Me, an adult?

It's a question I've been asking myself too much lately. I cling to most things juvenile. I still like kiddie cartoons, I love Disney movies, I'm always up for a good Happy Meal, and I don't take myself too seriously. And fortunately I have found a life-long mate who not only supports my kid-like behaviors, he encourages them. But lately, things are getting a little too serious around our household and we don't care for the stress it's causing us.

We were doing great for so many years. Even having a kid of our own didn't really phase our attempts to stay young at heart. Sure there's extra responsibilities with a baby, but they're so much fun! And as you all know Chaselyn is an excellent baby. Not just because she's mine, but because she actually is one of the most easy-going little precious beings you've ever seen. And besides, you hear all the time about babies having babies. That was not the huge stepping stone to maturity that we feared it would be. I think the changes really started taking effect after Chaselyn was born. So, I've compiled a list of things that will make you feel more grown up. If you don't want to, steer clear of these things.

1) Buying a house - Sounds innocent enough. Buy a good house, move all your junk you had hidden in all the nooks and crannies of your apartment into 3 times the space, live happily ever after. Unfortunately, things start to nag you. Things that you never considered before in the apartment setting, because it either wasn't your responsibility to take care of or it wasn't worth the effort to change since apartments are only temporary living spaces. Home-ownership makes you want to watch HGTV and see how to fix up your perfectly good house cheap. You spend time thinking about all the things you want to change in the house to make it just right. It starts with ideas like "Someday I would like to redo the kitchen." There's nothing wrong with the kitchen, it's just not exactly your dream kitchen. Stuff like this isn't too hard to repress, because the fact of the matter is, there's just not money to think about a project like that right now. So, what can you do to change things up a bit? Paint is relatively cheap and makes a big difference. But where to start? The living areas seem like the first choice, but that's a huge decision to pick a color for the living space. Maybe a bedroom? Well, one bedroom is currently covered in Razorback memorabilia and the other houses the baby. Plus, within a year, you know that things are going to get mixed up with the next baby. And is there a possibility of a third kid someday? Should you stick with neutral colors on the walls so that the rooms can be switched out as a boys room or a girls room? And speaking of which, where are these kids going to sleep? OK, no painting for now. The cycle (at least for me) continues with urges to change something, but indecision as to how to make it happen. Oh, and did I mention that there's the constant bother of the stuff in the closet and still for us, the stuff in the garage. The stuff didn't bother me too much in the apartment. We put it where ever it could fit. But now, it seems like it needs a specific place or if there's nowhere for it to go, it needs to go out. I can't stand to throw things out though. I don't think I'm so much of a hoarder as cheap. What if we need that box full of stuff later, even though we haven't missed it since moving in last July? Then I would have to BUY that stuff again. What a waste of money! Note that I haven't even started on the general upkeep of a house. This is one area that has been greatly changed by Chaselyn's arrival, but even without her stuff, there's still plenty of new chores. There's the newness of caring for a yard, and you have to walk farther to do laundry, and carpets and floors are now actually in your possession, meaning that if there's a stain, you are responsible for it. OK, that's enough of a rant on that.

2) Graduating - Yes, it's the culmination of all those years of hard work studying and writing and learning. Congratulations! Now, they want you to work an 8-5 job, M-F, without extended holidays or a 3 month vacation. Perhaps they'll entice you with promises of some business travel - turns out that usually that's exactly all you get to do- travel, do some business, travel back. And you may think "Hey, I put in a lot of work to get that nice graduate degree. I'll earn more money, I'll be well respected, and I can finally take a breather from all these late nights thinking and studying." The part about the money is probably true, the second part, should be true, the third part is just an out and out lie. It turns out that your hard work has earned you the right and privilege to be thought of on a higher tier. That's nice for the ego. Unfortunately, by getting the education and persevering, you just proved that you could handle whatever they want to throw at you. The more you succeed, the more people expect you to succeed. It's logical, but I was caught off guard and was in for a rude awakening. That's how the real world works apparently. If you do a good job at something, you get to be excited about that accomplishment for about 5.3 seconds and then you have to get on to the next task. Also, the real world doesn't seem to have as many hard deadlines as before. You have to rely on your own motivation and satisfaction in your work to keep you on task. Either that or you have deadlines that are totally unrealistic and only serve to frustrate you. I spent a good long 8 years in college. I had some rough times, but it was overall a good experience for me. I went to class, I did my homework, I took exams. I did what I had been taught to do from the age of 5. I must toot my own horn and say I'm an excellent student. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem that the rest of the world really needs a professional student. So, in the words of the great Billy Madison, "Stay here as long as you can!"

