it's not about the resolutions

I've started 4 posts dating back to the end of November. I couldn't get to the computer. I'll go ahead and throw out the barrage of excuses...holidays kept me busy, a sick husband and son made free time nearly impossible, a two month olds demands make "me" time nearly non-existent. Those things are all truths. But then there's a nasty little truth of pure laziness. Yes, instead of writing when the kids went to bed I'd sit in front of the TV, mind pretty much numb. I'd scroll through Instagram and Facebook on my phone, more mind numbing activity. I kind of hate it, but I won't get rid of those things. I think about it often, but I like sharing pictures of my babies. I like reading updates on my friends and their lives.

It's the new year! Yep. I've scrolled though ideas in my mind contemplating writing about resolutions or changes I want to enforce in my life but it's all things I've said before. And if I start writing about them I feel like a failure for putting them on the list yet again. It's a reminder of what I haven't quite succeeded at. Ya know what though, some amazing things happened in 2014 and in my heart those have continually been celebrated.

Here's the truth though, what's really been on my heart is my identity. You may think that's ridiculous.  You may think, why you are a mother. You are a wife. Those things are very true and I love being those things but I am more than that. I want to be more than that. I feel like I have put so much emphases on being solely those things that I've lost myself in them. I have been thinking back on things I've done in the past and I've really been missing parts of the woman I use to be. I use to be more confident. I use to be more independent. I use to be brave. I did things unapologetically. Now a days I catch myself apologizing for every thing. Even to my dog...sorry Remi I didn't mean to take the blanket you are using as a pillow.

While I was pregnant I found such a beautiful calm. I felt at peace with life. I was excited for our new arrival. I was enjoying my one on one time with Brody and soaking in being able to be outdoors. Even after I had Lola, in the beginning, things seemed peaceful and balanced. Almost 3 months later and I feel like I can't keep my shit together. Calm? Peace?  Ha Ha I laugh...and then bury my head in the blankets. Motherhood is overwhelming me. Trying to stay on top of everything feels impossible. My house has become an obstacle course of toys, diapers, stuffed animals and blankets. My kitchen is buried beneath piles of mail, cards, magazines and Christmas runoff. Our bedroom has become a war zone with a mixture of Brody's stuffed animals, Lola's clothes, our clothes and anything else that should technically be put away. And worst of all my lovely, beautiful nursery, the one I just had to have finished before Lola was born, became a dumping ground for anything and everything. Empty boxes, Christmas decorations that haven't quite made it into storage, chairs, laundry....it breaks my heart every time I go in there.

If you know me than you know I hate clutter. I'm a perfectionist and when it comes to my house I'd prefer it spotless. It's such a mental thing for me (that makes me sound loony) but a clean house helps me to have a clear mind. It's all tied together for me. Organization, uncluttered surfaces, it just makes it easier to breathe. I can't get there. I try. I try to organize, clean, put things away in their proper places only to find another explosion of stuff somewhere else. Tripping on toys is my new norm and it is making me depressed. 

Have I brought up my two year old? Lord, I pray and pray for patience and my well dries up in two minutes. I can't keep up. He's all over the place and I love him, oh my heart bursts with love for him, but I'll admit sometimes I just want to hide from him. His eating habits have changed. More often than not he's spitting out food he normally loves.  A piece of me crumbles. The kisses he use to adore get a new response these days. It's an ick face followed by repeated wiping of the cheek. Now mommy's kisses are "icky". I know it's a phase, I know I shouldn't take it to heart, but it still stings a little. One minute he loves me, the next I am the worst person imaginable. No? I said No? How dare I. We butt heads, Brody and I. It's a constant power struggle. I admit, in the beginning, Jeff and I weren't strict enough. We thought things were cute and enduring. Now we have realized we should've stuck to our guns. Coulda, shoulda, woulda...right? It's hard, parenting is.

