So, I Went Back to Church

...and I didn't get burned at the stake, or hit over the head with a Bible. I wasn't even asked to join a cult.

I just went.

Driving back to a place I didn't think I'd ever go again, we pulled our car into the parking lot and I took a deep breath. The pit stains were well-formed, and not going away even after angling my arms just so in front of the vents as I drove.

"I'm doing it for them. I'm doing it for them. They need to know Jesus at an early age, and know what I know, but don't understand. 

Also, there is beer in the fridge."

The church doesn't even look like the church I went to many years ago. And truthfully, this one isn't really the problem.

The Baptist church. That's my problem.

Bible-thumping, fear-mongering, shaming, judging. Those are the emotions and feelings that envelope that building. The kids not knowing or understanding God, and being told, "God will give up on you one day because you will screw up too many times for Him to forgive you." Apology letters being written by teens, who made a bad choice and got pregnant, and being forced to read them aloud during assembly. "Why is she apologizing to me? She didn't have sex with me. Is this normal? Do all Christians shame other Christians? Shit. I'm screwed."

There were good things too. The football games, the parties, the underground dances, the friendships, a select group of teachers. But chapel? Chapel was when I suddenly had cramps. Forget P.E. Chapel scared me more than an old fart with a stopwatch.

And here I was: opening myself up to all the shame, the guilt, the inferiority, the fear, the anxiety. Oh, the anxiety. The kind that a Xanax can't touch. Church was the C word. I wouldn't darken those doors until I had to - maybe a funeral. Maybe I could stand outside while they sang Ave Maria.

I could drop my kids in service and head to Starbucks. It wasn't my worst idea. I know other people who do it all the time. They'd get Jesus, and I'd get? Well, I wouldn't get the shame or the guilt. I was showing up to church after an 8-month hiatus. Surely, God was going to pillar-of-salt me for that kind of shit. My Bible teacher told me: He'd give up on me one day. Walking away from church was probably one of the best reasons to give up on me.

I texted the pastor's wife because she's normal.

"I don't want to do this, but I have to. For them."

"Come a few minutes after service starts. It's dark in there - like a night club. You don't have to talk to anyone, and you can sit in the back. Easy escape."

My kids betrayed me that night. They ran (read: bolted) for their classrooms. I carried them in my body for 9 months, and they left me in the dust to sit with a bunch of Judgy McJudgersons. Alone.

Jerks.

I texted aforementioned pastor's wife the entire time.

"Something is weird about the music."

"What's wrong?"

"No one was rolling around on the ground, and I didn't see one flag being waved." 

"If you've never been hit by a flag during worship, then, you've never been to a charismatic church."

Ok, so, the worship wasn't terrifying, but we have yet to get into a sermon momentarily where, surely, I will be told I am a scum bag who is going to burn. Wait for it...

I waited.

The shame never came.

Maybe next week.

Week two, Maddie asked Jesus into her heart, and proudly told me that she had "bathtized" herself in our tub not too long ago.

Eight weeks later, and I feel no shame. I have never once been made to feel less than. Quite the opposite. Daughter-of-The-King-level opposite. In fact, I ditch the kids faster to be sure I don't miss something. That feels weird.

I even asked about serving in some capacity.

"I know oils, I take good photos, and I'm sarcastic. What's the position for those gifts?"

Jesus & I? He & I are tight. God? If we had a Facebook, our relationship status would read, "it's complicated."
(And yes, I know about the trinity. Keep up.)

So, maybe God & I need some couples counseling for a while. Maybe I can see that He's not going to backhand me when I screw up. He wouldn't do that to my babies, so why would He do that to me? I guess...I guess He wouldn't.

Stay tuned as Andrea + MJJ Go To Church continues. Maybe I'll get hit by a flag next week.

* * *

Also, Josh works for a church in another town on the weekends, so we don't go with him because of distance. Don't ask.

Also also, I am grateful for my education and the private school I went to, so please don't mistake this for being ungrateful. Just have some junk to work out that was put there by some buttholes who worked there.

Giving Back | Operation Christmas Child

As a kid, each year, we were participated in this great program called Operation Christmas Child. While my Mom probably thought it was just floating in one ear & out the other, I have to say that this really stuck with me. I'll be the first to admit that, living where I do and how I do, I haven't an inkling of how bad it is in other countries. No clean water, no clean food, no medical advancements. I cannot imagine.

One of the main pillars I stand on in my parenting is making sure that my kids are grateful, thankful and giving. I want them to know that they are privileged, blessed, and spoiled as all get out. I don't even mean spoiled in the sense that they have cute clothes or the best toys - I mean, they have good, healthy food (minus the cookies for dinner the other night), clean, running water that comes out of the fridge at the perfect temperature, a 3000 sq ft house that is clean, dry and safe, they are healthy and when they aren't, we have a doctor's office right down the street. These things are so taken for granted, but I want them to know that this is not how the rest of the world lives. And hell, it's a great reminder for me, when I'm having them participate in things like this, that I am privileged and blessed and spoiled too.