3) Aging - So, you can't actually do anything about this one, but you can be aware of it and try to ease in to the more mature you. As I spent that time in college, I was obviously a college student. I was comfortable with it. And as I taught intro classes each semester, I recognized that the age gap between me and my students was getting a little larger. But that was ok. It was the headgames of the people that were actually closer to my age that threw me. In my brain, people who had real jobs and houses and kids were older than me, my students were younger. It turns out that some people get jobs and buy houses and have kids much earlier than my life plan called for. This summer will be my 10 year high school reunion. Do you realize that some people will have children that could be up to like 9 years old that you didn't even know existed. A 9 year old child and they're the same age as me?! That's crazy. As far as I know, most of the people I was close with in high school are just beginning to start their families and such too, but there are those who heard the call to be mommies and daddies much earlier. It's mind boggling. And some people will have had major career changes by the 10 year reunion. I haven't even had a single career, much less one to change to. And besides all those people you haven't seen in 10 years, be sure you're keeping tabs on those closest to you. Somehow, my sister fast-forwarded her life and is in college now. College? Rachel is not that old is she? And my oldest brother just celebrated his 34 birthday. That's like mid-30's territory. He's can't be that old. And my other brother is getting married this summer. They just bought a house and he has a job and she does too. What's happening? And my parents are grandparents. I know I'm part of the problem there, but really, are they old enough? They don't seem older than they did before, but they're transitioning into playing the grandparent roles in the family dynamic as opposed to the mom & dad roles. I just don't know what to do.

4) Making plans - Whether it's what you need to get done this week or where your life is going to be in 5 years, just don't do it. From my experience it just blows up in your face. Fortunately, most of the time the change in plans results in something way better than ever expected, but you still have the frustration of learning to let go of the path you set. So, maybe you can plan meals for the week. But don't be surprised if something comes up and the meat you bought spoils in the bottom drawer. Or maybe you've carefully planned a budget and committed to following it to the dime. Just be sure you leave a little dough in a section labelled "Well I never would have seen that coming." And if you've planned something for more than 1 year out, I'll try not to laugh.

These are just a few of the things I'm learning these days. I'm not real sure if they'll help you or if they even apply to you, but at least maybe, just maybe, I can more easily recognize these stressors in my life. Hopefully, that leads to a more productive and happy Brandi.

One and a quarter

Again with the late update post for Chaselyn. I know, I know. Someday she's going to read through this and wonder if I really knew when her birthday was. I'm also realizing that at some point the monthly updates may seem kind of ridiculous. I mean should I really feel the need to write a 3 year and 5 month update? But where will it stop? Maybe at 2 I'll start updating every quarter year or something. But I want to be purposeful about it so that it doesn't seem like I just started forgetting.

Enough already, here's the important info. Yes, today Chaselyn is actually 15 months and one week. I had intentionally been delaying this post until after her 15 month check-up, but apparently that's not going to happen for another week, so I guess I'll just break it down now. Chaselyn is such a busy bee these days. She's running all over the place, wanting to explore, and finding amusement in the silliest of places. Her favorite toys over the past couple of weeks have been a cardboard box and her snow hat and matching mittens. The cardboard box is generally used as a hat which covers her face. She likes to walk around until she runs into something (Note: this is done with careful supervision) and then she laughs and goes somewhere else. It's also the perfect accessory for a good game of "Where's Chaselyn?". The hat and gloves I believe are an extension of her affinity for shoes and other accessories. She started playing with the hat when she realized that her baby had a hat. I, being such a wise Mommy, figured that she probably would like a hat to fit her head a little better than getting frustrated with the tiny baby doll hat. Little did I know how adorable this little girl would be!!!
Notice the perfectly sized hat with the super large mittens. She's still got plenty of room for those developing brains. :)

