Errand day!

A few weeks ago my parents gave us a van, and we were a two-car family finally. That lasted two weeks, then I wrecked our first van, so we’re back to being a one-car family until Josh has a saturday free to work on it (that should happen in about 5 years). Having a second car makes life so much easier, but we’ve shared one car for so long, I don’t mind it–much. The one thing that’s stressful about it is having to compress all of our errands into one day.

We left the house about 8:30 this morning trying to have good attitudes. Honestly, the kids are pretty good sports about errands. After several embarrassing grocery store meltdowns (and that’s just me), I’ve learned a few tricks to cope with grocery store stress.

1. Bribes. This morning it was McDonald’s sausage biscuits and orange juice for breakfast. It’s a lot to ask a 4-year old and a 21-month old to spend three hours running errands, so I figure they should get something fun out of it. If they go into it feeling like they’re being punished, then the whole morning is shot.

2. Rewards. If they obey they get to pick out one treat. This also stops Emmeline from asking for every single thing on the shelf. Today she picked ice cream, which we ate for lunch as soon as we got home.

3. Involvement. Emmeline gets into trouble when she’s bored, so I try to find ways for her to help.

4. Low expectations. This is the most important one for me and also the most difficult. I tend to get upset about every little thing. Then I get wound up and lose my temper, so I have to constantly remind myself to let things go. I try to go in expecting Gareth to scream and Emmeline to run off a couple of times. But as long as no one gets kidnapped or run over by a car, and they don’t pull all the food off the shelf, it’s probably not a big deal.

5. Avoid the juice aisle.

On Becoming a Mother

I know Mother’s Day is a struggle for many women. That’s not something I can empathize with; the Lord has called Josh and me to walk a different path. Motherhood took me by surprise. I would never compare my struggles with that of someone who has experienced infertility, miscarriage, adoption, or the death of a child. Still, when I found out I was pregnant with our first child, I didn’t take the news well.

When we got pregnant with Emmeline, we had just moved to Nashville, were living with my in-laws, and were only 50 percent employed. (I had a job; Josh was looking for work. Did you know Theology degrees aren’t super marketable?) We had only been married a year, and I had visions of us being newlyweds for a while longer and enjoying the freedom that came with not being responsible for any human being beside myself. The Lord immediately provided a job for Josh and a good apartment, but while I could acknowledge the blessings in my head, I didn’t feel happy about any of it. I get very depressed while I’m pregnant. Two kids later (and free of all pregnancy/baby hormones), I’m ok saying that out loud. At the time, I had no idea what was happening to me, but I felt angry, sad, anxious, and every other bad feeling–constantly. I wanted to be happy and enjoy my first pregnancy, but I couldn’t. I also didn’t have any friends, since we were new to Nashville, so I was homesick. I missed my family–but especially my mom–a lot. 

I was also working my first full-time 8-5 job. I had a very kind, sympathetic boss, but customer service isn’t something I enjoy nor am good at. At one point (about 7 months into my pregnancy) I showed up at Rob’s office in tears and cried, “I’m just so tired of everyone being mean to me all the time!” He found me projects to do off the phone for the rest of the day. I’m still thankful for that. Man, did I need the break. 

And then on top of that I struggled with a lot of insecurity about becoming a mother so young. Innocent comments like, “You’re how old? That’s so young!” were not meant to be mean, but they bothered me. I worried (bear in mind: crazy depressed pregnant lady hormones) that I was becoming old before my time. Other people my age were staying out late or tanning in their itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny yellow polka dot bikinis, and I had swollen ankles and stretch marks. I felt like I’d never be able to identify with people my age and I’d never be able to make friends. For years I tried to avoid telling people my age because I was worried they wouldn’t like me. Of course, putting it in writing makes it seem ridiculous, but it bothered me for a long time. 

Then Emmeline was born. My beautiful, perfect, bright orange, jaundiced little carrot baby. I never knew I was capable of feeling such incredible love for someone. It gave me a new appreciation for Christ’s love. I never wanted to put her down. But my depression also got worse.

If you’re ever around me after I’ve had a baby, let me warn you–when I get postpartum depression, I never want to harm my baby, but I hate the rest of the world with a fiery passion. All of a sudden it feels like the whole world is trying to take away my precious little newborn. (After Gareth was born I actively disliked Emmeline for several weeks.) I need supportive, loving family and friends around me, but I don’t want them around me. This ought to give you a new appreciation for my long-suffering husband. 

On my first Mother’s Day, Emmeline was 3 days old. I hugged my mother goodbye that morning and then spent the rest of the day desperately trying to get a very sleepy, jaundiced baby to wake up and eat something. That Tuesday she was admitted to Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital with jaundice levels of 25 (for reference–when jaundice reaches level 29 it causes permanent brain damage. God protected our sweet, strong-willed baby girl.)

As much as I’d like for Mother’s Day to be a special day where I get served breakfast in bed and receive adorable handmade gifts from my precocious children, that never happens. Josh and I fight. I yell at the kids. We get to church late and with very unholy attitudes. I forget to call my mom. Because parenting isn’t easy. As my mom reminded me, “Children are a blessing, but not an unqualified one.” I’m thankful for my babies and for the trials of pregnancy and parenting. I don’t always enjoy it, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  

Emmeline’s 4th birthday

Squishy little newborn Emmeline

My big girl–Easter 2013

Yesterday Gareth acted sick all day. We blamed it on the weather. Today we all woke up feeling kinda icky. It could probably be chalked up to getting busy and forgetting to drink water yesterday (ruh-roh), but we cancelled Emmie’s birthday pictures just in case. She was, of course, in tears. And then she was in tears when I told her we’d have to wait to make a birthday cake together. There should be a rule against showing any symptoms of illness on your birthday. No fun. As a consolation prize, we rented the newest Barbie movie, “The Pink Shoes.” It was a big hit with both my shoe-loving children. Gareth kept looking at me and saying, “Uh-oh! Shoes!”

