The question “How are you?” is commonplace in conversation. As a new mom, I find the answer to this question extremely complex. “How I am” at any given moment seems to depend on how Holden (who was three months old yesterday, believe it or not) is doing. If I’m being honest, however, I rarely answer the “How are you?” question truthfully. Unless you are a close of mine, I usually just reply by saying “I’m good. How are you?”  But since the goal of this blog is to give as accurate of an account of motherhood as possible, here’s how I REALLY am:

I’m thankful- For a healthy child. A husband who has turned into an incredible dad. Family and friends who want to invest in my son’s life. A job that I want to return to (part time) and that is flexible enough to allow me to do so. Cats that hate other people’s kids but don’t seem to be phased by mine.

I’m worried- That the doctor will discover that something’s wrong with my son or that he won’t develop properly. About raising a child in a world that is only getting further and further from God. That my stomach won’t ever be flat again. That I’m doing something–everything–wrong.

I’m excited- To see each new developmental milestone that my son hits. To watch his personality and character grow over the years. To take him to Disneyland for the first time.

I’m tired- Of getting up two or three times a night. Heck, I’m just flat tired.

I’m missing- Sleeping in on Saturday morning. Regular date nights with my husband. My independence.

I’m loving- Every little smile and coo. All the snuggling. Dressing him up in collared shirts and jeans.

I’m frustrated- That my house is never as clean as I want it to be anymore. That I can’t seem to get caught up on anything.That other people’s kids are sleeping through the night at Holden’s age and he is not.

I’m blessed- To have been given such a precious (chubby) little gift. By words of encouragement and advice from other moms who have walked in my shoes before. By a Savior who knows exactly what I need to hear each day and speaks those words to me through my quiet times.

I’m praying- Every chance I get that God grants me wisdom to know how to raise a child, because no matter how many books I read, I know that HE is the only One who can really guide me.

And now you know how I REALLY am.

In my last post, I mentioned my desire to return to a state of normalcy again now that Holden has arrived.  From sleeping in two hour blocks to not having much time alone with Hubs to yes, you are reading this correctly, my less than fashionable post-pregnancy wardrobe, things just feel so out of wack.  Unfortunately, I don’t think that life is going to settle down any time soon. While I cannot change Holden’s sleep schedule or the fact that Hubs and I will now need to hire a babysitter or send Holden to visit family in order to be truly alone, I can control what I wear… Sorta.

Last year I participated in Hilary Rushford of Dean Street Society’s Style Me May challenge and thoroughly enjoyed the daily outfit inspiration.  This month, Hilary is holding Style Me February and I’ve decided to give it a go.  Each Style Me challenge is primarily held on Instagram, so if you want to see what I’m wearing each day, be sure to follow me on there (@jennprentice).  I’ll also try to share the occasional outfit photo here on the blog.

Today’s Style Me February prompt is “My Happy Color.”  As boring as it sounds, my happy color is navy. I am in love with how classy and timeless the shade makes me feel.  Unfortunately, most of my navy clothing is not very baby friendly (read: tight and dry clean only fabrics).  So, I’ve chosen to wear my second favorite happy color: red. If you had told eight year old me that red would one day be my happy color, she would have laughed. Or, more accurately, cried, as she did any time a relative gifted her an article of red clothing. For some unknown reason, I hated the color red.

The outfit I chose today is perfect for a mom of a newborn because the cardigan is from Target and easily washable, the scarf is strategically placed and hides my post-pregnancy muffintop and the black tank top underneath it all is easy to pull up and pop a hungry baby onto the boob. I’ve paired the ensemble with my favorite Paige Denim jeans (seriously, these gems and a Belly Band got me through most of my pregnancy and are now helping me feel somewhat slender after baby too) and cognac colored Kenneth Cole boots.

The one thing you can’t see in this picture is my necklace. It’s a tiny gold chain with an “H” on it from an Etsy shop called Bip & Bop. My sister-in-law Nicole gave it to me after Holden was born and I am obsessed with it.