This month, we celebrated Valentine's day. Chaselyn got some cool heart shaped sunglasses and a little Valentine's monkey.
We also took Chaselyn to her first Baylor basketball game. She was in awe of all the activity. And she seemed to have more fun than she had at previous basketball games. I think that's partially because of maturity, but more so because the game was nicely scheduled between lunch and afternoon nap time. The Razorback game we went to over Christmas was at night and past her bedtime. She loved shaking her little tush to the music and was also very interested in the game. She very much likes any activity where there's lots of clapping and cheering. She was also intrigued by all the big kids around her and everything they were doing.
Besides that, we've mainly just been chilling out around the house. She loves to play outside, but it's actually been kind of chilly, so we only get out for the occasional walk. She loves the wagon she got for Christmas.
During inside playtime, she entertains herself very well. She loves to "read" books all by herself, even if they are upside down most of the time. She can now tell you what a cow, monkey, lion, duck and sheep says. Her favorite is roaring like a lion. She's been known to make that noise without any prompting at all. She can also make a good motor sound for pushing around her tractor. Another favorite noise is the kind of blubbing noise you make when you hum and then "pick" your lips with your finger. I don't think that makes much sense, I'll have to try to get a video. And she likes to turn in circles to make herself dizzy. Currently her record is 4 full turns. Her usual is only 2.5 turns though.

If she lets Mommy and Daddy play too, she likes to look at books, sing songs (we're currently working on the Hokey Pokey), and play "Where's Tummy". She'll tickle her own tummy or tickle and raspberry Mommy and Daddy's tummies. She also enjoys playing with my protruding belly button. I of course oblige her and laugh like the Pilsbury dough boy.

At an impromptu visit to the doctor yesterday (sore throat caused by a viral infection, no ear infection) she weighed 26.6 pounds. AND, she was weighed on a step up scale like a big girl. Not in the seat like she always had been. She's getting tall too. She still loves Ravioli (even as a hat), but hot dogs are moving up in the rankings. I think her favorite veggie is carrots. And she'll eat pretty much any fruit you put in front of her. But don't put apple pieces in front of her, because they cause her to drool and soak her clothes and anything else water absorbent nearby.
Another huge upgrade and step to maturity was made this month when we officially made the switch to a forward facing car seat. I think she really likes it, but she looks way too big! And what am I supposed to do when I glance over the backseat and see this?
***Note this photo was taken at a red light where we are regularly stopped for several minutes every morning. I did not take a picture of the backseat kid while flying down the highway****

27 weeks

So, as of Valentine's day, I'm 27 weeks along. That means there's only 13 weeks until our little bun is fully baked. And for some reason, I have this feeling like little Jacob Logan isn't going to stay in there that long. I feel like he's going to make an early appearance. Which I know is possibly setting myself up for a huge burden of sitting and waiting as I watch May 16 go by on the calendar. But I feel like he's going to be here for me by Mother's day. All that to say, that means it could be less than 13 weeks before we have 2 kids! WHOA! That's only like 3 months. And as we prepare for a new baby, it's so different than the first time around.

When I was pregnant with Chaselyn, everything was so new and neither one of us knew really what to expect. I was a little bit more comfortable with what it takes to care for a baby than Stanton was I think. I have a sister who's 9.5 years younger than me. I remember all the crying and the diapers and the messy food and bottles and all that. Granted I was only 9 when she was born, so I wasn't responsible for too much, but I had an idea. Stanton hadn't been exposed to many babies and especially not for an extended period of time. Which if you don't really know much about babies, I can see how trying to grasp the whole idea is a little overwhelming. And unfortunately, I think I often misunderstood his lack of ability to grasp the idea of baby as a fear of being able to manage a baby or just a lack of excitement. But I now realize that Stanton was just being Stanton and trying to figure it all out. It wasn't that he wasn't excited. He just didn't really know what to be excited about.

