Potty Training Take Two: Boy Edition

Let’s just be honest here. Nobody is thrilled to begin potty training. You may be excited at first about the prospects of no more diapers, and you may eagerly shop for those big kid undies and a brand new toddler potty chair.

But that first day….it’s dreadful. And that first day you kick yourself and wonder why you even attempted this stupid thing in the first place. Diapers aren’t that bad, right? 2 in diapers is manageable, isn’t it?!

But alas, you already started and in order to avoid really messing with your poor child (who up until this morning was perfectly content using a diaper), you push on.

And hopefully….hopefully soon your little one will catch on and grasp the concept that pee pee and poo poo now goes in the potty.

My first time around was a piece of cake. Like…literally, in the amount of time I ate a piece of cake Jaelyn was potty trained. Okay, that’s a bit dramatic. But just a bit. It took a weekend. It was easy and I was so impressed by her. She was, after all, only 19 months.

This time, however, I was less optimistic. I cannot tell you the number of people who told me that potty training boys was a LOT harder than it was with girls. And I witnessed it first hand through friends and family, so I knew it wasn’t just what people said. It was legit. Potty training a boy seemed like it was a much bigger task than a girl.

I was planning on putting it off as long as possible, when suddenly Phil was like “let’s potty train him today!”. What?! Potty train him today? What does that mean? You can’t just suddenly start potty training! I need to do research. Gobs and gobs of research. I need techniques and ideas and ways to bribe him to put his pee pee in the potty. I need a sticker chart. I need a treat for him. I need to go shopping for big boy undies. I need to talk to him about all of this for a week or two before we even begin. How dare I just suddenly spring this on him! Start potty training him today?! Nonsense!

But I took his lead and waited until Sunday after nap because I knew that I wouldn’t have anywhere to go for several days.

I bought big boy undies and m&m’s and talked up the whole thing to him the entire weekend. I did my gobs of research, but in the end I decided we would just take a very casual approach to it. Mostly for my own benefit. Having a baby makes it especially difficult to be attentive to pee and poop signals from a toddler all day long. By casual I mean we weren't over zealous to get him to use the potty. If he did, he did. If not, I really didn't care. I was just going to let him go at his own pace.

I reminded myself that this was Pax’s achievement, not mine, and whatever progress he did or did not make, I wasn’t going to be frustrated or annoyed.

Day 1 (after naptime): Explained what we were doing. I showed him the new little potty seat and we set up in the living room. I didn’t do anything extra like fill him up with drinks (he drinks a ton on his own anyway). We just did our normal routine, sans diaper for the little guy. We waited (or I waited) for something to happen. For me, that first pee is the most important. I wanted him to start going so that I could quickly let him know that that was pee pee and it now goes in this cool little potty over here.

He was super interested in the potty. And by interested, I mean he wanted to stand on it and jump off. He didn’t want to sit on it.

That first day we had many accidents on the floor. And I had to remind myself that it was just day one and that this was all part of it. But who likes to clean up pee off the floor?!

Day 2: Woke up and immediately took off diaper and tried to sit on the potty. Again, he doesn’t like sitting on it. He just wants to play with it.

We have zero success on this day. No pee pee in the potty, but LOTS on the floor.

Days 3: We ditch the little potty. He won’t sit on it to go. Oddly, the big potty is appealing to him (perhaps because everyone else in the house uses it). I know that he has to go, so I sit him on the potty and turn on the water in the bathtub. He thinks its funny and IT DOES THE TRICK! The kid pees in the potty!!

We go overboard on the praise and the excitement, even getting Jaelyn involved. Then we bring out the m&m’s! Pax gets one and so does Jaelyn. This makes the excitement level go through the roof and Jaelyn is now totally on board with helping Pax go pee pee on the potty.

Days 4-6: Much of the same. He knows when he has to go and it’s now a matter of getting to the potty before he pees. When he does, everyone is excited and clapping for joy (the kids are basically excited for an m&m). Pax had his first poop on the potty and it was quite the amazing ordeal! 3 m&m’s for that one!

He’s hooked! He loves it (or does he love the candy?!)

By this time I've ditched my causal approach. He's gotten the hang of it, he knows what's going on and so we press on full force. I'm consistently watching for pee/poop signals (though I do miss some because...well, having an infant makes things a tad more difficult), and we're making every effort to get to the potty in time.

Day 7: It’s Sunday and so we head to church. I decide this will be our first experience out with no diaper. Sorry nursery staff, you’re part of our experiment this morning!

I take him potty before we send the kids into the nursery. No go. Now I’m feeling nervous. But, we press on. I tell the sweet ladies that he is potty training (I get that quizzical look because he’s still one at this point), and that he’s not wearing a diaper. And I smile real big. Because that helps, right?

After service I come back to find that he has not had an accident! He didn’t go for them, but he also didn’t pee his pants. I whisk him to the bathroom and he goes for me!

First day of zero accidents!

(That is m&m drool running down his chin...)

It’s been over a month now and I can honestly and happily say that Pax is potty trained. He knows when he has to go and will just go to the bathroom on his own (although, we have to be on the look out for that because if left to his own devices he will play in the toilet…). He goes pee and poop in the big potty. In fact, he has abandoned the potty seat that goes on top of the big seat and will now only go on the big seat. Which is quite comical.

We no longer give m&m’s for going- mostly because we ran out one day and never got anymore. The kids were upset for about 3 seconds and then quickly forgot about it. Pax still asks for m&m’s on occasion, but still continues to go without getting that reward.

The First time we were out of m&m's. Mean mugging mommy.

Here are my tips for potty training (a boy or a girl):

-       Be consistent: Once you start, don’t stop. There are days that it’s going to get super annoying and frustrating. There are times when you will just really want your kid to be in a diaper out of convenience (like when you leave the house). Just grit your teeth and remind yourself that it won’t last forever. The more consistent you are, the quicker it will be.

