby kisses

Makes dark days brighter.

Haiku 1

I wish to write more.

Many words yet little time,

I will write haikus.

Boat Song

Several years back, while pregnant with Baby #1, I had the privilege of hearing JJ Heller sing for the first time. Her voice is like candy. Or butter. Or sweet candy butter. Maybe taffy. Anyhow, it is smooth and sweet and just makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. She sang a song that was going to be on an upcoming lullaby album - the Boat Song. I only heard it once, but it stuck with me. I made a mental note to buy that album when it came out, and I did. I Dream of You has been our go-to album to rock Baby #2 to. It is perfect: calm, sweet, truthful, and hopeful. It quiets the baby's heart and also ours.

I listen to Boat Song most often, and my oldest now requests me to sing it at all times of day and night. It's just that kind of song that you can't hear enough.

Tonight I watched the official video that goes with it and I cried. It is a beautiful, sentimental placeholder of this season in our lives. I know you'll enjoy it too ...

If you were a boat, my darling
A boat, my darling
I'd be the wind at your back
If you were afraid, my darling
Afraid, my darling
I'd be the courage you lack

If you were a bird, then I'd be a tree
And you would come home, my darling, to me
If you were asleep, then I'd be a dream
Wherever you are, that's where my heart will be

Oh, do you know we belong together?
Oh, do you know my heart is yours?

If you were the ocean, I'd be the sand
If you were a song, I'd be the band
If you were the stars, then I'd be the moon
A light in the dark, my darling, for you

Oh, do you know we belong together?
Oh, do you know my heart is yours?

Oh, do you know we belong together?
Oh, do you know my heart is yours?
Oh, do you know we belong together?
Oh, do you know my heart is yours?

Decrapification: Perks

The decrapification is still going strong in the Huber household! The more I do it, the more I love it, and the more I want to do. Here are a few reasons I'm digging this so much:

Spending Less  
I declutter something every day. It's always on my mind. I'm constantly thinking about what space I can attack next or which areas I can scour through a second time. It's almost become a hobby. So, whenever I'm out shopping, I'm thinking through this new filter. Instead of thinking about what fun thing I could buy to make my life easier or cheer myself up, I now think harder about what I truly need versus what is just excess and will eventually become clutter. If it is on the list, if I have a place for it, if I know for sure I will use it, in the shopping cart it goes. If not, I hold off. (Ok..in an effort for full disclosure: I have an inborn weakness for lip gloss, so there may be a little excess there...) So not only am I saving money on what I'm not buying, but I've also sold a few things that I have gotten rid of, so I've scored us a couple dollars along the way too. A win/win!

Involving Kids
We've all done it. We've all popped our kids balloons while they were sleeping or thrown away something of theirs while they weren't looking in hopes that they'd forget about it. The likelihood is that I will always do this in some way. But, instead of throwing away the mounds of artwork my daughter brings home from preschool on my own, I've started including her in the process. She gets to pick one or two pictures to keep and display, and the rest get recycled. And when the dentist visits her school and gives everyone a new toothbrush? We follow our new "one in, one out" rule and throw away a toothbrush before breaking out the new one. My hope is for my kids to learn stuff-management along with me, both for my sake and for theirs. Ideally, as they grow they will gain some perspective about how to navigate a society dominated by consumerism.

Things Have Places 
Piles, and stacks, and bins, oh my! I have so much junk floating around that doesn't have a PLACE to live in my house. These things either need to be purged or they need to find a home. Some of the major offenders in my house are photos, papers, and kids art supplies. They just float from surface to surface without a place to land - and drive me crazy along the way. That basket full of old magazines that were thrown away? That basket is now the place where crayons, glitter glue, construction paper and the like get to live. Voila! They are easily accessible when we want them, and easily tossed back in when we're done. Simple and neat. Woah!

Using What I Already Have 
I am rediscovering things I had long forgotten. I've learned that I buy WAY too much smelly stuff. Namely, scented lotions. Yes, I have dry skin, and yes, I love the pampered feeling of moisturized, good smelling skin. But once I gathered it all in to one place from being scattered around, I saw exactly how much excess I had. Enough is enough! I tossed some that I were old or non-favorites and started (gasp!) USING others that I'd forgotten about. Now the trick is to not buy anymore until I've used up a bunch of what I already have. It may sound strange, but there is something liberating about letting myself actually RUN OUT of something before I buy more of it. I've done too much buying "just in case".

