Category Archives: choices

Why’s there a baby under that blanket?

breast-feeding, choices, priorities February 7, 2012 Comments: 2

I really didn’t plan on being some crazy, hippie breastfeeding activist.  It just sort-of happened. When I was pregnant with my first child I was given a copy of the book The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding.  My mom didn’t nurse me or my little brother so I really didn’t have any first-hand knowledge from anyone who had breastfed.  I did feel though, that I should make an effort because it made sense to me that God designed a woman’s body to be able to nourish her children. So I had decided this is what I would do.  It was the best option for my baby and I would make it happen. Easy as that, right?

Well…for some women maybe, but not for every woman.  When I had that first baby, I had to have help figuring out how to get him to latch on, then I needed reassurance that he was actually getting enough milk, then I needed to learn how to nurse while hiding so as not to make anyone else uncomfortable discreetly in public or at family gatherings.

Thankfully, Foster was a wonderful baby, not that every baby isn’t wonderful, but he was easy.  My milk came in, but not until day 4 and after that he nursed well, gained weight, slept 8 hours by the time he was 3 months old. I didn’t get mastitis or plugged ducts.

I had this breastfeeding thing in the bag! What a success I was!

Then I had Katie.  Baby #2.  When she was born I had a 20 month old to chase, she was a snacker (she would nurse for approx. 5 minutes and then nurse again 1 hour later) , she didn’t sleep, I got plugged ducts AND mastitis. She didn’t gain weight or have regular bowel movements. 

I sucked at breastfeeding! What a failure I was!

The thing is I have nursed all my babies, most until at least a year old.  But a few things I have learned along the way is that women do not have the encouragement or the support system that past generations had when it comes to feeding their children naturally.  I am not an anthropologist so I can’t give you any textbook facts here, but my theory is that back in the day when grandmothers, aunts, cousins were always with each other, they were able to see breastfeeding for what it was, the natural, expected way to feed your baby.  My mom didn’t even really think breastfeeding was an option.  They just showed you how to mix the formula and give the bottles.

I wouldn’t trade my time nursing my babies for anything.  The bonding alone makes the struggles and sacrifices worth it.  But, I also realize that it doesn’t mean I love my children more than a mom who couldn’t or wouldn’t breastfeed.

Old church, new church

choices, faith January 28, 2012 1 Comment

My husband and I started out as newlyweds trying to find a church that we could worship in as a couple.  One that wasn’t “his” and wasn’t “mine” but that would be “ours”. 

It took us a little over a year but we did indeed find a great church.  We were expecting our first baby and were filled with excitement as we began to make new friends, build relationships, serve, learn more about scripture from our pastor, worship and grow spiritually. 

We were at our old church for 8 and half years.  We had 4 of our 5 children dedicated there.  Foster was baptized there.  I had a best friend there.  My kids had best friends there.  Chris and I taught Sunday school classes, I sung in the choir for awhile.  We held all kinds of babies and toddlers in the nursery, along with our own.  It was home. 

And then, it wasn’t.  It first happened spiritually, then relationally.

I would love to be able to say the decision and the circumstances that led up to it were organized and sterile. “First A happened, then B happened, then C happened, then we prayed and God said A+B+C= time to find a new church home.”

But, that’s not life.  And it’s certainly hasn’t been easy.  It’s been painful.  It has felt like a divorce in a lot of ways.  It has been hard to explain to our young children.  We have told them that they just have to trust us, and God. 

One thing that I have come to realize during the whole process is that my relationship with God – my day-to-day talks with Him (prayer) and my spiritual education (reading my bible) does not hinge on my church attendance. 

A church home is wonderful. It helps to encourage and support you and your family.  A church family offers great opportunities for you to minister to others.  A church full of fellow believers worshipping together can be a beautiful experience. 

But, the personal relationship is up to you.  The spiritual education of your children is up to you and your spouse.

It’s kind of like a banana split.  (Hear me out here.) God is the banana and you are the ice cream.  That alone is delicious.  Church, though, is the hot fudge sauce, the nuts, the whip cream and cherry.  A church family, a church home, where you feel a part can add all that extra yummy to your relationship to God. 

Thankfully, it seems that we have found a new place to belong.

My husband grew up in a wonderful church here in town.  Many of the people that nurtured and loved him when he was young are still there.  We have been attending that church and we have felt a peace each Sunday that neither of us can explain. 

God’s not a racist

choices January 17, 2012 Leave a comment
No matter how you say it. God loves everyone. Every race. Every country. Every culture. Every one.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had an evident, genuine relationship with God that caused him to step out of the comfort of his every day ministry to reach more people for a greater cause. He knew God was not a racist.  Unfortunately, we still need great leaders like Dr. King because slavery, human trafficking, racism still run rampant here in America and all over the world. 
How are you helping to stop it?

