catch up

So since I have posted last, just a few things have occurred in our lives...;-)

Our exciting news that we announced in May!  Due January 5th.

After 3 early miscarriages in just 6 months, I saw a fertility specialist who helped me get and stay pregnant.  What a huge blessing!

Pretty much soon after finding out, the dreaded morning sickness started up.  A very good sign that baby was thriving but still not fun.

I have Hyperemisis Gervadium (basically horrible pregnancy nausea).  I had it with both boys and this baby has been no exception.  Some days I wondered if it was actually worse this go around but I think it is more chasing two toddlers while having it that makes it hard.

So for the past 7 months I've really been in a deep dark place of trying to survive.
It's so strange and I still feel guilty about it but even after wanting a baby SO badly for SO long, the nausea had me wondering if I had made a mistake.

Not only is it feeling like you have a horrible stomach bug + you are starving to death 24/7 for weeks and weeks and weeks with no relief, but for me it is just the screeching halt I have to put to 95% of my motherly, wifely duties.  It's SO hard to be throwing up all the time and not be able to play with the boys.

Thank the Lord as soon as we found out I was pregnant we sort of semi hired my younger sister (15) for the summer.  She practically lived with us for 2 months in the thick of it and would do nearly everything.  Cooking, cleaning, taking care of the boys.  I was too sick to even really watch TV.  It was miserable.  I was so thankful for Noah.  Even though empathy is not his thing, he managed to wake up early with the boys nearly every morning so I could get extra sleep and spent many a night hanging out a lone when I fell asleep before 7.

So I just in the past month I've started my golden period of pregnancy.  The few weeks I don't throw up every day.

I would do it again and again though because I know it's worth it (I will not be choosing to do it again and again though;-)

At almost 19 weeks we found out we are expecting a little...GIRL!

Her name will be Lucy Miller and we will call her both names.  

I was so sure we were going to have 3 boys.  I had completely prepared myself for it and was at the point where I was really putting down even the thought of a girl.  After the initial shock wore off and I "mourned" the little boy I had envisioned in my head for so many months, I realized what a deep desire I had in my heart for a daughter.

  

Since that day, I have fallen more in love with her and am excited to get to know who she is.  

Also since I last wrote:

-We traveled to Costa Rica (without our boys) for a week for Noah's brother's destination wedding.  It was like the best honeymoon ever.

-We were set up to purchase and move into my dream house

-House fell through due to finding so many things that needed repair (1920s house)

 -Put an offer on another house that was working its way into my heart as my dream house
-Decided to hold off on it for now. (we are now bringing home baby to a 2 bedroom, already cramped house)
-Saw my sister Georgia Ann engaged and married in a 7 week time period.
-Made 4 trips to the beach this summer (most of them were at a grandparents condo, so we didn't have to pay for 4 vacations)
-Threw up like a million times
-Went through several personal, family tragedies.
-Switching practices and hospitals at 31 weeks
-Got certified as a Doula and started a birth photography company (www.mystorybirthphotography.com)

SO much change.   Honestly though, the most change has been in my heart.  Lots of ugly parts of it have been so apparent to me.  I've really struggled with things lately that I have never had trouble with.  One of them being my need to be liked.  There have been several instances in the past few months where I have felt very unloved and left out.  There have been times I've been told flat out I wasn't worth working on a relationship and there was nothing I could do about it.  I have found myself obsessing over my like ability.  
I've also struggled MAJORLY with comparison and judging others (a lot because of social media).
All very ugly things that I want to push down into the depths of my soul.

I've also struggled with the realization that I am NOT a new mother (despite the fact that days I really can't even believe I'm already a grown up and not only that but that I will be in charge of 3 children very soon!).  I am SO not in a place where I feel even close to having it "together".  Despite my best efforts I still feel like every day is survival.  I've struggled with feeling inadequate to be a mother to my boys and I've struggled with lots of judgement with how I have been raising them (discipline wise mostly).  I've had several people remark in the past weeks how they can't imagine how I will ever be able to handle another child.  
I am certainly not even perfect, but God is shaping me through being a mother.  It's HARD it is humbling and some days I feel like I am making no headway.  Feeling like I am being judged in every area every time I am out in public puts a pressure on me (well I am putting it on myself) that paralizes me and makes me do things I wish I wouldn't discipline wise.
I've struggled with feeling guilt and desperation as I am bringing another child into this family of chaos.  I was banking on a new, bigger house helping me have a fresh start and hopefully getting me to the point of functioning like a "real adult".  As I've seen two houses that I had spent hours and hours mentally making our home and raising our children in, fall through, more ugliness of my heart has shown itself: My entitlement, my selfishness and my distrust in my husband and God.