And I thought I had a bit of an idea of what to expect once our little bundle of joy arrived had no idea what the whole pregnancy and birthing process would be. You never know the awe and wonder of God until you can feel the baby he is forming in your body. The little flutters that grow into little hiccups that grow into little kicks and punches that grow into being able to feel exactly where Chaselyn was externally because she was running out of room internally. Such amazing feelings that motherhood brings. And I was blessed to have a fantastic pregnancy. I didn't get sick, I didn't have a lot of swelling, I was actually able to enjoy about 97% of my pregnancy. Some time was taken off for the time when my belly was getting big and all we had to sit on at home was a futon (ladies, if you are pregnant or plan to be someday, I strongly suggest investing in a recliner). And a little time taken out for exhaustion and some for frustration from not being able to bend over. But I'm seriously one of those happy pregnant ladies that doesn't have a whole lot of bad things to say about the trials of pregnancy. The only thing I had to worry about really was how the wonderfulness that I could feel growing inside was going to transverse into the world and become the wonderfulness I was anticipating growing outside. Yep, the birthing process. How was I, the girl afraid of needles who gets nauseated at the thought of blood and passes out at the sight of it going to make it through childbirth? First things first, I have a very high pain tolerance. I have a very low needle tolerance. Therefore, an epidural was not something that I ever really even gave a second thought. I would much rather feel the pain than dread the idea of that big long obtrusive needle being shoved into my back. Even typing it out now makes me a little queasy. But I wasn't quite sure enough of my abilities to go au naturale. So the compromise, IV drugs. Which necessitates an IV. A needle that stays in your arm. Was that really the most logical choice? I don't know, but I was surprisingly at ease about it. And it worked well. We took childbirth classes and they talked about all the different options. My goal was to have an IV and not see any blood. If we could manage that, I think I would be alright. Not seeing any blood included not seeing Chaselyn until she had her preliminary cleaning. And that was ok. I would rather see my beautiful little girl sans ick. But when it all went down, there was a different doctor there and Chaselyn popped out and she was placed right on my belly. And she was beautiful, ick and all! And I cried and it was amazing.

And now, we've been through it all once. Stanton is so much more visably excited, because he now knows what to expect. He knows what a Daddy is. And instead of having to worry about what a baby is like, he's able to just rest and get excited about the tremendous blessing that is coming. And he just seems a bit more relaxed. He has an idea of what to expect and he remembers all the amazing things Chaselyn has brought to our little world. He's genuinely excited. But for me, I still feel similar to the last time around. I still just stand amazed at all the little flutters and bumps in my tummy and I love it. And I daydream about the little person that Jacob will be. Based on the inspiration for his name, Jacob from the Bible was quite a little handfull, and I'm afraid our little Jacob might be the same. So I'm trying to prepare for this new child and being very aware that he will not be just like Chaselyn. And I still worry about the birthing process. Even though I've been through it once, I know that things aren't going to be just the same. And because my first experience was so nice, I get a little afraid that if this time is going to be different, it can only be different in a bad way.

Besides that, the amount of stuff we need this time around is DRAMATICALLY reduced. We have a lot of the little things and the big things. We only need things that don't translate between boys and girls (clothes), things to accommodate two children (double stroller hopefully the one from my niblings works), and disposables (diapers). I've started registries online. But the problem with these is that most of the things I've put on there are available online only. And I've put a lot of stuff on there that we don't necessarily need. It just looked neat online. And when I go to the store, besides clothes, we already have it. And, since we're planning for Jacob to be in our room for the first 6 months, we don't even have to decide on room decor yet. Although, pretty much we're going to take off the flowery bumper and put something more boyish on there. Other than that we have to take down all the personalized Chaselyn stuff and get Jacob stuff. The multi-color, stuffed animal decor with red furniture still works for baby boy just as good as it did for baby girl. That was not a mistake. So I've actually been more worried about picking out some bedding for Chaselyn and thinking about her transition to a big girl bed and another room. All that to say, I could register for a lot of STUFF, but if Jacob came tomorrow, we would have to stop by the store and get some diapers, but we'd be alright.

