A Little Non-Advice

"Things don't get better on their own and things don't go away by themselves."

 Just a few words of wisdom my dad gave me yesterday. He always says, "I don't give advice.. I just tell you what I would do." Whatever he wants to call it, it's always good info to remember.

We were having a chat about life and crazy curve balls that come our way when he gave me the little tidbit. He also always follows it up with, "An old man told me that one time." Interesting.

During our chat, we were discussing priorities and how everything changes once you bring a baby into the picture. For the past (almost) 26 years I've been the absolute center of my parents' lives. When my now-husband came into the picture, he was right there in the limelight with me. They've always adored him, it's impossible not to. Now that we have a little girl of our own, everything shifted to her - and that is exactly how it should be. We plan our all and every days around this baby and her needs. That's just how it works. It's the new normal, and it's pretty awesome! Thankfully, I'm blessed with a fantastic husband/father who is right there with me.

Thinking about the conversation with my dad and managing priorities really opened my eyes. For me, it's - God, Husband, Children. In that order.
First of all, I have to make sure I have a firm foundation - a solid relationship with my Heavenly Father. Without him nothing else will work.
Then comes the man I married. When I took on the job (it is a job) of being his wife, I promised to always build him up and strengthen him. I will always believe in him and support him the absolute best way I can. And if I can't figure out how, I'll pray for direction and clarity. But I'll never stop trying. And if I don't have a strong foundation with him, our child (and possible future children) will suffer.
Which brings me to our child. The blessing entrusted to us by the Lord, so we can love her, teach her, guide her and help her in every part of her life - especially when it comes to building a relationship with God. That's the most important thing we can teach her. Her daddy and I will always open our hearts to her and pray over her that she receives Jesus as her Lord and Savior and invites Him into her heart. It's the biggest job we'll ever have, but we're ready.

If I'm not on the same page with God, I can't ever be on the same page with anyone. And if my husband and I can't be on the same page, our daughter won't have the parents she deserves. Everything is connected, like an engine.

Sometimes you have to take your car to the shop to help you see what the problem is. We'll just call my dad my mechanic.

He left me with this little piece of (not) advice. "If you can change it, change it. If you can fix it, fix it. But if you can't control it, don't worry about it." If other people's priorities aren't in order, it's not my job to fix it. All I can do is seek guidance from the Man upstairs on how to handle it. 

When I laid down last night, I read my devotional and also skipped ahead to today's. Yesterday's was about how worry is a form of unbelief, and direction on how to handle things can only be found when you give it up to God. Today's was about how people can't be "fixed." They have to seek His face with a teachable spirit. Humbling.

 

By the way, the "old man" that has told my dad all this good non-advice over the years... I'm starting to think he was sitting in the car next to me.

Those Days

It's days like today that something inspires me, so I feel compelled to write about it. Today, it's the bra strap I found on the floor at work by the public computers.

Being a librarian sounds like the easiest, most laid-back job ever, and often is. But then there are those days.

I don't blog about work very much, because I'm more inspired to blog about life as a mom or an LEO wife, but today's the day. Don't get me wrong- I totally love my job! I enjoy helping people, working with the public, my preschool story time every week, summer reading programs, etc. It's awesome. But then every once in a while I'm confused about what my job even is. So let me write out a librarian's job description. And I'll briefly explain each role, to help paint the picture for you.

Book checker-outer/finder/looker-upper.
           * No, I don't know what book that was that you saw in here a few days (months) ago with the green on it and the yellow writing, that you thought you saw on that shelf with the blue sign. I have no idea what you're talking about. (Meanwhile, I wonder, 'when has there ever been a shelf with a blue sign?')

Fax machine operator.
           * Yes, I can fax those papers for you. You and your freshly manicured nails digging around your Michael Kors handbag, looking for your iPhone 6 so you can find the fax number..... to the food stamp office. Then complain because it cost a dollar per page. ('Get in your Mercedes and go home.')