So here I am nearly 32 weeks pregnant.

Feeling blessed.

Feeling like I am on the verge of tears at nearly every moment of the day (sadness, frustration and joy)

Feeling SO excited to be able to birth another baby and bond with another newborn

Feeling like I am NOT ready yet!

Trying to treasure my moments with the boys as I know my time will again be divided

Realizing that no one has it together, despite how it may look on the outside

Reminding myself that I am a work in progress and all I can do is my best

I don't know if anyone reads this anymore but if anyone does, I'm going to move over to wordpress at:

www.barclayandme.wordpress.com

Also, if anyone wants to see pictures from the past 7 months, you can look me up on instagram under helenjgeorge :-)

The sucking hole in my heart

Lately I've become so aware of my own depravity in a really ugly way.
Lets just say, since I can remember I've been a minimalist, a simple liver and a very thankful person who didn't need much to make me happy.  Relationships, friendships...that's where it was always at.

Since my life has come to a screeching halt from going full speed ahead for years and years, I've been trying to hide the gaping hole in my heart that is just sucking down things left and right and leaves me discontent, selfish and just down right childlike.

You see, I've always been ahead in everything.  I skipped out on my last year of high school, dropped out, got my GED, got a full scholarship on my violin to college, I got married 2 years into college and way before any of my friends, I was several years ahead of my friends in getting pregnant, as soon as I had Barclay I already wanted another baby.  In the first 5 years of marriage we had moved 8 times. It's been a wild and fun ride.  I thought I would just continue in that same strain of crazy living by getting pregnant with our third and last child...to tie up our family in a pretty bow and moving into our forever house.  Well try as I might, things are slow...in my mind nearly stagnant.  I have to work hard every single day to mentally be present with the wonderful, beautiful children I do have.  It's embarrassing.  It makes me feel so ungrateful, but it is true.

God has worked on me so much in this waiting period.  It is undeniable.  It's exciting.  I keep praying that he will fill my gaping hole since I know that is the only thing that can (in my head) but still I find myself desperately desiring this or that.  But this season of rest has given me tons of time to stop and listen to God.  I feel like I'm constantly grasping at things to fill me up and often times there is nothing.  I feel empty.  And then my eyes are opened to the big picture of God's grace and love for me and for a moment, I feel whole.  It doesn't happen a lot but when it does I try to remember for the next time I find myself feeling discontent and unhappy.  It's really hard.

Coffee Porn

Oh Coffee.

I've been in a battle with myself for the past 6 or so months.  A battle to train myself to not feel entitled to drink coffee.

In an age with what I like to call, "coffee porn" at every single click or swipe of our digital portholes, drinking coffee is the cool thing to do for sure!  It's like there is an invisible thread connecting people all over the world with their daily cup.  

4 months ago, after trying and failing to get ands stay pregnant I decided to rid myself of my morning coffee drink.  Not only because of the fertility factors with the caffeine but because I tend to put a lot of cream and maple syrup in mine and I thought taking out regular calories from my diet would be beneficial.
Since then I've moved to about 1-2 coffees a week from about 1-2 a day.

When I first started NOT drinking coffee, I felt strangely so empty and I found myself several times a week feeling like there was a deep hole left that only coffee could fill...

exhibit a. My kids are being crazy, why don't I just jump in the car and go to drive through coffee while they are detained in their 5 point harnesses?:-)

exhibit b. I want to write in my journal so I need to go sip some coffee in that perfect coffee house environment to do it.

exhibit c. Talking about it with friends... how much we love it, the best kinds, how we can't function without it...

Coffee when instagramed in a messy situation (ie folding a ton of laundry or standing over new artwork drawn on the kitchen floor) gives the impression although my life is falling apart around me, I am calm and collected because I am holding my cup of coffee.

It makes cool situations even COOLER! (ie I'm grocery shopping by myself!  I think I'll just buy a coffee to enhance this experience all the more!)
cha ching! (that was a cash register for the coffee shop people)

Coffee carried in a mug in social situations gives me
a.something to do with my hands and
b.gives off an air of, "I am seriously a cool and confident person because I am holding this coffee mug."  I don't even know why!

