How do I even handle this face on the daily?

Answer is…. YOU DON’T but YOU DO.

Bennett has been the greatest blessing in my life. I want to GIVE UP everything for him. And gosh, in so many ways I have. I have given up my sleep (always the first to go), I have given up my social life, my schedule, my time, my freedoms…. the list goes on and on. And yet, I continue to find more things to give up so that I may GIVE TO this beautiful little man. Sometimes all I want is my freedom. To drive a car without a baby in the backseat- even if it is a quick errand to the store. But as right as my freedom feels I also at the same time feel the clock ticking. That freedom is attached to a time frame and back to my baby I go. Funny how things works when you are a parent. I am so committed to this big change in my life. I have so much yet to learn and it’s been Bennett that has been teaching me. Sometimes passive aggressively but still. haha I think about being pregnant with our next child and how it WILL be different than this go around. I pray that I will be able to do it all again with grace. Having a baby is HARD WORK. I’m amazed by all mothers. Where are these women’s capes? Must be tucked into their jeans. Seriously!

Bennett presents some challenges in the dynamic for Shelby and I’s marriage. But we have figured out how to navigate those challenges every time. We are still working on not raising our voices — as Bennett becomes more and more aware it is imperative that we figure this one out. I didn’t have this luxury as a child. My parents fought (literally yelling and storming episodes) all in front of us. And you know what, unfortunately these burn the most vivid of my earliest memories. If the sacrifice of my baby not having early memories of his childhood meant that they were surrounded by calm and collected moments– well then bring on the baby amnesia. I do not want my baby to have memories of yelling parents. My parents fought a lot. And like I said, they always did it in front of us. I remember not understanding why. I would cry and scream at them to stop. And always would watch as it would go from yelling, to excalating to another level of frustration, to finally it getting to the tipping point. Either my dad would pick up my mom and sometimes toss her on the couch to scare her (showing his strength because he wouldn’t have the words) to my dad storming out and throwing something. One time I got hit by a plate. I found that I always had to wait till the “tipping point” before it would be over. Sometimes when I am arguing with Shelby I have to remind myself that there doesn’t have to be a “kettle blaring” moment. I eagerly strive to collect my thoughts and tell myself, “breathe… look for the little eyes that are watching.” Maybe my parents didn’t know that we would remember. Maybe because they were so young they didn’t think it would matter if we saw. Having talked to my brothers and knowing how it influenced me personally, I’d have to say that it defiantly did.