-       Relax and have fun: Honestly, if you’re relaxed about the whole thing, so will your kid. Make it fun for him. Be excited. When you’re kid starts to pee on the floor, quickly pick him up and take him to the potty all the while saying something like “Good job, that’s pee pee! Pee pee goes in the potty now!”. Don’t scold for peeing on the floor. Always be excited, even if your kid doesn’t make it to the toilet for awhile (this goes back to consistency. Every time pick your kid up and take him to the potty as he’s peeing. Praise him for going. Remind him it goes in the potty now. Always. Every time.)

-       Use what your kid loves: Jaelyn has always been a t.v. head. It worked well to plant her in front of the t.v. for a weekend, with the potty seat in the living room. Pax does not watch t.v. He loves snacks. It worked well to bribe him with m&m’s.

-       Get your older kids involved: Obviously if it’s your first kid, you can’t get an older sibling involved. If you do, use that to your advantage! Jaelyn was excited to get Pax to use the potty and to cheer for him when he did go because she also got something in return. Older siblings are priceless.

-       Get some good carpet cleaner J

-       Remember that this is not YOUR achievement. It’s your kids. Don’t grow frustrated when he doesn’t go on the potty. It takes time, but it WILL happen. Again…be consistent. Make it fun. And when you DO grow frustrated, because you probably will, don’t let your kid see that. Whip out your key phrase and plant that smile on your face “Good job, that’s pee pee! Pee pee goes in the potty now!”.

And now…here are a few more resources for your perusal!

12 Potty Training Tips for the Confused Mom

You Know You're in the Throes of Potty Training When...

Does it ever get easier?

The past few weeks I have found that I’ve been pretty sad. Just a general feeling of being “bummed out”. I couldn’t really pinpoint it, but I knew that I wasn’t myself. And one evening as I was washing the dishes with tears brimming in my eyes I looked around at my half-packed kitchen and pink and purple streamers still hanging from Jaelyn’s 3^rd birthday and I just sighed.

Yep, it was that time again. The time when we pack up our belongings and say goodbye to another home with fond memories. A home where we brought our 3^rd baby after her traumatic entrance into this world, a home where Pax became a big brother, where the kids had their first swimming pool and Phil had to mow the lawn. A home. One of many. But one with memories of beginnings, of new things and fond moments.

It’s a home that we are leaving. Another place to say goodbye to.

It was this moment that made me sigh because I realized why I had been feeling so bummed out. This is hard. Really really hard. I thought it would get easier. I hoped that it would not always be difficult. But packing up and saying goodbye just never gets easier.

Leaving family and friends and amazing relationships with loved ones never gets easier.

I’ve gotten better at packing. I’ve learned to pack the things we aren’t using daily first. I’ve figured out to pack things room by room, to label the boxes specifically. I learned to start packing a few months before the big move and to get rid of things you haven’t used in awhile or don’t want anymore. I’ve started leaving out 2 weeks’ worth of clothes for each person, so that I can pack up all the clothes (which makes it a lot easier when washing and sorting!), and I’ve gotten really good at only leaving out one bowl, plate, cup and silver ware for each person so that everything else can be packed. I’ve also  gotten really good at sorting what is going into storage and what is continuing this journey with us. After our many many many moves, I’ve got the whole packing thing down.

But that doesn’t matter. I wish I wasn’t good at packing. I wish I didn’t know what it was like to have to move away again. I wish I didn’t know what it was like to say goodbye to people that I just want to spend my life living with and growing with together.

So no, it doesn’t get easier. It’s been really great living in this area for these past several months and rekindling relationships and spending time with family. And now we get to leave them all again.

Granted, this is the life we said Yes to when we heard God’s call on our lives. This is the life we love as we get to travel and meet new people and share the Gospel with those that have not yet heard. This is the life we believe will benefit our kids as they are able to see firsthand the needs in this world and how God is leading them to help. This is our life. We love it. We really do. But sometimes it’s hard. This part of it is just really hard.

Gleaning a Lesson from Difficulty

When we returned from France we were uncertain about what lay ahead. Phillip was adamant that we would go back to language school by the summer. I did not share in his zeal. In fact, going back to France was the very last thing I wanted to do.

It was a difficult journey in France. I’m not going to sugar coat anything. I had a hard time. I was depressed. Like, legit depressed. It was something I had never experienced before and it was something I hope to never go through again.

I know a lot of it was culture shock and a lot of it was pregnancy hormones. But it was also more than that. I’ve experienced culture shock before and I’ve experienced pregnancy hormones before. Neither amounted to the level of depression that I felt while in France. I cried. A lot. And not just over boxed milk!

I didn’t understand it then and I don’t understand it now. Was I just not strong enough? Did I not pray enough? What was I doing wrong? Maybe I wasn’t giving everything to God. Maybe I just wasn’t spiritual enough to be a missionary?

In any case, when we realized that we were still falling short in the financial area month after month and that we were actually in debt to the school, I can’t say that I was upset that we might have to leave the field. I thought going home was the answer. I thought that leaving France and being back around family and friends would change everything.

We prayed for the money to come in so that we might stay and continue language learning. And the money did come in! We received the exact amount to pay off the school and buy plane tickets home. Not a penny more!

So we packed up our things, said goodbye to our new friends and made our way back to the States. And while things did change for me, it wasn’t in the way that I had expected. The depression just sort of melted away. I can’t explain it. It was suddenly like I was my old self again. Perhaps it was more to do with culture shock than I had thought? But over the course of a few months, I began to see that what I thought I was missing out on back home really wasn’t there. The strange thing about moving away and coming back is you realize that everyone else keeps on living their lives. Yes, it’s true! Their lives don’t just stop because you leave. While I obviously know that people continue living in my absence, it was a real eye opener.

I don’t know…I think sometimes God uses little things like that to show us that all we really need is Him. If we hadn’t come back, I would have still believed that being back home would make everything better. That the community we had was what I really needed. But the truth is that while the community and family we have here is amazing and great and all that, it’s not everything. It’s actually not what I had even hoped it would be upon our return. And that realization struck me like a ton of bricks. But in a good way. Because now I feel like I can leave again and it will be okay. I will be okay and my family will be okay.

