[I cried in the glitter aisle]
Hellloooo family and friends!
Boy do I have some explaining. I have all these blogs and thoughts to post, but for so long I HAD to take a hiatus because the news of our pregnancy had not yet been made public- and honestly, I had no business spilling all the details of life on here and leaving that detail out, it's just been too big and really just the biggest part of the last few months!
I have some posts still to come that have been stirring in my soul about my moving to Roanoke, the news of becoming a mom, the incredible adventures I've been on this summer...and that is all to come, I do promise that; however, I wanted to start back with being honest about something funny.
This week I cried in the glitter aisle. At Walmart.
I wish I could tell you it was just a glistening tear, but you know, that just wouldn't be truthful. It wasn't pretty. It was ugly, confusing, and way out of character. (#pregnancy)
If you've ever been pregnant, or even if you haven't, you either know or can imagine the pressure of being pregnant in the 21st century can be when it comes to announcing details like you know, the fact that YOU ARE PREGNANT AND TAKING ON THE BIGGEST RESPONSIBILITY LIFE CAN OFFER, and that's just the start; there's the gender to announce in a Pinterest worthy manner, the name to not only decide on, but also somehow present in a cute way and this is just the start. There is pressure to post updates every. single. week. letting the world know what your favorite app is guessing the size of your child growing inside of you is. (lemon? avacado? EAR OF CORN? what?) There's pressure to take on a lot of the showy stuff, and when you're a creative and a photographer like me, the pressure is R E A L. I've had to do a lot of processing (#introvert) and really just had to make the decision to choose my own way with all of these details.
Fast forward to us finding out the gender of our precious child (IT'S A BOY). Leading up to all of this, I thought I would have one of those flashy parties where people wear buttons of their guess of the gender and I would rig some canopy with all the glitter and confetti I could get my hands on...pull the lever and it would just fall from the ceiling all over me and Clay and everyone in attendance and we would all cry and be so happy and then eat cake with blue or pink filling.
But you know, things got closer, life was busy running a business, moving to a new city, being pregnant (you know, small things) and as it was getting close to when we were going to find out the gender, I just lost it. I was so stressed with the pressure of having some HUGE MOMENTOUS moment that I lost view of the point. That we've been given the gift of parenthood. That I don't have to have people guess the gender. That I don't need everyone I've ever shook hands with to be covered in glitter.
So we simplified. Super simple cookout. No pink and blue napkins. Just a few people, and a balloon filled with a small amount of confetti and glitter that may or may not fall directly on us and only us after we shoot it with air-soft guns (glitter and guns basically describe me vs. Clay) It was honestly so sweet and perfect and one hundred percent all that we needed.
I'm grateful for perspective and conviction. When we were initially buying the supplies, I was looking for the blue bottle of glitter and I kid you not, the ONLY BOTTLE of blue glitter was half-empty. HALF-EMPTY. Cue the tears which spurred on this post.
But then the craziest thing happened, Clay walks around the corner of the glitter aisle holding streamers, balloons, and a bottle full of blue glitter. He had already gotten the last bottle and was ready to roll.
So grateful the Lord gives us sweet moments to be present over perfect, that He sent me the sweetest and most patient husband that when I cry over glitter, we can pretty much immediately laugh about it and add it to our favorite memory bank.
Ps- shout out to my mom who handled it like a champ when her super pregnant daughter cried about blue glitter. You're the real MVP, mom.
xoxo,
Aly