No Snow

We've been in Waco since June of 2006. That's almost 4 years. And in that time to my knowledge, it has snowed 2 times here. Once during the Easter break of 2007 and over Christmas break 2009. Both times we were in Arkansas. Fortunately, I was able to get in some good snow time in Arkansas both times as well. I am very appreciative of the white Christmas it was beautiful and only caused some minor inconveniences for travel. But, since we got back to Waco, it seems like my family back in Arkansas is getting snow every other week. And we're not getting any down here.

Take this week for example. Monday my mother-in-law was out of school in Fort Smith, and Heath and Rachel got out at the U of A at noon, and I'm pretty sure Josh was eventually let out in Bentonville (they're always getting snow days). And as I read about all the beautiful snow to be seen and snowmen to be made and snow ice cream to be eaten and sledding adventures to be had, I was sitting here, in Waco. Only to realize after stewing in my jealousy that not only was I not getting a snow day but I would also have to walk in the rain to get my lunch. What a smack in the face. And I have been whining about it for 3 days now. And I'm not over it.

I want to go for a walk in a winter wonderland with my husband, my beautiful baby girl in her little red coat in her wagon, our cute little pup dragging along behind (she doesn't like water, I can't imagine she would bound through the snow like a normal dog), and me with my fat little belly poking out from under the layers of clothes and coats. I want to build a little snow replica of our adorable little family. I want to make snow angels. I want to make snow ice cream. I want to cozy up next to a fire after our outside time, get all warmed up and do it all over again.

And it just occurred to me in the past couple of days that this wouldn't be something that would happen for us. Chaselyn will not have the same snow day kind of memories that I had growing up as long as we're down here. And it made me genuinely sad. I'm sure we'll get the occassional fluke snow. But she won't really know the ups and downs of not being able to sleep over the excitement of possibly getting out of school because of snow. Waking up early to check the tv for closings. Watching the crawler across the bottom of the screen waiting and hoping to see the magic words that her school is closed. She won't get to experience all the fun that happens on snow days. There's not even any stinkin' hills around our house to sled down if there was snow.

So, how do I cope. I had been doing so good. I can be happy for family and friends for one snow day, maybe two a year. But it's starting to really bug me this year. It's too much. And my dad posted these pictures on Facebook.

How simply wonderful are these?! My parents, empty-nesters after 33 years of chasing kids around, built a fantastic snowman all by themselves. And they took a picture of their wonderful creation. And yes, you read right, my dad posted it on Facebook. Basically all three of these give me a little insight to a side of my parents that I don't get to see that often. And the house, isn't it just a picture perfect little country home. And I know that inside this beautiful house there's a big fire using real wood and all the stuff to make some good hot chocolate. And it warms my heart just to see these pictures.

I'm sure that the excess snow is probably starting to bug the people up in Arkansas. But, this blog isn't about them, it's about poor pitiful me and the snow that me and my children will not see. Are there any displaced snow lovers out there who can help me adjust. Usually for any particular part of Arkansas that I miss, I can always find a comparable plus to Waco that I wouldn't have in Arkansas, so I can manage. But when it comes to weather I don't want to give up snow for more hot days. It's not a compromise I'm willing to accept. So, please, help me!

V-day

It's February, and since we've already passed the first holiday of the month (apparently 6 more weeks of winter), I feel free to look to the next holiday...Valentine's day. It's a weird holiday for me because I love it and hate it.