That’s not to say that I don’t need the people around me. I do need them. I desperately need them. But I don’t need them in the way that I thought I did. And I don’t need them like I need God.

I know that the whole France situation wasn’t just God proving to me that all I need is Him. I know that there is more to it than a mere lesson for me. God works in all kinds of ways for various reasons. But one of the many many lessons I have gleaned from this whole experience is that. A hard lesson, to be sure. But it was one I urgently needed to learn.

I am ready now, truly ready, to give my life to what God has called us to do. I was fighting it for a long time- whining about leaving friends and family, grumbling about doing this so far away from home, complaining to God that I needed a support system. After all, I was dealing with 3 small kids. Of COURSE I need a support system! But God’s right. All I need is Him. He will provide everything.

And this great big lesson came at just the right time, because of this unexpected path that God is leading us on!

An Unexpected Path

You should have seen us when we returned from France early. Maybe you did. But what you probably didn’t see was the raw emotion we were feeling and expressing to one another. Phillip and I were in a weird place. For one thing, we weren’t in agreement on what our plans for the future were.

Phillip wanted to jump right back in and start support raising. He wanted to get back to France and finish what we started. He was eager and adamant.

I just wanted to recoup from the whirl-wind of packing up and making another international move. I just wanted to take a break and rest my 9 month pregnant body. I didn’t want to think about anything ministry related until after this baby was born. I was worn out, depleted, frustrated and confused.

After miss Eliza made her dramatic debut into our lives, I was very thankful that we were back home. Having dealt with major depression while in France, I feel certain that the situation surrounding her birth would not have been good for me, emotionally.

Once the baby came though, it was time to figure some things out. While still not really on the same page, Phillip and I were sincere in our trust in the Lord. So we determined that we would just pray about it. Wherever God led us, whatever He had in store for us, that is what we would pursue.

We contemplated different scenarios, one of which was to start our own ministry here and do overseas missions later on down the road. We prayed through all of these ideas and then talked with some folks at Pioneer Bible Translators. We told them our thoughts, our struggles and that we really were just uncertain. So lost. We felt so lost. I think they could see that our spirits were in distress and that were just at a loss of what to do next. We told them what kind of ministry we were interested in, the things we felt called to do, what we felt like God had gifted us in. They talked with us through all of this, prayed with us and said that together we would figure out what to do.

One of the suggestions was that Phillip and I move to the DFW area (where PBT is located) and get plugged in somewhere doing something. Nothing specific. Just come and find something. In this way, we would still be connected with PBT and still be involved in ministry while we figured out what to do next. I liked that idea. I really love Texas, so the thought of moving back was very appealing.

What we didn’t like was the unknown. And what would we tell supporters? “Hey guys…uh, we’re going to move and we’re not really sure what we’re going to be doing or for how long, but could you keep sending us your hard earned money? I’m sure eventually we’ll figure it all out and it will totally be worth it!”

Maybe. But when it comes to people who are sacrificing their own income to support people and work that they believe in, I really want to show them that we are serious about missions and ministry and that we are trying our darndest to follow the Lord’s leading.

The very next day we got an email from someone with PBT exclaiming that he had an amazing opportunity he wanted to share with us.

He said he was talking with a mission’s director at a local church and sharing stories about various missionaries (without naming names). He told the man our story and immediately the missions director asked “Are you talking about Phillip and Sarah Kemp?!”

It turns out that this mission’s director is the man that married us 5 years ago! He was our professor at Lincoln Christian University, he did our premarital counseling and he was always that person that gave tough love. He told it like it was, but in a kind way (though I’m sure he would say he wasn’t kind). Not only did he know who we were, but he had an amazing opportunity for us. A chance to do the type of ministry we would have done in West Africa (though slightly different in some ways), but in the States and right now.

So we flew to Texas to talk more about the ministry and plan things out, all the while praying praying praying that if this is what God wanted us to do He would make it so obvious. So very clear to the BOTH of us. It was a great trip! Hospitality galore! And talking about this new ministry to refugees and immigrants really got us excited. Like…on fire excited! So excited that we wanted to just go home and pack everything up and move right away! Okay…the impulsive desire to just do it right away was all me. Phil was more clear headed about the whole thing. But still…excited!!!

And while we won’t have all of the information about specifics until we get there and start talking with key people, we do know that we will be working with refugees and immigrants coming into the DFW area. It is an amazing opportunity to work with some of the least reached and Bible-less people groups right here in our own country. We will get to work alongside families that are just entering America, people that are probably feeling a bit of culture shock, are overwhelmed, maybe scared and definitely vulnerable.

The interesting thing is that Phillip and I know what that feels like. While we didn’t move to France from a war torn country, or escaping religious persecution, we did move to another country not knowing the language or the culture or how to do simple things. We can empathize to a degree.

We are just so excited and ready to begin this brand new chapter in our lives and in our ministry. Certainly we never expected to be back in Texas, and definitely not at the time we would otherwise have been heading to West Africa. It’s weird to think back on this last year and see how God has brought us full circle. This time last year we were preparing to leave Texas and head overseas. Now we are preparing to move back to Texas and begin a ministry there.

This path is definitely different and not what we had planned for, but our trajectory has not changed.  We still have our eyes set on going to West Africa.  This new opportunity, although entirely unexpected, has the potential to give us far more tools to be successful in Africa than we could have ever imagined gaining.

It’s been a really weird, adventurous, exciting, and confusing journey. But we know that God is leading us. We know that He is in control and He’s paved the way. So we’ll venture down this unexpected path knowing full well that it won’t be at all what we expect!

Great Things about having 3 under 3

I am the proud mommy of 3 little kiddos- a 2 year old, 1 year old and a 3 month old. It’s crazy! But it’s also so much fun.