I won’t lie to you, getting dressed is a lot less interesting these days. Most of my wardrobe is NOT kid friendly, so my options are limited. However, I’m learning little tips and tricks for looking stylish while toting around a baby each day. I’ve compiled a list of what I’ve learned so far in the hopes that they will help other new moms or moms-to-be too. Enjoy and feel free to share your own stylish advice in the comments below:

- Tank tops and open front cardigans are your friends. Nursing tank tops are your BFFs. Target carries inexpensive and easy to maneuver nursing tank tops, but they run a bit big. I’m looking into alternatives.
- Invest in quality nursing bras. You might end up sleeping in them (I usually do) and you want them to be comfortable and easy to yank off and on in the middle of the night.
- Find a pair of jeans that make you feel slim and somewhat sexy and wear the heck out of them until you can fit into your old jeans or afford to buy a new wardrobe. If you don’t own a pair that fits you well during the awkward “I just had a baby” phase, buy one. Believe me, you’ll get your money’s worth.
- Separate your wardrobe into baby friendly and non-baby friendly fabrics. My rule: If I can’t throw it in my washing machine or if I’d be devastated if it got ruined, I don’t wear it when I’m taking care of Holden. Yes, this eliminates a LOT of my clothing, but it also eliminates a lot of sadness and frustration over clothing I’ll never be able to wear again.
- Focus on shoes and accessories. They’re the only things that will still fit as your weight fluctuates.

Like my previous post about my labor and delivery story, I feel it is important to document my first few weeks of motherhood so that I can give an accurate account of exactly what it has been like and possibly offer some tips and tricks that I’ve found useful in managing Holden’s first few weeks of life.

Before I go any further, let me say that Holden is a relatively easy baby. He eats and sleeps fairly well for a newborn, so any advice I am able to offer comes from the place of one who is not overly sleep deprived or stressed out by a screaming, colicky baby. For those  of you who ARE dealing with a fussy, sleepless newborn, I can honestly say that my heart goes out to you. You are more of a mother than I have had to be thus far.

Now back to the first few weeks of Holden’s life…and the anxiety and relief I’m feeling today…

We brought Holden home on Tuesday, January 8th. As I’ve mentioned before, I hate hospitals, so I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.  Driving home, there were so many things going through my head, but if I’m being honest, my main thought was “Oh my gosh. This kid is gonna be around forever. I can’t give him back.” That thought has come back a few times since then, especially during that first week when I was learning how to breast feed and getting up every two and a half hours at night to do so.

About four nights after we brought Holden home from the hospital, he woke up screaming with a rumbling tummy and lots of gas. Clearly something I ate did not agree with his digestive system. Fortunately, I had been keeping a detailed log of the food I’d been eating along with his sleeping, pooping, peeing and nursing schedule, so I took a look back and narrowed Holden’s stomach issues down to the peanuts and cashews in the trail mix I’d eaten earlier. This leads me to newborn management tip number one: Keep track of your baby’s schedule and your diet.

In those first few weeks, when things seem so out of control, it’s helpful to have a reference point for how your baby is doing and how your food intake may be affecting him. Plus, keeping track of your child’s dirty diapers as well as the times you fed him/her will help you know if he/she is getting enough to eat. Holden will be three weeks old on Monday, and I’ve stopped keeping track of his poops and pees (there’s definitely nothing wrong with his plumbing) but I’m still keeping track of my diet and nursing schedule.

After the peanut incident, I began to wonder what else I might be eating that was upsetting Holden’s stomach. One spicy sausage, some hummus and yet another screaming fit later, I decided it was time to watch my diet a bit closer. Starting this past Monday, I began cutting out spicy, fibrous, sugary and, of course, nut-based foods from my diet. Monday night, Holden slept for five hours and then four hours. He did the same Tuesday and Wednesday night; and last night, he slept for a solid six and a half hours in one stretch. While I can’t say for sure that his good sleep is due to my diet, I am sure as heck going to keep eating bland until my son proves that the two are not related.

Before Holden was born, I read a LOT of books about baby sleep habits, including: Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child; The No-Cry Sleep Solution and Babywise. I took notes on all of them and have referenced them numerous times since Holden’s birth. Newborn management tip number 1.5 is to do as much reading as you can BEFORE your baby arrives. You won’t have time after they enter the world. Newborn management tip number two is to take all of that reading with a grain of salt. No baby will fit perfectly into the mold laid out in these sleep books. However, they all provide good guidelines of things to do to help your baby get on a schedule and sleep well.

