10
Dec

One last time

I heard a baby cry the other day, not an annoying cry, but an ache for their mamma that had put her down.
I was in a locker room changing with my nine-year-old and I felt it stir in me, that feeling, the longing I have for babies.
I couldn't help myself, I turned to her and said, I miss that sound.
It fell out before I even knew what I was saying, and I immediately felt bad. Did I just make this tired mom trying to do it all feel like the "one day you'll miss this" bull that I hate so much?
But that wasn't the look on her face. She instantly softened, I could tell she was on the verge of apologizing for her crying baby and having a stranger fall into such deep longing for little, she just said, "you do?" and just like that, I found myself talking to a stranger.
I didn't get her name, but she knows the names of both my kids and I know hers. I know their ages and I know how she is doing. The struggle of two and all that comes with it. I saw in her what I feel, that motherhood can be so lonely and intimidating, but when someone extends the faintest of branches, you cling.
So, I made a joke about how babies trick you into thinking you've got this all under control and before you know it, you just don't.
She told me about her older son, I told her about my youngest son.
I didn't ask her if she was done, like we are done.

I remember holding you and thinking, one last time.
I remember crying on the edge of my bed with my nine-day-old baby feeling loss, loss of babies, loss of little, loss of sounds, loss.
There was no connection to the present.
There was so much loss of the future me not having babies.
You were my last first.
So future me made me long for the baby I was actually holding.

One last time, as I held you.
One last time, as I fed you at 4am.
One last time, as I rocked with you.
One last time, as I sang to you.
One last time, as I bathe you and think about how this window will close hard one day.
One last time, as we say our goodnight routines.
One last time, as I read to you.
One last time, as I hold you too tight.

I know I still live there, in future me.
Future me with a kid in college.
Future me with kids living anywhere in the world.
Future me with grow-ups who were my little faces, holding their own little ones.
Future me with a quiet home.
Future me that has to be more than just your mom because I can't get lost in our future.
I need to be excited about future me.

I said goodbye to babies, I did.
I closed the chapter after we finished the last sentence.
I promise that the book is set, it's been written. We put the final touches on babies and it's been printed.
But when I do go back and re-read what we created, it's so beautiful that I find myself aching for them.
It's me standing in a locker room, talking to a stranger about how I miss the sound of baby beautiful.
It's me reaching out and wiping one little tear away from a little one that isn't mine and telling her, you're okay, your mom is right here.
And as I watched you scoop her up, hold her and find something to keep her occupied, I said goodbye.
I took hold of my daughter's hand and as we walked to the car, I whispered to her how happy I am that she started this for me.
I told her that I loved her and was proud to be her mom.
I wanted to just thank you for finding me.
You both found me out there and although you will start to walk your own way very soon, future me sees it more than you do, I looked down at how little your hand is right now and squeezed.

7
Dec

Five Minute Friday - balance

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 balance.

Go.

I should not be in charge of this word.
I should not go near it, even touch it.
I get asked advice on it and I always say, I am the last person you should be talking to about this.
But maybe not.
Maybe the woman who learned the hard way how important balance is should be the one standing up for the word.
Maybe the woman who got so sick she needed to have a year of different should be the one talking about the importance of the word.
Maybe the woman who spent three months in despair should be the one carrying the torch for the word.
Maybe for all women, people, that lean into work, maybe we need to have a different conversation about this word.
Maybe it starts with me.

I love work.
Not just my job, my career, my business, but I love all of the work I do.
I love working.
I love being tired and productive.
I love that I am ambitious, I love that I have grit, I love that I am determined and I love that I keep going.
I love that I set goals, I love that I get after it, I love work.
I feel confident there, I feel like it makes sense to me.
There's a hum, there's a rythum and a dance and all of it feels so so good.
But I am a mom
and a bride
and a friend
and I run
and do yoga
and I work out a lot
and I run my house
and I love to cook dinner
and I love my kids
and I love my person
and I love to see my family.
So a mom that loves her family and loves her job has some explaining to do.
A mom that leans into work more than she does downtime needs to be a little more careful.
Because our balance starts out leaning, we are balanced when we are leaning into work.
We just are, and that is okay. Our balance starts out a little crooked.
It is when that balance starts getting interrupted that we get into a lot of trouble.
That is when it gets really hard and we can't fight our way out.
As much as we want to go back to our neutral, as much as we fight back into the natural lean we enjoy so much.
It is when the work becomes too much even for us and we just continue to do and do and do. Even if we feel we have taken on too much and we no longer can see a way out or what to give up.
We don't know how to drop any of the balls.
All of them become a priority so we just do more, we push harder, we double down, and we get hurt.
We end up sick and resentful or just plain crazy.
We end up feeling like we can't breathe, we hurt and we can't see a way out.