Here are some of the great things about having babies so close together:

1.    There’s never a dull moment: Like….literally. There’s always something going on. Whether it’s mass hysteria, or the kids are playing nicely together, there is never a dull moment. Our house is alive with toddlers yelling and learning to say new words, diapers being changed, tantrums being thrown, toys being played with, babies crying, kisses being given and an endless supply of little giggles. Never a dull moment.

2.    You are already knee-deep in all things baby, so it’s not really that much more challenging to add another kid or two to the mix. Diaper changes? Already happening, no big deal. Tantrum throwing? A daily occurrence anyway, why not add more! Sleepless nights? Hey, what’s a few more kids keeping you up at night!

3.    You get great use out of the baby gear and clothes you have! We have only had to buy a few new things since our first was born. If you are doing cloth diapers, it’s well worth the investment for sure! Anytime my oldest needs new clothes I really don’t mind doling out the money because I know that her sister will be able to wear it not too long after!

4.    They always have a friend: My goal is for my kids to always be close- to treat each other with love and kindness and to be really great friends. And as the two toddlers have gotten a little older, they have become such great friends already. They love each other and they love to interact. Of course, they are not always nice to each other and sharing isn’t something they always choose to do. But they are learning. And it’s so much fun watching them play together.

They seriously always want to be together 

(for better or worse, but always together)!

5.    Predictable Nights: I am a homebody. So is my hubby. We haven’t always been this way, but slowly we have grown fond of spending a quiet evening at home. Because we have three little bits, we are afforded that luxury night after night. The kids go to bed at 7pm and we know that the next few hours are ours. It’s really quite great.

6. Always an excuse: Not that we ever want to get out of doing things (uh hem)....but if we did, it's a very valid excuse to say we have little kids that need us. Sorry, not tonight. Maybe in 5 years?

7.    Afternoon quiet/nap time: My kids are young enough that they still take afternoon naps. It’s a glorious 2-3 hours of quiet time that I have most days to relax, nap if I want to, or get things done. It’s my time, and with 3 very needy individuals vying for my attention all day long, it’s a much needed time!

8.    People come to us: Most people are aware of the struggle of taking 2 toddlers and a baby out of the house. And if they aren’t, well one visit with us and they will be! And while I do enjoy getting out of the house sometimes with the kids, it’s really nice that most people will insist on coming to MY house to visit. Of course, this may be because they can make a quick escape if things get to crazy, or maybe they aren’t interested in cleaning up the mess that the kiddos are likely to make. But regardless, I’m grateful that people choose to come to us since it’s always a struggle to leave the house with my crew.

9.    We will have these crazy busy sleepless baby and toddlers years out of the way in one fell swoop! It’s kind of nice to think that we will not have to do the baby thing all over again when these kiddos are older.

They wake through the night and are early risers. They are lucky they're so cute :-)

Now obviously there are drawbacks to having 3 so close together. I’m not going to paint an unrealistic picture here and tell you that having several young kids is a piece of cake. We all know that the baby and toddler years are some of the craziest.

It’s challenging enough to get sleep with just one kid, let alone 3 of them! You may save money on small items that the kids can share, like clothing, but you may have to spend more on big ticket items, like cribs and strollers. Currently all three of our little nuggets are in cribs! Life is a whirlwind and sometimes it takes every ounce of yourself to just keep your head above the water. Laundry. Has anyone mentioned how much laundry you need to do when there are 3 tiny people that make HUGE messes?! It’s insane. So yeah, there are indeed negative aspects to having stairstep children. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. And on some days (okay, a lot of days), the negative outweighs the positive.

See...obviously we aren't all always happy!

BUT…I wouldn’t trade it. Eventually these hard days with 2 tots and a baby will be long gone. Plus it’s a joy and a blessing to watch these kids experience life and learn together.

Besides, this was a post about the GREAT things about having 3 under 3, not the terrible things!

My little stairstep Loves

Always a Spectacle

Leaving the house is always a big deal. Not just because there are 3 little people to wrangle into the van, a diaper bag to not only fill up but to remember, and bribery that begins the instant their butts hit the car seats (“if you don’t throw yourself onto the floor in public today, I will give you some chocolate! Mmm…you LOVE chocolate!”).

It’s a big deal because with 3 kids under 3, we are always a spectacle.

Filing out of the van is always an ordeal. When I’m by myself with the kids I open up the side door, climb into the van and unbuckle the toddlers. Then I carefully lift the baby’s car seat out and set it on the floor while I get back out of the van. I grab the car seat in one arm and help the toddlers out of the van. Then with my free hand I hold Pax’s hand and he holds Jaelyn’s hand. Spectacle.

I am blessed to have children that are pretty well behaved a lot of the time. I haven’t yet had an incident where one of the toddlers lets go of a hand. Yet.

 (Tots in the back row and the baby in the middle row)

We fill up an entire cart with little bodies. If we’re lucky we can find a cart with one of those nifty attachments; either the double seater or the tiny car in the front. The kids love the tiny car! As we walk hand in hand into the store, or as I push the loaded cart, we get looks of adoration and we get the crazy eye. You know the crazy eye. That look of utter bewilderment with a little bit of annoyance thrown in. I’m sure I’ve given that look pre-children. “Oh my gosh, are you insane? Why would you take them all out by yourself?!”

 (Basically no room to even buy anything)

We get comments. Lots of comments. OH BOY, the comments.

“Are they all yours? “

“Are they twins” (referring to the toddlers)

“You sure have your hands full.”

“You are SO busy!”

“Wow, your life must be crazy right now.”

“You know they figured out how that happens?!”

“Got your own little day care, huh?”

And my all-time favorite “Pretty soon you’ll have your own tv show! Are you trying to compete with the Duggers?” (because 3 kids equals 19).

The list goes on and on and on. If I go out with all three kids, it’s guaranteed my little entourage will draw some looks and a few comments.

We aren’t just a spectacle when we go out either. Turns out, we are quite the ordeal even at home. Right now life is a whirlwind. I’m sure many can relate. Life is just crazy and chaotic. It doesn’t always seem like it in the day to day, when we are at home and in our element and doing our normal 3 kids under 3 thing.