How about you? Anyone else going through 40 bags in 40 days with me? Here's to cleaning out, throwing away, and moving STUFF out to fit in more LIFE! Happy purging!

Decrapification: Bringing Order to the Chaos

During my pregnancy I got the "nesting" urge as many women do. We want to prepare our little nests for our impending new additions. For me this came in the form of trying to organize different areas of the house. I decluttered a few small areas, but focused most of my attention on perfecting the nursery. I accomplished what I wanted to: hitting the "reset" button on a perfectly clean and prepped baby's room for our second child. It was soft, delicate, welcoming, and well lit. (Lighting has turned out to be a key element of a good nursery for me: it needs a dimmer switch so I can have however much light I want in the wee hours, and it also needs a good window with natural light so I can see OUT of my four walls into the "real world.")

The nursery project awakened something in me. In order to get baby things back IN to that room, I had to go through what was already there and move some things OUT. I began wondering what other things I could move out of my house. After all, when I went through the stuff in that room, I was being deliberate about what stayed and what went. I got to be choosy and intentional about what exactly I allow to live in my home with me. I was empowered! Just by throwing things away!

Fast forward to today. We are in the season of Lent - a time leading up to the Easter holiday. I was browsing my Facebook feed one day and came across this post about one person's Lent practice. The author's habit is to purge 40 bags of STUFF from her home during the 40 days of Lent. The "40 Bags in 40 Days" title alone grabbed me. Before I'd even clicked the link to read her post I'd decided I wanted to jump on this.

We are about a third of the way through and I am L O V I N G it! It has awakened something in me - something that desperately needed waking. It is as if I can sense tingling in a part of my heart and mind that used to be asleep. I am slowly remembering what margin feels like. I am being reminded that though there is so much of life that is out of my control and influence, there are things I can do to push against that. 

I can bring order to the chaos.

I used to have a corner full of old magazines, now I have space. I used to have makeup and beauty products overflowing from my bathroom sink. Now I have a clear counter top and empty vanity drawers. And I haven't missed any of it for a hot second.

If you have ever had a baby or been close to someone who has, you know how chaotic that first adjustment period is. My family and I are in the process of rearranging the furniture of our lives to fit in another loud, beautiful, growing, cooing, needy, lovely human being. Much of this journey is chaotic. There are so many meaningful, significant things happening and yet so little of it is quantifiable. When my husband comes home and asks me how my day was, I stumble to answer. I did SO MUCH. I hardly had a moment to stop and breathe or think or pee or eat, but I don't know how to articulate it all. It all blurs together into a long, messy day. Every day. All the time. This is why I am finding so much significance in this purging project. Not only can I bring order to the chaos, but I can keep track of how many bags I've purged, what I've purged, and I can write about it. 

I plan to blog through this process - which I hope lasts me through Lent and beyond. It's not too late to join me if you're interested! Trust me, the time and energy you spend on it will be more than worth it.

Notes from The Fog

We welcomed this gorgeous girl into our family 7 weeks ago. The highs and lows of those weeks have been more exaggerated than anything I could have imagined before her birth. Anyone who has added an infant to their family knows that along with Bundle of Joy comes Mind Numbing Fog. So, here I sit at my computer, in the middle of full-on fog, trying to get some thoughts down. Why? Well, because this story's mine and I am trying to preserve it despite the epic fog.

My thoughts are jumbled, my head is pounding, and my back aches. My ears are weary from listening to the cries of a colicky newborn and the whines of a three year old asking, "But WHY?!" for the 127th time today. I love my Littles and would do anything in the world for them, but at this stage in the game my husband and I are weary to the bone. 

"The Baby Fog" is aptly named. All of my attention is on my baby right now and it will be for the next several months. Everything else is just ... foggy. My body and my mind are still very much trying to recover from pregnancy and birth, and my hormones have commandeered control of my brain. So, if you want to hold any kind of conversation with me, you need to hold me by the shoulders, make direct eye contact with me, and speak slowly. I'm not entirely exaggerating.

Even now I want to write more, and to make this post better or more it grammatically correct. But, alas, the baby awakes.

So for now, if you see me, be gracious. If you don't see me, reach out, because I may be drowning. 

Ok Callie Jane, Mama is on her way...

An Open Apology to Parents from My Pre-Kid Self

Today a beautiful thing happened in my life. It was something that made me feel excited, giddy, and just plain glad to be alive.

I went grocery shopping by myself.