Computer operator/teacher/and apparently super hacker, too.
           * Yes, I can let you get on a computer. No, I can't log into your email and print out your flight itinerary for you. Nor can I log on to your work website to help you find your pay stubs.
           Side Note: You wouldn't believe the people who yell at me because they can't log into their email. The problem? The email/password don't match or the password is incorrect. Hang on while I look in my big book of passwords that has ALL PASSWORDS EVER USED EVER. Sadly, we don't have that book in circulation.

Cashier.
            * If you owe money in fines or for copies you made, please pay me in cash you pull out of your wallet. When you pull that damp $5 bill straight from your mid-day August bosom, girl please. A bra is no place for bills... or nickels (YES, I SAID NICKELS). Girls, please.

Therapist.
            * I'm very grateful to (apparently) have this demeanor where complete strangers feel like they can tell me anything. I try my best to smile a lot, and offer encouragement when I feel people may need it. But I really don't need to know why you're printing out pictures of women off of your 'Tagged' account. That's your business, And don't tell me where you're meeting them later. I don't want that on my conscience. And no, I don't know where you should go for dinner.

Then there are some that don't fall under any category. The ones that leave you a tad perplexed.

Like when a man asked me, "How do you get upstairs? The stairs?" Yes, that's correct.

Or, "I'm looking for that book 'Tequila Mockingbird' by Maya Angelou." WHAT.

Or when a patron runs up to the counter from the computers and asks me to spell the word 'uncensored." (?!)

And when patrons ask for our WiFi password, and I have to spell 'l-i-b-r-a-r-y' for them because that first 'R' never seems to find its way in there.

Or when a patron decides a used feminine product would make a good bookmark. USED.

And then there are those days each week when Story Time rolls around, and I'm reminded why I enjoy my job so much. Those smiling faces of kiddos eager to read a book, learn Spanish words, sing songs, play with puzzles and make a craft with me.. the best.

21 DF Challenge

There's no magic pill - just hard work. You can get what you want by being lazy.

I wanted a change. I wanted a healthier lifestyle for me and my family. I wanted my body to get the proper nutrition it needs to thrive each day. I wanted to feel better - physically, mentally and emotionally. That's why I took control over my eating habits.

I've tried ways to get in shape before. Pilates and spin (which I still love), workout equipment from Walmart, and that terrible 'Fit Into Your Jeans by Friday.' Yes, the Kim Kardashian one. What was I thinking? Bored college kid.

When you're breastfeeding, you literally eat all day long to keep your supply up so you can give your baby the milk she needs. But when you stop breastfeeding, then what? Then what's you're excuse for that milkshake at 3:00 a.m.? I needed some self control! Please don't get me wrong- a woman who just had a baby is BEAUTIFUL! Everything about making, carrying and having a child is incredible and amazing and fantastic and perfect. But mamas know how it feels to look a lotttt differently than you did in that wedding photo where your husband has his hands wrapped around your tiny 31-inch waist while you two are slow dancing to Jack Johnson. It can be a heavy-on-your-mind feeling.

I started my 21 Day Fix journey on March 2nd, and completed it on March 22nd. It's a three week program that's based on clean eating, portion control and daily exercise. So I filled up my colored containers each day, and tried to eat everything I was supposed to take in in a single 24-hours. That's a lot of food! The trick is, eating the right amount of the right things. I was only allowed (with my caloric intake) two yellow containers per day, which is considered carbs. Before the program, carbs made up probably 80 percent of my daily diet. Who knew I needed 4 servings of meat and three (LARGE) servings of vegetables each day? Now I do! And that's only a drop in the colored container bucket.

I was so surprised at the results I was seeing! I'm not big on photos of my stomach, but I'm stepping out of my comfort zone to show what a difference eating right and exercising regularly has made..
Yikes. Here goes..

March 2, 2015. Four months postpartum.

March 22, 2015. Three weeks later.

I may have light purple stretch marks across my stomach and I may have to re-position myself while sleeping because that pesky rib (that used to be in the correct place) sticks so far into the mattress it hurts to breathe, and I may have dark circles under my eyes because I chose to forego that nap while everyone else was napping because I had little things to take care of, like washing bottles or ironing uniforms... all these things for the rest of my life. But I'll feel good about myself because I've made a great change. A change that's good for the body and soul.

