Bare

It is three o'clock in the morning. I am laid out. Mouth wide. Drool. Sleepy-town.

He wakes up, looking for his Mama.

He finds her. She never went away.


It is nine o'clock in the morning. Elmo is on. I let him eat cookies for breakfast.

He's the only one who knows.


It's four o'clock in the afternoon. Still no nap.

I cry and ask God, "Do you even want to spend time with me?"

He sees it. My fit in the Barnes and Noble parking lot. A few others see it too.


It is ten o'clock in the evening. I am spent, sitting in my chair with my computer.

He is getting tired, coming to me for ninny every five minutes.

I glance at one tired man. He knows. It's time for bed.

The little he gives his Mama a kiss, is coaxed to move bed-ward with the prospect of brushing his teeth.

I hear them say their prayers.


It's five after ten o'clock in the evening. My first time alone today.

I sit in my chair and reflect and plan for tomorrow (my favorite part).

As I think, I sit in wonder; my life has been laid bare before the two I love most.

My ways are plain to them. And THAT is making me more like Him.

Nursing John Past One

It was my dream to make it to two.

Then it was my dream to make it to two weeks.

In any event, here we are at 20 months with an avid nurser. Who would've thunk?

Nowadays, John Piggy Pie comes up to me and pulls on the already-stretched-out collar of my shirt. He pulls on me and he whines. 

I say, "No-No, John P. That is not how you ask for ninny."

Then he repeats after me.

"I" - "I"

"want" - "nuh"

"ninny" - "neeeeeeny"

"please" - "psss"

"Mama" - "Mama"

Then sometimes for good measure, he repeats (to the best of his ability) Mama is beautiful or I love Mama {whichever sentiment I'm most in need of at that particular moment}.  

This happens at least 15 times a day. 

Of course, he also nurses multiple times at night; it helps us all sleep. 

I often hear people - men & women - talking about how much breastfeeding creeps them out [just in general]. 

I even more often hear people - even those who have nursed their own - talking about how much breastfeeding into the toddler years creeps them out. 

I guess I can understand. {I've had to eat my words vowing NEVER to nurse John while he's standing up. Whoops.}

I just wish that people could understand that the nearly-two-year-old that I'm nursing is my baby.

When he falls and hits his head, I pick him up and (almost) instantly soothe him. 

When Mama comes home from work, I walk through the door, pick up my Boo and experience instant re-connection with him. 

When he goes a day without eating anything (anything except cookie-tookies, that is), I rest assured knowing that he's getting the nourishment he needs.

Of course, I get some strange looks. When we are out and John disappears under his ninny cover, some people do a double take. I can see the wheels turning: How old is that kid? And when we are at the softplay: How many times will this kid nurse in a 20-minute period.

I can honestly say that I don't care what people think about me for feeding my son. To date, breastfeeding is the only parenting hill that I'm buried on. It's that important to me.

I am so thankful that I can nurse my toddler. At this point, Josh and I don't believe that he'll ever wanna wean, BUT we are still planning to let him lead the way in the weaning department. So, yeah, we'll see what happens.

Oh, and we love him so.

My Nineteen-Month-Old Son

I love you, Piggy Boy. I love your nineteen-month-old self.

This month, you have shown us just how smart you are! I get so stinkin' proud every time I hear you say your ABC's (even if you say them sans A, and H, and R, and X ... relatively unimportant letters, right? hmmm).

You can also identify so many of your letters ... B & C & E & F & I & M & O & P & T & U & V & W & Y ... until you get tired of identifying them, then every letter is M. 

Another sweet Mama brag: Love hearing you count to ten. Love hearing the strength and confidence with which you say the number TWO (which you will unbelievably be in less than five months). 

Recently, you have been obsessed with Elmo. Let's put your favorite Sesame Street characters in order:

1. Elmo

2. Abby Cadabby

3. Cookie Monster

4. Big Bird

And you couldn't care less about the rest of 'em. I really enjoy watching Elmo with you, brother. 

Mama bought you the Cars movie this month, and while you were watching it with Dada, you made the connection and went and DUG all of your Mater tow trucks out of your toy bin. Smart boy!

This month, you have also been obsessing over Meme. When you look at your picture book of Mama's family, everyone's name is Meme (including Mama's). From time to time you correctly identify Mama, Cal Cal, and Mink. Oh, and Pa. Of course, Pa.

You also pointed to Mason's picture on Mama's dresser and said his name. You love your big cousin.

You have been giving me your version of kisses: You lean in, headbutt me, and say, "MAH!"

There aren't many days that go by when a portion of my lip isn't a wee bit fatter than the rest. You are sort of violent. You really enjoy throwing things at Mama.

You are learning your colors this month. Everything is blue at first ask. You also say "geen" and red and "dah." {Yellow. You say dah every time Mama says yellow. Silly boy!}

Favorite food of the month is grilled cheese. [Dada calls them cheese grill. He is soooooooooo weird sometimes. Love you, Josh!]

I'm not feeding you oranges again for a long time. We dealt with very frequent yucky poops & BAD diaper rash for several days after our orange craving. Looks like Mama needs to find  a substitute favorite fruit. 