This year, as Maddie is old enough to get it, we are putting together a shoe box full of things for a 5-year-old girl.

If you'd like to participate, please visit Operation Christmas Child's website for details on how to pack your shoe box and where to send it. I promise you that it will be such a great growing opportunity for YOU & YOUR KIDS.

Monday Ramblings

The very thought of having twins was a joke in our house for a while. We knew chances were increased with the fertility drug I would eventually take, but it wasn't high enough that it worried us. I just liked to freak my husband out. And I did. Many times. I would feign sickness & tell him it was the twins. When we bought our new car, I stood on the car lot & said, "Maybe we shouldn't get this one...it could be triplets!" You couldn't have surprised me more than that day than when I saw two babies on my ultrasound. I take that back: seeing 3 babies would have made me faint.

The initial shock set in, I stayed in bed sick for 5+ weeks. Fast forward to Christmas, and this house, which is filled with pink toys, pink clothes, & enough baby dolls to fill an entire store, is now going to have not one, but TWO boys. I think I have one sword leftover from Maddie's party. So, I mean, we're all set.

Things move a little differently in a twin pregnancy. Some people have no issues at all while the majority of moms are put on bed rest at some point in their pregnancy. Never mind the fact that you are now trying to get your house ready for TWO more children. You are now confined to your room with Netflix & yarn for an undefined amount of time. You've seen the posts - I've never been so bored in my life. I'm making coffee dates for everyday of the week just to talk to other humans. Watching Angelina Ballerina & talking to a 3 year old about dragons & princesses can only tide me over for so long.

When I was pregnant with Maddie, I was a machine. The day we found out she was a girl, I called my sister-in-law & we painted her room. Shortly after that, all of her furniture was put together & in place. I took a week, and cleaned out the basement from top to bottom. It was so organized it was ridiculous. I have far more to do to prepare for the twins, far more things to purchase, far more organizing, sorting & pitching to do, and here I sit. It's overwhelming. I'm excited, but my little OCD, ADD, anxious personality wants to get moving, clean closets out, figure out where things need to go, clean out the dumb basement again.

Funny how things get prioritized when you're pregnant. I really wanted to finish our room. I started & never followed through. Now, it's all about making sure we have everything the boys need. Like a place to sleep & clothes that aren't pink. And while it's overwhelming to think of all the things they need, I'm learning patience. I think. I think that's this week's lesson. Maybe it's a lesson in not actually being in control. And while I wallowed, stressed & had the come aparts about getting the things for the boys + the photography issue, someone gently reminded me that God cares about what I care about. And His plan encompasses the things that I care about. *Please remind me of this when I start freaking out in an hour.*

/end rant

I leave you with this funny video. I am so glad that I have my dear husband's reaction to my ultrasound. Thanks to Evka for capturing it!

Please ignore the blanket over the window. We have trailer park roots.

I'm sorry...how many babies are in there?

Yes, we're having twins. No, we did not plan that. Yes, there are twins on BOTH sides of our families. Yes, I took fertility drugs. No, I did not know we had twins in the family until after said drugs were swallowed. Thanks for leaving that bit of information out, Grandma.

I have been absent from this blog for 2 reasons. One is because one of the last blogs I wrote created a poop storm & burned my biscuits enough to take a step back. That was wrong. I don't care about other people's snarky attitude towards my snarkiness. Reason number two is because I was trying to keep the biggest secret of my life. I did ok. I slipped sometimes or just needed someone to know, so I told. I told more people than I wanted to. And every time it slipped out, I believed that it was a jinx - no, I don't believe in jinxes, but I believe in my crappy miscarriage history & how that has played out so well. I knew that people would ask questions (many of you did. So nosy.) because I had been vocal about taking fertility treatments. Naturally, people want to know the outcome. In all honesty, I believed if I told people before yesterday that it would like the other times where I'd have to make an announcement that, once again, my body rejected everything & I was miscarrying. Even as I type that, fear creeps in that it could still happen.

But enough of that. Twins are coming. In May. I laid in bed for about 5 weeks straight, sick as a dog, but I am feeling much more like myself these days. Yes, I am excited. Yes, I am utterly terrified. When we made the announcement, the reality of what life is going to be like, the reality that there are TWO growing babies inside of me, the reality that I am going to be as big as a barn hit me like a ton of bricks. And I sobbed. Hard. For 24 hours. The kind words, the texts, the offers of help & encouragement were overwhelming. I'm not confident that I can do this. In fact, most days, I'm sure I can't, but that's neither here nor there any longer. I don't have a choice. I have to do this. And I have to be good at it.