But when we are around other people- people with no kids or people with older children, I realize how truly hectic and crazy life is right now. When I take a moment to sit and observe my surroundings, ya know…those rare moments when I can sit and breathe for just a second, I’m amazed at how insane it all seems to be. I wonder how I am keeping my head above the water.

I look at the overflowing dishes, the piling laundry, the toys scattered throughout the house (and why, for the love, can’t they just keep their toys in the toy room?! It’s a toy room for a reason, right?!) and I feel overwhelmed by it all.

(The infamous toy room. This disaster literally takes them roughly 11 seconds to complete)

 I see these 3 little people, so dependent on me for everything, so very needy and sometimes extremely whiney and sometimes all needing me at the same time, and I feel exhausted.

And then Pax, little mama’s boy Pax, runs up and kisses me on the arm and quickly runs off again. A real kiss. A lip-puckered-with-the-actual-smacking-noise kiss. Any mom can relate to a slobbery kiss from a little boy- especially a little boy who had previously only done the open mouthed kiss. A real kiss. On my arm. From my son.

And then there it was! My heart completely melted.

 (My baby boy. Energetic, furniture climber, rowdy, cuddly, mama's boy, heart melter)

I survive this crazy spectacle of a life for those heart-melting moments. They are rare in the day to day. Let’s just be honest here. The minutes and the hours pass slowly and sometimes there really isn’t any physical reward for all the hard work. But the love that I have for these children is overflowing and never ending. And at the end of the day, when all 3 kids are fast asleep and I think over the day’s events and I wonder how we can continue doing this day after extremely long day, I look at those sleeping bodies in their 3 little cribs and I know. I just know that I can do this because I love them. I can do this because this spectacle of a life means something. I’m their mom. I’m the biggest influence in their lives right now. I get the amazing and very scary job of molding these tiny people and  helping to shape their characters and tell them about Jesus and pray pray pray that my influence is positive and Christ-like.

So yes, we are a sight to be seen. We are a spectacle. We are a little bit crazy right now. And most of the time I’m overwhelmed and a little scatter brained. But…BUT this is my life and this is an amazing life. So when I get those inevitable comments from people about how crazy it must be with these three little ones, I smile and say “Yeah, it’s crazy. But it’s fun too and I love it!” And that’s the honest truth!

A Baby Story

It was a birth story I didn’t expect for a number of reasons. For one thing, we weren’t having our third child in a foreign country like we had originally planned. Circumstances had brought us back home early. Way early!

But there was a comfort in knowing that our baby would be born back home, where I knew what to expect, where I understood the procedures and what people were saying. There was security in knowing that our other two kids would be taken care of by family.

And it was this comfort and security that I would need as our baby was born and then quickly taken to the NICU.

It was a very different labor and delivery than I had experienced with my first two kids. For one thing, I went into labor on my own. No induction needed this time. It was also the fastest labor and delivery. What I didn’t realize at the time was that the baby came down the birth canal so fast that she aspirated amniotic fluid into her lungs.

“It’s a girl!” I heard my husband excitedly proclaim. A girl! Another little girl. Oh my goodness…the joy overwhelmed me and the tears started flowing.

“Eliza. Her name is Eliza” I whispered.

I turned to see her with the nursing staff. The nurses had informed me that they give the baby to the mom immediately after delivery, but I still wasn’t holding my new baby. Why wasn’t I holding her yet?

After delivering a baby you anticipate hearing that first cry. You hold your breath and eagerly await that newborn wailing, which indicates her lungs have expanded and she can breathe! It’s such a miracle, it’s such an amazing moment.

But the seconds went by and I didn’t hear her.

You never want to assume the worst, but really you just can’t help it. Why isn’t she crying?!

The words wouldn’t come out of my mouth, but apparently the nurse could see the look of panic on my face. “This is normal. She’s doing just fine” she said to me.

And then the nurse caring for the baby let us know that she just wasn’t able to breath very well on her own and the little cannula that they had for her wasn’t enough. She needed to go to the NICU.

It all happened so fast. It was shocking. I didn’t even know what time she was born, how long she was or how much she weighed. All I knew was that she was very very blue, and she wasn’t in my arms.

I was scared.

No mother ever expects her baby to go to the NICU. I had drastically different expectations for our stay in the hospital. Little miss would room in with me. I would get some quality bonding time with her before going back home to the craziness of having two toddlers. Just mommy and baby for 2 days. I knew I would miss my tots, but I was excited to have this time away.

Suddenly though, it was nothing like I thought it would be. Our little girl was on a cpap to help her breathe, she had an umbilical line and was receiving antibiotics and fluids, and she had a nasogastric tube in her nose. She just had so many things connected to her and she seemed even smaller and more fragile than a newborn typically does.  It was weird to have just delivered a baby, but not be able told her when I wanted to, not to be able to feed her, to receive updates about her from the nurses and doctors.

I don’t know what would have happened if we were still in France when Eliza was born. I don’t know what the hospital there was like, how the doctors and nurses would have responded, what the NICU there was like. What I do know though is that I was so grateful to be back home where I was comfortable, where I understood what the medical staff were saying, where I knew my other two kids were being taken care of by family. There was security in being home. And I was grateful that, for whatever the reason, God had brought us home when He did.

And after only 3 days in the NICU, Eliza was well enough to go home. It was such a joy to be able to bring her home and have all three of my kids in the same place! I thank God for my little miracle baby and for her quick recovery.

Eliza Grace, born January 28^th at 10:43 a.m. 

She was 7lbs 6 oz, 20 inches long, and my 3^rd miracle baby!

The Calm in the Storm

People always talk about the “calm before the storm”. Not necessarily in relation to the weather. More like their lives. Everything is all fine and dandy, going smoothly, working out just right. It’s inevitable that a storm is up ahead, right? Something terrible is brewing just around the corner. At least that’s the way it seems a lot of the time.