Let me say that again:

I WENT GROCERY SHOPPING BY MYSELF!

As in, I was alone. As in, there was no toddler with me. As in, there was no one precariously grabbing glass jars off of shelves. There was no one asking me 500,000 questions while I'm just trying to get in, get what I need, and get out. No one was stripping off their socks and shoes and leaving them strewn about the store aisles. No one demanded a box of snacks or cookies and then screamed when I told them no. I got a latte before I started. I read the peanut butter labels and figured out the difference between "Natural" Jif and "Simply" Jif, and I actually got everything I needed on the first time through the store. I took my time shopping and still finished in less time than usual.

It was grocery shopping as it was meant to be: shopping for groceries. Nothing more, nothing less...and it was divine. And I am not a person who generally enjoys food shopping. The whole meal-planning, list-making, shopping, loading/unloading, putting-away, cooking thing usually makes me want to vomit. So for me to say that I enjoyed this shopping trip should really tell you something. 

Now, lest you read these words and think I am exaggerating, let me be very clear: I am in no way being sarcastic about how wonderful this experience was for me. This is where the apology comes in. You see, in my 30 years on this earth prior to having a child of my own, I secretly (and often unknowingly) judged parents who said things like this. Some part of me assumed these parents were exaggerating or embellishing to make a good story. I mean, who thinks grocery shopping is a vacation? It really can't be that hard to go to the store with your children, right? And if it is that hard, doesn't that probably mean that you're doing something wrong?

To my shame, I silently judged these poor parents and thought that there was no way their sentiments could be as valid as they proported. I was WRONG. Dead wrong. To whoever you were: I am sorry! It was out of sheer ignorance that I thought you were embellishing or playing the martyr. I know better now.

This is one of the beauties of parenting: it has made me so much less judgmental about other children and parents. In my pre-kid days I didn't realize just how much subconcious judging I did. On some level I thought parents should be able to control their children (HA!), that a child's disobedience was just poor parenting (HAAA!), and that somehow as an outsider I had a better perspective than the parent did and could probably offer them some good advice (BAAAAHAHAHAHA!).

I am not proud of those things and am so thankful for the pruning that is beginning in my heart to trim off some of those prideful thoughts. Do you need to plop your kid in front of the TV so you can get just a few precious moments of silence? More power to you. Is your kid 4 years old and not potty trained? It will happen - she'll do it when she's ready. Do you sometimes have to bribe your child to do simple tasks? Go for it. Do you sometimes placate your demanding child because you simply cannot take one more second of that peircing high pitched whine? You go, girl. No one - NO ONE - knows better what is best for the child than his/her parent or caretaker. And sometimes, what is best for the child is actually is what is best for the parent, or the older sibling, or the family as a whole. And unless you are this child's parent, you simply do not know all of the factors contributing to the 1 gazillion choices you must make for each child every single day. I'm so glad I know this now.

Being a parent is maturing me, broadening my horizons, showing me how to better love those around me, and causing me to just plain GROW UP. Some days I think I am raising my daughter, and then other days I realize that it is really she who is raising me. Thank you for showing me the way, Sweet Girl. I'm deeply grateful for this life-changing journey, this grand adventure, because I still have so much further to go.

What about you? How has your perspective changed since becoming a parent? Are there things you do now that you swore you'd never do?

My Life Lesson from Bill Clinton

Over the last several months I have been mildly obsessed with late night talk shows. Mainly Jimmy Kimmel, Jimmy Fallon, and David Letterman. I DVR them all and watch whichever I'm in the mood for. I can't explain it entirely, but some of it has to do with my love for TV (yep, I admit it), and some of it has to do with helping me cope with all the darkness in the world by bringing some levity to it. These guys are just down right funny and really, really talented.

A couple months back I was watching The Jimmy Kimmel Show as he had President Bill Clinton on as his guest. Whatever your opinion of him, the President taught me a profound life lesson that night. In the first few minutes of their interview, Jimmy asks the former President about his new vegan lifestyle and in particular which he misses more: cheese, or being POTUS. This was his response:

"Well, I liked being President more than I like cheese. Most days I don't miss it. I loved doing the job, but I think one of the most important things is that, 

when you're doing something you know you can't do forever, you have to organize your life so that you don't spend a minute if possible wishing you could do something you can't do anymore. " 

Next, after talking briefly about Filipino politician Manny Pacquiao, he brings up Magic Johnson and his transition to business after his sports career ended prematurely. 

