I Don't Want Her to Fail

photo credit: Victor Whipple

I was sitting on the couch the other day watching my baby play. She won't be a baby for much longer and I think there is a part of me that is mourning. Toddlerhood is coming towards us like a runaway train. Lately I've noticed some little quirks about my baby and wondered if something was wrong with her.

Is it normal for her to pull at her hair while shes's nursing? Why does she hit herself or bonk her head against the wall (albeit gently)? Why is she grinding her little baby teeth? Why does she have to put EVERYTHING into her mouth?? Shouldn't she have outgrown this by now?

As I was thinking all of these things, I realized I didn't want my baby to have any weaknesses. I didn't want to accept that she would struggle with things or have some silly idiosyncrasies. Why couldn't she just stay by perfect little baby forever?

But isn't that what motherhood is all about? It's about learning to let go and let God. It's about learning how to let our children fail from time to time and teach them how to get back up on their feet. It is about loving them unconditionally despite of imperfections.

When I was a kid, I wasn't the best ice skater. I repeatedly placed near the bottom, despite my best efforts. But my parents still loved me. They never used my talents on the ice as a judgement on how much they would love and nurture and cherish me. They loved me despite my failings on the ice. And because of this, the few successes I did have on the ice meant so much more to us. They allowed me to fail and succeed and I learned that they just loved me for being me.

So as my baby continues to grow up, I need to love her. She'll have struggles just like the rest of us. We will have to work through them together; some of them we will be able to fix and others we won't. But that doesn't mean I love her any less or that God isn't a God of miracles. Life is a miracle and I need to teach her every day to find those little blessings. So maybe I do want her to fail. Because it is through failing that we come to know who God is and we come to realize how strong we really are.

Hoping for a Rainbow

I'm really not sure if I ever thought this day would come. The day that I made it past 13 weeks pregnant without losing the baby. #miracle. I know I am not out of the woods yet, and honestly, when are we really? I am just trying to live every day with gratitude for the life inside of me, living with hope for the future. Part of me wanted to wait until next week, when I was past 14 weeks and officially in the 2nd trimester, but I couldn't wait any longer. I've been getting a little thick in the middle, which is getting more difficult to hide, and I feel like I haven't been able to be completely honest with friends when they would ask, "how are you doing?" All I wanted to talk about was how nauseous I was or how nervous I felt. So now, the news is out, whether or not you already suspected something was up. Seriously though, the 1st trimester is not for the faint of heart! There were many instances when I thought I would lose the baby, but dee...

Grandpa is Always Right | Gender Reveal |

I was hanging out in our rental apartment in Salzburg, Austria with my sister when my dad walked out of his bedroom and announced that I was having a girl. I was only 11 weeks along at that point and while I was wishfully hoping for a girl, I was preparing myself for a boy. His strong conviction of the gender of our child without any hints from an ultrasound surprised me. My dad seems to always be right about things, so I secretly hoped he was right this time too. Today during my scan, my favorite sonographer announced that we were having a girl. Grandpa is always right. I never imagined our family starting with a baby boy. I don't know why, but a baby girl seems to fit just perfectly. Now I just have to keep calm and stay healthy for 19 more weeks.

Learning to Speak Like an Alaskan

Denali in the background No one wants to feel like a newbie, so a common practice before traveling to a new city or country is to learn the language of that particular place. Well, when my Aunt Joan picked me up from the airport last December when I first arrived in Alaska, one of the first things she told me was if I didn't want to sound like a tourist, I needed to refer to Mt. Mckinley (the tallest mountain in North America, located some 120 miles south of Fairbanks) as Denali . Denali is the native Athabaskan name for the mountain, and means "The High One." So, from day number one in Alaska, I refered to that majestic mountain as Denali instead of the name I had learned growing up. This is just about what it looked like yesterday morning! Another thing I learned recently is how to say the temperature. I was saying "Gosh it's cold outside because it's negative 30 degrees." But luckily, a kind skating mom...

Tender Mercies

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