I’ve tried to organize Holden’s day into three hour shifts, starting right after his first morning feeding (usually around 5 a.m.). So, if he nurses for 20 minutes around 5 a.m., I try to keep him awake for another 15-45 minutes after that (more often than not, I am not successful at doing so) and then let him nap for the remainder of the three hours. Oftentimes, Holden wants to keep sleeping well past the three hour time block, but I rarely let him. Yes, you are reading that right: I wake a sleeping baby. And so far, that baby has been doing just fine, thank you very much. Which is why newborn management tip number three is: Follow your instincts, not what books or other people tell you is right or wrong.

As I mentioned earlier, Holden will be three weeks old on Monday and he appears to be going through his first major growth spurt. At least that’s what I’m gathering from the info on
the What to Expect the First Year app on my smartphone (Tip number 3.5: Download that app.) A growth spurt means that I’m nursing a fussier than usual baby every one to two hours. And yes, this means I am not following the three-hour schedule as closely as I’d like to; but if I’ve learned anything from Holden’s first few weeks of life, it’s this: Be flexible. (That’s newborn management tip number four, in case you were wondering.) Babies are unpredictable and cannot be controlled. Believe me. I am the queen of control freaks and would try to force my son into a routine if I could.

Having a baby will rip every last vestige of control you might have over your life out of your hands. Hence, the anxiety I mentioned that I was feeling earlier. While I desperately want Holden’s sleep schedule to become consistent and his naps to be a predictable length, the fact is that he is not even three weeks old yet. So, when he does go down for a nap, I feel a strange mix of relief that he’s asleep and anxiety over the fact that he could wake up at any moment.

I’m fairly certain that the commingling of anxiety and relief is something I will feel throughout Holden’s entire life. So, I’m thankful to serve a God who is big enough to handle those feelings and all the emotions in between. And that, my friends, is newborn management tip number five: Trust God and pray like crazy. If you are not the religious type, now might be the time to reconsider. At a time when so many things are out of YOUR hands, it’s nice to put those things…and your child… in the hands of the one who holds the world.

I’m not sure if they’ve isolated an exact chemical yet, but I’m fully convinced there is a chemical that is released into a woman’s body after giving birth that makes her forget almost the entire childbirth experience and romanticize it into something other than what it really was: probably long, definitely painful, potentially scarring. In an effort to give a totally accurate account of my experience to friends and family, both now and in the future, I thought I’d take a minute to share exactly what happened–the good, bad and the ugly–during my labor and delivery.

For those of you who have not yet had children, please remember, this is only one person’s experience. For every story like mine, there are ten stories that are WAY worse and ten stories that WAY better out there. Each woman is different and each woman’s body handles childbirth differently. This is merely my account of how my body handled my son, Holden Matthew Prentice’s, arrival into this world:

Labor: 23 hours 

Pushing: 3 hours 

Total time spent: 26 hours

I started laboring at 12 a.m. Sunday morning. My contractions were 10 minutes apart and lasted for one minute each. I figured that things would go on like this for an hour or two and I’d be contracting every five minutes and heading to the hospital to have a baby in no time. I was wrong. The ten-minute-apart contractions continued until about seven in the morning, at which point they were gracious enough to come 5-7 minutes apart, thus giving me a glimmer of hope that my baby might come soon. Again, I was wrong.

At 8 a.m., I went to use the bathroom and found some unsightly things coming out of my body. I’d been asking God for a sign as to when I should go to the hospital. I took blood and other gunk to be as good of a sign as any.

By 8:30 a.m., Hubs and I were at the hospital, and a nurse had her hand up my…well, you can guess where. She told me I was 3-4 centimeters dilated and 90% effaced. If you know anything about childbirth, you know that’s not exactly the best “diagnosis” you can ask for, but it’s not the worst either. In the nurse’s words, “We’re definitely going to keep you here. At 90% effaced, you should dilate pretty quickly and have this baby sometime today.”

Oh sweet nurse: You meant well. I know you did. BUT YOU LIED TO ME.

