A Kind of Kindness

Writing again feels so good. I’ve been navigating a swept-away season since the birth of our LO 3 years ago. Stretch-and-grow moments have been plentiful since then. Time for capturing those moments here? Not so much.

But, seasons change and mine is evolving again. So, onward we go. And, I’ll start with a lesson that still requires lots of practice:

While this idea is pretty universal, it’s especially for my fellow people-pleasers. We’re often described as “thoughtful” and “kind.” But, extending kindness to ourselves with zero guilt? Well, that can be a pretty tall order for us.

I struggle with this often. A prime example: When to schedule a long overdue medical procedure. My body tells me almost daily to be kinder to myself. Sometimes it’s a whisper; other times, a shout.

I know I’ll feel better once it’s done. But, I’m stuck on how to fit a procedure + recovery into my work sked and a multilayered calendar. (Fact: When moms are out of commission, a lot can happen in several days. IJS.) Balancing What’s good for everyone else? and How soon can I feel better? feels like herding cats … pretty impossible.

See, we people-pleasers hate being an inconvenience, especially to those closest to us. We usually adjust for others’ comfort. We often sacrifice our own needs to ensure theirs are met first. In our hearts and minds, not putting others first feels strange, wrong, unloving.

And unkind.

It’s how some of us end up delaying a medical procedure for 3 years.

So, I get it – even as I’m still working on living the lesson: Self-kindness requires mindful courage rooted in honoring my own worth. Making tiny and not-so-tiny decisions based on what I need isn’t selfish. And being kind to ourselves is one of the greatest kindnesses, indeed.

Weary, But Worth It


Hard to believe my last blog post was 8 months ago.

The culprit? A tiny human with 2 teeth and a serious milk habit. His happy eyes and easy smile are downright disarming. And, his giggles? Like sunshine for your soul.

My last post was just weeks shy of Josiah’s birth. To say that life has been extra full and moving at warp speed since then is, well, a major understatement.

Are we exhausted most days, leaning hard on Visine® (and, sometimes, the wall)? Uh-huh.

Has everything–and I do mean, literally everything–in our lives shifted because of our newest plus-one? Yep.

But has our gratitude also grown exponentially in the process? Without a doubt.

How can that be, when we’re weary on the regular?

See, Josiah is a profound gift. His mere presence is nothing short of a miracle. The reasons he technically shouldn’t be here are countless.

Want a sampling?

My age. Remember my “Hey, I’m pregnant!” post? It noted a less than 1% chance of natural conception after age 44. I was well past that age, so mine was a “geriatric pregnancy.” And, the odds were stacked high against us for a healthy mom and baby.

Last-trimester worries. The first two trimesters were pretty smooth. Sure, I had nausea all day. Extra testing and monitoring. Even some pains. But everything panned out just fine. The real challenge came in the final weeks when my amniotic fluid level suddenly increased for no apparent reason. It meant almost daily monitoring to be sure baby was fine–and moving up my due date twice for our safety.

Josiah’s landing. We reported before sunrise for a scheduled C-section. But, if baby was head-down, I could opt to be induced and push instead. He was, so I did.  And 14 hours later, Josiah made his grand entrance.  

With the cord wrapped around his neck.

I never saw it. Exhausted, I laid back and closed my eyes to catch my breath. But my concerned hubby saw it all, including how quickly the doc unwrapped that cord quickly, quietly and efficiently. He told me about it waaay later, once some time passed from the scariness of that moment.

For these reasons and many more, we don’t assume Josiah is here by chance. Rather, just like our older children (and all of us), we’re certain he has a God-given purpose to discover as he stretches and grows.

So, yeah, the tempo of our lives has changed again. The pace often feels non-stop with a new baby, being present for our older kids, supporting elders we love, careers, community service, and more. We know this life of continuous toggling will be our norm for many more years. And while we also know this pace won’t last forever, right now we’re tuckered out.

Yet even in our weariness, we’re also deeply grateful to God for so many blessings. We don’t take any of it for granted. Like feeling wet kisses on our faces, planted by a healthy baby. Watching our 3 children mature, their love as siblings firmly rooted. Hearing them laugh with doting grandparents.

And, knowing that–as long as you’re not tapping yourself out completely–some things are worth the weariness.

Your Turn: What keeps your life busy, but also blessed?

Endings & Beginnings

K Baby Bump Week 37 soft edges
It’s hard to believe that we’re quickly nearing the end of this very special pregnancy. I think back to last fall, when my eyes kept adjusting to the pink lines on the home pregnancy tests (I took 2, remember?). In shock, all I could think was, are you kidding?!? I have more than enough “life” on my plate already! Working as an entrepreneur, being a wife and a mom of 2, caring for dad in our home, volunteering . . . AND I’m knocking on 47! Continue reading

At This Moment

kd baby bump week 26

“Are you getting ready for the baby?”

(Pause) “Uhhh . . . no.”

My response to this popular, well-meaning question has likely surprised some folks. So, let’s be clear: We are over-the-moon happy and excited for Baby Dancy’s arrival this spring. And we’re equally grateful for a healthy pregnancy and growing baby in my tummy.