I guess, in any given life, there are bound to be periods of calm and periods of chaos. It just comes with the territory of being human and living on this earth.

I am currently experiencing one of those so called “storms”. Things have suddenly taken an unexpected turn. The plans we once had, the direction we were headed mere days ago can suddenly be seen in the rear view mirror, instead of looming up ahead.

We are currently in France, studying the language so we can be effective ministers of the Gospel in West Africa. Or, at least that’s what we were doing last week.

This week we are heading back to the States.

Chaos. A Storm.

I just took the Littles to the nursery. Their second to last day going there. The house is in utter disarray. Things are half-packed, piling up. The floor is covered in snacks and food that the kids have dropped on the floor and then trampled as they played. Suitcases are laying about, ready to be filled up. Clothes are needing to be washed- just one more time in France. The house needs to be cleaned, the rest of our belongings need to be packed, loose ends need to be tied up here and plans need to be made for there. It is utter chaos. There is a storm a brewin!

And yet…here I sit, writing a blog and drinking my coffee while everything around me goes undone.

I feel calm.

Two days left to get everything accomplished. Typically when I think about a deadline so close with so much still to do, panic sets in. I scurry around doing a thousand different things because I’m so bombarded with everything that I just can’t settle on what exactly needs to be done first.

But right now, in this moment, calm. I feel calm. I feel peace. God’s peace.

I will admit though, that these last few weeks I have felt anything but calm. Fear gripped me. I cried a lot. I pleaded with the Lord. I felt somewhat abandoned. I begged God for answers, for understanding, for help.

The words that I continued to hear over and over again where “wait and see”. 

Wait and see?! What kind of an answer is that?! That’s not what I’m looking for. Don’t you get that I’m tired of waiting? I just want answers! I want to know what’s going on. I want to understand all of this.

Wait and see.

I’m discovering that God knows best. God’s timing is best. It doesn’t always seem that way. In fact, sometimes it seems the complete opposite. We question, “Are you sure you’ve got this God?” We give Him our input, our thoughts, our opinions, even our demands. We accuse. We argue. We fight Him all along the way.

But God just wants us to wait and see. He’s got it all figured out. His plans are bigger than our plans. His ways are better than our ways. It doesn’t make sense. And you know what, I’m starting to see that it doesn’t have to. It doesn’t have to make any kind of sense to me. I would like it to. But more often than not, it just doesn’t work out that way. And I need to be okay with that. Because the truth of the matter is that God has never let me down. Not once!

Wait and see. That’s what He’s telling me in this moment. As I sit in the middle of the storm and feeling nothing but calm.

This morning my coffee cup reads “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek His will in all you do, and He will show you which path to take. Proverbs 3:5-6”.

Ironic? No, I do not believe so. It’s God’s way of showing that He really does care, that I don’t need to be in control and know everything. I can sit in His peace while the world around me goes dark in the storm.

Just wait and see what happens next.

Will you give baby the breast: On preparing to have a baby in France

Fumbling to communicate. Every appointment is exactly the same. She speaks a little bit of English. I speak even less French (though I must give myself some credit, because after 3 months of French class, I can actually understand and communicate some). I rack my brain for comprehension.

Okay…she said that in English, right? Shouldn’t I know what she’s talking about.

We look at each other, both with the same confused expression. Both with a slight grin, knowing that we want to be able to communicate so desperately. After all, this isn’t some casual conversation with an acquaintance. Having a baby is a pretty big deal. Medical information, knowing what to do and how to do things, getting labs and ultrasounds, registering at the hospital…all of this is pretty important.

Focus Sarah. She’s saying something. She asked a question. No, she is telling me what I need to do.

I stare at her for what seems an inappropriate amount of time to stare at someone without saying anything.

Ah yes! I understood one word and the rest just sort of came together. She will do my group B strep test here and I will need to carry it to the Lab myself. Oh, how fun. That doesn’t sound awkward at all. 

I’m grinning now. Inwardly I’m applauding myself for understanding that. How did I know what she was saying? I must be pretty smart! I must know French better than I think. I will have to remember to tell Phil how smart I am!

I have to keep reminding myself to listen, to focus. It’s so hard to understand what she's saying, if I don't just miss it all completely. If I don’t automatically know what is being said I tend to just tune it out. That’s why listening to dialogue in French class is always so difficult for me.

Will I give baby the breast? What does that mean? She hands me a pamphlet. Oh! Breastfeeding. Will I breastfeed my baby. Well, yeah…I had planned on it.

She just looks at me, shrugs, and continues to ask other questions. Or gives me more information. I can’t be certain.

I’m just going to be honest, I would really prefer completely understanding what is going on when I see the midwife or register to have my baby at the hospital. But, it’s also not been too bad. Luckily I have not been in a situation where the person I’m talking to doesn’t speak one word of English and I can’t understand anything they are saying in French.

(Okay, well there was that one incident at the hospital where the receptionist and I couldn’t communicate at all. I’m pretty sure we had some major miscommunications about paying for my visit. I thought she said I didn’t need to pay her. And so I didn’t. I’m still not sure….)

And so while it hasn’t been the ideal experience that I would have liked, it’s still working out. I have a midwife that does monthly check ups, I’ve gotten two sonograms, I’ve had my labs done, registered at the hospital, and just overall have had an okay experience. I’m healthy and the baby is healthy, and so the few miscommunications and embarrassing grins are just a part of the story.

Here are some things that are different here than having a baby back home (mind you, I haven’t actually had a baby here yet. Still 2 months away):

Modesty: I was warned about the modesty, or lack-there-of, before coming to France. Here is a little snapshot of what it’s like when I go to see the midwife:

I go into her office, which also happens to be the exam room. We go over medical information, I give her my recent lab results. She asks me to step on the scale and then tell her how much it says (really?! You trust me to tell you exactly how much I weigh?!). Then she motions for me to get undressed from the waist down. She doesn’t leave the room. There’s no curtain, no gown, no white paper blanket that I lay over my lap. There’s no pricey dinner, where we get to know each other first. Just plain ol awkward nakedness in her office.

