never enough hours...

Ladies and Gentlemen,

There are truly never enough hours in a single day.

Never enough hours to stare into my children's eyes the way they deserve to be stared into.

     ~or to read them the stories I want them to know

     ~or to sing them all the songs that bring them such delight

Never enough hours to do the laundry and the dishes and the cooking.

     ~or to make a scrapbook 

     ~or decorate the house

Never enough hours to finish all the things on my "to do list" or to do all the amazing things not on that list. 

Never enough hours to spend with the man I've promised eternity to.

All I have are moments. Fleeting moments like this one. The house is quiet. I have one baby in my arms while the other sits in her carseat as I rock it with my foot. 

I know it sounds like a complaint---a greedy, selfish, naive complaint I want more time! I want less to do!  But what I'm really saying is this---I have enough.

I love my life. I love that my hands are full and my day is full and that my heart is full. I love that some days I spend too much time staring at Annelise and Olivia, or singing 'head shoulders knees and toes' with Gideon instead of folding the laundry. I love the time I get to spend with my mother and ask her advice and understand her perspective when I probably could (or should) be doing something else. I love that those hours disappear and leave me with sweet moments and memories from a day too quickly gone.

In yearning for more time what I'm actually saying is, I love what I have! 

The fact that there are never enough hours to do all the things I want to do means that I have an abundance of things that I am capable of doing, and isn't that amazing?

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Life is good!

finding myself

Sometimes I get a little lost. Sometimes I see all the words on a page or on a screen and I want to lay claim to one of them. I want to be one of them. I want to walk up to someone and be able to say "Hello, I'm debbie and I'm a             " and I want to mean it with my whole being. I would love to be just a writer or just a photographer or just a teacher or just a florist or just a mama. 

Sometimes in this world of social media and labels I get lost trying to find a word for myself. I envy people who are so completely something. I envy those who can throw their souls into science or history or fashion or fixing things or athletics and be so wholly content.

I'm a dabbler.

I'm not particularly good or knowledgeable at any one thing.

I dabble.

I wake up some mornings and the only thing worth living for is the words on a page.

Other days I'm not complete until I can unapologetically throw myself into a sport or climbing a mountain.

Some mornings I wake up clutching a pencil, filled with the itch to draw out my soul in charcoal or pastel or some messy mix of mediums.

There have been days where my eyes were hidden by a camera lens---so completely hidden that I had no apprehension or fear that anyone could see me and somehow in those moments I became me.

I wake up with an ache in my heart to hold my babies and shape my world around them and the only word I need is "mama" and the only voice I need is theirs.

And yet on any given day I can cycle through the need to be dozens of different "mes".

I go through stages of fighting it. I think I've been told by the world that the me that loves sports isn't allowed to coexist with the me that writes poetry and that all of these different mes are a contradiction. But I live for these contradictions. When I try to choose just one word I feel incomplete...when I try to be only one of these mes I get lost.

So today, (for the hundredth time over) I'm choosing to embrace every different me that exists.

What do you live for? Are you happy with how you define yourself? Do you feel like you are seen for who you really are?

I hope that you will choose to embrace whatever "you" that makes you feel whole and happy. You deserve it.

A boy named Sue

I am of the opinion that names are special. I think that names shape a lot of what a person will do and become.  Give a kid the wrong name and he can be scorned for the rest of his life---which can either be seriously detrimental or highly effective in building character.

Take the song "A boy named Sue" . Kind of an absurd illustration of the point, but it works.

When naming my children I felt like they needed a name to live up to. I wanted them to be able to look at the meaning of their names and know that they were special, or to look at historic figures with the same name and say "yeah! I wanna be like him/her!". But I didn't want them to be run of the mill either.

During my pregnancy with Gideon, the first indication that he was a boy was the fact that Rob and I absolutely could not agree on boy names. We had a solid girl name we agreed on but it almost came to blows about boy names---and this was from the day we found out I was pregnant.

We prayed about it a lot. Sometimes we would even try to pray for our unborn baby using a name we had chosen, but it didn't ever seem right.

Then one day we were driving to Kristy's house and we were at the Debarr/Boniface intersection when The Beatles "Rocky Raccoon" came on. It has a line about "Gideon's Bible" and at the risk of being ridiculed I turned to Rob and said "I know this sounds weird, but I actually really like the name Gideon." and he agreed! I knew that Gideon was a strong Bible name and that his story was a hero's story so it fit our requirements. You can read the Bible story here.

With Annelise and Olivia it became even more complicated. I had decided long ago that my first girl would be named Evelynn. We would call her Eva. That name was everything I wanted for my first little girl---it was beauty and meaning and love all wrapped up in one word. God named his first daughter Eve. Our first would reflect that. I didn't really give Rob a choice about that one, it was law---she would be my little Eva.

The moment I saw two heartbeats on the screen I knew that would change. How could I choose which little one to give a name so rife with meaning? These girls needed names of equal importance, but equal individuality.

Annelise incorporates two important things about our lives.

1. Ann is Rob's oldest sister's name and Elise is his youngest sister's name
2. Annelies is the full name of Anne Frank. We love the Dutch people and since we met in The Netherlands we found it fitting.  (We changed the spelling to help out with American pronunciation)

Olivia is a name I have loved for a long time. It has hebrew roots meaning "peace offering from God". It is also the name of one of my great-great relatives. Her story is a hero story in its own right but long---maybe I'll share it another day.

Who were you named after? What does your name mean? Has it changed the way you live?