But, we’ve also had a lot going on. So much so that my stretch-and-grow muscles ache. Continue reading

The 4th Reaction

fashion-2939989_960_720 january 2018

Ever since sharing our surprise pregnancy at age 47, my hubby and I have received quite an assortment of reactions.

He has his own stories of responses from guys (let’s just say they involve a lot of high-fives). For me, reactions from women have varied but ultimately fall into 1 of 4 categories:

1. “Wow. Just, wow. Oh, and congrats!” (A shock-awe-and-happiness combo.)

2. “Better you than me.” (I can’t blame them but, quite honestly, it’s the hardest to hear and feels the least kind.)

3. “I’m calling my doctor to be sure I’M okay.” (Understandable, as they’re prompted to reassess if their own birth control methods are, ahem, in order.)

And then there’s a 4th reaction, and it’s been quite prevalent. But, it’s the one I did not see coming and did not anticipate would warm my heart the most:

“You’re giving me/my loved one/my friend hope.”

Those words, shared by more women than I can count, have made me pause every time.

See, before this pregnancy, I wrongfully assumed that 99% of women in my age range were like me: simply not even thinking of having kids anymore. At my age, a lot of women are already planning for empty nests, caring for elderly loved ones, and kicking up retirement planning a whole notch or two. Quite often, these rites of passage come up in conversations in our kitchens, on the phone, in Facebook groups.

New babies for my age group? Not as hot a topic as when I was in my 20s and 30s.

Case in point: The other day I realized there’s literally no one I nor my hubby know who’s been in our current situation—specifically, someone who’s working, raising school-age kids, caring for an elderly relative in their home each day, AND expecting a baby at our age. No one we can call to ask, “How did you DO IT?!?” We know we cannot possibly be the first folks ever in this situation. We just don’t know anyone personally. (If you do, we’d be grateful if you refer us.)

So, this 4th reaction from so many women has been wonderfully surprising for me, both generally speaking and given my own journey. Not only has it debunked my assumptions, but it also has stretched my gratitude for . . .

. . . being a hopeful chapter in many other women’s stories. Becoming an unexpected source of encouragement for others who persist on the journey to motherhood is humbling. And so is learning that they’re now praying for my health and a safe delivery.

. . . the reminder not to take blessings for granted. Like, a fiercely devoted husband who tells and shows me he loves me every day. Two healthy kids with quick minds, caring hearts and willing hands to help us love a new baby. And, yes, a new bundle of joy who happily dances in my tummy.

. . . the gift of a whole new tribe—women with renewed hope in the possibility of everyday miracles. Their hope, in turn, revives my own faith in God’s power to create odd-defying miracles in our lives each day.

I never expected to be pregnant at 47. I never expected to give others hope in the process. And, I never expected to be surrounded by so many prayers as a result. But, man, oh man, am I grateful for it all.

Your Turn:
How have you grown because of the unexpected reactions of others?

Expecting the Unexpected

For November 2017 Blog Surprise Gift

My hubby and I are ardent planners. Over the last 19 years, we’ve come to value having a roadmap for our journey together. Buying a one-story home we can easily maneuver later in our golden years? Yep. Having two kids, 3 years apart so “they could play together?” Uh-huh. Career moves that let us balance work and family time? Check-check.

But, are we also learning flexibility because plans can change in a split second? You bet. My mom’s sudden death. My brother’s bout with cancer. Moving my dad in with us after a fall in his home. And so, so much more. We get it. Continue reading

About Those Masks … (1.5-min. read)

mask pic for oct 2017 blog

Every October 31st, we went a-begging for candy. And what fun it was: Putting on makeup and wigs and masks and whatever else was required to become a werewolf, princess or superhero.

By the time I was about 10, I preferred to be any character that didn’t require wearing a mask. More specifically, those plastic masks with a string of rubber stapled to it to hold it in place, circa 1980. Continue reading

Road Bumps (1.5-min. read)

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So, the other day, I messed up.

Hubby was out of town overnight, so I was parent-on-point. I looked at the calendar. Only one Saturday morning activity? No problem, I thought. I got this.

Well, it turns out that I didn’t “got this.” Our son was scheduled to play his first game with a new lacrosse group. And, he was clearly excited. He jumped out of bed on his own. Got dressed quickly. Ate breakfast without dawdling so we could be on time.

He was on point. But, his mama? I was already 2 hours late and didn’t even know it. Continue reading

Back to Basics (1-min. read)

Writer’s Note, 8.31.2017:

I wrote this post a week ago, but held on sharing it. Doing so seemed insensitive in the face of tragedy and devastation due to Hurricane Harvey.

But, I’m posting it now, without hesitation.

Why?

Because, especially in extremely difficult times as this, we really don’t have time to mistreat, dislike or even hate each other. And, thankfully, a lot of folks agree; the evidence is in news stories of strangers helping strangers impacted by the hurricane.

Yet, a lot of other folks still don’t get it. From the rude customer in the grocery line yesterday to the latest POTUS shenanigans, too many adults insist on choosing the low road.

But, we don’t have to. The high road is waaaay better, and there are many paths to get there.

Here’s a brief look at one such path. Continue reading