Medical records: In France we are in charge of our own medical records. We are to keep a nice little folder with all of our information, and we take it with us to whatever appointment we have. When I get a sonogram done, I need to retain the information so that I can give it to my midwife. When I get my labs done, I keep the results myself so that I can share them with my midwife. All off my medical records are MY records and I am the one in charge of them. When I eventually go to the hospital to have my baby, I will need to bring all of my records with me. There is no sharing of records among the medical professionals, each person is responsible for their own stuff

Nursing a baby: Ho hum. That’s how I would describe the attitude towards breastfeeding here. Granted, I haven’t been here long. But from what I’ve seen and what I’ve heard, it’s just not something that is highly regarded. Great if you want to do it, but it’s not something that is really pushed for or advocated. And breastfeeding in public…I’ve just not seen it at all. Even when the midwife asked if I was going to give baby the breast, she didn’t seem at all happy about it, didn’t offer up any more information than the pamphlet she gave me.

Hospital Stay: The minimum time to stay in the hospital is 4 days. Longer if you have a c-section or other complications. This, however, really only applies to those that are residents here or have the SSI card here. Foreigners that are paying out of pocket can actually opt to stay just one or two days- though it’s crucial to let them know well in advance that you are planning on staying a very short amount of time.

Different midwife for everything: I have a midwife that I see for my monthly check-ups. She is the one that monitors my weight and blood pressure, and writes me the prescriptions that I need for my lab work, vitamins, ultrasounds, etc. She is the one that I bring all of my lab/ultrasound results to. However, she is not the one that will deliver my baby. I also see a midwife that only does ultrasounds. That is her specialty. I have seen her twice now, and each time she gives me the results directly and tells me exactly what she sees as she’s looking. This is very different in the States, where the sonographer is not allowed to give you your results; the doctor must do it. So that was kind of nice. And then there is a midwife at the hospital- she is the one that will deliver my baby. Chances are, I will not meet her before D-Day.

A different midwife for everything.

Nothing is included: I have heard that it’s very important to bring your own things to the hospital; sanitary pads, baby items, everything. They don’t provide these things, or if they do they are limited (again, I haven’t actually had a baby here yet, so this one is just hearsay).

Cost: The cost of going to the midwife, having ultrasounds and blood work done is quite a bit cheaper here than back home. Like…Quite. A. Bit.

 It is €23 for each midwife visit (which is almost $29) and only €70 to have an ultrasound done (which is about $87). Those are significantly cheaper than back home. Granted, I never used a midwife back home. But I would assume it’s more expensive than $29. When I had my first ultrasound done for this pregnancy back in Texas, it cost me a whopping $280!!

These are just a few of the things I have noticed in my journey of preparing to have a baby in France. I’m not saying it’s good or bad, just different. It’s not what I’m used to, but really…what is these days?!

I am blessed to have a very healthy pregnancy and to be able to communicate with the different medical professionals that I have seen- even if just a little.

And ya know what, it’s super awkward and frustrating at times- but it’s not terrible. And I’m learning how to do things that are uncomfortable. I used to hate talking on the phone when I lived in the States. I think…if I went back home, I wouldn’t mind making phone calls anymore. I think I wouldn’t mind doing a lot of things now, because I’ve proven that I can make it through some pretty uncomfortable situations!

Thanks France!

Living in the Unknown

These past few months I have been living in such a way that I have no idea what’s going to happen next. I don’t mean that I don’t know what I’m making for dinner, or I don’t know what I want to do next week. I literally mean that I have no idea what is coming our way.

There is a scariness in not knowing what the future holds. I know that none of us really know what the future holds. This is true. We have no idea what tomorrow will actually bring. But we have a general idea. We have plans for tomorrow and next week and next month and even next year.

But this week…I have no clue what our lives will look like next week. We are in the middle of one of those crazy God moments. When everything is completely out of our control and we have to trust the Lord to lead us down one path or another. We know what we want to do. We’ve planned for what we want to do. And then when something big happens in life and you can no longer count on your plans, it gets a little scary.

We are in France right now, studying French for when we move to West Africa. It’s all been planned out. We will stay here for a year, then move to West Africa and begin our ministry there. We planned what we would bring here to France; things we would need immediately and things we would eventually need for Africa. We’ve planned for having a baby here in France, planned for what our lives will look like once the baby is born. We have plans for our toddlers, on teaching them French and living in various countries and cultures. We have plans for how we will communicate with our families and friends and supporters while we are so very far away. We have plans for how we will deal with homesickness and culture shock and loneliness while we are away. We have all of these plans that we have put in place for where we are at in life right now.

And suddenly we found ourselves uncertain of all of these plans we so carefully orchestrated. Suddenly we are at a cross roads of staying here or returning home. After nearly 4 months in France we now face the possibility that all of these plans we have made for our lives, for our kids’ lives, will suddenly be all for nothing.

Okay, it’s not all for nothing. Just because we don’t know what the future actually holds, it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t plan for things. We should make plans. Sometimes our plans are God-ordained. He is behind them, guiding them, working them out. Sometimes they are just our own plans- things that we want to do. Nothing is wrong with that. And sometimes, the plans we make are God’s plans but then for reasons that we just don’t know, He changes things. Or redirects us for a time being.

One of the things I love about being in situations like this is that it’s all about God. We may have our wants and our desires, but ultimately what happens depends solely on God. It’s terribly scary, but there is also some peace in it. When everything is completely out of your control and you are trusting God to lead your very next step, the next step that will determine your very life direction, there is something so reassuring about that. If God is the one leading, you can’t mess it up. If it’s all in His hands and you are simply following His direction, there is something so peaceful and calming in that.

I hate these situations, but I also love them. We have found ourselves in these type of situations only a handful of times. It’s stressful just waiting and being uncertain of what next week will hold. But it’s also such a relief knowing that God is the one in control and you will clearly see Him moving and working and leading you. You will know for certain that this is what God wants you to do because it is all completely out of your control and manipulation.

