2021, Where’d You Go?
Wow. It has been a hot minute since I last wrote or shared an update. Thank you for your patience with me as I shake the rust off my brain and try to remember how to put keystrokes to screen and compose complete, adult-sounding sentences again. Somehow an entire year has gone by and I am now the parent of children that are 8, 7, 5, 3, and 4 months old. Yes, they are all a year older and there’s a new one. They have multiplied, somedays like Gremlins it seems. I am basking in the glow of warm, white lights on a tree that will probably be up for the next three months and I shall attempt to remember and wrap up a year that feels like one giant blur.
There was January where my morning (all day) sickness was so intense it was almost debilitating. This conveniently overlapped with a three-week, whole-house quarantine due to one member of our family having covid. I’m not being facetious, it was truly convenient for me because it meant there were more adults around to help while I was laying horizontal in bed attempting to keep nausea at bay and food down. The other adults probably don’t view it that way, but they’re not the ones writing this blog. It was during this time that I discovered the secret to impressing my oldest son who’s usually only interested in Fortnite, he commented, “Wow, Mom, you’ve stayed in bed all day. That’s impressive.” Yes, son, you’ve caught me, I’m not miserable, just lazy, this was my goal all along.
Once I felt good enough to be functional again, I was halfway through my pregnancy and already waddling about the house. I spent these months potty training our little Flash. My mom has described potty training me as the black hole of parenting. I now understand. During this phase, I coined a new phrase and title which I bestowed on myself, that of poop doula. I’d rather not talk about it. Somehow, we survived, and the potty training eventually worked. Sort of…
Then there was July when that baby, who had made the first half of the year such a struggle for me, came into the world as the perfect addition to our family. She (Yes, she— apparently we can make girls) is Supergirl to our little Justice League. Little miss took the title as tiniest of our bunch, weighing in around 6 1/2 lbs. She was birthed at our home in the comfort of my bed, and very much on purpose. Unlike the middle brothers who basically delivered themselves, she actually made me push and reminded me of what typical labor and delivery look like. I appreciate her nondramatic, panic and expletive free, entrance into the world. Though these earliest months with her have indicated that being drama-free with her is probably just a fluke.
My mom and my midwife 
How we told my parents 
Sweet baby snuggles and all the pink
The very next day after welcoming our daughter into the world, we said a painful goodbye to our sweet pup of 14 years. Maya was truly the best dog anyone could ever have. She deserves an entire blog post dedicated to her, and I’m sorry I didn’t give her one. She was so loving and patient with us. She rolled with the punches every time the Army moved us, even halfway around the world and back. She loved us through the addition of every child, welcoming them to the crew that she had started as a little puppy with a broken paw. Her last gift to us was waiting to welcome one more baby into our home before she told us it was time to let her go.
In the wake of this mix of sadness and immense joy, life moved forward at breakneck speed here when, in August, fussy newborn in hand, my husband and I took over the role as worship leaders at our church. The extra responsibility of a part-time job has been stressful at times, but we are humbled and grateful to serve such a loving, grace-filled congregation of people. I never thought I would voluntarily become a working mom, especially in a church leadership role, but it serves to remind me over and over again that God’s plans aren’t my own, and it is a privilege to center myself in obedience to them.
We did have one opportunity to slow down and in October we took a family vacation to the Blackhills of South Dakota. The sites were stunning, the indoor waterpark was a blast for my children, and in a shocking turn of events, no one got car sick, even when I accidentally had us make one turn that turned into a 60-mile drive around the Badlands. Also shocking, was the kids’ minimal complaining about the seemingly never-ending drive.
And now, here we are, speeding rapidly along to the end of the year. Life has changed so much in a short period of time, and I am figuring out what this new season looks like as a full-time parent with kids in every stage (elementary, preschool, infant), a full-time caregiver, part-time worship leader, a mildly successful potty-trainer, and a still aspiring writer who maybe remembers how to do this.
