Why I Rock My Daughter To Sleep.

I have been struggling with sleep issues with my 3-year-old lately. She's been waking up in the night, having difficulty falling asleep, and waking up really early (5:30, 6ish) even when she goes to bed later.

I have adjusted her bedtime. I have changed when we eat. I have cut liquids off at 7. I have read books, sang songs, cried it out, let her play, yelled, whispered, rubbed her back...everything you can imagine. It really hasn't made much of a difference.

I've also gotten a plethora of advice from other moms facing the same problem, either now or in the past with their own children. I so appreciate hearing what other moms have been through, because that's where I gather my knowledge. Books are great, but they are not always written by someone who has wiped boogers on their pant leg or eaten a half-chewed piece of pizza off a high chair tray or read 25 books before bedtime. I rely heavily on the experience of other mothers because they've been there.

All these things, as much as I appreciate them, have not particularly helped with the sleep issues. And as much as I try, I just can't help rocking my daughter to sleep, despite chronic back pain and interrupted sleep.

The reason may shock you. Make sure you're sitting down.

I made a choice to become a mother. Maybe a hurried choice, a less-than-intelligent choice, perhaps, based on the circumstances surrounding her conception. I may have jeopardized a lot of things in my life, but the fact is that it was my choice to carry my child and keep her. I chose her. She didn't choose me. Her life, the lessons she learns, the morals she keeps, the core of her character - I am in charge of building and shaping that. I am the one she will look to when she falls in love. I am the one she will watch fail, fall, and hopefully stand up and try again. I am the one she will cry to when she loses. I am the one who will hold her when she is scared. I am the one she will call in the middle of the night for advice. I will be there for her, because I chose to be. From the moment I knew she existed, I chose her. She is my daughter - my sun, my moon, and my stars.

From the moment we start our day, there are distractions - work, play, homework, toys, more work, plans, etc etc etc. Practically every moment of the day is filled with things that beg to be accomplished, and typically on a deadline. I dedicate myself to those tasks, because I'm charged to do so. June does a great job of keeping up with me, and she is usually my little helper. She's along for the ride, but she's often in the side car, hanging out on the fringes of the day, grabbing pieces of me as they become available. At the end of the day, we unwind in our own ways, sometimes watching a movie, sometimes playing, but I'm not always as engaged as I'd like to be. There doesn't seem to be a time of day that belongs to just Juniper and I, alone with each other to nurture and to love, until bedtime. At bedtime, it's just she and I, reading, rocking, and relaxing together. I've come to realize that this time is sacred to me - a ritual, if you will, of mother and daughter togetherness.

I've decided that I don't care if I have interrupted sleep. I don't care if I have to wake up at 5:30 in the morning [as long as there is coffee.] I don't care if my back hurts or if I have to sing a million songs at bedtime. I will rock my daughter to sleep because she needs me to. That is the one time of the day when it is just us, just her and I, separated from the noise and the distractions of the world. Neither of us has to be to work, or a playdate, or the store. It's just me, June, and the creak of the rocking chair, as I breathe in the smell of her hair and she slowly succumbs to sleep in my arms.

That is why I rock my daughter to sleep. I chose her, and I will choose her every day for the rest of her life.

Love,
Brooke + JuneBug

What We're Made Of.

Trials and tribulations. Difficulties. Catastrophes. Pain and sorrow. Anguish. These are not places we like to be. We don't wake up in the morning and think, "Today, I'm looking forward to some good, old-fashioned pain." We avoid situations that may cause us heartache, because we would much rather feel happiness and joy. We would rather have a smile on our face than a scowl.

Let me argue something, something I heard over the weekend that brought me so much clarity I had to squint.

"Where there is pain, there is meaning."

 Let that sit with you for a minute. Let it make you uncomfortable. Lean into it, lean into it so much that you break under the pressure. It might scare you, to let yourself stare pain in the face. Marinade in it, marry it, embrace it. Do you allow yourself to truly be in your pain? Maybe you let it sneak under the door, but do you let it meet you in the dark, vulnerable, raw places in your heart? When you let the pain seep in like the rain seeps into the dry earth, you will find a tiny, incandescent miracle - the pain will ebb and flow like the waves, but as the tide fades, where the waves once crashed on the shore, there is clarity.  There is a clarity and a meaning that you have never known. We run away from pain because it's like ripping off a band-aid; immediately painful and something we don't look forward to. What is beneath the band-aid, though? Is the wound still aching? Is it still an open, angry gash? No. The wound is healing. So it is with our heartaches, our anguish, our sorrows. Allow yourself to be in the middle of the pain. Stand in the storm, let the rain pelt your face and dance with the lightning, quake with the thunder, because after the storm, you will look around and see the new life it has brought.