Window Smiles

I'm proud of myself. I may have fallen apart at the end, but I did it and I'm proud.

I picked my girl up from daycare after leaving work early one day this week. I decided it was time to do what I should have already done.

Since my Mimi passed away almost two years ago, I haven't been by her old workplace - the place (and people) she loved so much. After her passing (and as I've mentioned in a previous post), I heard countless people say, "That drive up window at Buy-Rite will never be the same!" It's not. And it never will be. That was her favorite place to be. Greeting people and helping them each and every day. She loved it and she was great at it. She's left some gigantic shoes to fill.

I pulled up in the parking lot at the drug store and stared at the window. I knew that when I walked in, she wouldn't be standing there. I wouldn't see that smile that spread across her whole face as she said, "There's my Rachel Suzanne!" It was always the same greeting, and it never got old. I can still hear those sweet words in my head. I could never forget that voice filled with love. But this time would be different. It would be the first time I entered that store since she passed. Was I ready? I had to be. I wanted to take my sweet baby girl to see the ladies my Mimi loved working with. 

When I walked in, I was overwhelmed, but I held it together. For a minute. Until Ms. Kia was holding her behind the counter and someone drove up to the window. 

"Are y'all giving those away today? She is precious!" - said the woman in the truck.
"This is Mrs. Joyce's great grandbaby!" - Kia

Complete silence. A head nod. Followed by, "So that's Rachel's baby! She is a doll!" It made me giggle that this woman knew who I was. Of course she did. You couldn't get to know Mimi without getting to know me, too.

Several other people walked in the store and heard the same thing - "This is Mrs. Joyce's great grandbaby!" Kia later looked at Harper and said, "Mrs. Joyce would be having a fit over you right now! She would eat you up!" 

She absolutely would. What I wouldn't give to see it.

It warmed my soul to see my girl behind that counter 'working' the drive-up window, greeting customers with a big Harper smile, just like her Mimi did. 

Bittersweet.

Black Badge

If you're a part of the blue-blood family, you just get it. You know too well the uncertainties of each day. Your life is the definition of unpredictable.

For those who aren't, the world just keeps spinning, without missing a beat. Meanwhile, I'm at my desk at work wondering what the hours of tonight have in store for my family. Why hasn't he called me in three hours? I wonder if he's eaten today. What if something happened. Lord, I hope he walks through that door tonight.

It never ends.

Days like today don't make it any easier. Days when I'm cooking breakfast and turn around to see my husband dressed for work - boots polished, collar brass in place, vest strapped on tightly.. and that awful black stripe across the badge he wears so proudly. I've seen him wear it three times. Today, in honor of Sgt. Kerry Mitchum of LPD, in September 2013 in honor of Cpl. Mike Stockwell with OBPD, and then there's the first time I ever saw it. November 2012 in honor of our very own Scott J. Ward. Every time I see it, it starts all over again - the queasy feeling in the lowest part of my stomach, followed by a knot in my throat so heavy you're not really sure you can squeak out a single word. The dread, the worry, the sadness. Picturing a family in mourning, just as mine was - and still is - after losing someone so incredible so soon. The complete rock-bottom feeling you get when you think of what's ahead for so many in order for them to move forward. 

When my husband and I attended National Police Week 2013 in Washington D.C., we were both so eerily quiet during our last night there. While laying in bed, we were both thinking the same thing and neither wanted to say it. 

There are so many officers on duty right now whose families will be here next year. 

It gives me chills.

Isn't it unsettling to know that these men and women finish their training at the police academy and receive their agency's uniform, complete with a thin, black little piece of fabric to go over their badges in case one of their own is killed in the line of duty. Unbelievable. 

That tiny little piece of fabric is a huge symbol for the brotherhood that is law enforcement. When one hurts, all hurt with them. I've never seen anything like it. 

My husband and I have friendships that stretch across the U.S. because of this crazy law enforcement life we live. They're friends who mail Christmas cards with pictures of their precious families on them, friends who send us a basket full of monogrammed goodies for our beautiful little girl, and friends who call every year on November 23rd just because they understand. For those dear friendships, we are incredibly grateful. 

I didn't choose this chaotic life, but I certainly wouldn't trade the family that comes along with it.