For the record, the top words in Gareth’s vocabulary are as follows:

1. Shoes

2. Juice

3. Chew (what he calls food)

4. and Oo-oo (trains)

So at any given moment we’re not sure if he’s in need of food, drink, fashion accessories, or choo-choo trains.

But back to his big sister–she has grown into such a sweet, sensitive, brilliant girl. She talks all the time. She has big emotions about little things. And today in the car (Whether the kids were sick or just faking it, great Craigslist deals wait for no toddler) we had this conversation:

“Mommy, the clouds are blocking out the sun.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Umm…it makes me feel…it makes me feel…nervous.”

“Are you nervous because you think there might be a storm?”

“Yeah. I don’t like big storms. They’re really scary!”

“You know what I think about when there’s a thunderstorm? I think about how God made the thunder. God is bigger and stronger than the thunder, and God loves me and you and Gareth and Daddy. Isn’t it great that such a big, strong, God loves us and wants to protect us?”

“Yeah! And when there’s a thunderstorm I think that God is stronger than the thunder and He can push it away!”

She loves to read, talk about Jesus, play dress-up, and shove her brother’s head into the wall/floor/her fist. She recently figured out, as she put it, “Mommy and Daddy have a LOT of brothers and sisters, and I only have one!” And ever since she learned that, she’s been feeling cheated on the sibling front.

She’s extremely stubborn, and she and I drive each other crazy at least 100 times a day. She also loves to do “big girl” things like having “asponsabilities.” But she will frequently decide that babies get away with more, therefore she should be a baby, therefore she should stop peeing in the potty/talking with real words/obeying her parents. We had a serious talk about this recently and I told her some of the things babies don’t get to do–like go to the Adventure Science Museum. That scared her back into pee-peeing in the potty.

She’s a treasure, and for good or ill, every day with her is an adventure. We love this little girl who made us parents.

Happy birthday, Emmie!

Pomp and Circumstance

Josh gets his Masters degree tomorrow. I’m incredibly proud of all his hard work. He’s got a few prematurely grey hairs, some stress-induced high blood pressure, and more sleep deprivation than he could ever catch up on, but now he has a postgraduate degree to go with all of it!

The scary part (for me, at least) is that he’s probably not done with school yet. For a while, it looked like he’d want to be done after this, but He’s always dreamed about getting his PhD. This means GREs, application fees, and if the world of academia knows what’s good for itself, hopefully a fully funded doctoral program that could potentially move us out of state.

I told Josh thinking about the possibility of moving to do more school makes me feel scared-but-excited-and-nervous-but-I-don’t want-to-overthink-it-and-count-my-chickens-before-they-hatch-but-I-also-want-to-prepare-my-heart-for-the-possibility-of-leaving-my-friends-and-family-and-home-and-maybe-even-our-beloved-dog.

When we got engaged people often asked us why we didn’t want to wait until we were through with school to get married. I told them Josh would probably never be through with school, so if we waited we might never get married. I still stand by that. Lately I feel like the Lord has been trying to get it through my head that we are probably going to be in the “poor college student” phase of life for a while yet, so I better get used to it and stop coveting HGTV homes and expensive beach vacations.

Honestly though, as exhausting as it all is, when I listen to him talk excitedly about whatever theoretical, philosophical, psychological thing he’s reading and how he wants to change the world (or at least a little corner of it), I’m thankful I get to be married to this hardworking, godly, genius of a man.

I would mention our two very adorable kids and what a blessing they are, but I feel like I’ve gushed too much already. Everyone in this house has a very large ego, and if I’m not careful and I compliment them too much their brilliant minds might explode.

Playground fun

I’m posting from my phone while the kids play at a park we found close to our house. They get so much of my attention, it’s nice to be able to go somewhere they can play without wanting me to watch them the entire time. At home if I ignore them something usually gets destroyed (or someone gets bit). Here they’re happy, and I’m happy. It’s a win-win.

Work it, girl.

My parents gave us a van. It’s been a huge blessing for me and the kids! It’s nice to be able to go to one place and come home without feeling pressured to run ten errands and do something fun all in one day. We’ve been going to the YMCA every day this week. It turns out the best motivation to exercise is an extremely social daughter who constantly begs to go to friends houses/fun places/anywhere there’s a crowd. I promised her we could go to “the fun place” (i.e. Y Play) every day for an hour, or in Emmie time, two Team Umizoomis. That results in me making myself exercise until my time is up. It’s a nice reward, having a daughter who is calmer at home and isn’t constantly hanging on my leg trying to have conversations with me. 

Oy Vey.

These last few months have been miserable in the Krebs house. Josh is almost…almost…about to graduate with his Masters degree. But getting to that point has been pull-your-hair-out stressful. We haven’t had a lot of love in our hearts for each other. As Josh says, “We only say I love you at the end of phone calls.” Practicum is not for the fainthearted. Josh’s practicum supervisor, who was also young married with kids during his graduate studies, told Josh (9 months ago, when we first started this crazy roller coaster) that he remembers how tough it was to get through that last year, and he has no desire to do it again. Amen. But in truth, I’m very proud of Josh’s hard work…heck, our hard work–because I feel like it’s been a team effort getting him to the finish line. Here’s hoping there’s some normalcy (and maybe a vacation) at the end of the tunnel. 

Also our air conditioning broke.