Rather than give you the play-by-play of the next seven hours–some of the longest hours of my life–I will sum it up by saying this: When your nurse asks you what level of pain you are at on a scale of one to 10, UNDERESTIMATE. Because just when you think it can’t get worse, it does. That being said, every time I thought I couldn’t make it through the next contraction, Hubs and I would pray and God would, in fact, grant me the strength to make it through.

At 4 p.m., the nurse came back to check my progress: Still 3-4 centimeters, but 100% effaced. Looking back, I think the Lord allowed me to progress just enough at each “check point” to give me enough hope to make it through a few more hours of labor. But, by 4 p.m., I was exhausted, and I was worried that if I didn’t get some rest I wouldn’t be able to push should this child decide he ever wanted to come out of me. So, I asked the nurse for some Fentanyl–a pain relief drug many of my friends have used to get some rest while in labor. Because I am a good friend, I am glad that the Fentanyl worked for my friends. Unfortunately, it did nothing for me.

Post Fentanyl, I labored for another two hours before reaching a breaking point. As I stood in the shower crying BETWEEN contractions because I was dreading what was to come, I remembered something my childbirth class instructor said: “There is a difference between pain and suffering. If you are in pain, push through it. If you are suffering, get an epidural.” I don’t know about you, but I consider mental anguish to be one of the worst types of suffering. So, while my pride told me to “DO IT WITHOUT THE DRUGS,” my common sense told me to “GET THE EPIDURAL.”

Fortunately, common sense prevailed.

If marrying Hubs was the best decision I’ve ever made, getting an epidural was the second best. It not only gave me the ability to rest, but it helped my body relax enough to finish dilating to 10 centimeters. Unfortunately, while my body had finished dilating, my water still had not broken; so my doctor came in and broke my water for me. Within an hour of the water breakage, I began to feel the urge to push.

(A note on water the urge to push for ladies who have not had a child yet: Said urge feels like you need to use the bathroom. A number two to be precise.)

The next three hours of my life are a bit of a blur.  Lots of pushing, lots of pressure, lots of screaming (Yes, that’s right. Contrary to the way I thought I would be, I am apparently a labor screamer.) After 2.5 hours, I felt Holden’s head come out.  Naturally, I assumed the worst was over and the rest of him would slip out effortlessly.  For what felt like the 20th time that day: I WAS WRONG.

My doctor continued to tell me to push, and at one point I heard him say “Can we get John in here for a shoulder removal?” But by the time John arrived, so had Holden. The continued pushing had worked and out he came. Granted, he did a little damage along the way, but nothing a few stitches and some Tuck’s medicated pads can’t fix.  Holden’s face was a bit blue when he came out and he wasn’t crying enough for the doctor’s liking, so they took him away almost immediately and gave him some oxygen.  While this should have made me panic a bit, I felt the Lord telling me not to worry. Holden would be ok. And for the first time that day, I WAS RIGHT.

As of today, Holden is nine days old.  I’ll share my initial thoughts on motherhood in a week or so. (First impression: It’s harder than you think it is before you have kids.) Before I close out this post, I thought I’d share some of the things I found helpful in managing the pain of contractions during labor.  As I said earlier, every woman’s labor experience is different, so what worked for me may not work for you.  But for what they are worth, here they are:

• If you are planning on a natural childbirth, see about getting a room with a tub and/or a shower.  Your body is more relaxed in warm water, and therefore, the contractions are a little less painful.
• Buy an exercise ball, blow it up and take it to the hospital with you.  Most hospitals have exercise balls in their labor and delivery rooms, but some do not.  I  found bouncing on the exercise ball or circling my hips in a Figure 8 on the ball to be very helpful ways to alleviate some of the pain of contractions.
• Walk.
• Watch the numbers on the contraction monitor.  This is something you can do whether you are doing things naturally or getting an epidural.  The number on my contraction monitor peaked at 127, so once I saw that number, I knew the worst part of the contraction was over and I could start to relax.

I sincerely hope that those of you reading this who have not had a child yet–or those of you who are on baby number two, three, etc–will have a slightly easier labor and delivery experience than I did.  That being said, I can assure you that what people say is true: the minute you hold your newborn in your arms, you do start to forget all the trauma your body just went through.  And I can honestly say–even at only nine days after giving birth–that it was all worth it.