Just the two of me…

choices, faith January 15, 2012 Comments: 3

Sometimes I feel like I have some sort of split-personality disorder.  I get jealous.  I get jealous a lot.  And then I repent about feeling jealous and am overcome with gratitude for what God has blessed me with. The insanity goes something like this, organized by different categories because I like to organize.

House: I have a lot of friends and family members who have bigger houses than we do, newer homes that don’t have mustard yellow countertops and gold laminate floors in their kitchens.  Houses that have more than 1 toilet.  Houses that they own – so they can paint or pave their driveway because they don’t rent.

Clothes: I have probably spent less than $300 on clothing for my 5 children this past year.  My kids wear hand-me-downs, consignment and yard sale clothes and shoes for the most part. And don’t get me started about me, I am sitting here in pajama pants that Chris bought me about 6 Christmases ago.

Experiences: My kids don’t go to Disney World. They don’t go to the movies every weekend. I don’t think they have ever set foot in West Town Mall.

Physical Appearance: I have friends who are all fit and trim, like I was for the first 25 years of my life. I also have friends who get their hair cut and highlighted on a regular basis. I may even know a few people who get manicures and pedicures.

So as I muse over all I don’t have, God has two ways of getting my attention.

There’s that still small voice you hear about “Annette, look at how I have blessed you with a warm, affordable home. Your children are clothed, I have allowed them to experience the important things in life.”

And there’s those times where he sort of smacks me on the back of the head with “ANNETTE. Really? Please. The majority of the human race does not know where their next meal or clean drink of water is coming from or how they will stay warm tonight.  Children all over the world do not own even one pair of shoes! Millions have never even heard MY NAME or will ever be able to come to MY HOUSE to worship.”

This is where I cry out and ask God to forgive me!

For I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my flesh. For the desire to do what is good is with me, but there is no ability to do it. For I do not do the good that I want to do, but I practice the evil that I do not want to do.                                  
                                                                                                                                   Romans 7:18 & 19

Sanctity of Human Life

abortion, choices, faith January 13, 2012 Leave a comment

This month is Sanctity of Human Life month.  I have written about my feelings on this subject in the past. 

My family and I picked up a baby bottle from church to fill with change that will go to support our local crisis pregnancy center.  That’s not enough though. 

We are open and honest with our children about why churches put out rows of white crosses.  We call it by it’s name – abortion. And we define what it is – a mother’s choice to kill her own child.  I don’t feel like we would be doing our children any favors by trying to sugar coat this subject. It is murder. It is against God’s law.  When we have these discussions with our children, though, we always explain that we are not to judge the mother, we are to love her, help her.  We brainstorm with them the “why.” Foster at age 7 said “Maybe because she didn’t think she could take care of a baby.” They get it. 

This is an election year and I am sure that the issue of abortion will be one of the political talking points.  But this isn’t a political issue. It is a heart issue. It is a faith issue. 

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.
                                                                                                   James 1:17           

Imagine

choices, homeschooling December 20, 2011 Comments: 2

The Road Not Taken

By: Robert Frost

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could


To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;


Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.


Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh


Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

As 2011 comes to a close, my husband and I are spending a lot of time talking and reminiscing on people and events that have passed in our lives.  The other night as our 4 kids screamed and played in the other room and I sat in the living room and nursed our new baby, Chris said to me “Imagine if we had stopped having children after Foster and Katie. We wouldn’t have Theodore. We wouldn’t have Parker. We wouldn’t have Jonah.”

And that got me thinking…

Imagine if I hadn’t given my life to Christ when I did.
Imagine if I hadn’t married this wonderful, faithful, hilarious, passionate man.
Imagine if I had decided to work outside the home.
Imagine if I had sent my sweet 5 year old away to be taught by others.

I feel as though I have taken the road less travelled and I do believe that when I come to the end of my days, that I will be able to say “…And that has made all the difference.”

Torn

choices, marriage, motherhood March 31, 2011 Comments: 3

I was really excited the first week of March.  The sun was out and there was so much to look forward to during the month.
However, just as my husband and I were leaving to celebrate our 9th wedding anniversary…my kids got sick.  Foster was first, with a nasty stomach virus.  It was really hard to leave him but my mom was here and I knew she would take good care of him.  Thank God for cell phones, I think I talked to her about 50 times between Friday and Sunday.  We went to Gatlinburg and stayed in a free condo, thanks to a good friend.  We ate out and shopped and had many uninterrupted conversations.  It would have been really perfect if it hadn’t been for the fact that I felt like my heart was torn in two.

Here’s the deal.  I love my husband with all my heart.  But my little boy was really sick.  And I couldn’t be here to hold him, to wipe his face with a cold cloth, to read his favorite book, to take his temperature and whisper prayers over him.  The reality is that my mom was taking wonderful care of him, and I was praying to a God who doesn’t care where I pray.  But to me, I was abandoning my child in his time of need. I was selfishly choosing time away over my duty and obligation as a mother.

