31
Jul

Five Minute Friday - try

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on try.
Go.

With all my might,
with all I have,
with all you have.
It's the only way to move forward, the only way to move on, the only way to succeed.
You will fail, but it's a much more dramatic failure if you don't try.
New things, old things, just keep trying.

Most times I try something new, push myself a little harder, I do not succeed.
I do not become a master at it.
Swimming, yoga, marathons, but I just won't stop trying.
Even if I feel deflated, letting myself down, I will keep trying.
Not to become the master, but to prove that I have will.
I have strength, and I have the commitment to myself.

So, don't worry if you never win the race,
or make the winning shot.
Don't worry if it takes you longer than everyone else to understand the material,
or put all the puzzle pieces together,
just have this fire in you.
Keep trying, don't let go of your fire.
It's the one thing you get from me, and I won't watch it burn out.

Stop

26
Jul

This is it

We will never in our lives be this tired again.
We will never be this loved.
We will never again be this busy.
The house will never ever be this loud.
I will never again come down the stairs, wiping the night from my eyes, turning the corner for my coffee life line and see all the legos, all the toys, all the mess and confusion.
I will never have to step over toys, stuffed animals, ever again.
I will never again have to break siblings apart.
I will never again hear siblings play pretend and figure out games together.
Never again will the house be this messy.
Never again will I be playing referee.
Never again will their faces be this dirty.
Never will I hear cries, tantrums, full out war.
Dinner will never be this chaotic.
Never again will I battle with a six year that wants to be in charge.
Never again will I watch a three year old melt down.
Never again will I be invited into their beds to snuggle, to read.
Never again will we sing and be silly.
Never will I hear that childhood laughter.
Never again will he have this voice, this little little boy voice (god, how I love to hear you talk).
Never again will she be bursting to tell me all about her day, her time, her adventures.
Never will they be this open with me.
Never will they be this honest.
Never again will they be this into family time.
Never again will we pile on the couch, as close as we can, watching a movie and whispering love songs to each other.
Never again will you whisper to me from your sleep.
Never again will our family bike rides be this cozy.
Never again will your curls be all I can think about and play with.
Never again will I be able to kiss your nose, bite at it.
Never again will I be able to eat you up.
Never again will I push you on that swing, never again will we play soccer in the front yard, like a family.
Never again will I smell your head and instantly smell your bath from the night before.
Never again can I drink you in this much.
Never again will I be standing in line in a store and there is a need, an absolute need for you to come over and hug me.
Never again will your love for me take control of your emotions.
Never again will this define my family.
Never again will it be the five of us, all in one house.
Never again will you love it as much as I do.
Never again will I hear you say that you never want to leave our family.
Never again will I be this involved.
Never again.
Because, this is it.
This is it.

24
Jul

Five Minute Friday - ten

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on ten.
Go.

It all started with counting.
Counting to ten while I pushed and pushed.
Counting to ten while I rested.
Getting frustrated with your stubborn ways already, since you were refusing to budge.
And then, they took you.
And when you were here, we were immediately separated and I needed more time, to rest, to get stronger.
By the time they put you in my arms and I got to really see you, I started to count, ten fingers, ten toes.
Ten kisses on each.
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Three years later, the countdown started again.
First, it was the countdown to your birthday.
Just two more weeks, just ten more days, just five, tomorrow, he will be here tomorrow.
And once we got to the hospital, just a few more hours.
Almost time, let's get ready, keep a close eye on the time.
Sabrina, he's almost ten pounds!
And my heart physically grew to ten times its original size.
You were my one and only love at first sight.
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This winter marks our tenth anniversary.
Ten years of marriage but our story started way before that.
Our family, our time, our commitment started long before our "I do".
We started writing the book of love as kids.
And fifteen years later, it all looks so different.
Our faces, our intentions, our tempers, our patience, us, it all looks different now.

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Time.
Counting the days, the moments.
Surviving this time.
Getting through it all.
It all started with counting to ten, while I pushed and pushed.

Stop.

19
Jul

Love

Most nights, we end on the right note.
Most nights, we end with love and cuddles and stories and calm.
Most nights, we end with appreciation and thank yous and favorite parts of the day.
Most nights, we end with routines and love songs.
And on the nights we don't,
on the nights I am off,
on the nights that tired has taken over all of us,
I feel like I have failed.
Failed you, failed me, failed us.

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Because these moments are so precious to me.
Because you always say you are thankful for our night time routines,
because you always list it as one of your favorite parts of the day,
because they are already precious to you.
If we don't get there, I have failed.
I have failed in loving you.

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I know the reasons, the hours have gotten too long.
I am rushed, hurried.
My list is still too long and I just need to check getting you into bed off.
Instead of drinking you in.
Instead of letting the day go with you.
Instead, I miss it.
That chance to snuggle and read and laugh and hold you close and listen to you and take a quiet moment.

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The chance to sing to you, to offer up love.
The chance to end it right.
The chance to say goodnight and have it be good.

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And I know that the way we end fills you full for the next day.
The way we end determines how you view the day.
The way we end gives you strength or cuts you down.
And my role is to build you up.
Fill you with the kind of love that makes you burst open.
That's how important our night time goodnights are.
To me, to you.
And so, my last thought,
the one I have before I open my mouth and am too harsh, too loud is:

"did I love them enough today?"

Thank you when at home for inspiring this post, this letter of love.

17
Jul

Five Minute Friday - free

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on free.
Go.