"He never wasted a day wishing he could do what he couldn't do anymore."

Wow. Did you get that? He never wasted a single day wishing his life could be something that it's not. That statement hit me like a punch in the gut. If you read my post about being a stay at home mom, you know that my life stage and circumstances have been on my mind quite a bit lately; so, hearing his words in the context of those thoughts, I was profoundly impacted. Not infrequently an older parent says to me, "Enjoy every moment! It goes by so fast!" Or, "I would trade places with you if I could!" Or, "Enjoy it now, while they still like you!" You get the picture. In their opinion my life stage seems in some way preferable to theirs. And you know what? I believe them. I absolutely believe that it goes by quickly, that they would trade places with me if they could, and that there will be days in the future that my children will not like me. I believe you, Older Mom. I do. And I don't want to minimize your sentiments or invalidate your feelings.

But.

I want to live my current days in such a way that when my children are grown I do not wish my days away longing for "the good old days." I want to savor the way my two year old runs: clunky, elbows flailing about, completely unhindered by what anyone thinks of her. That is a sacred and beautiful thing. I want to take an obscene amount of photos so that we have a storehouse of memories to look back on. I want to juice these days for all they are worth for the very reason that I do believe they are special and will go by quickly.

I realize this is much easier said than done, but I want to do exactly what President Clinton said: organize my life now in such a way so that later when this stage is over, I don't spend a single day wishing I could do something I simply cannot do anymore. None of us know what the future holds and what circumstances we will find ourselves in, but when the time comes, please do not let me be Older Mom who says to Younger Mom, "Enjoy every moment!" Not because I don't want her to, but because; 1) quite frankly, not every moment is enjoyable (see one of my favorite mommy blog posts here that likens parenting to climbing Mount Everest. Is every moment of that enjoyable? No. I don't think so. But yes, it's worth the climb.) 2) I don't want to be of the mindset where I longingly look at her life and wish mine were something different than it is.

I am sure that this is true for many, if not all of us. Chances are we will out-live whatever it is we are doing right now. If a person can hold the most powerful office in the free world for 8 years and go on to say that most days he doesn't miss it, surely I can work on arranging my life so that one day I can say the same. I hope to be able say to a Younger Mom, "You know what? I loved the season of having young children. It wasn't always easy, but I loved all the time we had together and all the sweet memories we made. I wouldn't trade them for the world. And, I am content with where life has me right now."

Why I'm a Stay at Home Mom

​

"What do you do all day?" she asked me. 

In my stunned, swirling head, I searched for an answer, 

"I...um...well...I...um...you would be surprised how quickly the days fill up."

She realized the insensitivity of her question and back-pedaled a bit, but she had already tipped her hand. Even though she has a child the same age as mine, she wanted to know how someone could just sit at home all day with their kid. It was a judgment, and an unkind one at that. 

Fast forward a few weeks.

Her: "Your daughter is in half day preschool twice a week? That wouldn't really work for a working mom, but good for you! So what are you going to do with all that extra time?!"

Me:  (sheepishly) "I...um...well...I...um...like to have a breakfast or lunch date with a friend."

Her face said what her words did not: "Isn't that what you already do all the time anyway?"

I felt pressured. Like I somehow needed to explain myself. Like I was being looked down on. Like at the first sign of my child's independence I should immediately re-join the workforce. 

Now, I am still relatively new at this stay-at-home-mom gig. (The title of "stay-at-home-parent" is a terrible one, but it is widely accepted, so I will use it here and save that rant for another day.) I think I feel like anyone would two years into a new job: I have a pretty good idea of what I need to do and what works or doesn't work. But I also know that there is still a lot I need to learn. One of the things I had not encountered in my learning curve yet was that I may, at any moment, need to defend to someone why I do what I do because it is on some level inconceivable to them.

Humph.

There are so many reasons I choose to be a stay at home mom. Here are a few:

It's how I'm wired

Relationships are my highest value. I am a person who prefers a small number of deep relationships rather than a wide pool of acquaintances. If I had no other responsibilities or demands on my time, I would rather spend time with one of "my people" than do just about anything else in life. So, if I have the opportunity to invest in and interact with my own child, you can bet I'm going to do just that. Simply put, relationships are my bottom line. My personality type will do just about anything to be sure our values are not compromised, and we constantly re-evaluate whether our life reflects those values (also, this is exhausting.) So, for me personally, spending 95% of my time with my family just makes sense. 