First, the hate part (that way I can leave on a happy note). Valentine's day is not something I really enjoy celebrating. I would feel a little more normal if I didn't like it because it's a corporate scam to sell more candy, cards, and flowers. But the fact of the matter is, I don't like Valentine's day because 1) I hate people and 2) I'm frugal. So, on #1, I can't stand the thought of trying to go out to some over-crowded restaurant, just to wait for over an hour in the company of the mix of couples either showing way too much PDA and couples just trying to keep the theme of the evening in mind in between conversations of work and kids. And in general, I seem to always be near people who stink. I can't stand smokers and I'm easily overpowered by cologne. Unfortunately, I feel this way about people the other 364 days of the year too. And this has proved to be a hindrance in forming quick friendships and apparently I come off as somewhat rude and judgemental when I meet new people. It's been brought to my attention, and I'm working on it, but I'm nowhere close to being fully rehabilitated in that realm, so for now I choose to avoid the large crowds of strangers when I can. On #2, I have selective frugalness (read: when it comes to baby clothes and accessories I have no will power). There are times when paying top dollar is worth it...flowers and candies on Valentine's day is NOT worth it. If you didn't know, my mom was a florist. I know how these things work. Send your significant other 3 dozen roses today or 1 dozen in 12 days for the same price. It's ridiculous!!! I used to be opposed to flowers all together, any time of year, because they just die. But, I am maturing and I can appreciate the beauty of the little blooms more. They really do liven up a room. And I'm not just picking on flowers, it's all the stuff. I don't need another stuffed bear or an expensive card or heart box with candy. Just buy me twice as much of the candy the day after V-day. (Disclaimer: I'm an old married woman now, and thus the feelings. I treasure the little gifts Stanton gave me while we were dating, but now that we have one bank account it's just not worth it.) On the same hand on what's supposed to be a romantic holiday I don't want the stuff I need like a new pair of fat pants or dish towels. So, between the people and my cheapness, it's just not a holiday for me.

Now, the love part. I like V-day as a kid. The parties, the fun cartoon cards, the candy hearts, the special activities, the crafts and the prizes from my parents. It was great. And I very much look forward to doing special things for our kids on Valentine's day. I hope that I do a good job of letting my kids know how much I love them every day but it's nice to have an excuse to give a little treat every now and then.

So, I guess I fully support Valentine's day as a day to make sure you tell your family and friends how much you love them. But, I fully disapprove of the forced romanticism of it all. Does that make sense?

I should also put in here, that because of our aversion to busy restaurants and such, Stanton and I still have a scheduled date night every February 28th when we celebrate our dating anniversary. That's our special night in February.

How ya' feeling?

For those of you who don't know, when you're pregnant, everyone becomes concerned about how you're feeling. Sometimes the extra attention is nice and you wait for someone to ask so you can tell them the joy of feeling the little baby swirling around in your tummy. Sometimes you're a little bothered to explain to the 20th person that day that you're doing fine, at least as fine as a pregnant lady can be expected to be. And sometimes you're a little creeped out by the total stranger touching your belly and asking all kinds of personal questions.

So, without any further ado, here's how I'm feeling...

1) Tired. Yes, this is the biggest issue I've had to deal with for both pregnancies. While I am very thankful that this is the worst thing I have to deal with, it is something I have to deal with. And this time around it's a little different. With Chaselyn, I could take a nap after work from about 5-6 any day I wanted to. Also, on weekends I could sleep in to my little hearts desire. That doesn't happen too much this time around. Stanton is a trooper and gets up with Chaselyn on Saturday's when he's not totally exhausted. But, some weekends, I have to take my turn.

2) Full yet hungry. This time more than last time, I'm having to budget in smaller meals throughout the day. I feel full much more quickly than before, and yet I'm still hungry. How does that happen?

3) Sugary. I cannot control myself around sweets. I gobble them up. I am a notorious salty snacker. I know not to buy potato chips because I end up eating the whole bag in a day. But now, I find myself eating whole bags of candy. We bought a dozen cupcakes to announce the gender of our baby to our life group. Only 3 of the cupcakes were eaten. I ate the other 9 between Wednesday night and Saturday night. And no, that wasn't my only sweet indulgence for those days. Now that I've recognized I have a problem, I'm trying to manage it much better.

4) Big. Jacob seems to be holding true to the old wives tale that says boys carry lower than girls. I'm having to move into the fat pants much earlier than I did with Chaselyn. It didn't help that I went to get measured for a dress last week and my 5 month pregnant self is a size 8 in the bust, a size 12 in the waist, and a size 14 in the hips. I'm not too surprised by the ratio of sizes (Although generally, my waist is the smallest of the measurements), but I've never been this big. Well, never this big and had to see the actual numbers to go with it at least. I can't complain about the waist, I mean hello, that's where the baby is. But I'm not very comfortable with the enlarged chest. Above all, I can't stand the idea of my already large hips growing even larger. I guess I can be happy that I have good child-bearing hips. But, I've got another 4 months to go. Maybe if I get a better hold of #3, I can slow the expansion. :) Oh yeah, did I mention that the bridesmaid dress is for my brother's wedding?! I'm super excited about the joining of two lives (especially the two that are being joined), but being in a wedding 2 weeks after my due date is a little scary in the dress department.