The miracle of pain is that it teaches us what we're made of. I'm a youth group leader, and this weekend we had our annual retreat. The girls in my group along with my co-leader talked about this idea of building our houses. Everything that we do, every decision we make, are bricks in the house we have to live in. If you build your house out of broken promises, bitterness, resentment, anger, and unresolved pain, when a catastrophe strikes, your house will crumble. Conversely, if you build your house out of truth, hope, love, and most of all, strength, you will find that, with every new pain, your house gets stronger and stronger.

So be in the pain. Be in the sorrow. Don't wallow in it - rather, let it wash over you. Explore it. Talk to it. Experience it and allow it to ruminate in your soul. How you react to it, and the strength you gain from each experience, will be bricks in your house.

Build a good one.

Love,

Brooke + JuneBug

{Resolutions}

I've never been one to make really concrete resolutions. I've always known that life happens, and things get pushed and pulled and squeezed and changed and trimmed and suddenly, you've forgotten your resolution completely. The last few years, my resolutions have been more like paradigm shifts than tangible re-purposing of my day-to-day actions. Last year, I didn't even make a resolution. I intentionally said, "Nope," and just kept going. I think that, by refusing to make an intentional change, my mind sort of subconsciously made one for me.

This past year was one of ups and downs. I learned that I can push myself to the edge, but instead of just balancing there, looking down at the abyss, fearing for my life, I can jump off, and fly. I learned that I can be happy in whatever situation I'm in. I learned that things aren't always what they seem, but that I can (and should) be true to myself especially in those situations. I feel like I did a lot of soul-growth in 2013. A lot of it I kept to myself, because I felt like sharing it with too many people would jinx it. Looking back, I feel like not sharing it would be criminal, so here it is. Three resolutions (read: paradigm shifts) for 2014.

1. Know Yourself.

More often, as I get older, I find myself in situations that require a lot of self-knowledge. I'm confronted with new people, new places, questions requiring answers, etc. All of these things demand that I understand, to the very core, WHO I AM and WHAT I WANT OUT OF LIFE. It's easy to forget this, and to do what you think others expect you to do, or what feels right in that particular circumstance. When you find yourself in these situations, try to think about your future self, and what you would think of this particular choice looking back on it. Would you be proud? Or would you be ashamed? Would you make the same choice in different company? Or is this choice a response to your present company?

I sometimes feel setbacks in this area. I feel like I really know myself and who I am and what I want out of life, then I have to make a huge decision and I'm really stumped. These are the things that make us grow. Those hard questions that feel like they take eternities to answer? You're learning who you are in the midst of that decision. Getting to know yourself is nothing like getting to know other people. You ask other people what they're favorite food is. You ask about their political views and their family and their past relationships. You ask about their favorite movies and their children. You ask yourself what makes you happy. You ask about your insecurities and your temptations and your shame. You ask about your purpose and your intentions. Learn to really listen to your responses to these questions. Pay attention when confronted with difficulties - your response is part of who you are, the building blocks of the house you have to live in forever. Answer well, and pay attention.

2. Give.

 This is something that has become increasingly more important to me as I get older. I need to preface this with a disclaimer about things. Every now and then, I look around my room, my house, my life, and I reflect on how much I have. Friends, I call this perspective. I almost always have this moment of tremendous clarity when I realize how many things I have. Things are so troublesome. They create clutter, they cloud your brain, they make you covet other things, and they make you want more things. This past year, I looked at all my things and then imagined that those things were all tangible love. Love that I could give away. Love that I could share freely. Love that I could use to express my feelings. As I began to do this more regularly, a radical shift began to take place. I started to realize that I could give away my things and still have more than enough love to give away, plus keep some for myself. That leads me onto this idea of giving.

