Today, one of my blog (and irl) friends, Angie, will be introducing herself to you. I'm so excited for her to be posting here. Her story is awesome, inspiring, and also so, so real. You know how I feel about real momma's, sharing their struggles. This past year they brought home their sweet Emery from China. She'll tell you a little about that, today. So give her a warm welcome.
can i stand up and say this mom gig is hard?
much harder than we give ourselves and each other credit for.
i’ll be the first to say i don’t have it all together. not even close.
i often struggle with the blog world because i wonder why on earth i can’t find time to create a new and fantastic DIY project like the super moms. why i don’t have incredibly organized closets with handmade nametags on coordinating bins. why i can’t seem to remember to clip coupons, make dinner ahead of time, and fall asleep in anything other than the clothes i wore all day. i shudder to think of the ways i’m lacking.
i have a feeling, i’m not the only one.
pinterest (my favorite obsession) doesn’t help. although i’ve made my fair share of pinterest wonderfulness and fun kid crafts in real life, i often pin in dreamland. like deliciously perfect dinner menus for the perfect evening with friends under a handmade canopy with handmade place settings and handmade lanterns with handmade mosquito deflecting juice inside. my handmade pies would coordinate with the handmade table runner and accent the handmade take-home gifts carved effortlessly out of lemons. sounds pretty easy. other moms do that, right?
in reality, i’m frazzled. dinner isn’t perfect, i always forget bread, napkins, dessert or all three. i’ve snapped rudely at someone (probably my husband) and neglected several someone’s who’ve been asking for a snack or a drink for at least an hour.
this mom gig is hard.
but often, my expectations for myself make it harder.
my favorite blog posts aren’t the ones that make me wish i was a better than i am…they are the ones that inspire me because i realize other mom’s struggle just like i do. maybe not in the same exact ways…but let’s be real…struggling is a given. it also means you’re normal. it’s supposed to be hard because it is, by definition, the hardest job around. it has the most at stake. it is of the highest value.
we can stand up and honor this thing called motherhood by releasing judgment of each other…but especially of ourselves.
as i share my story, i feel as though i need to put it out there…the realness. i have pretty pictures and i’m super crazy about these little people i have been blessed to raise. but i’ll never shy away from the fact that each day is just as much of a challenge as it is a sincere blessing…and the way i choose to bend my attitude makes all the difference in the world.
and thus, i end my soap box.
we are the weldons. a family of 5.
i am a writer and photographer. i’ve been known to do crazy midnight sewing, shamefully tivo episodes of The Real Housewives of OC and enjoy a glass of wine (or two).
i have 2 wild and delightful boys (foster 5, rowan 4) and a spunky little lady, emery (turns 2 this month!). being a mom is awesome, humbling and scary. i’m married to a handsome carpenter-turned-businessman who is the love of my life. oh and i love Jesus. with all my heart.
our most recent family member has stolen our hearts in a way i can only describe as mesmerizing.
meet miss emery.
she’s quite amazing, but that goes without saying. (read about her story: here)
sometimes i forget she didn’t come to us the way the boys did. i forget the years of paperwork and painful waiting. the horrible, sinking feeling that my child is quite possibly alone and hurting. kind of like the way i forget how agonizing it is to be 9 months pregnant or how horrible contractions actually are.
love is blinding in the best of ways.
when emery came home this past august, i had no idea one little girl could change each of our lives so deeply. all three of my children are a blessing of which i am wholly unworthy. but this small wonder of a girl...i cherish in a way i didn't know existed. the saying "born in my heart" has never felt so true.
she has rocked our world with love, and more importantly, all things girly and pink : )
(these photos were taken the day we met in china, july 25,2011)
i’ve blogged a lot about her lovely lips. these lips that we adore.
i won‘t go into it all now (take a peek at some past posts), but there is something incredible that happens when you allow yourself the chance to love something different. unusual. out of the norm.
it changes you in a way that is so fantastic, you want everyone else to experience that kind of change. an unexplainable shift. a knowledge that something like a cleft isn’t really all that bad. in fact, it’s charming and beautiful and contains all of the best in the world.
it isn’t a birth defect. my child isn’t defective. in fact, she’s quite healthy, thank-you-very-much. and whitty and funny and sensitive and fantastically beautiful.
loving a cleft is to have the opportunity to see God’s handiwork in a new and treasured way…i shamefully sigh to know i didn’t see before i met her.
hello world. clefts are beautiful, FYI.
i’ve written about the difficulty i’ve experienced walking this journey. i’ve done my best to be real. to not sugar coat everything. anyone considering adoption needs a dose of reality because it’s not for weenies. but then again, maybe it is. i’ve found that in my weeniest (haha, funny word) moments, God allows me the opportunity to see just how strong He is.
i’ve heard my share of…
“oh wow…good for you. what an incredible family you are. thanks for doing that. (said with sympathetic tone, directing obvious gaze at emery) what a lucky girl she is. i wish more people were like you.”
in the post office. target. church. the park. our neighborhood. family reunions. ritas.
well meaning, i’m sure.
but i want to scream, “are you freaking kidding me??” (danger. boiling lava exploding in my brain. may. lash. out.)
don’t you dare tell me how great we are. how “wonderful we are for doing that.”
we are the blessed ones!!
she’s my daughter, for pete’s sake.
lady in the grocery store, don’t thank me for adopting my own child. would you thank me for giving birth to my bio kids, too? not a chance.
i’m not wonderful. i’m just her mom.
(ahem. sensitive, much?)
i’d like to tell that lady in the grocery store that we have tantrums and eating struggles and night terrors. we’ve been to countless doctors and specialists and therapies and gotten more knock-down-screaming-blood draws than i’d care to remember. my daughter’s been through surgeries that would give you nightmares.
but we’ve also been able to love deeply. to care for a family member in their deepest and darkest pain. to love each other when the days felt heavy. to show true compassion to one another. to sit and wait patiently for God to bring healing. to share in the pain and sadness abandonment. to see our boys captured by love for their sister, and experience at a very young age, the beauty of adoption.
walking this road as a family is the greatest treasure of my life. i can see God all over us…even on days when my house is a mess, i haven’t pinterest’d anything in weeks, there is unfolded laundry for days, and i may or may not have showered in recent memory.
i see God’s compassion for me when i fail as a mom. when my attitude stinks. when i forget just how blessed i am. God is faithful.
and there’s nothing quite as wonderful as that.
so that’s me, in a nutshell.
(albeit slightly wordy, overwrought with pictures of my kids, and apparent anger issues about being “wonderful” - haha)
i’d love to hear what has been the highlight of your past year and what’s been the biggest challenge. for me, sometimes they go hand in hand...
(ps. i have read katie’s blog for years. not just because she’s an excellent writer (love her witty banter and brutal honesty), but also because i know her in real life. and by the way, you should know, she’s just as cute, witty, sweet, generous and beautiful as she appears to be : )