I'll never regret spending time with my child

I know we should never say never. But, I can't conceive of a scenario in which I would look back on my life and say that I wish I'd spent less time with my child(ren). Particularly during the very early years. I also have never met anyone with grown children who has this regret. That speaks volumes to me. 

Of course there are days that I am pulling my hair out in frustration and need space from my child; but, when I get to spend the bulk of my days pouring love into her and teaching her values like kindness and empathy, I know I am exactly where I want to be. 

Andrew Peterson has a touching song called Planting Trees that so beautifully depicts his wife's work in one of its verses:

She rises up as morning breaks

She moves among these rooms alone

Before we wake

And her heart is so full; it overflows

She waters us with love and the children grow

THAT is what I want to do. I want to water my family with love at every opportunity. I want to give myself away in a deep and lasting way. I want to make memories of napping together, taking walks together, and learning about life from the inside out.

I can

Not everyone who wants to "stay at home" with their children can. Lots of moms and dads out there would love to be with their children full time but the realities of life demand that they work outside of the home. I know full well that I am lucky to even have this option and I do not take it for granted.

And while it is a privilege, it is also a sacrifice. Because of my choice I forfeit things like interacting and forming relationships with co-workers, keeping current on the latest computer skills and technology, building my resume, and of course a paycheck.

It challenges me

One of the key factors in happiness is whether or not we are challenged and given the opportunity to grow. Being a stay at home mom, I am regularly brought to the end of myself in ways I had never imagined. I am regularly pushed to my limit in areas like patience and self control. My character is being stretched and my rough edges are being exposed as I grapple with how to best raise this little life I have been entrusted with. My daughter teaches me just as much about life and love as I teach her, if not more.

Of course staying at home is not for every parent. "Working" parents have their own set of reasons for working outside of the home that are just as valid as mine. We are all doing what we think is best for ourselves and our families. No judgment. I personally do not know anyone who is not trying to take the best care they can of their children and raise them well. None of us make these decisions lightly. Let's all give each other grace, and encourage each other wherever life has us. These are just my reasons for doing what I do. 

Now. All that said, I could end up looking for a job tomorrow if something changes. None of us know what tomorrow holds. But for right now, for today, I am content. This is what is right for me and my family. I enjoy it and am grateful for it. Which I think is all any of us can ask for from life. 

What about you? What leads you to do what you do and how can we show grace and give space to those who are different than we are?

Hutchmoot

Going to Hutchmoot is a bit like stepping into an alternate universe. You are filled to the brim. You try your darndest to drink as much of the life giving water from the firehose that you can; but alas, it is impossible to take it all in. There are bits of brilliance that enter your mind and enlighten you. There are beautiful songs that envelope you in their melodies and carry you away with their refrains for a few sacred moments. And then there are the avalanches. The thoughts or ideas or new paradigms that make their way into your heart and crash down on everything else around them, making their presence known and changing you forever. 

Though a few weeks have gone by since the 'moot, I do not feel as though I've recovered yet. And I mean this in the best possible sense. Some things are so completely beautiful, so utterly grand and saturated with meaning, that it is almost too much for one heart to bear. There is a sense in which it almost brings me pain how beautiful this Hutchmoot thing was. It causes me to ache in a deep and profound way. Even now, trying to describe it with words only dilutes the true experience of it and frustrates this writer a bit.

I returned home a happier, more vibrant version of myself. I'd been gifted with a renewal unlike any I've had in years. It was as if I'd found myself again. The table was prepared for me by so many hard working kindred souls who put this thing on, and it created an environment where I was able to be served by God through them. I was fed with the richest of fare: truth, beauty, love, kinship, creation, and rest. My eyes are now open to see so much more than when I left: the golden hues of the sun on tree tops stops me in my tracks. The scent of the gardenias in my backyard makes me want to call all the neighbors over to savor this heavenly scent.

I was just so thoroughly plumb happy that it made me think for a minute that if I died while I was there, I might not have noticed if I was in this life or the next.

How could I be the recipient of such grace as to experience this delight? God knew. God knew I needed this gift. Let me tell you, friends, I was as dry and burnt as the Sahara in a heat wave when I arrived in Nashville; and when I left, I was a lush, green garden bursting with the rainbow colors of Eden. I was a different woman when I returned home. Not because of a Peterson, an Overstreet, or an Enger, but because of an extravagant God who rained down lavish grace on his dear daughter. And this daughter could not be more grateful. 