My maternity leave officially started December 20th. Hubs–who had a week off around the holidays–and I enjoyed a lovely last Christmas together just the two of us. But now he’s back to work and I’m at home with lots of time to sit around and think. Mostly, I’ve been playing the “what if” game: What if I have to be induced? What if the induction doesn’t work and I need to have a c-section? What if God is giving me this time of rest because I’m going to have a difficult–or even worse-an unhealthy baby? None of this worrying is healthy. In fact, it’s downright sinful, and I’m sure it’s not helping my body relax its way into labor. So, I’ve decided to give up. On the worry and on the inducing.

If you’ve been pregnant before, you know that the entire 10 months is all about learning to lose control. (And yes, you read that correctly too: 40 weeks is actually 10 months. The whole 9 months thing is just a lie designed to fool women into thinking they won’t be pregnant for “that long.” WRONG. You’re growing a child for almost an entire year, ladies.) Never in my life have I felt so out of control of my body, my emotions and just about every other aspect of my life, really, than when I’ve been pregnant. I cannot control my own flatulence, let alone how I feel, what this kid will look like/act like or when he will make his way into the world.

Earlier today I was reading Romans 12. Verse 12 says: “Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.” I’ve been repeating this verse to myself all day and trying to put it into practice. Rather than get frustrated that I’m still pregnant, I’m trying my hardest to find joy in doing the things I probably won’t have time to do once Baby P arrives. (See exhibit A at right: finishing my first official knitting project. A 1.5 year labor of love.) I’m determined to be patient, knowing that pregnancy will come to an end one way or another in just a few short days/weeks. I’m reminding myself that being overdue is not an affliction. True affliction does not end with new life and a beautiful baby boy. (Oh, how I hope he’s beautiful. I know I’ll love him regardless, but I’m also pretty sure I’ll know if he’s ugly.) And most of all, I’m praying like crazy. For myself–but mostly for others–because I’ve found that looking outside myself is one of the best ways to stop worrying about me.

In my last post, I shared some reflections on pregnancy and life at the 16 week mark.  (I still find all of those to be true.) With 2012 and most of my pregnancy behind me, I thought I’d share a few other things I’ve learned over this last year. It’s my top 12 of 2012:

1.) You cannot stop people from touching a pregnant woman’s stomach. Even total strangers (read: homeless men and Asian nail salon owners).

2.) Life is too short to not indulge in some of your favorite foods. Especially around the holidays.

3.) Everyone’s experience with something (ex: pregnancy, motherhood, etc) is unique. You shouldn’t let people freak you out, nor should you let people lull you into thinking that everything is going to be smooth sailing.

4.) Not every day has to be a productive one.

5.) TV is the ultimate time waster. If you DO want to have a productive day, don’t turn it on.

6.) Be present. (read: put down the cell phone; stop using social media so much)

7.) Relationships–with people and with the Lord–take time, effort and perseverance. The most worthwhile ones require the biggest investment.

8.) You will never regret getting in a good workout, no matter how tired you are.

9.) Pray continuously.

10.) Give generously.

11.) Stay informed about current events (politics, etc) and form an intelligent opinion of your own. Ignorance is neither bliss nor attractive.

12.) Listen to other people’s opinions. If you don’t agree with them, understand why.

Ok. Your turn. Share your lessons from 2012. GO!

Alright, let’s just go ahead and state the obvious: It’s been a LONG time since I’ve written a blog post.  For once, however, I think I have a legitimate excuse.  Russ and I are having a baby…a baby BOY to be exact.  (Ok, technically, I’m the one having the little guy. I just like to make Russ feel included since he did “have a hand” in creating him.) The past few weeks have been insane. I’ve felt things physically, mentally and emotionally that I never thought I would feel (more about those in a bit) and I’ve learned a lot about myself and, most importantly, God, and the way that I view Him.

Since my first pregnancy didn’t go as planned, Russ and I wanted to be super cautious about how long we waited to tell people about the pregnancy this time.  As of today, I’m 16 weeks pregnant (officially past the first trimester) and from the looks of the 13 week ultrasound Baby Boy Prentice is healthy, developing normally and very very wiggly. Therefore, Russ and I felt it was ok to make a grand announcement.  (This blog post is as grand as it gets.)

