Mom.

Mom,

On August 12, 2014 at 11:12 pm, for the first time in almost 32 years, I experienced the slightest notion of what it's like to be you.  Slight because I was heavily drugged and my uterus was sitting on my stomach, but nonetheless, I experienced "that feeling" for the very first time.  :)

"That feeling" was only the beginning.  From that moment, I have a newfound appreciation for you, and a desire to SOME DAY show you the gratitude and thanks that you truly deserve.

You gave up your financial freedom for us, thank you.

You gave up your free time for us, thank you.

You gave up your sanity for us, thank you.

You gave up sleep for us, thank you.

You gave up your schedule for us, thank you.

You gave up the last piece of cake for us, thank you.  In fact, you gave up the entire cake for us, THANK YOU.

You gave up worry free days and nights for us, thank you.

You gave up your youth for us, thank you.

You gave up "working" for us, thank you.

You gave up your sense of self for us, thank you.

You gave up YOUR LIFE for us, thank you.

"That feeling," although so slight in the beginning, grows into something so much greater than any love I could've ever imagined.  I have always been thankful for you, Mom.  I have always known that you were a wonderful mother, a great example, and the most selfless person on the planet.  What I didn't know was HOW you were all of those things.  How could you manage to devote your entire life so selflessly to your kids and your husband?  How could you never think twice about putting us before yourself?  How could you have made ends meet during the times we had so little?  How could you spend every free second at the ballpark or the gym or coming to school to sign the paper I had forgotten the night before?  How could you have been the epitome of a Godly woman even when we were so undeserving?  How could you strictly be our parent as children then become our best friend as adults?  All of these questions have gone unanswered for so long...until now.  And it's so simple.

Because God.  That's how.

Because God made you a MOTHER.  Because God shows His love through YOU.  Because God blessed Ryan, Chelsea and me when he allowed us to be YOURS.  Because God wanted to prepare us to be parents ourselves, first to our pups, and then to our babies.  He worked through you, and you showed Him to us.

Thank you, God, for our mom.

Thank you, God, for showing us the way through her.

Mom - You are my angel on earth.  You have always been my role model, my rock, my go-to.  You are my PERSON.  I am so thankful for all that you've done for me and for all you continue to do for me and for my family.  Tate is so lucky to have you for a grandmother, and I'm pretty sure he already knows that.  He loves that Lulu.  I PRAY that I am half the mother you ARE, because a fraction of you is better than than the whole of even some of the greatest moms.

I love you so much, and I hope you had a wonderful day.  You deserve only the best!

To my mother-in-law, my grandmothers, my aunts, my sister and sisters-in-law, my cousins, and all my mama friends out there - I pray that each of you have had a wonderful day and that you were celebrated as you should be.  You are doing a tremendous job, and I'm so grateful for your love and influence in my life and in Tate's.  Thank you for being the role models and inspirations I've looked up to for many many years prior to becoming a mama myself!  God bless you all, and Happy Mother's Day!

Love - Jen

 

Learning to love the wrinkles...

Lately I've been feeling down and out about my age.  It seems like the past decade flew by and sometimes I wonder where on earth the time went?  I look at pictures of myself and think WHOA where the Botox at???  These lines around my eyes are out of control.  I've got cellulite, a saggy bottom, a belly pooch, freckles that didn't exist before, thinning hair, and all kinds of other glorious age-telling issues that seem to have sprung up overnight.

The other night I was reading a blog about how we unintentionally influence our daughters' body image(s) by being so critical of ourselves.  Obviously I don't have a daughter - but I do have nieces, and the point is the same for all children, whether male or female, so I made a decision.  This is a big deal for me because I have always suffered from confidence issues - and PS - that is in NO PART due to my own parents' self-critical behaviors.  They desperately tried to teach me to be confident, but for some people it's more difficult than others.  That being said, self-esteem and confidence don't come naturally for some kids, so why should I make it even worse for Tate because of my own insecurities?

The decision I made is to be happy with me.  I'm going to be as confident as Fat Amy.  I will never look like Megan Fox (sorry, Milesy), and you know what?  I'm okay with that.  She's beautiful, yes, but does she get to live the life that I do?  No.  Granted, I have no idea what her life is like, but based on how fantastic mine is, it'd be hard to beat.

