Cult of Ezzell

Nora’s new favorite thing is yelling at storms.

Nora: “HEY STORM!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
Ben: “Yeah, you tell that storm who’s boss.”
Nora: “HEY! YOU ARE THE BOSS!!!”
Ben: “No, tell it you are the boss.”
Nora: “HEY STORM!!! I AM THE BOSS!!! YOU LISTEN TO ME!!!”

The sky in Oklahoma is about five times the size of the sky most places. Our lack of geographical excitement gets credit for this. I might trade a little sky for a serious mountain or a legitimate tree some days, but it definitely has its perks. One of the coolest things is being able to see the line of the rain approaching. It doesn’t photograph well, at least not on an iPhone camera, but it really is a sight.

It’s not the best picture ever, but I tried to capture the sunset in front of us and the complete, stormy darkness behind us. The weather quickly rolls in and wreaks havoc, then sweeps along down the plains…

I have started and deleted probably ten blog posts in the past few days.  Things have been a little crazy in my little world, and I find myself wanting to talk about all of it, to really hash it out in my own words, in my own space…  But when it comes down to it, that isn’t what I want.  I feel like I have been running defense, responding to the things others say, correcting misinterpretations or misunderstandings, explaining my point of view, trying to validate myself over and over on so many levels… This makes me automatically want to go on the offensive.  My natural response is to blast out WHO I AM and what I think is the absolute RIGHT answer to ALL THE THINGS, but… I stop.  And I start.  And I stop.

I think the stopping is what I need.  The stillness, the simple knowledge that I am enough, my family is enough, and peace is available.

I don’t speak about my faith all that much just in daily life.  It’s something intensely personal to me, but also something I think should be evident by the way I conduct myself.  My own version of Christianity may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it works for me.  My focus has always been on the relationship with Christ, on the support and comfort I find in the Holy Spirit, and less so on the semantics… I have read the Bible cover to cover, I have read books analyzing it, and have always been interested in it, but it’s secondary to me.  It seems to be the primary part of Christianity to so many.

A song I haven’t heard in a long time came into my head this morning and I couldn’t even tell you who sang it.  It’s probably from the early 90s, contemporary Christian.  The lyrics that have been following me are “He gives beauty for ashes, strength for fear, gladness for mourning, peace for despair.”  I have really been finding peace in that today.  The verse it was taken from is Isaiah 61:3, “To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified,” and that somehow seems less poetic.  I generally prefer the NKJV of every verse, but… Less so in this case.

When I was younger, my parents tried out a bunch of different brands of Christianity.  We went to an Episcopal church when I was very young, and after that mostly some form of non-denominational church of varying severity before winding up at Grace World Outreach for most of my life at home.  I’m not going to get into a play-by-play of my church history or anything, just a little background for the one thing I wanted to share.  When I was maybe 14, there was a visiting group at our church, speaking about prophesy.  A ton of people from other area churches came and it was kind of a big deal (my memory isn’t crystal clear on this, so feel free to correct me if you know better than I… I may have been older or younger, it might not have been that big of a deal, but it was in my mind).  During this, I was prophesied over.  The woman who spoke to me said that I had a deep, deep well of peace inside me, and that I could draw those around me into so that they might be covered.  I don’t know if it’s true, but it comforts me at times like this.  I hope I can spread a little peace here and there, anyway.

Take time to enjoy just a little stillness, if you will.  That is my personal battle.

Having a second baby has been so much easier on me physically, mentally, and emotionally than having a first. Don’t get my wrong, my Nora is an angel sent straight from heaven and the sky opens and a beam of sunshine falls on her head and harps start playing the moment I look at her… As much as any two year old, but becoming a parent was rough! No matter how much you read, how much you babysit or nanny, how many parents you talk to, nothing can prepare you for becoming a mother. The highs are beyond anything you’ve ever dreamed of… As are the lows. I remember a night/morning when Nora was a couple weeks old. Ben was in Norman because he was in law school, and I was at my wit’s end, so I did what any sane person would do. I called my mommy. She rushed over as quickly as she could and held my screaming baby until she got her into a sound sleep, then sat on my bed and held me as I cried my eyes out. I just remember saying over and over “No one tells you! No one tells you it will be like this! There’s no way to know until you’re going through it!” The truth is, of course, people try to tell you. They try to give you a snippet, at least… No one wants to totally terrify a potential new parent into not experiencing the wonder that is parenthood just because a good chunk of it makes you want to pull your hair out. Even if someone could put into words exactly all the feelings you go through as the parent of a newborn, you childless folk would just sit back and think, smugly, that it will be different for you… And you would continue being wrong.