Cloth Diapering: Not As Bad As You Stink

When I was pregnant I never ever dreamed I would cloth diaper my baby. I had an image in my mind that involved safety pins, putrid diaper pails, and a mommy up to her elbows in poo. But, when Shiloh was 4 months old, I read a statistic:

An estimated 27.4 billion disposable diapers are used each year in the US, resulting in a possible 3.4 million tons of used diapers adding to landfills each year.

Did you get that? Twenty seven BILLION each YEAR just in the United States ALONE! That was too much for my little tree-hugging heart to bear. I had to know more. So, I started researching. I read about the effects of disposable and cloth diapers on the environment. I talked to cloth diapering moms, and tried to determine if this was a viable, sustainable endeavor for our family. The more I researched, the more I became excited about it and convinced that this was something I wanted to try.

So, we took the plunge. I bought mostly GroVia and Flip diapers. Both of these are the "hybrid" or "cover/insert" system of diaper, which consist of a cloth insert and a waterproof diaper cover. The inner insert gets soiled and changed, but as long as the outer cover is clean, it can be reused. I like this system because it makes for less laundry than other "all in one" diapers where the entire diaper needs to be laundered after each use. GroVia diapers even have a snap-together system so the insert and the cover are sure to stay in place! In fact, all of our diapers are snap or velcro closures so there's not a safety pin in sight!

I immediately loved cloth diapering. As with anything new there is a learning curve for sure, but especially while Shiloh was exclusively breastfeeding, the cleanup was a breeze. It just worked for me. Of course when we introduced solids into her diet, things became more interesting. Which brings me to the biggest thing folks are afraid of when they imagine cloth diapering: 

WHAT DO YOU DO WITH THE P O O ? ?

The answer is simple. You put it where it belongs: in the toilet. 

This is one of the great benefits of cloth for me, the poo is immediately flushed and not sitting in my house, where it will then be transferred to rot in a landfill somewhere. It is disposed of and then treated as it should be. I like that. I also use these awesome liners that "catch" the poo and are completely flushable (think of strong tissue paper). So when there is a dirty diaper I just take it to the bathroom, hold it over the potty, and flush. That's it!

I use a regular old trash can with a lid for the cloth diaper pail, and then just dump the whole thing into the wash every few days. A drop or two of tea tree oil keeps any odor at bay. I actually like how it smells! I am a person who really hates doing laundry, so when I tell you it's not that bad, you can believe me. Otherwise I would have stopped a long time ago.

Now, I am fully aware that cloth diapers have their own impact on the environment. They use large amounts of water and energy every time they are laundered. So, here are the things I'm doing to combat our carbon footprint:

~ I only wash full loads of diapers

~ I line dry my diapers whenever possible

~ I plan to use these diapers for future children

~ We bought "one size" diapers that grow with our baby, so we only need one set

I like to think that by implementing these few things, we are decreasing our family's impact on the environment. At least I know that our pile of diapers in the local landfill will be a small one.

That said, there are times when we use disposables. If we're traveling it's a no-brainer, as well as when Shiloh goes to preschool. We also reached a point when she was 11 or 12 months old where we switched to using a disposable at night because of the sheer amount of liquid that needed to be contained. Who knew someone less than a year old could hold Niagara Falls in her bladder?!

All in all, I love cloth. Some of the other benefits of cloth for us include a HUGE cost savings, a drastic decrease in diaper leaks and/or explosions, and the simple fact that they are downright cute. :) So, if you're considering cloth, please don't be intimidated. Give it a try! Reach out to a cloth diapering friend or a cloth diapering community. In Charlotte The Milky Way and The Baby Grocery Store are two fabulous places to get you started and each offer their own (free!) cloth diapering classes. There are also tons of online communities that offer support and even sell and trade diapers as well. I would also be happy to answer any questions you may have.

Having said all that, however, cloth diapering isn't for everyone. Each parent has to make their own decision about what is best for them and their child, so no judgment here if you choose disposables. This is just what works for us. To each his own! 

So whatever that choice may be for you and yours, happy bottoms to you, and good luck with whatever your diapers hold today! :)

Guilt, Part 1

I love to watch the Ellen Show. She is generous, kind-hearted and so SO funny. One day during my pregnancy while I was watching the show, Ellen was interviewing a celebrity who had recently become a mom for the first time. When she asked her guest about the biggest surprise motherhood had brought her, her answer came quickly, "The guilt." 

The GUILT?! Shoot. I'm doomed. I could not have been more surprised by her answer.