They love each other 

One Month

Having babies that spent time in the NICU is a bizarre thing.

On the one hand, you know they have been alive and kicking for a full month. On the other, they've only been home for 2 weeks so it seems like they are only 2 weeks old.

But that's beside the point.

The girls are doing incredibly well. They are growing and cooing and crying and pooping and doing all the things that babies are supposed to do.  Annelise has grown a full inch and gained 1lb since birth and Olivia has also grown a full inch and has gained 1lb 5oz! It will be interesting to see how big they are by the time they reach their original due date on 11/12/13.

Speaking of due dates...it took me almost 3 weeks to realize this, but the girls were born on Gideon's original due date!! I kept thinking "who's birthday is September 27th? did I have plans on September 27th? what is so special about that date???" I'm not joking. 3 whole weeks of thinking that before it clicked. I'm going to blame it on pregnancy brain. Even though I'm not pregnant anymore. But technically I'm still supposed to be, so it counts.  

I love my little family. 

shenanigans

Annelise and Olivia are already conspiring against me...

I will be minding my own business, reading a book or looking at pretty things on the internet, when all of the sudden one (or both?) of the babies starts moving around and crying. I can definitely hear that at least one is moving and fussing but by the time I get to the pack-n-play and look over the edge to calm said baby down, they are both frozen! No signs of fussiness.

So then I sit by the pack-n-play until I am confident that the fussiness is over but as soon as I resume my activities it will begin again.

How do they know?



P.S. Annelise really loves to snuggle Olivia and occasionally things like this happen:

Yes, Annelise is sucking on Olivia's pinky. The best part? Olivia doesn't mind at all.

P.P.S. The only way I can tell them apart (if they are not right next to each other) is by their right ears. And we put nail polish on each of their big toes so that if we forget which outfit/blanket they are wearing we will still know who is who. I thought I would be able to tell them apart without looking at their right ears or their toes, but my mom got them dressed yesterday and then brought one baby in to me to see if I could tell who she was and I failed. But I knew I had failed as soon as I looked at her right ear. So as long as they both don't go all "Van Gogh" on me I should be fine. 

                    Olivia                                                                                              Annelise

See how Olivia's ear has a little kink in the top? That difference is my saving grace. 

Favorites

Ok, so I have an extreme problem with favorites. Please, please, please, don't ask me what my favorite anything is...except color. You have permission to ask me what my favorite color is, but you do not have permission to make fun of me.

My favorite color is grey. But you can't spell it 'gray'. My favorite color is grey...with an 'e'. Somehow it is important that it be spelled that way.

But I digress...

On any given day, at any given time, if you ask me what my favorite anything is you might get a different answer (except color. favorite color=grey). If you ask me in the morning what my favorite type of food is, I might tell you Italian. If you ask me in the evening, I might tell you Thai food. If you ask me about my favorite book I will likely tell you about what I am currently reading, unless I don't want to get into it and then I will tell you The Little Prince. If you ask me what my favorite season is on four different days, you will get four different answers. Get the picture?

The thing is, I am always 100% convinced that I am being 100% truthful. And yet I don't even think about the fact that yesterday my answer was different.

The reason I bring this up is because this morning I was absolutely convinced that the stage that Gideon is currently at is my very most favorite stage of babyhood yet. But this afternoon I found myself saying that the stage that Annelise and Olivia are at is my favorite.

fa·vor·ite

ˈfāv(ə)rət/

adjective

1.

preferred before all others of the same kind.

^^^^By definition that is impossible. Little tiny baby snuggles and sweet baby breath and desperate-one -finger-hand-holding are totally my favorite things about being a mommy BUT lip smacking kisses and big boy cuddles and playing catch and learning words are my favorite things about being mommy and both of those statements are entirely true...so maybe my favorite thing is just being mommy?

I dunno. Just don't make me choose. I'm happy that I have so many different favorites.

Gideon

Annelise

Olivia

^^^That is the desperate-one-finger-hand-hold and if you have ever experienced it, you would know that it is the best thing ever.

26

I am now twenty-six years old.

26

How did this happen? I swear that just yesterday I was picking out my outfit for my first date. Just yesterday I was ditching school to go to Barnes and Noble and sit in their comfy chairs and read books I couldn't afford. Just yesterday I couldn't imagine anything more important than whether or not I was a starter in the next basketball game.

That was just yesterday, right?

No.

Yesterday I woke up with three kids in my bed. Yesterday I picked out an outfit for my first post-pregnancy date with my husband. Yesterday we bypassed Barnes and Noble on the way home from our date because I didn't have time to look at books I can't afford. Yesterday I couldn't imagine anything more important than whether or not my children had eaten well before bed.

You know what the funny thing is?

The new baby smell now trumps the smell of books.

Every time I go on a date with my husband it feels just as exciting as that first date I ever went on.

I now do most of my reading while my babes are sleeping (which is when experts tell you to sleep--ain't nobody got time for that!)

Ten years ago I would have never imagined the life I have now, or the things I find important. But I can honestly say that I love it.

My boys are precious.

Check out those cute outfits!! I am going to have so much fun dressing these girls.

Morning cuddles.

Sometimes the only way they will calm down is if they are cuddling each other <3

My little boy is getting soooo big!

Gideon likes to help calm down the girls...he pats their backs and rubs their hair and he'll even help put their pacifiers in!

Grandpa had fun babysitting for our date night.

And now a joke, compliments of my good friend Nikki:

Q: Why is the ocean so grumpy?

A: You'd be grumpy too if you had crabs on your bottom!