Giving doesn't have to be some great big elaborate show, where you sacrifice everything you have so that another person can be happy, and everyone claps and says what a spectacular human being you are. It is rather a smaller giving, for a bigger reward. Giving doesn't always come in the form of giving things away. You can give someone your time. You can give someone your attention. You can give someone your love. These are things that money cannot buy. It's wonderful to give a coat to someone who doesn't have one, or shoes, or money, or food. These are commendable, worthwhile things. However, sometimes, the greatest gifts are the ones that cannot be measured. For many people, the greatest gifts are the ones they didn't even know they needed. The beautiful thing about giving is that, as the giver, you are always rewarded just as greatly as the person receiving your gift. Just give. Give your time, give your hands, give your heart, give your love, as much of it as you can, as often as possible.

3. Be Happy.

This sounds so impossibly simple. It's easy to be happy. Is it really, though? I would argue that it's easier to be irritable. It's easier to complain than it is to count your blessings. One thing I've learned this year about being happy is that I have to constantly choose it. I am easily bogged down by pain, drama, sadness, anger, etc. I have made an intentional effort this year to look critically at each of those situations and find something that makes me happy, or something positive. Amazingly, each time I practice this, it makes the situation seem less awful. Even in the face of grief, finding something that makes me smile makes everything seem more manageable.

The same applies for the way you look at yourself. When you look in the mirror, do you instantly see your flaws? Stop it. Look instead for 2 or 3 things you like about yourself, every time you look in the mirror. Say those things out loud, over and over again, every day. Between this practice, and choosing happiness, I've found that my outlook on life is so much better. I find joy in nearly everything. I more confidently accept challenges. I know that I am of great worth, and I know that I have a lot to offer others.

I don't know if you will find the same clarity, the same strength in these 'resolutions' as I have, but I wanted to share them, just in case. I hope that your year is blessed.

Love,

Brooke + JuneBug

{Christmastime is Here.}

Hello Friends. It's been awhile.

It's nearly Christmas. I'm not a winter person, but I am definitely a holiday person, so I'm in my glory. I love the carols, I love the warmth of a well-decorated Christmas tree, I love the smells and sights and sounds. I love baking cookies and decorating them with family. I love giving presents to those I love. I love Christmas movies and lights and everything.

More than all of this, though, I love giving. I love giving presents. I love giving joy. I love giving smiles and happiness. All year long, I live to make people happy, but Christmas just feels like my time. It makes me come alive in a way I can't explain. I find the most sacred joy in giving away happiness.

So many people have so much more than they need, and they don't - or can't bear - to give it away. Some people have so much less than they deserve, yet they find reasons and ways to give to others. I have always striven to be that person. I struggle, yet I know that everywhere, there are people who have less than me, and are happier than I am with less. I have been trying to purge from my life, to get down to the bare minimum, because I need so much less than what society tells me I do. In that purging, I've been trying to consciously give to those who have less than me. I'm not doing it to get points. I'm not trying to build myself up. I just want to know that I have exactly as much as I need, and that everyone else has exactly as much as they need, especially if I can help in that goal.

All that to say, this is a call out to all of you. I ask you to look at your life. What do you have that you love? What do you have that you like? What do you have that you like but could do without? What do you have that you really don't care for but hang on to for whatever reason? During this holiday season, I urge you to look around you. Look at the faces on the elevator at your work. Who is tired? Offer them a free coffee. Who is wiping away tears? Offer them a hug and some homemade cookies. Who is hungry? Offer to take them grocery shopping. Who is hurting? Stop and look in their face and listen to their pain. Give them the world, even for 5 minutes. Who is cold? If you can afford to, give them your coat. Where can you help? What can you do?

Writing this, I have a lump in my throat. There are people in my life that I know will suffer this holiday season, whether it be an empty table, an empty Christmas tree, an empty heart. Can I change those things? No, but maybe I can soften the blow of the pain. Maybe you can change those things. Maybe, together, we can help people to find shards of happiness in their lives.

I can't explain to you why the pull on my heart is so strong toward this effort. Maybe it's because I know what it's like to have less than, and I know the unbridled joy of receiving the gift of help. I've been helped in ways that seemed impossibly wonderful. I've fallen to my knees at the perfect timing of specific gifts I've received. It's an unexplainable joy, to receive exactly what you need at exactly the right time. For me, this has morphed into an unexplainable joy to give exactly the right gift, to the perfect person, at exactly the right time.