My official due date is January 1, 2013, and I’m really hoping to have the first baby of the new year. I hear you get a lot of free stuff; and after pushing a child out of my nether regions, I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say I will deserve the stuff. (For those of you wanting to purchase stuff, I’m registered at Target and Babies R’ Us…I kid. I kid. But seriously, I’m registered there.)

Before getting pregnant a lot of my friends had shared their own stories about the nine months before they had their little bundle of joy; and as I’m sure most of you ladies know, pregnancy reviews range from tales of nausea (“I paid homage to the great white throne every morning”) to the nauseatingly glowing (“I’ve never felt better: My skin, my hair, my nails. Everything was so healthy and I had so much energy!” Insert rolling eyes here). Thus far, my son’s gestation has been rather average. Minus what I think was actually a mild case of pre-partum depression (I’m coining that term since I don’t think there is such a thing) horrible food aversions (Everyone talks about the cravings. No one mentions the aversions.) and waves of fatigue like I’ve never felt before, I’d say I have very little to complain about.

That being said, I’ve learned a few lessons over the past four months that I thought I’d share with all of you. Here’s my top ten pregnancy takeaways four months in:

1.) Some people really do have to pee every hour…even at night.
2.) It is actually possible to burp and break wind at the same time.
3.) Even the biggest spender can learn to save.
4.) God is an incredible creator.
5.) I am blessed way beyond what I deserve.
6.) You can be phenomenally excited and extremely terrified at the same time.
7.) Boobs have (big blue) veins too.
8.) Sometimes you really can’t keep your eyes open.
9.) My husband is an incredibly understanding individual.
10.) When the doctor says my son is “sitting low,” he clearly means on my hips, thighs and butt.

If there’s an 11th thing I’ve learned, it’s that no one likes to share their war stories more than a mother or a mom-to-be, so lay it on me ladies. What were/are your pregnancy takeaways and words of wisdom?

Dress: Target ($17.48)

Bangles: WalMart (They were a gift, so I’m not sure of the exact price, but come on, it’s WalMart.)

Even though you can’t really see my watch, that’s from Fossil. It’s from an outlet store and cost less than $50. My shoes, which you definitely can’t see are from Nine West. They were under $50 when I purchased them, but are now out of stock.  Here’s a similar pair.  They cost a bit more money, but I guarantee will be worth every penny.

]]> http://jennprentice.com/2012/04/under-20/feed/ 0 http://jennprentice.com/2012/04/the-258-project/ http://jennprentice.com/2012/04/the-258-project/#comments Wed, 18 Apr 2012 04:13:43 +0000 Jenn http://jennprentice.com/?p=503

There are only 258 days, 36.5 weeks and 8.5 months left in 2012. At the beginning of the year, I, like so many others, made some resolutions.  With the first quarter of the year over, I wanted to take stock of how well I’m keeping my News Year’s resolutions, and the truth is, I’m failing miserably.

I intended to read through the Bible in an entire year in 2012.  That equates to reading at least four chapters per day.  Most days, I’m lucky if I read one.

I told myself I was going to stop shopping and donate my monthly clothing allowance to a worthy cause.  Not only have I shopped every week, but I’ve probably spent more than my monthly allowance (as elementary as that sounds, that’s really what it is) in January, February and March.

I wanted to go on a mission trip.  I suppose this goal is still doable, though with Hubs and I toying with the idea of trying to have another baby this year (this is how our first attempt turned out), that possibility seems less and less likely.

And of course, there were also the usual resolutions: floss daily (the only strings I’ve seen this year are the ones I’ve picked off my clothes), take my vitamins (I’d say I achieve this goal 50% of the time), eat better and exercise more (once again,  a 50-percenter).

From failure to freedom

While old me (a.k.a- the person I was before moving to California) would have wallowed in my failures and probably thrown in the towel for the rest of 2012, I’m realizing more and more how destructive that way of thinking is.  If I gave up every time I failed, I’d probably be 50 pounds heavier and jobless… and I definitely wouldn’t be married to Hubs.

So, in an effort to remotivate myself–and hopefully some of you–as well as remind us all that tomorrow really is a new day, I’m instituting the 258 challenge. The point of the challenge is to remember the things you set out to do in 2012, forget all the ways you have failed to do them and start fresh.  Today. Tomorrow. Next Monday. 258 is just a number that represents whatever day it is that you choose to start working towards your goals once again.