When I picture my happy perfect self in my mind's eye, I am laughing with a long french braid down my back, a beautiful long twirly skirt and...a coffee cup!

I'm not saying that my hundreds of friends on fb or instagram shouldn't do this or that I think they're being posey or fake for it...I'm just saying that seriously several SEVERAL times a day I am tempted to do the same thing, and that my dear friends, costs me money and health!

Throughout my coffee hiatus, I've learned a lot.

Like:

-I can have wonderful times without having to pay for coffee.  Just appreciating the time I have.

-That my darling boys should be what gets me out of bed and excited for the day.

-That instead of feeling the need to spend money on coffee to make me feel like I'm having a good day, I should just have a good day!

Today in target on a blissful, childless trip, I had prepared myself (even though I haven't gotten Starbucks in over a year) that I would be tempted as soon as I walked in the door to indulge myself and feel like a super cool mom with my yoga outfit, sweaty hair and Starbucks in hand.  I was even picturing the cool instagram I would put up with my empty red cart and my hand clutching that special treat.  Right away I was greeted with a huge human sized poster of a super creamy coffeee....I kept walking but the whole time looking around at other cool people with their Starbucks I kept thinking about it.  Today, price not health, justified my decision to not partake.  However, minutes later I found myself in the produce section oogling over some raspberries.  They were 3.69 for a little carton.  I almost didn't buy them until I realized that in the past I wouldn't have blinked at spending that for a coffee drink so I decided to buy them, eat them all in one delicious sitting and instagram them instead of coffee.  Because walking around eating raspberries is pretty cool too;-)

Friends, this is not a way to univite myselves to coffee dates every once in a while, or to move my convictions over onto you, it simply is just that I feel I've finally broken free from the deep internal slavery to coffee and the people who sell it!  Also, I will most likely one day find myself capturing a moment involving coffee on instagram so don't make fun of me and refer me back to this post:-)

repeat

I feel like my life is this:
have a party
spend a day recovering from preparing for the party
the house is crazy messy from not keeping up with it for one day
spend a day getting it cleaned for another party
repeat

*parties over here include watching walking dead with friends, cooking dinner for friends, and then full blow birthday parties;-)  No keg stands are involved.

Nudest hippy with spurts of june cleaver every other day

-My boys bleed, scrape, fall, cry AT LEAST twice each...every single day.  Is this normal?  Are they especially clumsy or something?  I'm a really compassionate person but it has gotten to the point where I am so immune to their cries and so calm in the presence of blood (this is coming from someone who used to faint when we talked about blood in science class).  Last Saturday Barclay split his head open and I scooped him up, went back to the living room and promptly tried to finish up a Downton Abbey episode, all while semi comforting him.  I mean REALLY, this kid cries all the time.  It was like a minute before the dripping blood on my arm got my attention.  Poor kid had to get his head glued up.  Even yesterday when I was signing them up for childcare at the gym, Barclay happened to climb something and slip and bite through his tongue.  I am a compassionate person I promise but I barely blink anymore at the constant accidents.


-I seriously want to know if I am going finally be pregnant this summer.  The style coming out in regular clothes is SUPER cute and I want to buy some new clothes if I am not going to be sporting a bump.  Last summer I was 100% certain I would be pregnant and really felt I missed out on some cute stuff because I was just sure I wouldn't be able to wear it.  A whole season down the drain.  I will say pretty much every time the style of normal clothes is cute and cut showing off the waist, I get pregnant...also the adorable maternity style seems to be taking a turn for "businessy" which means the odds are in my favor;-)  I'm never in the style that is cute if that makes sense.

-I hate feeding my children.  HATE it.  One of the mental pictures I had in my head growing up was me in the kitchen cooking up healthy yummy food for my family with children pleasantly playing underfoot.
REALITY...Barclay has allergies that limit our family meals and he hate almost everything he's not allergic to.  Also Noah is picky too.  It all goes down like this 90% of the time:
I'm in an already messy kitchen racking my brain of what to possibly feed them again.  Pinterest fails me every time because the delicious allergy free foods have weird textures that Barclay wont touch.  So I am stepping on cheerios from breakfast with my bare feet, and possibly (LIKELY) popcorn from the boys play session with trucks.  Both kids are usually crying from lack of my undivided attention (poor dears!) and I look a hot mess.
Today at lunch after heating up meatballs (a meal I was hoping to add to our short list) I noticed they had gluten in them and were also spicy.  So I proceeded to feed hotdogs and bread.  Since Barclay couldn't have bread and butter I gave him butter...on a fork because I felt so sorry for him.