Next to having the experience of parenting a newborn before, the best part of having a second is that your first can help out! It takes a little work at first (read “We don’t pick up the baby by the neck! …Or at all without an adult!!”), but even one as small as Nora can be pretty helpful in a pinch. Case in point: showering.

With the first baby, even when she was dead asleep, not a freight train through the bedroom could wake her, I still couldn’t shower without another adult in the house for the first few months. What if something horrible happened?? Kidnappers in through the window, surprise tornado taking off the roof and taking my baby to Oz, or something plausible, like she wakes up and fusses mildly, not sure where that one person who smells like food went?! Eventually, I would bring her into the bathroom, put her in her bouncer, and take a 4 minute shower with the curtain halfway open, and even that caused me to hyperventilate.

Fast forward a couple years to this morning. The girls and I are home sick. I bathed them both last night, but haven’t bathed myself in a couple days… And Nora has taken to coming up, throwing herself into me, and telling me I’m smelly. Sigh. Anyway, Eme was mostly sleeping or looked pretty chill and Nora was in a Tangled trance. I put the baby in the middle of our king bed and put the big kid on baby monitoring duty. She was to report all change to me in the shower, maybe three yards away. Moments later,

Nora: “Mommy, her’s awake.”
Me: “SHE’s awake? Is she being sweet or is she upset?” (Never too awkward of a time for a grammar lesson, I say…)
Nora: “She’s crying”

Nora sounds pretty annoyed by my question, which conveys to me that she woke her up by prodding and poking, and duh, the baby is crying. I tell her to pat the baby’s belly and she runs off. A couple minutes pass…

Nora: “Mommy, her’s not crying anymore! Her is happy!”
Me: “I’m glad SHE is happy! Go talk to her a little bit, will you?”

Patters off, a couple minutes of silence… Then STOMPS BACK LIKE A STAMPEDING BUFFALO!!!

Nora: “MAMA!!! MAMA!!!!
My heart stops. Me: “What is it, honey??”
Nora: “Rapunzel’s mother turned to.. To… To DUST! It was SO FUNNY!!!”

Commence heartbeat, successful shower finished, two totally happy, though sick, children. I didn’t forget to rinse the conditioner out or anything!

Nora claims that her clothes also don’t feel well, so she shouldn’t wear them. Works for me, kid.

When I was younger, my mom used to tell me that you don’t magically turn into an adult one day.  You are always just yourself, regardless of your age.  I thought I understood that then, but I think it’s only this past year I’ve really started to grasp the concept.

I was talking to the husBen a week or so ago in the context of these horrible letters received by my mother and I, which I won’t get into because it just makes me angry and sad.  I was overanalyzing (as I tend to do), and was focused on the fact that my mom was addressed as “Mrs. Huston” and I was addressed as “Stephanie.”  Ben pointed out that it might be my age, to which I retorted, “I am a twenty-seven year old mother of two, married to a city commissioner.  I would like to think I’ve earned adult status by now.”  The words that came out of my mouth kind of took me by surprise.  Am I really those things?  Sounds pretty grown up.  Many days I still feel a little like I’m a child, playing house.  Nora likes to assign roles for make believe all the time: “Now, you be the daddy and I’ll be the mommy and he’ll be the kiddo.  Now, you be the horsey and I’ll be the scary monster.  Now, you be the princess and I’ll be the bad man and I will lock you in a tower!”   I’m just playing the role of wife, mother, employee, board member, volunteer, and so on. 

My cousin, Aubin, and I were talking about how twenty-seven somehow seems so much older than twenty-six.  It’s officially late twenties.  It’s a new box to check on surveys, I recently discovered: 27-34.  A couple months ago, I overheard mom talking with someone and saying her eldest child was nearly thirty.  WHAT?!  I have a secret older sibling??  ……..Oh. 