On my mark, get set, go

Starting tomorrow, I’ll be recommitting myself to my New Year’s resolutions as  well as setting a few new goals for myself on a monthly basis.  For April, my goal is to revamp The (now defunct) Style Geek (details to come), sync it up with JennPrentice.com and give all my social media accounts a similar style and branding.

Perhaps I’ll succeed at accomplishing it all.  Perhaps I won’t.  Most importantly, however, I will have tried. Because as trite as it sounds, it’s not how many times you fall down, it’s how often you get back up.

Who’s with me?

Holy storms, Central Coast of California! It’s been raining cats and dogs this week–we even got a few flashes of lightening and some thunder–and I haven’t felt like doing much more than reading, drinking tea (and by tea, I mean wine) and cooking comfort food (and by comfort food I mean sweets and carbs like homemade oreos, blondies and penne pasta).  I’ve spent some much needed time with friends and gotten a decent bit of work accomplished (see TEDxSanLuisObispo website here, Facebook page here and Twitter feed here) and even managed to write a bit on my other blogs.

I attribute my productivity to not needing to think up what outfit I should wear everyday (cause, you know, that’s clearly the most mentally taxing thing I do all week).  I’ve simply woken up each morning and thrown on my rain uniform: leggings (Old Navy), over-sized shirt, scarf, rainboots (Oprah loves them too) and trench coat (Old Navy, similar here).

I’m probably starting to smell, but my allergies are so bad right now that I’d never know.  (That’s clearly why my lips are parted in the picture above. I’ve become a mouth breather.) Here’s hoping the sun will come out tomorrow and I can throw this stuff in the wash.

“Of course you are disappointed with your marriage.  It is not a sin to admit that. It is not betrayal. And it need not be an earthquake…Of course you are disappointed; your spouse is disappointed too…Two broken cups cannot possibly fill one another.”  - John Eldridge, Love and War

I’m willing to bet you had one of three reactions to that quote.  You either:

a.) Vehemently deny the veracity of that statement

b.) Breathed a sigh of relief

c.) Shook your head in knowing agreement

Regardless of how you reacted, hear me out.

We are broken people. Many of us come from broken homes with imperfect parents. If our parents weren’t the problem, it was someone else somewhere along the way. One way or another, we’ve been cheated out of the love, felt insignificant or told we were not good enough.

Whether we realize it or not, those wounds and insecurities enter our marriage with us. Maybe it takes a year or two for them to surface. Maybe it only takes a week. But broken people cannot expect to give a wholly completing love. If each of us is a mozaic, we can only look to another person to supply the glass shards.  As pretty as they may be, they will never be the glue that holds it all together.

That glue is a relationship with God.  In fact, in chapter four of Love and War, Eldridge says:

“The greatest gift you can give your spouse is a relationship with Jesus Christ…I’m not simply talking about believing in God.  There are many good people who believe in God, but for all practical purposes they still look to their spouse to make them happy…I’m talking about a relationship where you are finding in God the life and love your soul so desperately needs…The love of God is real, and personal and available. He wants this for you.”

I’ll admit, I’ve often struggled with what a “love” relationship with God looks like. What I’ve come to realize is that it’s very different from and yet so similar to a relationship with Hubs.  Obviously, I don’t feel the same type of romantic feelings for God that I do for Hubs, but what I do feel is a longing to spend time with God every day.  In fact, I notice a difference in my demeanor and emotions  when I don’t spend time in prayer or I go too long without reading the Bible.

Like Hubs, I know that God wants what’s best for me and delights in blessing me with things that make me happy.  A beautiful sunset, good friends, my recent raise at work, these are all examples of God’s love for me.  And just as marriage takes sacrifice, so does my relationship with God.  I can say with complete conviction that the sacrifices made for both relationships are worth it.

“The secret of happiness is this: God is the love you are longing for,” Eldridge says.   So don’t be afraid to admit that your marriage is not as fulfilling as you thought it would be.  Your spouse can’t be all that you need and he/she never will be.  When you realize that and put your relationship with God first, all other relationships–especially your marriage–fall into place.