Daycare is A-OK care

My child goes to daycare, and that's okay with me.

That's the plan, and it's been the plan since before she was born. Of course I'd love to be financially able to stay home with her everyday. And I could, if my husband and I wanted the bare minimum for our family. But we'd rather live comfortably and be able to give her our absolute best.

I hear such strong opinions about how daycare is bad, and see the stay-at-home moms post their feelings on social media about crazy daycare workers who abuse children. No, if I didn't know my child's caregivers, I wouldn't leave her there. I would never leave her with a complete stranger. Trust me, they'd have to pass a background check and a few (dozen) surprise visits from the hubs. But I do know the fantastic ladies who take care of my sweet girl each weekday, and they're playing a huge part in her life.

I feel like keeping her at home with me would be doing her an injustice. Children are such sponges. They absorb everything, even at the youngest age. I want her to learn from people - not just her father and me. She has to listen to people, communicate with people, respect people outside the walls of our home. That's something she has to learn by example and by practicing it herself. Seeing other children mind their manners, obeying adults when she's told to do something and learning to share/speak/listen/behave/have confidence in herself.. just a few things I hope she finds at daycare. 

Yes, she will learn all of these things at home with her daddy and me. But to see her blossom and grow with the help of others... such an amazing thing. I want her to be a leader. I want her to believe she can move mountains. I want her to be fierce. I want her to want to do good. I want her to believe in herself. As her parents, we will always build her up. But a little push from others goes a long way.

To the stay-at-home moms who have it all figured out, that's awesome! Do what works for you! But I have to admit, pumping milk every day - three and four times a day - at work to make sure my girl gets what she needs.. that makes me feel like quite the superhero.

My child goes to daycare, and that works for me.

Diaper Doody

A man at work today asked me if it was easy having a baby. I stared at him.

Honestly, my experience was actually quite an easy one - 40 weeks pregnant, water breaks, rush to the hospital, baby by noon the next day. It could not have gone any better. Carrying a baby was worse than the actual childbirth, but even that went smoothly for the most part.

After baby arrives, however, is a whole new level of learning. My husband and I learned a lot; about ourselves, about each other, and of course about our baby. We also learned a lot about our families..
I always heard it would "change your life forever" but there's no way to prepare for it. You paint a spare bedroom and call it a nursery, you buy every cute outfit you see (and so does everyone else), you go to the doctor for what seems like 79 appointments in a 40 week period, you find a pediatrician, you get the 411 on breastfeeding from all your mama friends, you have deep conversations with your own mom who reassures you that your body will go back to normal, you tell your husband that if you die during birth it's 'okay to move on' and then listen to him tell you how ridiculous you sound, and the list goes on. But nothing can prepare you for what it's really like.. what it really means to be a parent. It's truly incredible. There's something so empowering about carrying and delivering a baby, and then being able to feed her with my own body is just awesome! I'm so blessed.

There's also nothing that can prepare you for those "only-a-parent has" moments. Like when you find baby vomit inside the waistband of your underwear. Or you catch projectile poop in your hand because you couldn't get the diaper on quiiiite fast enough. Or - my favorite - the first blowout.

Let me break it down: My husband and I had just left an appointment, grabbed lunch and were about to run in Walmart for a few things. I decided I'd better check my girl's diaper and change her really quick the car, so she wouldn't get fussy in the store. As Rob lifts her from her car seat, he said, "Oh no! She must be so hot. Look at her sweating!" No. No no no. As I unbuttoned her cute little outfit, I knew immediately. This child had pooped everywhere - and smiled the entire time I cleaned her up. As I stripped her down and began the wiping mayhem, Rob grabbed a disposable bag and held it open. As I dropped a used wipe in it, part of it brushed his hand. Bless him. "Rachel, you got it on my finger!" I stared at him, much like I did to the man who asked if childbirth was easy. Here I am, elbow-deep in doo-doo - it's under my fingernails, in my car, probably behind my ears  - I all but swallowed it.

Lesson learned: if your baby is too quiet for any length of time, she's up to something. Something gooood.

I have a picture of said event, but I'll spare you the visual.

Until next time!