The Day I Threw The Squash

I threw a fit today. Yes, a raging mom fit that ended with me crying into a peanut butter sandwich while my toddler looked on. Not my best moment.

When I started documenting our life with Elliot, I told myself I would be transparent - that I would share our highest highs and our lowest lows. I've done a great job at showing off Elliot's milestones, his smiles, our unending love for him, but I have failed at talking about the hard days. Maybe it's because days like today are few and far between. Maybe it's because I want to focus on the joy. Maybe it's because I'm embarrassed that there are days when I feel inadequate. Maybe it's because I don't think anyone out there would understand.

No matter the reason why I avoid the tough subjects, I promised myself I would for two reasons. First, I wanted any other new moms of babies with Down syndrome to know they were not alone. But more than that, I wanted people to see what a God-given joy that a child with Down syndrome is and to tell the story about an ordinary couple. A couple that while they have flaws still try their hardest to carry out God's will for their family. The story about a woman who after she throws a mom fit finds herself on her knees asking for forgiveness, seeking guidance and giving praise to the One who has given her this platform.

Elliot's eating had almost become a non-issue. He was eating with us at meals, decreasing his bottles. Everything had finally come together. I noticed yesterday that mealtime was met with much less enthusiasm, but he still ate. Then today's lunch happened. Elliot was all giggles until I strapped him in to his seat. He immediately started screaming and completely refused his food. I pulled out all the bells and whistles. The Nuk brush, the mum-mums, the messy eating. He wanted none of it. So I did what any other normal mom would do. I threw the pureed squash across the table, duh!

Then the thoughts started flooding in. Why are we backtracking? There are other babies his age with Down syndrome eating table food and drinking out of sippy cups! And why won't he sit up? Am I doing something wrong? Am I not doing enough? What if he really is going to be low-functioning and not potty-trained until he's eight? What if? What if? What if?

That's when the tears started flowing into my sandwich and I heard a little voice say, "Mommy, maybe he just wants his bottle." Then through my tears, I snapped at Adele, "Because Adele, he needs to eat real food!" Again, not my finest moment.

I cleaned up the mess, apologized to Adele and reluctantly gave Elliot his bottle, which he downed. Once they were napping, I ate a brownie (obviously) and prayed (and cried again).

I'm a pretty patient person, but for some reason, I just lost it today. On days like this, I find myself asking the dreaded "why me?" I hate when I do that because I know the answer. God chose me. He chose me to be Elliot's mom. And even though there are times I feel like I am failing miserably, He is right beside me guiding me along the way.

A couple of weeks ago, I was reading in Genesis about Noah and the ark. What stood out to me this time wasn't the ark or the animals or the floods - it was that God chose Noah's family to carry out a purpose. When the rain stopped, Genesis 8:1 says, "God remembered Noah." That just stuck with me. God didn't forget Noah and He's not going to forget me either. Though sometimes I might feel like I am drowning in the flood waters, God remembers me. God has a plan for my life and for my family.

When you're living in the moment, it's easy to forget the big picture. It's easy to forget that one day I'm going to have to tell Elliot that that's enough pizza. It's easy to forget that one day I'll miss those days I didn't have to chase him. It's easy to forget that God has a plan for me.

God, thank you for your patience with me even though I acted like a child today. Thank you for choosing me to be the mom to these two adorable kids. I pray that I do a better job at remembering you just as you remember me. I pray that when I feel the tears coming on that I look to you and your promises.

So, I'm taking a deep breath as I hit publish on this post as I admit to the world that I threw a fit. But to all the moms out there that find themselves in a desperate moment, you are not alone and God remembers you always.

Father's Day Thoughts

It was not long after Justin and my first date that I realized I was going to marry him. He challenged me, he made me laugh, he opened doors for me, he went to church with me... I could go on and on about all the boxes he checked. I would daydream about our life together and I always envisioned how he would be as a father. I saw him working in the lawn with his son running behind him. I could see him out on the tennis courts with our kids practicing their backhands. I thought about Justin teaching our daughter how to drive one day. I could see him first row at the recitals. It all played out in my head.

Well here we are, nearly eight and a half years after that first date and Justin still challenges me. He still makes me laugh. He still opens doors for me. And, yes, he still goes to church with me. Every daydream I had about us keeps coming true and then some.

You see... Justin is all of the things I envisioned as a dad. When Adele was a newborn, he took turns waking up with her. He researched all of the baby contraptions and bought the best he could find. He cheered her on as she took her first steps. All of those were good things, but when Elliot came around, I realized just how exceptional a father he really was.

 

My daydreams were picture perfect, but what I have seen in the last year has been so, so real. The kind of real that brings happy tears to your eyes and makes you never forget to thank God. The kind of real you actually have to pinch yourself because you can't imagine anything this divinely wonderful happening to you.

While I'm sure that one day I will see Justin working in the lawn with Elliot running around him, what I've seen this year is a dad that is so much more. I've seen a daddy that rushed to the NICU to bottlefeed his premature baby while mom was still in recovery. A dad that meticulously labeled and stored pumped breastmilk while Elliot was too weak to eat. A dad that used his lunch breaks daily to come see his boy in the NICU. A dad that has made every single cardiologist and specialist appointment no matter the time of day. A dad that through it all, still reads bedtime stories to his daughter every night.

But most importantly, I've seen a dad on his knees in prayer. A dad who while his expectations were altered, picked up the pieces God gave him and stood strong in his faith. A dad that is completely and deeply in love with his kids no matter the amount of chromosomes they have.

I've told Justin many times this year that I can't imagine doing life with anyone else. And that's true. Justin makes me a better person, a better mom. So, happy Father's Day, Justin. You are loved. You are appreciated. Thank you for all you do for our family!

PS... I also have to throw in a shout-out for my dad and Justin's dad. What awesome men they are! How blessed Justin and I are to have the dads we have. Adele and Elliot definitely have the best grandfathers ever!