You are obsessed with playing with your choo-choos. Mama has started thinking about you birthday party. Every day I ask you to choose who you want on your birthday cake: Elmo, Cars, or choo-choos.

You typically respond with all three. Oh boy.

I don't think you like winter very much. Mama has had a hard time getting you out of the door some days. You HATE putting on your winter coat and hat. I don't blame you.

This morning Mama had a little meltdown. You wouldn't go to the door, and when Mama bent down to get you, her cup spilled Wild Cherry Pepsi all over her jeans, coat, bag, Bible, journal, and planner. Then Mama just started yelling at you. Sorry about that.

After Mama got to work, she was no less upset, so she went down to the car to find her phone to call Daddy. Mama's phone was missing {at home in the Coke-drenched pants she changed out of}, so Mama just sat in the car and sobbed before her Maker.

Mama asked God for wisdom to know how to guide and discipline you.
Mama asked God to give you a desire to obey.
Mama asked God to point you to Jesus (because without Him, what will we do?).

I love you, precious boy. I hope you know how much this month has meant to me. God is teaching me through you ... to be more present, to be more patient, to be more trusting of Him.

Thanks for being you, John P.

Afraid

There was nothing special about Thursday. We stayed home all day.

We stayed dirty. We watched tv, laptop open.

I nursed him at least twenty times.

We ate grilled cheese for lunch.

I bathed. He played.

He fell asleep on my chest. His hair is too long and it was sweaty.

I fell asleep too, too gone to feel the wonder lying on my chest. Too tired and cold to face this day.

I answered emails. He napped.

Daddy came home. And we're off.

We're off, and I am afraid.

I am afraid that after all day at home with this guy that I have spent not one quality second with him.

I am afraid that I am missing it. He is mine, but he's growing, and I don't know how. He won't be mine soon enough.

I am afraid that I am too caught up in other things. Like what's for lunch. Like being productive. Like taking a bath.

I am afraid that I will look back and wonder what happened during 2013. The year he soars past two.

I am afraid that I will regret the way I spent my days.

Oh, how I want to spend my days with him.

Life Without You

Dear Pa,

I know that you can't read this. Even so, I write to you. It is good for me to write.

Life really hasn't changed much since you've been gone.

I still live in Michigan. Everyone else still lives in Georgia.

You've missed me getting a job. That's been really fun. I would have probably asked you about your favorite fabrics if you were here. Mine are LE2 & LE8 & CH1 (today) if you were wondering.

I cut bags. I ship bags. I buy bags. {It's true.} A men's collection is gonna come out in the spring. If you were here, I'd buy one for you.

Hudson was born on September 5. Hudson, yeah, it's a last name.

It's a first name, too, of a famous Jesus-follower who I pray our Hudson will emulate.

I call him Hudson Bee or H-Bee {or Big Beefy - borrowed from my friend, Josh Brown's Hudson}. He is HUGE. He went for his four-month-check-up yesterday. 22 pounds. 7 ounces. 29 inches long. Ya know, average. For a one-year-old.

He looks like Mase. And if you tilt your head just the right way and close one eye, he looks a little like A. [Gram says he looks like Ricky.]

John is really, really smart.

He says his ABCs. He counts to ten three; he counts (by himself) to three.

I want to start planning his birthday party. I think that it'll either be Cars, Thomas, or Elmo.

I'm hoping for Cars.

It's been kind of cold here. You would be impressed that I know what below 0 feels like.

Not good. It feels not good.

Oh, and there's a big difference between 0 and 10 degrees. Who knew?!

I haven't been back to your grave. Sorry about that. I will go the next time I'm home (Lord willing). I will sit with you. I will cry my eyeballs out.

Mama is keeping your grave fixed up real nice. She's also taking really good care of Gram.

I am still breastfeeding John. People at the mall look at me like I'm crazy, and I look at them like I'm proud.

I know that you would be proud of me. You taught me to do what's best for mine. Thank you.

My, how I miss you! I cry big ol' gator tears. I scrunch my face up 'til it stings.

It's hard without you.

Well, these are the things I would have told you sitting in the swing or over the telephone.

Was it "Yeller" or "He-ller." How did you answer the phone?????????

I can almost hear it.

The Grandpa Series: Part One

The Grandpa Series: Part Two

The Grandpa Series: Part Three

The Grandpa Series: Part Four

The Grandpa Series: Part Five

It's been seven months.

Busy.

One word to describe my life lately.

It's been busy.

It's been wonderful.

I am so thankful for my friend, Rebecca, who has given me a job {and sort of also given me a purpose} in Michigan.

When Josh and I moved to Hamtramck two years ago, I had a two-month-old. And not just any two-month-old. I had a two-month-old who was super skinny, not gaining weight, and not breastfeeding well.

Josh left his Masters degree unfinished. He had no job prospects. [Praise God, Josh completed his Masters in May of 2012 and now he has a great job teaching high school science.]