Right now, we find ourselves living in this unknown. Uncertain if we will continue living in France for the next 8 months, or moving back home for a period of time. It’s so scary not knowing if we need to make plans for going home (finding a place to live, figuring out what we will do when we get there, getting all of our furniture and things from storage, etc etc) and starting to pack all of our suitcases here, or if we will continue on in France like we had originally planned. Scary, yet a sense of peace. Whatever happens in the next week or so will prove that God is leading us in that specific direction.

If you find yourselves living in the unknown, waiting on God to make the next move, find peace in that. I know that it can be stressful and overwhelming, and if you’re anything like me and need to make plans for the future it can be quite scary. But rest in the knowledge that it is the Lord leading you and trust that He has your best interest at heart- even if it doesn’t make sense to you at the time.

Making a Home out of a House that is not my Own

We move a lot. Since getting married, Phillip and I have moved 9 times to 3 different States and 1 move abroad. That’s 9 moves in 4 years! To say that we’ve never settled into our own home would be an understatement.

Since having kids we have moved 5 times. I remember moving a few times when we were little. It was exciting and fun to move to a different house, but it was also unsettling. You lose what’s familiar, you lose a bit of comfort for a bit.

I know that my kids have been itty bitty with our moves. Even our move abroad, our kids were only 1 and 2. But I have to believe that major life changes, even for such small kiddos, can be quite unsettling to a degree.

One of my goals in moving is to make the transition as easy as possible. On everyone. To have familiar things at our new place as soon as we get there. This can be quite the challenge when moving to a furnished house or apartment where you can’t really bring much of your own things. This has happened a few times in our moves; twice when moving in with family, when we moved to Texas and lived in a furnished house, and right now as we are living in student housing in France.

But you can always bring small things that are a reminder of ‘home’. By home, I don’t mean a specific location or house or building. I simply mean the place of comfort, security and safety for your family. With all the transitions of missionary life, or just moving around in general, it’s been necessary to cultivate a place of comfort and security wherever we are.

Here are some examples of what I have done and continue to do:

Kitchen items. I don’t know about you, but the kitchen has always been the place to be. I spend a lot of time in the kitchen throughout the day; making coffee, breakfast, snacks, lunch, dinner. Currently our living room and kitchen are combined, so we spend an extra amount of time in the kitchen.

Whenever we move I make sure to bring along my favorite kitchen items. All of my spices and cute décor that I have accumulated over the years. Also, my most favorite coffee mug; the one Phil got me for my very first Mother’s Day! And baskets! I try to bring as many of my baskets as I can. I seriously love them and they are useful no matter where we move!

(My favorite salt/pepper shaker and spoon rest)

(I'm sure we can get spices here, but I brought along my 

favorite ones just in case!)

(These are just a few of the baskets I brought. 

So useful for so many things!

Note if you're moving abroad: Collapsible baskets are AMAZING!)

(Our cozy kitchen)

(Some of my favorite hand towels that someone sent to us)

(My most favorite coffee mug! Phillip got this for

 me for my very first Mother's Day!)

For the kids, I bring along their “lovey’s”- which are their favorite blankets and pacifiers. I also bring along some of their favorite toys.

(This is Pax's bed with some of his favorite blankets and bear)

Pax's room. And also the place the kids play in the most. 

It is soon to be Jaelyn's room also...after the new baby is born!)

(Changing table in Pax's room)

(Jaelyn's room. Although, it's soon to be the new baby's room)

(Reading nook in Jaelyn's room. Complete with some of her favorite blankets from home!)

(Jaelyn's absolute favorite pillow and blanket. Seriously...she will not go to bed without that blanket and needs it 

whenever she gets hurt or upset.)

I also bring our favorite pillows and blankets for our room. 

(My most favorite blanket! My aunt made it out of my old t-shirts; t-shirts that I have gotten from around the world. I absolutely LOVE this blanket and plan on taking it with me wherever we go!)

But more than simple items, I keep to our same routine and generally try to live in the same manner no matter where we are.

For example, our bedtime routine with the kids. It has been very consistent no matter where we have lived, with just a few minor adjustments depending on our situation. We typically do bath time right after dinner, then we get the kids into their jammies, read a few books, sing some of their favorite songs, pray, clean up our toys and into bed!

With moving to France though, we have had to adjust the whole bath time thing. We don’t have a bath tub here. For a few months we were using an infant tub to bathe the kids. Chaos ensued! It just became too much to try and bathe them every night and to bathe them together. So we changed up that part of our routine and bathed the kids separately on different days. But otherwise, everything pretty much stayed the same (we were able to find a small inflatable toddler tub. But it's also too small to bathe them both together, so we are sticking with our new routine for the time being).

(Infant tub for two toddlers? At least they get clean!)

(This toddler tub isn't really that much bigger, but it does allow for more water. And...it's usually just one kiddo in there at a time. This night they insisted on taking a bath together)

(Our only 3 piece bathroom. 

We have two bathrooms with a shower 

and a sink and one with just a toilet. 

Very interesting, France. Very interesting)

I think it’s very important to maintain consistency when moving around, especially with Littles. It takes away that element of surprise and anxiety that they may experience with a big change.

I would say keeping to the same routine is one of the biggest ways that I am able to make a house a home no matter where we are.

Having a “homey” environment is something I believe my kids and my husband need. I also need that. It’s so important to be able to come to a safe haven, a place with familiar things when everything else in the world just seems so chaotic.

Moving to another country where you don’t know the culture or the language can be very unsettling. But it makes it bearable and doable when you have your own home that you can retreat to at the end of the day.

Moving can be very difficult. Never settling down to one location isn’t easy. But there are ways to make it less hectic on the family, and that is what I strive to do for these people that have been entrusted to my care. No matter how many different places we live in and no matter where we end up, I will always do my best to make a house a home- even one that is not my own.