Enough About the Kids...It's My Milestone!

I realize that most of my readers enjoy this blog because I talk about my ridiculously cute and intelligent kids and post wonderful pictures of them. So, if that's what you value then this post isn't for you, because I'm talking about my own milestone.

Through so much hard work of my own, I am turning 30!

It's true. On February 1, 2015 at 8:48 am I will be 30 years old. And so, this has caused me to reflect on my 20's and become all sappy about what my 30's will  bring and think about my mom who was in her 30's when she was diagnosed with cancer. And it has kind of frustrated me. I love birthdays (mostly my kid's and loved ones) and my rational mind realizes that it's just another year. There is nothing magical about 30 that will bring about great fortune or ridiculous ruin to my family. But, nonetheless, emotionally 30 is proving to be a bit difficult for me.

Let's start with reflection...
In my 20's I:
got married, graduated from college, got my master's degree, and became a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (first in MO and then a few years later in IL).
Participated in the Susan G. Komen 3 Day walk in FL.
Bought my first house and 9 months later, became a mom.
Held 3 jobs within my chosen field.
Bought a car.
Became an aunt...3 times!
Drove to PA with some of my family to bury my Gma next to her parents.
Had my second child.

I'm sure there's stuff I'm forgetting. 10 years is a lot to remember. But really, my 20's weren't all that bad. Sure, there were some really tough seasons to walk through (unexpectedly losing my Gma and my pregnancy with Claire to name a couple), but God is good and He provided what we needed to sustain us.

I grew up in my 20's. Maybe most people do. Getting married and having kids tends to do that to a person I assume. But more than growing up as a person, I think I grew up in my faith. I entered my 20's with some strict parameters on faith and what it looks like. And (in large part to my college years at GC) as I leave my 20's I can safely say that I can boil my faith down to this: love God, and in doing so, love others.
For me, faith is about love. It's not complicated, it's not judgmental, it doesn't force thoughts and beliefs on others. It is tolerant and forgiving and loving.
I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle Melton. In this book she says:
Be confident because you are a child of God. 
Be humble, because everyone else is too. 
I love that. It definitely challenged me to reevaluate how I love the people that frustrate me most. Those people who I find it hardest to love (we all have them). I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter how they make me feel, or that I don't understand their actions because God loves them...so I do too. I want to be an agent of love through my faith.
And guess what guys? When you focus on loving others, life gets easier. It becomes easier to forgive. It becomes easier to have quality relationships. You're happier because you're not spending time judging others or holding actions against people. No, you won't be perfect and some will make it much more difficult than others. But I promise, it's worth it to at least give it a try.
So, in my 30's I will say this: Because I love God, I will love others.
And I pray that my kids will see that in me and desire do to the same.

I mentioned earlier that as I approach 30, I've been thinking about how young my mom really was when she got sick. I was in high school and can remember hearing other people commenting on how young she was. At the time I didn't really think about it. She was my mom after all...she wasn't young. I mean she wasn't old, but definitely not young. But now? Now, I am less than a decade away from the age she was when she was first diagnosed. And guess what guys...I'm not old. Really. I'm not. 30 is the new 20 after all.
Some of you reading this know that when I turned 28 I had to start having mammograms every 6 months. My mom was 38 when first diagnosed and because I am high risk, the rule of thumb is that I needed to begin doing this when I was ten years younger than when she was diagnosed. So, 28 was my magic number.
The first couple of times were no big deal. I mean, it's uncomfortable, but I wasn't really too worried about anything. Then, July happened. I went in and they did the mammogram. Shortly after, someone came out and took me to an ultrasound room. As they did the ultrasound I kept thinking "they've never been this thorough before..." After the ultrasound they determined that I needed to go ahead and do another mammogram (lucky me!). I finally asked the doctor what they were looking for/at and she explained that they had found something in my right breast. Gulp.
Claire was with me because I needed to nurse before having the mammogram(s). So, the doctor left me in this ultrasound room to nurse Claire again before the next one. I was alone otherwise and as I looked at Claire, I cried. I wasn't crying because I might have cancer...the tears were for her. They were for Reed and Dane. If I did have cancer...what would it do to them? I couldn't leave them. I couldn't put them through this.
And it hit me just how scared my mom...who was young...must have been for us.
(luckily my "something" was determined to be a cyst often found in nursing moms).
And so now, I ridiculously become an emotional mess the week prior to the mammograms. It kinda sucks. I don't think I was expecting to have to confront my mom's death in different ways as I got older. I foolishly believed that I had accepted it and could just live my life in peace. I know that some of this is because I'm a woman and a mom just like her. I can empathize with how she felt because it's exactly how I would feel. I get that unique look into my mom's head and heart. It's painful, but it's also good. It's a connection. And for those of us who have lost a parent (or other loved one)...connections are good, even if they're painful.

So, I'm turning 30. And I will enter my 30's with thanksgiving, with love, and with a stronger connection to my mom even though she's not here to celebrate with me. My 30's will be great. They will be tough and scary and wonderful and filled with love.
Here's to 30. The good, the bad, and everything in between.

7 Months

Now that Claire is a week away from being 8 months old (seriously?!?!) it seems to be the perfect time to write her 7 month blog. In my defense, 7 months fell just after Reed's 4th  birthday and just before Christmas. It kind of got lost in the hustle and bustle of December. I believe you all will forgive me.
Here are some bullet points:

• first Christmas went well
• she's super close to crawling. seriously...any day now. 
• she's eating more solids 
• she's "talking" a bunch more
• she's still got the best smile and thighs that won't quite
• she's still super cute and I doubt that this will be changing. 

And she's lucky she's so cute...because she has forgotten how to sleep through the night. The problems started when she was about 6 months old. At first we attributed it to teething. And maybe that's what started it (she has 2 teeth), but now, she won't go back to sleeping for a stretch longer than 4 hours. It's rough.
I reached out to some friends for advice/prayer and one of them who struggled with sleep issues with her own son suggested that we meet with a sleep specialist. They did and within two weeks their son was sleeping 10 hours in a row at night. At this point I can't even imagine....
She gave us the information of the one they met with and you better believe that I called the next day and set up an appointment. I don't mess around with sleep, y'all.
The bad part is that the appointment isn't until mid-February. So, unless Claire miraculously remembers how awesome it is to sleep through the night, we're looking at at least another month of this.
Praise the Lord for coffee.

(pics are in reverse order..newest to oldest..refer above to my lack of sleep, resulting in little energy, making tasks like reorganizing these pics of little importance)

 Group pic as we said "see ya later and good luck" to Tyler who left for LA today. 

 Standing up is one of her favorites right now. 

 Squishy face. 

 Tea party on Christmas morning. 

 Christmas Eve. 

 It's all fun and games until your brother unbuckles you when mom isn't looking and you fall down between the seat and the steering wheel screaming and when your mom asks your brother why he did that he replies "because I wanted to have an adventure." Mission accomplished then. 

7 months.