I’m back at work full time again.  This is my third week back since having the baby and everything else that occurred.  Since my going back, we’ve had an 18 year old young man come to our home to watch Emeline- Her Manny, if you will.  When I was first discussing the possibility of this setup with him, he called me Mrs. Ezzell.  I froze the moment I first read that… Who is Mrs. Ezzell?  I’m not old enough to be referred to that way.. I’m only a year or two older… Wait, no… I’m only…. NINE years older than someone who just graduated from high school.  I’ve only been doing “grown-up” work, paying bills, being responsible for myself and my pets for about eight years…  I’ve been a parent and responsible entirely (well, with Ben, of course) for nearly three. That seems like long enough for it have sunk in, right? 

When did the magic transition to “adult” happen for you?  Was there a moment you realized you couldn’t Peter Pan your way out of it?  Or does everyone, regardless of age, just feel a little underqualified for the life he or she is living?

Goodness. Where to start.

I had a baby

Emeline Fay Ezzell was born July 22nd and is the most perfect little human to enter this world since her sister. I adore these girls and their daddy more than life. They’re growing at a ridiculous pace, which I don’t entirely appreciate. Emeline is already smiling, trying to sit up, trying to STAND up, and much more, at only seven weeks old.

Nora was a little model for a day. These are a couple pics my mom snapped while she was in a photoshoot for Raine + Monet, an awesome t-shirt line designed by a couple ladies out of OKC that I ran into on Instagram.

She did so well, I was so proud of the way she handled herself. Emeline was part of the photoshoot as well, but I somehow made it out without any photographic proof… Mamarazzi fail. Just trust that she was seriously adorable.

Now let’s talk about the horrible for a moment. My brother died. Saying that still feels so surreal. The first day he was in the hospital, I came home to feed the baby and nap and woke up convinced I had dreamed it… Until I saw the remainder of the bottle of coke daddy bought me from the waiting room vending machine. I just miss him. Part of me is gone forever. I don’t know that I ever want to stop feeling this way, for the rawness of the loss to be gone. I guess my hope is just that someday my first thought of him will be the hours we spent listening to music and talking, or the period of time when he was about six or seven years old and tried to rename everything “Spike,” including but not limited to his cat, his favorite stuffed lion, himself, and our sister, or the last time I saw him before the hospital and everything was so horribly wrong… He hugged me and told me he loved me and I told him I loved him too. I never want to forget that moment. I wish I could record that memory somehow and relive it, instead of the time spent in the hospital or preparing for his funeral (which is still up here, though I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch it), or any of the rest of the times that feel somehow both so full of love and support of family and friends but so desperately empty at the same time. I have a lot more to say, and someday I’ll get around to saying it. One of the most infuriating parts of the whole hospital thing was learning how anti-donation Oklahoma is- apparently notoriously so, according to the Lifeshare representative. That’s a topic for another time, though.

Back to my kids! Nora is in Montessori school and absolutely flourishing.

I’m so proud of her. Also, the fact that I now have two children still really takes me by surprise half the time. They are so very different already in looks and personality. Time will tell, but for now, Nora is very fair in her hair, eyes, and complexion and Emeline is very much the opposite. When Eme was born, Cheri (my mother-in-law) said, “well, now you have your Snow White and Rose Red.” I loved that story growing up.

The moment Emeline was born, I felt complete. I wasn’t entirely convinced she was real until I held her in my arms. Honestly, I’m still not really 100% that Nora is real and the husBen and I get to keep her and be her parents forever. I am so grateful for my little family.

I am also incredibly grateful for my extended family. Not many people would have all his or her aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents surrounding when crisis hit. I am still blown away by that, yet not surprised at all at the same time. Beyond that, the support from our friends, the family we choose, has been so overwhelming, I don’t even know where to start with my thanks. My cup overfloweth.

Well, minus a couple days. I realized it had been awhile, but wow. Many things have happened… There’s been a lot of good, a lot of difficult, a lot of change.

Nora turned two. She is more amazing every day and I still have to pinch myself to be sure I’m not dreaming- that I truly do get to be her mother, that she really is real. She is so smart and so talkative. Her observations about life astound me daily. She’s had many typical two year old moments and her attitude is definitely larger than life, but I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.