So yes, I do know about balance and its importance and its power and its meaning and its need.
I do know how much I need it in my life, how attracted I am to my opposites, to my balance.
I married my balance, I dedicated my life to the one person that is my compass, who makes sure I lean the right way.
And at every turn, I find myself continuously attracted to those that are not me, to those that seem to have it more figured out.
To those that I feel have a better grasp of priorities and can take life as it comes and are so naturally good at life.
Me, I make life harder than it has to be, I cannot be my own balance and again, I don't need to be.
I am the example of the importance of this word, I hold it very close now and know when I am in trouble.
I am the expert, just not the way most would think.

25
Nov

I am calling for self realization

Alone and quite now.
Warm coffee in hand, house decorated and glowing.
Soft but cold November rain.

I am calling for self realization becasue it's almost done now, my year of different.
The year everything had to change, but I still needed to be me.
It has been one of my favorite years, one of my favorite words, one I will have a hard time letting go.
Even though I took a three-month turn for the worse
even though a stumbled so hard I thought I was falling, unable to get up
even though I spent three months trying to climb out of what felt like a pit of crazy
even though I came as close as possible to losing it all
and when I woke up again, I realized what I now need to do.
Who I was, how I love, who I am, what matters to me.
I realized again what I have always known, that all of us are so different.
That in order for me to work, I need my balance, I need external balance.
Me, alone, I am too much.
Me, alone, I provide zero balance.
I welcome my balance from the outside.
I invite my opposites in, I find them all around me, and I welcome them with the most open arms.
But that does not make me less than.
That does not make me unhappy, that does not make me joyless.
It makes me me and there is never anything wrong with being me or you or you or you.
As long as I continue to challenge myself, as long as I continue to grow, as long as I use my core to guide me, I am all in on being all the way me.
And I honor you being all the way you.
I don't only accept it, I honor it and I need it in my life.

I realized a long time ago I am gritty as hell.
I am determined.
I am motivated.
I aspire.
I am hard.
And I am vulnerable.
I love with all I have because I know no other way, I am in all in girl.

And all of that is good, but too much of that is too much.
Which is why at every turn, I am drawn, attracted, connected to my balance.

In my year of different, I realized what I now need to do.
I spent so much time in a state of quandary and I now feel relief.
I am able to exhale again realizing that this girl was not losing her mind.
There was something so wrong and once it was pointed out, I felt immediate release of the unknown.
I have my plan, I am ready for my next chapter.
Because if I need anything, it's a plan.
And like always, once I put it out there, the universe saw I was ready and the floodgates are starting to open.

From the outside, it certainly does not look like I believe in myself.
I certainly do not look confident or ready for anything.
And most of the time, I am not.
Fear is my fire
but my balance does believe in me.
My balance is confident, relies on me, knows I will break through.

I am calling for self-realization, fulfillment of one's own potential.
I am calling for being so patient.
Guide me back to the ocean of laughter, guide me over in time.

28
Oct

Waking up

Good morning sweet girl.
You have been asleep for quite some time and nightmares have filled your mind, impacted your body.
On the day you woke up, it was like seeing people again.
You rubbed the garbage out of your eyes and you saw the morning light.
You heard laughter and people connecting, instead of the whispers that have filled your space.
You smiled at the sun, you didn't squint or shy away.
You woke up, got out of bed, stood in the mirror and smiled at the person you have always been.
You stretched your arms and you noticed how strong you are.
Your back, shoulders, arms, legs, and body.
The one that carried two babies, the one that carries a family, the one that supports, and at times feels like the world is sitting on top.
It's okay now, the world is starting to melt away, you carried yourself through.
That's why you're strong, not because you conquer, but because you push through.
Not only because you can carry, but because you lift.
Good morning sweet girl.

While you were sleeping, the world continued on, people continued on.
While you were sleeping, you missed some precious moments, some important time.
You missed your kids, your husband, yourself.
You missed color and smells and warm showers and good food.
You missed reading and shows and hugs and hand holding and snuggles.
You missed smooches and little guy kisses from your son and kissing noses with your daughter.
You missed some time.

