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When neighbors in Brooklyn asked where we were moving, “New Jersey” didn’t come as much of a surprise. What did get a response was that we didn’t buy our own house; we moved in with John’s family.

 

The overwhelming response to that bit of information was that it was wonderful, good for everyone involved. I wholeheartedly agree. There will be challenges for all of us at different points, but this is the right next step. I kind of thought I’d be sadder about leaving Brooklyn. I have enough peace about the move that I’m really only looking forward.

 

When I think about it, most of my perspective on this move came from a week I spent in Belize City, Belize something like six and a half years ago. I was on an international immersion program. My group was signed up to build a simple 16-foot-by-16-foot wooden home for a family in need, through Hand in Hand Ministries.

Junior Year - Belize (28)

Needless to say, it was humbling to see the size of the house the family we were building for would live in. As I recall, the family consisted of a grandmother named Louise (just like my mom), a man I think was her husband/the grandfather, and an adorable little girl named Shania. There might have been more family members who would come and go, but these three were around for the week.

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This active ingredient helps in relaxing the muscles and opening the blood vessels in the body) which is caused by heart disease, high cholesterol, and diabetes. order cialis online In general terms too, two products in the same category available for medicines in the same brand, such as levitra online. Whatever may be your age, you can take super cheap viagra unica-web.com prescription to give a kick-start to your love-life. Sometimes it tadalafil canada find for more may impair the color vision. I think it was Wednesday when we got held up, owing to a local shortage of lumber. Thursday, things got worse: we learned that our family did not legally own the plot of land we were building on. An old verbal agreement had run its course, and they did not have permission to construct something permanent where we’d already begun. We ended up loading what we had built onto a trailer and bringing it across town to the next family on the list. We didn’t have any other choice.

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I was not a crier back then (before the kiddos), but that was enough for even me to break down. I look around myself now, and I can be nothing but grateful for the home I have. Is it entirely my own? No, but nothing is. Is this where I thought I’d be when we got married four years (and four homes) ago? No, but what I thought is not always what’s best.

 

If I’ve learned anything from motherhood, it’s that what I have—my time, my love, our couch—is not just for me. I am not just for me. I am here to be part of a community, a family.

 

Making the decision to move took something like thirty seconds. We knew it was the right thing. We knew it would be hard. We knew a whole lot of wonderful things would come from it.

 

So here we are. In the suburbs. No longer New Yorkers. Onto something new. And as far as I’m concerned, we’re exactly where we need to be.

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Summer Time

There’s a saying that you vote with your money, that is, the way you spend your money manifests your priorities, your values, and so on. I’d argue that the same is true of your time. The way you spend your time is a show of what’s important to you and what isn’t (even if you think it should be).

 

I was recently talking to a couple of friends who had just welcomed their second children. We talked about the changes in our perspectives on mothering when there was more than one little one in our care. For me, the biggest shift was in giving myself permission to take time—time to heal physically, time to adjust the family’s schedule, time to let my work flow back into my day-to-day without causing an upheaval.

 

Along with this, of course, came John studying for his test and our preparing for our move. Every evening, John and I consider what needs to get done and how much of that we can reasonably accomplish. Our family’s time is carefully managed, and when it isn’t, to be honest, we pretty much just pass out.

 

Managing time during the day with two little ones is a different story. There are days when I want to get other things done, but a little voice saying, “Mommy, want to play toys with me? Let’s play fire truck!” win out. When I choose my tasks over time with him, there’s a real difference in his behavior, and one that I don’t think is really his fault. This isn’t to say that Jacob can’t play by himself—he can and he does, every day. But he can’t play by himself all day. And I don’t want him to; I want to enjoy him as a two-year-old, just as I enjoyed him as a baby and I will enjoy him as a grown up, one day (ahh!).

 

Anyway, our last weekend in Brooklyn, we all slowed down. I had a morning to write. John and I both got our hair cut. At said haircut, I opted to read a novel rather than make small talk with the hairdresser, which I’m pretty horrible at. Writing and reading like that—with enough time to really commit to it—reminded me why I love these things so much. When there isn’t time to do them, I wonder why I bother; they don’t seem like fun when they’re jammed into little crevices of “free” time. But when we make an intentional effort to work them into life, they are so, so enjoyable.
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It’s odd to connect the two, but I find the same is true of parenting. When I focus on making it my number one priority minute-by-minute, rather than day by day or an even broader margin, it’s enjoyable. Does that make sense? Of course parenting is my number one priority always in theory, but sometimes I think I can multitask a little too much, and I lose focus on everything. When I try to squeeze something else in to the day, it all falls apart. On the other hand, when I give my schedule room to breathe, everything is easier, more fun, and more productive. My kids are happier, I’m happier.

 

I realize this is not my doing. Just before things started to fall into place a little more, I’d begun saying morning prayer with Jacob over snacks. We missed a few days here and there, but he’s learned to gently remind me when I forget. We are taking time together, in the smallest of communities, to let prayer into our lives this way.

 

How do I manage to keep calm when I am tired from the heat, a teething baby, and a toddler who desperately wants to help with food prep that only involves a very sharp knife? Not because I found the key to parenting, but because I welcomed Jesus back into our house in prayer. The more time we spend that way, the closer our family becomes, the better off our children are, the happier our marriage is.

 

This summer has been hot. It has been busy. There have been teething and fevers and minor allergic reactions. We’ve traveled a lot and messed with our sleep schedules. But at the end of the day, we have each other and we have a Faith that strengthens us. And that—in every minute of every day—is more than I could reasonably ask for.

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Garden State-Bound

Here’s our last post from Brooklyn. In honor of our new home, here are eleven of my favorite things about the great state of New Jersey, in no particular order:

 

1. Bagels

2. Diners

3. Frankie Valli

4. Meryl Streep

5. Bon Jovi

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7. Taylor ham

8. The fact that you can’t pump your own gas

9. My family

10. Our church

11. Bagels (this repetition is NOT a mistake)

 

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