Here's the deal.  Miles and I love each other unconditionally.  We are happily married.  We have faith in each other and in God, and we have trust in our relationship.  We faced some struggles to have a child (and aged a bit in the process), but oh my gosh, Tate is worth every single bit of pain and heartache we went through, and I'd do it again a billion times.  We have a great house in the suburbs of Houston.  We are financially stable.  We are surrounded by fantastic friends.  We are beyond blessed with amazing families.  I have 4 living grandparents, and both sets are still married after 60+ years.  Our precious parents are our role models, Tate's grandparents, and they're still together as well.  We are very close to our brothers and sisters and our brothers- and sisters-in-law, and we have 2 beautiful nieces and a handsome nephew to love now, too.  We have cousins and cousins-in-law and extended cousins and cousins' babies.  We have aunts and uncles that treat us as they do their own.  We have Hambone.  We have our health, which is way too often taken for granted.  We watch Tate as he does something new every single day, and we get to see the world as we continue to travel every summer.  We love to listen to music, and Tate and I dance around the house and I quiz Miles over who sings this and who sang that.  Tate's laugh is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard!  We smell the honeysuckles outside and the chocolate brownies in the oven and unfortunately Hambone's farts as well.  We have tasted food all over the globe and are currently able to enjoy the diverse cuisine that Houston has to offer.  We are able to hold and touch our child; we give him hugs and kisses and we love on him and squeeze his cheeks and poke his nose and pinch his toes.

I suppose I'll get to the point now.  Clearly, I love my life.  I know that God has blessed me in ways that I don't deserve, and for that I owe Him constant appreciation.  Not "things are going my way at the moment" semi-appreciation, but complete appreciation.  Not "my tan diminishes the look of my cellulite, so I'll be happy" short-lived appreciation, but full on, 100% total and unconditional appreciation.  I will appreciate this body that He gave me because it carried Tate inside and out.  I will look at the poochy belly as a constant reminder of the fact that I lived 31 years and 11 months without my child and about 31 years and 2 months without the pooch (ehh, minus those college years, but that was a whole different kind of pooch), and that's a pretty fair trade off.  My saggy backside and the cellulite are because I love food.  Chocolate, peanut butter and anything Mexican to be specific.  I work out and I'm healthy, but I love good food and I refuse to give that up.  So cellulite it is, and that's okay because Miles still thinks I'm beautiful and I'm pretty sure Tate is going love me with or without the dimples.  We tell him all the time how adorable his dimples are, so before I tarnish his perception of my "displaced dimples," I'll let him think those are cute, too!  :)  And for Pete's sake, my legs are completely functional, allowing me to walk with Tate or run with Hambone or dance with Milesy.  How can I not be thankful for that?!

Then there are the wrinkles around my eyes.  Oh, the wrinkles.  They seem to become more and more prominent with each picture I take.  BUT - here's something new: If the wrinkles are a representation of all the smiles, the laughter and the love I've experienced in this life, then damnit, I don't want Botox to take those reminders away.  I should feel lucky that the wrinkles are so dramatic at just 32! ;)  Now come on, in the future I might fix a bit here or there...but for now, I'm learning to love the wrinkles.

So far, God has given me 32 years and 7 1/2 months on this beautiful earth...how fabulous is that?  Instead of whining about how old I am, I want to start basking in the blessings I continue to experience.  The last decade of my life has been my favorite, although the 2+ decades before that weren't too shabby either.  If trading in my youth a little at a time means getting to experience the smile of our baby, the hugs of my aging grandparents, the taste of a foreign delicacy (or, let's be honest, a Reese's egg or any other chocolate peanut butter treat), the delight on the faces of Tate's grandparents, or the celebration of another anniversary with my husband, then so be it.  This is not to say that there won't be times that I complain about feeling older or that I won't always aspire to be a better me.  It's not that simple, and this will be an ongoing struggle, but I'm inspired by a new goal.  Instead of wishing for "self-perfection," I will instead focus on the positives that stem from these perceived negatives, and I will thank God every day for the reminders that I have lived well, loved hard and laughed a LOT in this lifetime.

LOVE YOUR BODY CAMPAIGN
I love this campaign.  Take the time to watch this quick video and focus on ways that you, too, can love your body.  Let's make this a non-issue for our own children!