5) Blessed. Obviously, we're super excited about our new addition. But I'm also extremely happy that I haven't had to deal with some of the typical pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness and swelling. (I'm also a little sad I don't get serious cravings. I haven't made Stanton make a single midnight run to go pick up something tasty.)

In general I'm feeling good. Not too different from usual. I can say that I feel a little different this time than I did with Chaselyn, but I can't figure out how to explain it, it's just different. Maybe it's the little male hormones inside of me. Maybe it's that I have a better understanding this time around as to what it all means. Who knows?

The end of a dream?

So as many of you know, I've been wrestling with trying to figure out the life I want to lead. Am I career woman who balances work and family seemingly with ease as I publish papers, teach the masses, raise the kids, make a loving home for my family, bring home the bacon and fry it in pan? (Mmmmm...bacon) Or am I the stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) who knows all the latest and greatest innovations in child rearing, home-making, and recipe cooking? OK, realistically I knew I wasn't going to fit in to either one of these categories, so where do I fit in?

Up to this point in my life, I've been a drifter. Whenever the end of one era of life came along, another door that seemed logical seemed to pop right open. At the end of high school, college was the logical step, and while others were paining over the decision of where to go, I really only had one choice. Sure I applied to a handful of other places, but I knew I belonged at the U of A. After undergrad, I really had no prospects. School seemed fine, I wasn't burnt out, and the 9 month schedule with great time off was real nice. So, when the math department told me that they needed more graduate students to fill their assistantships I went along for the ride. Teaching and keeping up with my own work wasn't too hard, and like I said, there was always plenty of time to go to games, spend time with the hubby, and sleep. (It was during my first year of grad school we discovered I have a thyroid problem. Apparently sleeping 14+ hours really isn't normal, even for a college student.) Then, as we were closing in on the end of my master's program some guy came up from Baylor to talk to me about pursuing a doctorate. I accepted the lunch date figuring at least I could get a free meal. And then he offered to pay for my husband and I to go to Waco to check out the campus. Seeing as how we were racking up some student loans and had great parents who took us on family vacations, we hadn't gone on a road trip just the two of us since our honeymoon (and even that was more of an air trip). So we decided that an expenses paid weekend away, even in Waco, would be a nice little trip. Still having no intentions to carry on my education or to move nearly 7 hours away from family. But then the guy who bought me lunch and paid for the trip also put Stanton in contact with a fantastic researcher who had found a way to combine mechanical engineering with some truly meaningful and impactful ideas. And so, we both enrolled at BU not too much later. And then just as it seemed our time was up here in Waco, we stayed. Sure I had another very enticing job offer back home at UAFS, sure we had no idea exactly where $$ was going to come from in the near future, but we knew we were right where we were supposed to be. And before long, Stanton was indeed pulling in a pay check and I was able to grab up a post doctoral position in the stats department where I was already so comfortable.

And now, before you know it, it's two years later, we've got one kid, another on the way, and we've purchased a house in Waco (Hewitt technically). And in May another chapter closes for me. The post doc ends. Naturally when I saw that the BU stats department was posting a tenure track position starting Fall 2010, it seemed like another beacon calling me. So I applied. And then I thought about it...and then I prayed about it...and thought...and prayed...and let that cycle repeat for way too long. Once I came to the conclusion that I would let the search committee make my life decision for me. If I was offered the job, then it was meant to be and I would jump at it. If I wasn't offered the job, then it was meant to be and I would just be a SAHM. That appeased me for about 2.3 hours. Then I realized that I needed to be more aware of the direction that my life was going. I needed to make a decision and not let someone else make decisions for me. And more than that God was telling me that for my own sanity I needed to be more in tune with where he was guiding me.