I hope that, during this Christmas (and forever after), you can find this joy, harness it, then give it away, again and again.

Be blessed, and Merry Christmas.

Brooke + JuneBug

Being Nice.

Everyone has someone in his or her life who they find it extremely difficult to be nice to. It's a daily occurrence. In our culture, your level of sarcasm, anger, and quick wit are deeply valued. Your ability to be cold, turned off, and calculated is considered more important than your ability to feel deep, deep happiness.

Why is this?

The media is one answer. We are bombarded with homicides, bombings, accidents, and negative news every single day. We are given 'heroes' who win fights, triumph over everyone else, and blow stuff up in an effort to fix something.

In that vein, another reason is the people we exalt. They are often murderers, who kill in the name of something self-important. They are sometimes religious leaders, who advertise themselves as modern day Robin Hoods but are really crooks, taking for their own selfish gain.

I think one primary reason is our use of social media. I believe that social media can be a great influence, connecting people, helping introverts find their voice, and bringing unity across states, even countries. However, social media also provides a faceless place for people to hate others. It breeds pain, suffering, bullying, and hatred. You don't have to own up to anything if no one can see you. If you can't be confronted, you're off the hook.

I believe that a combination of these things is what is preventing us from simply being nice.

Now, I don't consider myself to be Mother Theresa or anything. I yell at drivers on the road (who can't hear me.) I gripe about how people talk to me. I complain about what someone said or did to me and how it made me feel. There is, however, one thing I try very hard to do every single day, in every single interaction with others: I try to be nice.

Growing up, one of the things my mother said to me more than anything else was, "Everyone is a soul." I didn't always know what this meant. I began to comprehend it in high school, when I was mistreated by many who didn't understand me. I started to understand more when my parents got divorced and I had to muddle through those feelings. I understood even more when I got divorced and I had to work out custody arrangements with Juniper's dad. Every single day, as I run a preschool, I am reminded of this reality. Every single person that you encounter on a daily basis is a soul, valued by the God of the universe and capable of every emotion you are. Everyone you pass by, smile at, meet, interact with, is fighting a battle that you know nothing about. There is no way for you to know unless you ask, but you shouldn't have to ask. Chances are, if you are having a rough day, someone else who crosses your path today is, too. Before you begin to reply to someone who might be pushing your buttons, think of this: Did they just find out that a parent has terminal cancer? Were they pulled over this morning? Have they just come from a funeral? Could they be having marital problems? Maybe they just received a foreclosure notice or lost their job. Perhaps their child has been missing for a day. Maybe they just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. No, that isn't your fault. However, you have the opportunity to perhaps make their day better just by being nice.

I have found, in my experiences with being nice, that people make one of two assumptions about me. One, they assume that I want something or that I have an ulterior motive. Two, they resort to sarcasm because WHO COULD POSSIBLY CHOOSE TO BE NICE IN THIS DAY AND AGE OMG. My reaction to those assumptions? Be nicer.

I try to teach my daughter many things. I try to teach her respect. I teach her not to stare but to ask questions. I teach her how to say please and thank you. I teach her that sometimes other friends get to go first with the new toy. I teach her that she needs to use her words. Above all of these things, though, I am teaching her to be nice. I want her to know that everyone deserves kindness, dignity, a smile, and a chance to say what they need to say. By the time that she's a teenager, I might be the only person in her life telling her these things, but I don't care. I want to be the squeaky wheel. I want to tell her to be nice so much that she's annoyed by it, but it sticks in her head and she can't help but be nice.  I want her to be the shoulder to cry on, the friend who will always listen, the friend who comes to your rescue, who calls you just to pray for you, who brings you muffins when you're sick, who buys a coffee for the homeless guy, who brings her leftovers to soup kitchens and asks the girl crying on the bench at the grocery store if she's O.K .I want her to know how to be nice, so that maybe, others will be nice to her, too.

Be nice.

Be nice.

Love,
Brooke + JuneBug

When A Child Cries.