-I have come to realize that staying busy with my photography is key in keeping me out of the quick pit of depression.  I feel guilty about it (I mean I am basically saying blissful domestic life doesn't fulfill me).  I just find if I don't have stuff to do I usually do nothing.  But when I do have stuff to do, I keep up better with stuff.


-God is working big time on my heart.  Every day (cheesy as it sounds), my heart is softening and my eyes are being opened to the "big picture".

-The thing in life I am most terrified of at this point in time, is that I will not be able to have another child.

-I daily swing back and forth from being a super put together, 5th avenue-esque mom with beautiful clothes, adorable hair, made up face AND a nudest hippy.

-I cannot shake this feeling.  The feeling of playing house.  I mean, is this all a dream?  Am I really a mom (and not even a new mom at that?).  Am I really at this point in my life where I thought I might have it a little more together than I do.  I genuinely cannot believe that I am nearing 30 and am this unprepared and fly by the seat of my pants (in a bad way).

-Admission.  In the rare instances where life is very june cleaver-ish I make sure I document them with instagram.  This include random beverages I am drinking (not including out of the carton oj), amazing angles of me from my iphone that don't include anything below my neck, bragging pictures of clean rooms, amazing meals I cook (once every two weeks)...

ps-the hotdogs are organic

My funny valentine

Dearest little one,

It's been 2 years since I first laid eyes on you.  We had a scary start.  There wasn't immediate bonding and snuggling...I was just glad that you were alive.

Around 2 am that next morning I woke up from my drugged state and asked the nurses to bring you to me.  In those wee morning hours I fell so deeply in love with you.  It was just you and me and I couldn't believe how my heart grew.

My number one fear of being a mother of two was loving you.  I just didn't know how it could happen.  It just did.

You have been such a pleasure to nurture.  You make it easy.  I made a decision that I would not listen to other people this go around and that I would enjoy nurturing you the way that came naturally.  I have hundreds of memories stored up of blissful moments of the sun coming through my shades and just you and me.  Nursing, sighing, snuggling and enjoying every single moment.
There are still moments today, in your busy-two-year-old ways that I instantly store in my heart because you are so precious and moments with you are so precious.
You have become quite the chatter box and have the sweetest little voice.  It blows my mind that now you can say sentences of 5+ words.  You were so chill as a baby that I thought that was how you would be.  Not at all!  You are fiery and you do not let your big brother bully you.  You sing and dance and play right along with him.

To be honest the past month or two has been rough.  You have hit a patch of terrible twos that has brought me to my knees.  Sometimes during the day I just feel like laying down and sleeping for a week.  BUT you still find moments to snuggle with me, sing to me, play sweetly with your brother and I see your sweet spirit.

You are beautiful.  Absolutely drop dead, stop in your tracks beautiful.  You have the most beautiful eye lashes I've ever seen and the rosiest rosebud lips.  You flirt a lot and slowly bat your lashes while smiling and holding your hands together.

Nothing fills my heart like watching you and Barclay growing up together.



Sullivan you fill my heart with joy!
I can't wait to see you grow another year.

I love you my sweet little Valentine,
Mama

why the absence?

I've noticed my blog posts have gone from nearly every day to once a month in the past year.  I've asked myself why and here is what I've come up with:

1-Time!  To sit down and formulate thoughts and have somewhat readable grammar is quite a feat most days.

2-I feel pressure.  I feel pressure to put up pictures with my posts because I tend to write wordy posts and I feel like no one reads them.  Or pressure to write in the "cool-hipster-blog-mom" tone.

3-I barely get comments anymore which makes me feel like seriously almost no one is reading anymore...they've given up too.