You see, I was born with a guilty conscious. I feel guilty at the drop of a hat, often for unwarranted reasons. I was raised attending an ultra conservative church, in which each week I walked out feeling guilty for not being a better person and/or Christian. It has been a consistent theme throughout my life.

Smash cut to today and it is no mystery why I feel guilt for so many illegitimate reasons. My circumstances are different than they were when I was a child yet so many of my emotions and thought processes are the same. Call it people-pleasing, over-analyzing, or whatever you'd like. Whatever its name, it is a hard way to live.

We live in the information age. There is no excuse not to be educated about the topics you care about. This is an asset and a privilege. It is also a burden. We have unlimited access to as many books, articles, blogs, and opinions we care to consume. Whatever the opinion/statistic, there is someone somewhere who thinks the exact opposite and can find statistics to support it. For those of us who want to be sure we're doing to the exact right thing every time (like Superwoman), this is a breeding ground for guilt.

For example, The American Academy of Pediatrics 
recommends that children under 2 years of age not watch any TV. None. It is linked to things like obesity and high blood pressure even in children. This is why when I sometimes put on Curious George for my daughter while I'm making dinner or taking a shower, the Guilt Monster is screeching in my ear. "There is scientific evidence showing that TV is detrimental to your child's brain! You're not doing what's best for your daughter. You know better and you're doing it anyway. Shame on you."

I realize this is unhealthy and at least partially untrue, but it is a daily issue for me. And the reality is, "TV under 2" is a fairly benign example of an ocean of issues. Pick your poison: think you've come up with a healthy snack? Dig a little deeper. There is arsenic in those fruit leathers if you look close enough...or at least there is a health guru somewhere telling you that is the last thing you or your child should be putting into your bodies. 

Right when you started to feel good about the choice you made, you are inclined toward guilt once again. I repeat: this is a hard way to live. It is particularly miserable when the issues relate to the health and well-being of your child. Everything is portrayed to be a life or death scenario and anyone who disagrees is jeopardizing the welfare of their child. 

Guilt in itself is not a bad thing. It serves a purpose. It is how our conscience lets us know that we've done something wrong. The problem for many of us comes when we feel illegitimate guilt for things we've done that are not wrong. But like I said, someone somewhere probably disagrees with whatever it is you are doing, and their opinion (and their scientific study to back it up) is only a Google away.

Thankfully this has been less of an issue for me in recent days (which is probably why I am at a place where I can write about it.) Maybe others out there will resonate with this, or maybe one day if my children have children they will read this and realize it's OK to ease up on themselves a bit as parents. 

What I Wish I Knew

I have been a momma for 17 months. And although most days I can barely remember life without a child, relatively speaking 17 months is not a long time; so, before 17 months turns into 17 years, I want to chronicle some things while they are still fresh. With any luck they'll be useful to someone else, too. 

Here are five things I wish someone would have sat me down and said to me before I became a parent:

* Becoming a parent is indescribably beautiful. Whether you give birth to a child, adopt a child, or become a guardian in another way, any time a child comes into your life you are changed forever. While I was pregnant I heard much about sleepless nights, diaper explosions, and other horror stories that experienced parents inexplicably inflict onto soon-to-be parents; but, what I didn't know was that the joy, beauty, and wonder a child brings into your life is more than worth all of that other stuff. I am astounded at how much I absolutely love being a mom (see the post "Surprises"). It is a beautiful thing to pour into a little life and watch it grow.

* Take no one's advice. (Okay, someone did tell me this, but it is worth repeating.) God gave this child to you. You are the perfect parent for them, and they are the perfect child for you. Whether you call it providence, fate, or chance, your lives have crossed and you are the one(s) who will know this child best. Yes, there is much to be gleaned from the wisdom of others and there is certainly a place for that; however, at the end of the day you must make your own choices about how to raise your child. There is an intricate but elegant dance between the weight of this responsibility and the gift of its honor.

* There is no secret combo. This was an expectation I didn't know I had: if I have fed, burped, changed, swaddled, and soothed my baby, she should be happy. Right? WRONG. I think I knew this in theory, but in practice I was shocked! Why is my baby still crying after I have met every one of her needs that I can possibly think of? Why won't she go to sleep?! This is when you must remember the previous point. Your instinct is your best asset. Go with it. There isn't a secret combination to your child's happiness; and, just when you think you may have found one, it will change. Which leads me to my next thought...