It's been a long time since I've written a blog. I've been incredibly, indescribably busy. I'm starting to think that I may have bitten off more than I can chew, but it's too late now. I usually enjoy being busy, because when I'm not going 100 miles an hour, I feel unproductive. The last few days have been unproductive at best. Yesterday I didn't change out of my pajamas until 4 p.m. I've eaten irregularly, spent a lot of time laying on the couch, and haven't done much of anything. No, I'm not sick. My daughter is. We've seen 3 doctors in 4 days. It's been terribly exhausting, even though we haven't really done anything. The exhaustion comes from the stress of seeing my child sick, crying, and in distress, and being helpless to do anything about it.

A phenomenon occurs when our children cry, especially the legitimate "I'm hurt" cries, the cries while in the throes of sickness, and the cries of real fear and confusion. Our bodies respond to their stress. It's a vicarious phenom; an absorption of our child's emotions that are almost totally out of our control. I think it's an epic feeling of helplessness that causes this vicarious pain. Do children know how to cope with their stress? When they are vomiting helplessly, do they know relaxation techniques to help them breathe deeply to postpone the next heave? When they can't stop coughing, do they have the clarity to drink a few sips of water and sit in a room full of steam and try to catch their breaths? Of course not. They are in the throes of the moment. Their tiny bodies, when overcome with sickness, pain, or fear, stop responding to cues and sort of fall apart. Their tears are the only thing they have control over, so they let them fall, usually uncontrollably.

When my daughter cries, I typically have one of two reactions. If I can tell that she is 'faking it' I will gently comfort her, then ignore. If she needs help but wants me to do it for her, I try to encourage her to do it herself, then help her if necessary. I can usually just let it go, offer her a tissue, encourage her, and she's just dandy. However, when she is truly crying, whether it be from pain, sickness, or fear - I totally lose it. It's as if I forget that there is a whole world that is spinning and I just want to make sure that my daughter is alright. I want every tear to dry up and I want all to be right with her world again. This is, of course, impossible, as what she's experiencing is legitimate and this is the only reaction she knows. As I try to comfort her, she continues crying, and the above phenomenon starts to happen. I feel my eyes start to sting and there's that familiar lump in my throat. I forget how to be a grown-up and succumb to crying with my daughter, because I can't fix her and that's one of the most difficult feelings that comes hand-in-hand with parenting. Suddenly her stress is my stress and now we're both total wrecks.

I can't put my finger on why this happens, but I'm thinking it is somehow connected to maternal instinct, although I am sure that there are some fathers who experience this same reaction. I can keep it together in many other circumstances, and I can hold in my own tears, even if I'm having a really hard day. Yet, when it comes to my child and her health and well-being, I just lose it.

That's why the past few days have been so difficult. I haven't been sick, but my daughter has, and I've absorbed all of her stress and all of her pain and all of her fear over what's happening to her body when everything is out of her control. It's a helplessness that parents can't name or fix, so we cling to our babies and take on their stress because we can't go in and take out the sickness and make it our own. We have to do something - we're driven to do something - so we sit and cry with our children to feel like we have some control. We don't. Our children will get sick. Our children will get lost. Our children will get scared. We can't prevent those things from happening, but we can sit and cry with our kids and let them know that they don't have to experience the painful things in life alone.

Love,
Brooke + JuneBug

Top 25 Mom Blog Update

I have always loved to write; it's been a passion of mine since grade school. It's a way for me to release negative energy and then absorb the positive energy from the people who find hope in my words and share that with me. When I started this blog, I just wanted a place to 'vent,' to talk about how hard - and how rewarding - it is to be a mom. I've shared some of my greatest fears, hopes, and dreams here, and people are finding their own hope in these words. That's something powerful that I can't name. It's a connection you can't find in many other places. I feel so blessed to have this space to share my feelings and encourage you to challenge and accept yours. All that to say, someone out there in the universe has voted for me to be on the Top 25 Mom Bloggers list, and I am so, so humbled. I've received pageviews from all over the world, and that alone is success for me. I'm going to share my badge with you, so that if you feel so moved, you can vote, too. I really don't care if you vote or not, just as long as you keep reading and keep dialoging with me about your experience as a parent. That's what I find most valuable and that's what I hope to continue, especially if I get on the Top 25 list. That dialogue could spread to the ends of the earth and back, and creating that kind of community of parents - of mothers - is what I aim to do.

Love,
Brooke + JuneBug

Vote for me for Circle of Moms Top 25!