I was 17 when I left, promising to never return.
I remember those first few months on my own and the freedom that I felt.
Making my own decisions, figuring it all out.
It was a freedom that made me smile.
But what I didn't realize is how asleep I still was.
What I didn't realize is how much I was chaining myself to my past.

And then, I let go.
And that's when I woke up to freedom.
Free to laugh like a kid.
Free to not blame, me or them.
Free to no longer hate, worry, plan my life around them.
Fight against them, fight all day.
Free to forgive, free to understand.
Free to create a family, make my own choices.
Free to create a second childhood, a new beginning.
Free to love all of them.
There came a time when I realized that I had to forgive with no apology.
I had no other choice but to move forward and not commit the same mistakes of my past.
A time when you realize that coping skills are vital to raising kids.
A time when I stopped running, I stopped looking over my shoulder.
There came a time I let go, I woke up, and I took off the chains I was using.
A time I became free.

Stop.

12
Jul

Giving myself a break

Parenthood doesn't care what you think you can handle, it just delivers.
And so does adulthood.
It all just comes at you, and you just have to respond and react. You have to decide.
And as the days, weeks, months grow more and more crazy, the person who gets my most critical thoughts, my most hated thoughts, is me.
I worry a lot.
About my health, our money, the house, the kids, careers, living in the moment enough, working hard enough, loving life enough.
My weeks, like all parents, are hectic.
And I judge...
myself, my person, my work, my mothering, my patience, my kids, my life.
I am hardest...on me.
Forever critical, of me.
Forever questioning of myself.
And that means one day I will be hard on them too.

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And there are times, I catch myself slipping into a dark hole.
Spiraling out of control and I have to shut it out, take a deep breath and remember to,

Smile more.
#FocusOnTheGood, more.
Laugh with them more.
Eat ice cream for dinner more.
Chase them more.
Swim with them more.
Allow them to be siblings more.
Allow them to figure more out on their own.

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I want my wrinkles to be laugh lines.
I want my stomach to hurt from laughter.
I want my skin to have color from the sun.
I want to run with my daughter.
I want to chase my son.
I want to find balance.
I want to react to things differently.
I want to read to my son, every night.
I want to cherish more.
I want to not worry so much about how quickly we are losing them.
I want to not feel them slip out of my fingers everyday, but remember that our relationship today dictates our relationship tomorrow.
I want to enjoy the moment without worrying what is to come.
I want to not worry period because it serves no purpose.
I want to be on a beach with them, sand in my toes, building castles in the sun.

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Recently I read a letter a mom who was about to have her fifth child wrote to herself titled, my first time mom self.
And it reminded me that although we can never go back and be kinder to ourselves, we can starting now.
And with a long deep breath, with my eyes closed in a soaking tub I say,
I want to give myself a break.
I want to be gentle, to me.
Remind myself that I am trying, and therefore I am going to make it.
I want to focus less on all I have done wrong,
I want to not only see failures.
I want to be able to relish in some of the good I have done, some of the things I have accomplished.
I know I am not there yet, I am not done with any part of me.
But I have made some strides and I have created things that I should be proud of.
Especially them.
I never in a million years would have pictured all of this.
All of us, snuggled in one house.
I didn't realize how comforting you all would be.
I want to be humble.
I want to be kind, to me.
I want to stop doubting me.
I want to stop being hard on me.
Time will determine what happens next in every stage of my life.
But for now, I want to be gentle, to me, and
give myself a break.

10
Jul

Five Minute Friday - hope

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on hope.
Go.

I didn't know it at the time,
how hopeful you would make me.
I didn't realize that watching you fill with wonder, excitement and such joy also gave me hope.
Give me my second chance.
I didn't know that I would be living in two worlds.
One in which my hopes for you, they never end, the other in which my worries for you might make me stop breathing.
I didn't know how much you would be giving to me,
how much I would be learning from you.
Parenthood is the craziest ride I have ever been on.
The joys, hopes, fears, smiles, laughs, tears, screams, they are all endless.
They all wash over me.
But, to my two little faces,you woke me up.
You filled me with love.
You took away so much pain and healed me.
You fixed all of the broken.
You filled me with hope...
for tomorrow and the next day.
You fill me with hope for my future and yours.
You fill me full.

Stop.

5
Jul

Summer

Late nights, late mornings. Getting to hear your laughter outside.
Long bike rides, pools, washing so many beach towels but for some reason it's the only laundry that makes me smile.
Running, playing, bubbles, balls, soccer, playgrounds, the beach, the track...
summer is when your childhood really comes to life.

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And you two are so lucky because you get to spend each summer, with your dad.

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I get to hear all about your days,
the ones that are adventure days,
the ones where you go to the library, or find a pool, or go for long walks.
I get pictures of you in the rain, or at a cute shop, or downtown.
I get to hear how slowly your days get started.
I get to hear, I get to watch, and on those days we are all together, I am all in!

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I love love love how much you love this time.
I love hearing how much you laugh.
I love getting ice cream for dinner and I love watching our town come to life and spill out over all the edges.
I love our vacations.
I love our time at the Cape.
I love hitting the beach with you, packing for the trip, and hearing you talk about it for weeks, months.
I love that this summer Anna, you can ride your bike.
I love that you have that freedom.
I love that I can trust you both outside alone.
I love watching you be siblings together.
I love your summer.
I love how much you fill this home with childhood and I love love love you both.

Welcome to your summer vacation guys.

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