Lola, well what can I say? I adore her. I adore the phase we are in with her. Almost three months and she is all smiles and bright eyes. She hates being wet or poopy, but can ya blame her? What I feel with her I think is natural. I feel guilty that I don't get to dote on her quite like I did with Brody, when it was just him and I. I hate having to put her down or letting her cry through things. Here's an example of what I mean, I wrote this on December 18th:

Most days I don't mind having to put Lola down to tend to Brody's needs. Don't get me wrong,  there is  always a little pull on my heartstrings but I know that he will remember more at this point than she will. This past week, with Brody being sick, she's been spending some quality time the in swing, bouncy, and on the play mat. Of course I want to be able to fulfill Brody's needs, especially when he is sick and just wants his mommy. Today though, going on day three of a fevered boy, I'm starting to miss my girl. Yes, I hold her and love on her, but it's quick moments I have to steal in between the fevers demands. Today, after I fed her and she fell asleep against my breast, I really didn't want to put her down. I wanted to forget about all of my other obligations and curl up with her asleep on my chest. I wanted to sit in that chair, the one with the sun warming it, and snuggle in close with my girl, close my tired eyes and let her sweet breaths lull me to sleep. Tears were filling my eyes, it just wasn't an option today. I couldn't keep holding her. I had to put her warm sleeping body down so I could pick up a burning hot, screaming boy.

It's always a balance game with them. Some days everything aligns perfectly, but more often than not, it's a bit of a struggle. I know, I know. She's only three months, she won't remember. I will though. When I finally lay my head on my pillow at the end of a long day, I replay things, roll them over in my mind, wonder what I could have or should have done differently...better. I don't know if I will ever feel like I am enough, have done enough, for my babies. But I try. Oh do I try. And I will never stop trying. 

My husband. 2014 has taught us marriage is not easy. Not that it's ever easy. But it's also not exactly how I imagined. We said yes, angels shot hearts with their arrows, trumpets sounded through the skies. All things are as they should be and we ride through the waves of life on our love boat. Mmmm...not quite. I wrote this back in November.

I've read a lot of blogs lately that refer to "seasons". Seasons of marriage, seasons of childrens' life, seasons that are tough, seasons that are blissful. If that is one way to look at life, then the hubs and I are having one hell of a season with our marriage.

I love my husband, I do. I just feel like lately we can't even communicate without arguing. We become short, our tones turn ugly, we cut each other off. Neither of us feel like we are being heard, and then instead of trying to talk about an issue we end up attacking each others flaws. It makes me sad. It makes me feel like a failure.

I don't know what to do. Do we just let this "season" pass. Or should we be more proactive and perhaps talk to our minister? Parents? Something bigger has to shift. If it doesn't, it will get swept under the rug and we will plaster smiles on our faces and according to Facebook and Instagram we will look like one happy family.

I must make things clear. Things are not dire. It's not divorce bad. Although, if I am being realistic, sometimes throwing in the towel sounds a hell of a lot easier then working through everything. Marriage….putting two different people into a life that we are supposed to build together. Throw in kids, mortgages, bills, jobs..LIFE…and it isn't so blissful after all. This season we are stuck in, right now it feels impossible. I want to feel glittery love. (yes, glittery love) I want to go on date nights, and I want our kids to feel incredibly happy and loved and blissful. I want to take them places and feel excited instead of dreading the inevitable breakdowns and fits. I want to feel like my  husband and I can take on the world. Come on world, give us your best! We are a dynamite team and can kick your ass!

Right now, the world is kicking our ass. We are letting it bog us down. I wouldn't even say letting it, "it" just happens without us noticing until it's too late. Too late for what? Too late to be an easy fix? I don't know. There's just so much I don't know.

What am I getting at with this post, you may be wondering. You guys, life is messy. If you are friends with me on Facebook or follow me on Instagram things looks pretty dreamy. It appears I live a life full of smiley sweet Lola's and silly, happy Brody's. My husband is a wonderful doting father whom Brody adores and Lola snuggles. I sneak into a a loving mother pose here and there but the truth is, we are usually a hot mess. And those pictures I post? Those are the moments that make our mess beautiful. Those are the moments that make every stubbed toe on a toy worth it. Those smiling, silly, cuddly, happy babies mean everything to me and even when I feel like a complete failure, one smile turns it around. If I look back through my camera roll I get a renewed sense of purpose. My husband, he is my partner through it all. We don't always get along, we definitely have our struggles, but we love each other, we love our babies and we are willing to do what it takes to find our happiness, our balance. 

I guess I do have goals for 2015. Acceptance. Acceptance of the imperfections that surround me. Life is not going to go my way most of the time. My house will never be as organized and neat as it use to be pre-children. My marriage will always require TLC. We will always run into bumps along the way. Days will drag on and last forever and days will fly by seamlessly. Our babies will grow and change and be wonderful and challenging and we will love them with every ounce of ourselves always. I will accept it all. I won't compare or try to change who we are. I will just love with my whole heart and make the most out of what we have been blessed with. I'll find myself. I'll find my identity within it's many roles. I will grow and fill many roles in my life and that's ok. I don't have to be just one me. That's the beauty of life.