* Murphy's Law becomes your new life rule. It becomes exponentially more true in your life when you have children. Think your situation can't get any worse? It will. Can it go wrong? It will. That day that you all have the stomach flu (the two-ender of course) and you just don't think you will make it, will absolutely positively without question become the day that the dog runs away, the power goes out, your basement floods, your car won't start, and your hair catches fire. Not even kidding. I used to think that these kinds of things were just funny things parents said for attention or sympathy. But no. They say it because it's true. You have been warned.

* Guilt and worry are your new BFF's. At least they are for me, and most of my mommy-friends. I remember being out-of-my-mind worried about SIDS. Here you are with your beautiful, brand new bundle of joy, and all of the experts are warning you about the very real possibility that your baby could suddenly and without cause, die. It is a very real and tragic occurrence for many families, so it is worth worrying about. But it doesn't stop there. Each new stage brings new worries. And the guilt. OH, the GUILT. Are you a working mom? You'll feel guilty for being away from your child. Stay-at-home-mom? You'll feel guilty for not helping to provide financially. Get a little bored with the same-old-mundane-every-day routine? You'll feel guilty for not "cherishing every moment". Live close to grandparents? You'll feel guilty for how often you ask them to watch the kids. Live far away from grandparents? You'll feel guilty for how infrequently they get to see the kids. You catch my drift. Whatever you do, you will always wonder if you could have done it differently or better. That is part of the gig, and part of the great adventure.

What kinds of things do you wish you knew before becoming a parent? Let me know in the comments below!

Beauty in the Ordinary

A scene from NBC's The Office

"There is so much beauty in ordinary things. But that's kind of the point, isn't it?"

Those of you who are fans of The Office know exactly where this quote came from: this week's series finale of the beloved show. This hilarious comedy took a mundane desk-job environment and extracted all the love, humor, and quirkiness it could get out of it. After 9 seasons on air, the brilliant finale ended Thursday with that one simple line. Beauty in the ordinary. It filled me up and knocked me over all at once. That is exactly what I have been feeling in my own life.

I live in the suburbs. I am a stay-at-home-mom of a white, middle class family. We have one child, two dogs, four bedrooms, and 3.2 million toys. If we travel, it is to visit grandparents. If we party, it is because it's someone's birthday. Our favorite kind of Friday night is one where we order pizza and watch something on Netflix. We have no claim to fame, and certainly not to fortune. Our lives are remarkably unremarkable.

But...

look a little deeper, 

and there are gold mines.

Look at the house that has become a home and a place of safety, belonging, and familiarity for a couple weary of moving. Look at the upstairs office that was turned into a nursery to welcome home a beautiful baby girl who is thriving and flourishing and bringing almost unbearable amounts of joy to her parents. Look at the couple who has had their share of ups and downs but is now closer than ever. Look at the friends that frequent our doorstep, the pictures that grace the mantle, and the toys that scatter the floor. All these are so very ordinary, and yet so full of depth and meaning. 

An ordinary day in the Huber living room.

Life with small children can be terribly mundane. Each day holds the same meals, messes, clean-ups, naps, diaper changes, and play times as the day before it did. And the day before that. And the day before that. It can all feel so stale and boring. (Sara Groves has the perfect song and music video for this stage of life called Setting Up the Pins.) But...BUT...I steal a sweet, slobbery kiss each time I strap Shiloh into her car seat. I get to see my husband, the love of my life, unfold into a confident and compassionate father; and, I can watch as my baby girl runs into his arms when he arrives home and goes back for as many zerberts as she can get. I get a first hand look at a tiny human learning all there is to know about life, and experience a mother's love - a love more desperate and beautiful than any I'd ever known. You see, there is so much beauty in the ordinary it is simply indescribable. It is impossible to put into words. 

This week as I laid in my hammock in our back yard I sensed the beauty almost tangibly. The baby was asleep, my hubby was working in the yard, my two crazy dogs were chasing each other around, and the beautiful Carolina blue skies held my gaze. It was just so simple, so utterly and completely ordinary, and so breathtakingly beautiful. It is those moments we will miss when we find ourselves in the next hard season. The next time the phone rings with bad news, it will be those peaceful, boring, gut-wrenchingly ordinary days that I will miss.

So for today, I will cherish the ordinary. I will take the time to reflect on the lack of drama in our lives and be thankful.

"I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you left them." (Thanks yet again, The Office.)

You know something? I think that is exactly what this is.