I didn't really want to move. I didn't want to leave my mama and the rest of my family who could help me out with this new little mystery my son. I didn't want to step out in faith, trusting only in God for where my every-single-thing-I-needed would come from.

But I left anyway. 

I followed my husband. Trusting that he had heard from God, that he was making the best decision for our little family.

I could talk all night about how happy I am with the decision that we made to leave Savannah and move to Michigan.

Oh, I often ask myself, "Why, oh why, did you leave Georgia, Ashley?"
{Especially on nights like tonight when it's 7 degrees outside.}

I ask myself that question, but I ultimately know the answer.

I left Georgia and came to Michigan for folks like these women that Becks and I began training tonight (to make your Better Life Bags).

I left Georgia and came to Michigan to solidify the Beams - you know, Josh and Ashley's version of the Beams.

I left Georgia and came to Michigan to learn how to mommy John P in the way that God leads.

I left Georgia and came to Michigan to team with Josh to pay off the debt {hey now, no judging} we acquired as a result of higher education. [Hopefully I'll be able to share our progress with y'all.]


I left Georgia and came to Michigan to be busy. Busy about the work of God.

{This was written a week ago. Sorry I'm just now posting. I've been busy.}

A Confession for 2013

Happy 2013, homies.

It's great to be here.

I have a wonderful job working with one of my best friends at Better Life Bags {which still allows me to stay home with my precious 19-month-old boy}.
Hubby is tearing it up in the science classroom.
We are breathing and healthy. It's great to be here. 2013. Wow.

But I am still not satisfied. I'm not sure if that's okay. If that's just how it is. Here on Earth, we live not satisfied.

Regardless, I have to press in, to press hard in to see if there's a way that I can be totally satisfied.

I have experienced God in my lifetime. Countless times. I have heard His voice. I have seen His protection. I have prayed with instantaneous results. He is here. With me. Close.

I know it. I know that He is, and yet He can sometimes feel so far away. I sometimes feel like I couldn't get next to God if I tried. {Lie alert.}

I am kind of new to Blog Land, but I've been watching all the mega-bloggers write posts declaring their word for 2013. They choose a word and it's sort of their theme for the year. The word they keep coming back to. The word that they're fighting to find evidence of in their lives all year long.

My word comes on the coattails of a confession. A difficult confession. But I am all about being honest on this little blog, so here goes.

I don't have a quiet time.

Did you hear me? In case not, I will say it again.

I don't read my Bible and pray everyday. 

I used to. I used to really look forward to my time with God. I used to crave it. Spending time with God was like putting underwear on. {Bad analogy? Sorry.} If I didn't do it my day was just off, and everything just felt weird.

I would move all sorts of things around in order to get time & space with God. It was important.

It still is important. It's just that I have this little boy. And I have this little house that I keep. And I know that may not seem like that big of a deal to some people. {Some people think, what does a SAHMama do all day anyway?} But it is a big deal. My son nurses approximately 20 times a day. [I'm not kidding. Yes, he is 19 months old, and YES, I am ok with this.] He is big. It takes a lot of strength to hold him while I'm nursing. My son also rarely takes naps. These may sound like excuses or blame-it-all-on-Johns. They're not. I just like to paint a real picture for people of what motherhood is about. It's sacrifice. It's work. It's wonderful.

But there are many days when my spiritual life consists of, "Thank you Jesus," when John narrowly misses an injury of some sort, and "Protect us, Father," when we're out & about or when I'm going to sleep. It is so hard for me to spend time with God in this season of life.

My word for 2013.

Intimacy.

Maybe a little bit of an awkward word when you think of all the implications, but I am referring {mostly} to intimacy in my relationship with my capital H-husband, Jesus.

This year I am choosing to daily fight (because that's what it will be: an uphill battle) to spend time with my Creator. I am choosing to hear His voice.

I am choosing this in the midst of chaos. In the midst of Elmo. In the midst of choo-choos. In the midst of nursing. I am choosing this in the midst of my life.

Oh, and it won't be quiet time. It will be intentional intimate time with my God {+6 days out of 7 LOUD}.

When I think about mine and my husband's relationship and how it's changed since John has been here, I laugh. I laugh because how silly I have been to not see that giving birth would change my relationship with my Father as well! He has not changed. He never changes. But, boy, have I!

Back to Josh and I. We have left John with a sitter to go out ONE TIME. In nineteen months - once. And that time we went with a large group of friends to a Lecrae concert. Holla! #Gravity

Anyway, Josh and I catch up & enjoy each other in the midst of it all. And we have had to get creative.

It will be no different in my relationship with God. Mama is getting creative. I can't wait to share with you my findings along the way.

In response to this blog, I hope my mama friends with do two things for me.

1. Get creative with your Creator. Carve out time & space to be intimate with Jesus this year because we could all use more of Him (John 3:30).
2. Give me some tips. What has worked for you in spending time with God? No shame in my game; I admit it - I need HELP!

And I believe that I will be fully satisfied. I believe it because ... "...this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent" (John 17:3) (emphasis mine).

Love y'all and thanks for reading!

Happy 2013. The year of intimacy.