And so I wrestled...I was already feeling overwhelmed trying to balance research, teaching, and Chaselyn how could I take on an even heavier workload and devote time to another child? But being a SAHM is a daunting task as well. What do I know about what kids need to know? What tools they need to develop properly? Can I be at home with 2 kids all the time? I love kids, but do I love them that much? Can I really just forget about the past 8 years of my life that I spent laboring to learn and grow as a statistician and be comfortable with only being called Mom? And before too long I was beating myself up from both ends. "You'll make a horrible SAHM." "You want someone else to raise your kids?" "You're failing miserably at your research, just give it up."

And I finally just had to say enough is enough. The truth of the matter is that I cannot physically, mentally, or emotionally trudge on in a job like the one I have now, much less one even more demanding. I am constantly bombarded with a feeling of defeat in all areas of life. I'm not living up to the job description for the post doc. I am not living up to be the mother I want to be. I am not the wife I want to be. And the more I try to fix one area, the more another fails. And I appreciate so much those people around me who have stepped up to accomodate my short comings and those who have supported me all the way. It's because of all the support and love that I have felt that prolonged the whole meltdown in the first place. If you people would just stop being so confident in me, I would have given up long ago.

But on Friday, I finally told my advisor that I wouldn't be able to handle the tenure track position. That it's just to much for me and my family right now. A tenure track position would mean lots of sacrifice, and if any part of my family is going to sacrifice, it's going to be me, not my children, not my husband. And just in true supportive advisor fashion, he said that he totally understood. He was so happy that his wife was able to stay home with their young children and that there were no hard feelings. He was so much more understanding and supportive than I deserved. I shouldn't have expected anything less, but for some reason I did. And as I talked with him, I realized that there was some relief of finally letting the cat out of the bag, but I still had this underlying feeling of disappointment. It obviously wasn't coming from my advisor and I know that I'm doing what God wants, so why do I feel so down?

A friend suggested that I was grieving the end of a journey. It may not have been my life long dream to be a statistician, but I have worked hard over the past several years to make a go of it. And I achieved something only the top 1% of Americans achieve, a Ph.D. And beyond that, only a fraction of these people have an article published in a scholarly journal. And now, essentially, I am turning away from that journey. I do hope to stay involved in the community of statistics, working on publications when I can and possibly doing some teaching now and then. But in general, my choice to leave the field now all but guarantees that I will not pursue a tenure track position in the future. And without some real extra effort, I will most likely be relegated to teaching lower level courses when I can pick those up. And there's nothing to say that a person can't be sad over the ending of one era while really looking forward to the next. So, I allowed myself to grieve and to give respect to the accomplishments I have made and commit to doing the best darn job possible over the next couple of months I have left.

But, that wasn't all. I still had this feeling of disappointment. And it wasn't until Sunday afternoon when I pegged it. I had admitted defeat. By going to my advisor and telling him that I couldn't handle it, for the first time in my life that I can recall, I said "It's too hard. I give up." And that is not my nature. I have never been pushed so hard that I felt like I had to break. And I feel that I've done a lot of things in my little life. And this 28-year-old woman felt like a small child who decides the bumps and bruises aren't worth the freedom of a bicycle ride. I failed. I failed. I failed. I'm not the golden child. I'm not the one that people are going to say..."Look at her, she found a way to do it all, surely you can too." And I wanted to be that person. More than being a successful statistician. More than being an outstanding mom. I wanted to do both. I wanted to make it work. But I'm not that person.

I'm the person who has to admit that she is only one person and I can only handle so much at one time. And I am glad to say that I can admit defeat. I believe that is what I was really wrestling with. I was wrestling my pride. My innermost feelings of being the one who has it all and can do everything. I give it up. I'm not that person.

I'm the person who is happy to have finally been broken and shown what true pride there was in her heart. I'm the person who will never be upset that she gave up on the dream of being the perfect woman who does it all to just be the mom who is there for her kids. I'm the person who will (try to) remember always that any time I feel like I gave up on myself or missed out on my dream that I am indeed living the dream that God has planned which will far surpass any silly little idea I ever had.

So, that's where I am today. Still living the dream, just a different version of the dream than I thought I was living. I needed to write this blog, not for you, but for me. So that future me can come back to this post and re-read the wisdom that I feel I have right now. The clarity of perspective as to what is going on in my life right now. Because I know I'll need to be reminded repeatedly of what in the world I am doing with my life.