So why didn’t we just stay home? Or come home early? Did I want to do that? Definitely.  But I had to stop and realize that what I was doing over the weekend was even more important than what I could have been doing for my child.  If you are a believer, if you try and do things God’s way, then you know His idea of priorities are lined up like this. Your relationship with Him, then your spouse, then your kids and then everyone else.  I could not get a peace about abandoning that priority.  I wanted my husband to feel that his rightful place is 2nd to God. Not just saying it, but actually showing him.  Because so many times as a  mother to young children, I am not able to do that.  I am either dealing with pressing, immediate issues – like puke on the carpet or toddlers sinking their teeth into siblings.  Or I am so tired and selfish that I put him off, again.

So I stayed, he did offer to bring me home several times.  I would cry and pray and God would say “I can take care of Foster.”  Oh…really? Sorry God, here I thought that if I wasn’t constantly in control of the things around my children that they would meet a terrible demise.

Turns out, we did have a great time, we connected and we shared and we showed one another that we are thankful that God brought us together.  I agree with my husband, he always tells me, “We’re a team right?”

We are a team. Thankfully, we have the greatest coach and leader, the glue that sticks us together is our Savior. Without Him, we would not have made it to 9 years.

being weird…

choices, homeschooling, parenting November 1, 2009 Leave a comment

I know most people go through times in their lives where they feel “weird”. Most of the time it happens when you are going through puberty and then hopefully you grow out of it. I have always been weird. Reading and my love affair with books would be a good place to start. I would literally have a book with me everywhere from the time I could read. I read anytime and anywhere and most of the time it wouldn’t matter what was going on around me – I could tune it all out. I was a public school student and that really got in the way of my love for books and reading. But I was quite the underachiever in formal education and so I would do the bare minimum of homework, you know scan the “reading” book story and answer the comprehension questions in quick fashion so that I could get back to the intriguing story I was involved in. Another way I am weird is that I detest rollercoasters. I just feel like God gave me feet, not wings so that I would stay here on His nice ground. I think rollercoasters are pointless. Those are, of course, just two examples of how weird I am. But now, as a grown-up, I am REALLY weird and just getting more weird it seems.
–I do not let other people raise my children (any age).
–I teach my children at home.
–I make my own laundry detergent.
–I take my children to church and teach them about God and His love.
–I spank.
–I use coupons.
–I clothe my children with yard sale, hand-me-downs, or clearance items.
–I let my kids get dirty, every day.
–I teach my children to say ma’am and sir.
–I expect obedience.
–I breastfeed my babies.
–I breastfeed my babies in public. (very weird)
–I enjoy spending time with my husband and my children.
–I respect my parents.
–I read my Bible and pray.
This list could go on and on. What is really neat is that I love being weird. For years, as an adolescent and into my 20’s I wanted to “fit in” and now the closer I grow to my Lord and the older I become I want to be more weird. In fact, I would love to be out and have people whisper as we leave “they are so weird”.
And that is pretty weird, isn’t it?
“Therefore come out from them and be separate, says the Lord”
2 Corinthians 6:17

making sense

choices, Foster, motherhood November 20, 2008 1 Comment

Last night, as the kids and I came in from church, Chris was busy packing for Foster’s big hunting trip. They leave this morning for Foster’s first overnight deer and turkey hunt. Foster, of course, was so excited. He wanted to help get everything ready and was bouncing from his daddy to me and back, full of questions. A week or so ago Foster asked my why Papaw and Daddy always talked about seeing deer “sign” in the woods. He said “Mommy, they are looking in the wrong places, why are they looking in the woods when I know what the deer “sign” look like, they are on the road and they are yellow with a picture of a jumping deer.” He was dead serious so I tried to explain what deer “sign” they were really looking for and at the same time contain my laughter and joy. Being able to just have him sit with me on the couch when these random questions pop into his little head is what it’s all about for me. I think about if he had been at school or daycare, trying to concentrate on what they are doing but having, what to him seems like a very important quandry, and not being able to share with anyone or get his question answered. Even if he tried to explain what he was talking about to a teacher or daycare provider, they aren’t there all the time so they are not able to understand the ideas and situations he talks about. I had this first “A HA!” moment when Foster just started talking. He was a little over 2 and we lived in our first house on Hemlock Ave. The memory is a funny thing because I can remember the ugly, teal station wagon I was driving and the gas station where we were getting gas, he was sitting in his car seat and goes “mommy theas a weefwection” My mind didn’t skip a beat, “your right buddy! That is a reflection!!” He was watching the reflection of sunshine sparkle on the ceiling of the car from something shiny in the front seat. And how did I pick up on this so quickly? Because a few days before, I had explained what a “reflection” was to him. I don’t remember that conversation at all – what I remember is that if anyone else had been with MY child, they would have dismissed that as 2 year old babble or said “what” to him a million times. SO in my “A HA” moment, I praised God that He allowed me to be home with the blessings he had given us. And not in a financial sense, but in a “made it clear when I sought HIS will” sense. Because, on paper being home looked CRAZY then and has pretty much since we started this adventure almost 5 years ago.