4-(and most prominent in my mind)...
I feel like in the past I've been real and people have liked that.  I've been real about the exhaustion of motherhood, about past struggles or hurts...
I feel I'm going through a stage in my life where real is not just relatable...It is plain ugly.  Instead of writing things like: "My child wouldn't stop screaming, and I am a tired mess.", I want to write stuff like, "Does God really love me?", "Will I ever be able to have another baby?  Will I ever be content?  "Did I cause God to hate me?, "I think about possibly being pregnant 70% of my day", "I think about how fat I am the every second of the day."  I hate how I look, my husband hates how I look.", "Have I wasted my childrens' last year with my constant roller coaster of trying to have another baby?" "The pure, black, yucky jealousy that seems to be pouring out of my heart at every log onto facebook or text from a pregnant friend.

I'm dealing with some ugly stuff.  Stuff almost too ugly to write out.

And that's why.

To my spunky boy on his 4th birthday

Oh my baby!  

I cannot believe you are 4 years old today!  I feel like you’ve been with us forever and yet 4 seems so grown up to me.
 
The second they placed you in my arms, I’ve never felt such an instant love.  Ever since that moment you have proved over and over again that my heart could practically double in size every day.
It’s such an honor to be your mommy.  I watch you from afar and my heart just swells with gratitude that I get to spend every day with you.  You make life so wonderful and rich.
 
This past year I’ve watched you transform into a much calmer child.  Right after your 3rd birthday we discovered your severe allergy to gluten and you have been so much happier and calmer than before.  You still are extremely strong willed and that proves to be an everyday challenge.  I know that strong will, if pointed in the right direction will serve you well in the future.  Your daddy calls it “leadership qualities”.    

I adore your imagination.  I’ve been around a lot of kids your age and you, by far, have the best imagination.  Every morning I wake up and hold my breath as I await you to declare what you will be that day (a superhero, a fixer man, a cat, a baby, a daddy...)  One of my favorite things is to sit back and just watch you as you weave an imaginary world around you.  You never need toys to have a wonderful time.  You find the strangest things on the ground and turn them into all kinds of things.  Scraps of wood quickly become tools, fingernail clippers become your pocket knife, ect.  

You are the friendliest child.  No matter where we go you are making friends and having deep conversations.  Your childlike honesty is so refreshing and sometimes embarrassing:-)  The other day at the zoo you saw a very old man and said, “Wow!  You must be a cowboy!  Well actually you are much too old to be a cowboy.”
I love that you genuinely care and love everyone.  You will approach the grungiest of men with the sweetest of conversations.  You spread such joy everywhere you go.  I’m so proud of you.

You are caring and compassionate.  Any time anyone is sad you immediate are by their side trying to make it better.  Countless times this past year you have curled up next to me in sad moments and just rubbed my arm sweetly saying, “It’s going to be ok, mama.  I love you, mama”.  
Countless times I wake up to your sweet little hot hands holding my face and saying things like, “good morning beautiful mama!”.

You are a mess.  All boy.  Completely mischievous and rough and tumble.  I love it.  I cried for days when I found out you were a boy.  I never thought I could connect with a boy.  I love it.  I love how dirty you get every day, how when you want to show love to your brother that you tackle him giggling the whole time.    

Speaking of your brother, watching ya’ll play and talk is the best thing ever.  Yes, you beat eachother up nearly every hour but equally you hold his hand, speak sweetly to him and are constantly in tune to his needs.  You are the best big brother.

You are spunky.  You have the cutest little wayward smile that is just the epitome of a boyish grin.  You’re going to be a heartbreaker.

This past year your heart has softened and opened up to things of the Lord.  Countless times throughout the day I hear you singing sweetly songs about Jesus.  

It’s a bittersweet thing watching you grow and become more independent.  You can now dress yourself completely.  I know one day you will leave and become a man with a life of his own.  I pray so much that above all else that you are confident in the love of your parents and most of all the unconditional love of your heavenly father.

I feel like I have captured nearly every moment of your life and held it in my heart.  I can completely remember sitting for hours upon hours holding your cooing, sighing body on my chest.  Watching every little detail of your face, toes, fingers dreaming of what you would one day be.  I remember giggling with you in the grass and picking out animals out of the clouds, and having tea together when Sullivan is napping.  There are thousands of crystal clear memories in my heart that I will treasure forever.  And there is room for years and years more of them.

Now when I hold you, your feet dangle past my knees. I still love to hold you tight and sway as I sing "our song".

I am so far from a perfect mother but you love me.  We are learning this together.  
Barclay Thomas, God is using you to refine me.  Everyday I learn so much about how God loves me, because of how I love you no matter what you do.  
Thanking God for another year of being your mother.  

I love you just the way you are.

Love your Mama