Now that my slight freak out is over, the excitement can begin. I have an ultrasound on Christmas Eve. My favorite doctor, Dr. P, is going to see if he can determine both genders. If he can, we'll have him write it down, seal it in an envelope & we'll open it Christmas morning with all of our other presents! Pray those 2 cooperate because what a rad Christmas present!

Thank you all for your kind words, words of encouragement, offers to help, prayers, love & support, and everything in between. They mean the world to me. I feel loved & supported like I never have. Thank you for sharing in our joy. Side note, you're always welcome to bring me a cookies n cream shake. Just sayin.

xoxo,
A.

5 Things to do to be Happier

Lately, I find myself unable to be too terribly happy about the things that bring me joy. Over the last year plus, we have had 3 miscarriages. Shortly after the last one, I had started having massive panic attacks again. On the flip side, I have an amazing 3 year old who makes us laugh all day, everyday. We have a home, we have a new car, we have each other, I have 3x the business I had last year with my photography. Things are good. Really good. Sadness, heart ache, and complete darkness just happen to be circling. Like buzzards. Waiting to suck me back into the black hole of an-Oreos-and-Grey's-Anatomy-marathon-of-despair. 

I wish that I could say that I made it through all of One Thousand Gifts, but I didn't. The writing killed me. I made it to the list. I started my own list. Then life happened. Hard. I lost my sense of gratitude. I was mad & frustrated, & I felt betrayed. Ironically, the betrayer wasn't God; it was me. I had/have forgotten how to enjoy life, enjoy the victories. The way that things appear now are "if this happens, then this can't happen." So, I spend my time worried about what isn't going to happen if xyz happens. Joy stealer. Happiness destroyer. My husband is usually the one to point this character flaw out. He's Mr. Optimistic. In the cup of life, it is always half-full. I'm not. I'm Mrs. Melancholy. Maybe that will change if some things change, OR maybe I could get off my white arse and find ways to enjoy my life in the here & now. My life does not look like I thought it would. In some ways, it has far-exceeded my expectations. In other ways, I feel like I got the short straw. That's my fault. I mean, the things that happened were out of my control, but how I responded wasn't.

After mulling over the wise words from my Old Owl (Josh) for the last week, I decided it was time to turn off Grey's, and try something else. Try having fun. So, maybe this is a reminder for you, but I'm preaching to the choir here. Most of these ideas come from the little girl sitting next to me, watching cartoons with her babies lined up in a perfect row.

1. Get off the computer & go play. Maybe you don't have kids. That doesn't matter. Get up off your rump, and go play. Play outside, throw a ball, play Monopoly with some friends. Go play. Do something that will get your endorfins pumping & get you giggling like a little school girl. Since installing wood floors in our house, Maddie & I love to put socks on, & go flying up & down the hallway. I'm usually the one to slam into the wall & hurt my hip, but we crack up the entire time we are flying across the house.

2. Treat yo'self. Not everyday, but maybe once a week. Treat yo'self with something indulgent. Maybe it's something big, but maybe it's just a $1.60 cake pop from Starbucks. It doesn't matter. Life is too short to be on a diet everyday of your life. Life is too short to be calorie-free, fat free, dairy free, soy free, gluten free, happiness free (unless you are on a special diet because of dietary restrictions). Not the happiness part, but the other stuff. 

3. Do something nice for someone else. For whatever reason, I can remember this when tragedy strikes or at Christmastime. It's easy for me to remember that people don't have enough when we are indulging in Christmas lattes (what is that?!) and buying gobs of presents for our family members. I'm easily reminded. But the people that don't have anything at Christmas, don't have anything on President's Day or Labor Day. Maybe you do something nice for a friend, but wouldn't it be awesome to do something for someone who really needed a little touch from someone who has an abundance? I want my girl to learn this now. That means I have to start NOW.

4. Take long, hot baths. Even my husband has joined this happiness train. The multimedia equipment that is required for his baths is slightly over the top, however, you can keep it simple. Get some bubble bath, a nice candle, a glass of wine juice & enjoy some quiet. Be sure & tell everyone that it's Mommy's quiet time. I'm sure they'll all respect your privacy & not bother you for a second. Pick a time when you are home alone or when everyone is in bed and/or pre-occupied. Soak your tootsies & enjoy the time alone.

5. Spend time with your loved ones. Stop taking breaks from them. We all need our Mommy breaks, but we also need QUALITY time together. Spend time talking after dinner; don't jump up immediately to get back to work or interneting. Do a movie night once a week. Pile into the big bed & snuggle up with a treat & watch a movie. In our house, it usually ends with the todd jumping around on the bed, asking to do something else, but hey! We tried! THEN, when the kiddos are down for the night, spend time with your spouse. Act like you like each other. Ask questions about their day, their job, their interests. A full tank begets a full tank.

Any more tips for being happier? Share them with me & the other readers!

Happy Sunday, peeps!
a.