Berry Wedding

I have decided to channel my frustration about Lillian's struggle to go down for her morning nap (breathe in, breathe out) into a blog post. Pictured on the left is Lillian at a rehearsal dinner last weekend. They awesomely had cornhole boards set up for the young ones to play on. Lillian was a natural, sinking beanbags from 10 feet away. O wait. Nope. She mostly just climbed the boards, held on to the beanbags, and tried to hug all of the big kids, most of whom wanted nothing to do with her. She was undeterred though, and gamely soldiered on. She was a trooper the whole weekend, enduring weird scheduling, tons of people holding her, late bedtimes and a strange hotel room. We were very thankful at how well she slept in the hotel room. It was SO FUN to see her with friends from college. Seriously thankful for continuing friendships with so many great people and for the way they love my husband and baby girl. Now, if only we can come up with a strange but unusual talent/sport/activity that will get Lillian a scholarship to Wake Forest since it will cost a billion dollars to go there in 2029. 2029--doesn't that sound crazy futuristic?

The picture below is obviously from the wedding, too. My dear friend from college, Kate, got married and it was a beautiful thing! It was definitely the biggest wedding I've been a part of--11 bridesmaids, 9 groomsmen, 6 kids, 3 readers, etc. It was very Kate though, and everything went off perfectly. It's so fun to be a part of weddings that are "built for success." At almost four years in, I can say that marriage is wonderful, but also hard, and I can't wait to see where the Lord takes Kate and Carter in life. Go Team Berry!

A quick moment

Last time I fed Lillian scrambled eggs, she gobbled them down. Today, I scrambled an egg for her lunch. She took one small bite and then looked at me like I had just handed her rat poison. I put a few more bits of it on her plate. She then proceeded to systematically grab a little bit, give me the stink eye, mash it between her fingers and then slowly, deliberately, dangle it over the floor and drop it.

Sullivan was, of course, delighted by this course of events and eventually I just gave him the rest of the egg.

Musings of a safari-going mama

So, we went to Africa. Just returned this week from 2.5 weeks in Tanzania and Kenya. The trip of a lifetime, everyone who hears about it says. And it was, no question. Both of us would go back in about 0.2 seconds (with Lillian this time, mind you). Africa is a place that gets inside of you, if you let it. It is raw and real and powerful and painful and beautiful beyond imagining. I spent as much time as possible taking it all in--staring at the equatorial sun as it raced to the top of the sky; listening to the wind in the long grass; feeling the cracked earth beneath my feet; feeling the prick of a thorn against my palm; watching an almost full moon hang majestically between a million stars; enjoying a campfire's radiant heat; sensing the vast space of it all--gifts from a gracious God. And that doesn't even take any of the animals into account. Or the people. Or that fact that I've spent a measly seven weeks there and am in no way an expert.


I am so grateful to my in-laws for watching Lillian so that I could have all of these experiences. I definitely got a lot of flack from people for going, and mostly on the sly. "Oh wow, you're brave. I could never leave my child. In fact, I have never left my ten-year old for more than two days at a time." Or, a favorite from the church nursery yesterday: "Oh, you're back! Has Lillian forgiven you for leaving her for so long?" No doubt I am overly sensitive to these comments since I was very anxious about leaving her, and no doubt there are people who do, in fact, think that I'm a terrible mother. Now, before your fingers fly to the comment button to reassure me that I'm not, let me say that I am not bothered by people thinking that. Even typing this shocks me, a sufferer of FONPP (Fear of Not People Pleasing), but it's true. I love my child fiercely, and no one can take that away from me. It felt unnatural to be separated from her, but I survived. She survived. Thrived, even. Lillian is incredibly happy and healthy, and I'm so glad that my mother in law got to experience her huge smile when you come to get her out of her crib, or her cheeky "I heard you say no but I'm pretending that I didn't" grin, or any of 1000 other joys that come in everyday life with a baby. I cried when we said goodbye to her at security, and cried when I seized her out of Ellen's arms 2.5 weeks later in the exact same place. But I wouldn't trade the few weeks in between for anything.

As a mom (as a woman?), I feel like I'm constantly negotiating basic identity questions. Who is Ashley, vs. Thomas' wife, vs. Lillian's mom, vs. any of the other roles I play. Well, for a few weeks, my role as Lillian's mom faded to the background a bit. I missed her desperately and looked at pictures and talked about her constantly, but I got to remember what life was like before she existed. I got to drink wine and stay up late; I got to be a part of interesting discussions about African aid and conservancy projects; I got to hang out with my husband and make new friends and look at the stars and enjoy family time apart from nap times and diaper changes. Of course I am glad to be back to those things and wouldn't trade that precious little life for anything, but it was exhilarating to step back for a bit and remember why I am so blessed to have all of these things.

Oh hey blog, nice to see you again

Iwanttostartbloggingagain. Ahh scary! I have started so many posts since March 1 and have obviously failed to hit publish every.single.time. But, if I don't think too hard about the crooked horizon line in the above picture or the lack of content in this post, then I can hit publish and at least be back in the saddle so to speak.
Ready, go!