What else… Ben was elected city commissioner of our ward! He will be official next month. I’m insanely proud of him.

He and Nora continue their daddy/daughter love affair and I’m pretty sure it will cause my heart to explode one of these days.

Oh, and there’s this:

I’ve been pregnant three times this year- a missed miscarriage in April, an unmissable miscarriage in August, and Miss Emeline Fay is the third. Hopefully she will stay put another 12-16 weeks and be as awesome as her sister. Even at 26 weeks pregnant, I’m still slightly concerned that the little human who is currently trying to turn my belly button inside out will never actually exist in the world outside my uterus, but in becoming a believer.

Nora says Emeline like “Emmie Lion,” which is pretty adorable. It took us quite awhile to settle on a name because the only name we had ever been 100% on was Nora and that one is being used by our firstborn. We discussed taking a page out of George Forman’s book and just naming her Nora II or something, but decided against it. Emeline was the name of Ben’s great-great-great-great-grandmother, according to ancestry.com, and Fay has been either the first or middle name of of many women in my family, including my great-grandmother.

I’m sure many other things have happened this year… Hmm. I directed for the first time at our community theater and it was an amazing experience.

I will be forever grateful to these women for joining me in that undertaking. They are all amazing, brave women and I am lucky to know them and to have been part of the journey of The Vagina Monologues this year.

I’m sure there’s plenty more, but my brain power is lacking lately. That’s a start, right?

Yesterday, Ben was sworn in at a session of the Oklahoma Supreme Court.

I couldn’t be prouder.

I keep pinching myself… It’s hard to believe that after years of hard work and stress, it’s all over.

Since we were downtown, we took Nora to one of her favorite places for a bit- Bass Pro to see the fish!

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After the fish experience, Nora was doing something odd with her mouth… At first I thought it was fake chewing, but then I thought maybe mimicking the fish? What do you think?

Well, I haven’t posted in quite awhile.  The reason is simple- I find it hard to blog about my life with I’m anxious about something going on that I’m not ready to share about.  My husband tells me often that I can be honest to a fault… Mostly when I’m correcting his tiny “truth stretches” that make a story more impressive!
Many of you know that the director of the Main Street program here in Enid is retiring.  Main Street is a national program basically promoting downtown and historic areas, focusing on the four points of Organization, Promotion, Design, and Economic Restructuring.  The Oklahoma program is under the Oklahoma Department of Commerce and provides support to the organizations in Oklahoma cities or towns.  The program in Enid began in 1994, about the same time my family moved to Enid.  All of my information about the program at that point came through my Sunday School teacher, the lovely Lindy Chambers, who was at that point a volunteer.

Lindy eventually became director of the program and after I did some growing up, moved to Oregon and back and was working at the Enid News & Eagle, I had the opportunity to be involved with Main Street and see how hard Lindy worked to provide support and resources and partnerships with Enid businesses, especially downtown, and draw tourism, new commerce, bring new events and grow existing ones.  It is quite something to behold.  I was able to assist in organizing events for First Fridays and Enid Lights Up the Plains, along with various other things. I was humbled to receive the Workhorse Award in 2010.

Long story short, when I heard Lindy was retiring, I was very much interested in the position and threw my name in the hat.  It seems that is not to be, but through this journey I was overwhelmed by the support of some dear friends (I don’t have enough time in the day to list the wonderful people who support me), and, of course, my family, both by birth and by marriage.  I count myself extremely blessed to have you all in my life.  I would like to say that I LOVE that I have a job where I can help my daddy and have my sweet girl with me most of the day.  This was honestly one of the few, if not the only, position I would have considered, other than the one I hold now.

I do want to take this opportunity to wish the new director, whoever he or she may be, the best of luck.  I hope this person will be able to continue the wonderful legacy Lindy is leaving.  I accompanied Lindy this year to the State Main Street Day at the Oklahoma State Capitol and it is incredible how supportive all of the organizations are of one another, regardless of size or budget or staff.

I now have to figure out what to do with all this self-confidence and civic responsibility I’ve got lying around…