But that's okay, you obviously needed the rest.
You needed some time, reflection, processing, and like the flu, you needed it (whatever it was) to flush out of your system.
Like the flu, you needed to purge, burst through your fever, and open your damn eyes.
And now, they are open, and you are well rested and recovered.
You are over the sickness that took hold and you are better, not healed but better.

So good morning sweet girl.
I hope the smell of coffee lures you downstairs.
I hope the promised of whispered love keeps you warm enough to let go of the covers.
I hope you step into your morning shower, feel the water wash away the smell of fear and wash you clean.
I hope you remember what hope feels like and as you take slow small steps back into your life, I hope the light is what guides you this time.
Because even though you always start in the dark, feel most comfortable there, enjoy the cozy it brings, you need the light for balance.
You always need balance because you, just you, is too much.
So make sure you are kind to yourself, take it easy as you find your strength and your legs.
Take it slow, be steady, stretch your arms out.

Good morning sweet girl, we missed you while you slept.

21
Oct

Right there

The coffee in my hand is still warm, the light is shining through a window and I sit.
In silence, remembering a different time.
Trying to figure out what happened, what is still happening, and when I took a turn.

" "Finding yourself' is not really how it works.
You aren't a ten-dollar bill in last winter's coat pocket.
You are also not lost.
Your true self is right there, buried under cultural conditioning, other people's opinions, and inaccurate conclusions you drew as a kid that became your beliefs about who you are.
'Finding yourself' is actually returning to yourself.
An unlearning, an excavation, a remembering who you were before the world got its hands on you."

I have lost my way, but not myself.
I am here, right here, still standing, still me.
Some pretty exceptional people have stood up to tell me so.
To remind me of the real me, not the opinions floating around, not the rumors I am spreading about myself in my mind, I am right there, right here, the whole time.

I know why other's opinions matter.
I know why I take it so seriously.
I know why I take it all so personally,
because to me, it's always been personal.
It's always been serious, and to me, it's important.
All of it is.

I can't explain it well, I don't have the right words to tell you why I view life this way, I can't not take it seriously, I can't just pretend about anything, and I'm really bad at letting go.

So instead, there is some undoing I have to get to.
I have to undo some irrational thinking and I have a lot to figure out right now.
Big things, important decisions about the direction I need to take, the U-turn that I have no choice but to take.
I don't have to find me, I am right there, right here.
I am here, standing, breathing, me.
I am real, I am just as important, I am just as significant and I matter.

I am worth it, I am good at things too, I am capable.

It's darker now, I wasn't able to do this all in one sitting.
The light is fading and candles fill my space.
I have had some real conversations and some significant realizations.
I understand a little more about my direction and I started to turn the car around just a bit.

Not to find me but to go back and return to who I know I am.
I am right there, right here, still standing.

14
Oct

When the struggle is real

I have been in a season of sacrifice for a very long time.
I started referring to times like these in my life as seasons of sacrifice because someone I follow mentioned how it helps to reframe the hard.
Focus that it is a season, not your life.
Focus that it is a sacrifice, not the new normal.
Focus on the systems you can put into play to make it manageable and realize you will get back to your ways in time.
It's a season, and seasons change.
But I remember the end of last year.
I remember how that season of sacrifice made me so sick.
Brought me to the doctor kind of sick.
Made me think something horrible was happening to me kind of sick.
And in my year of different, I knew the season was approaching and I have been trying.
I planned, I put my systems in place, I prepared, I put myself in the "right" state of mind, I kept eating and drinking water and doing the things that I was told I needed to not get sick and avoid another health scare.
And instead, I have been struggling, really struggling.
I think part of my issue is that it started so much sooner and summer never let up and I just never felt an exhaling.
Halfway through my year, there is always this little window of reprieve.
One in which I get to calm down a bit, regroup, recenter, refocus, and remember to breathe in and especially out.
That life isn't that serious.
That all is going to be okay.
That I know where my real priorities stand.
And as I enter my last quarter of the year, I am never ready, but my mind at least got a little break.
My summer normally is a time of rest and calm and instead it brought with it turmoil and haste.
And I struggled.
My fall is crazy, always crazy, and for the last several years, just keeps adding on to itself.
And I am still struggling more and more.

It could be because my summer was too much.
It could be because there is now too much on my plate and I can't breathe.
It could be because my calendar and schedule and to-dos and family and kids and business and life and all of it is piling up and I am the one that keeps us organized and I can't so we're not.
And I'm the one that keeps the house running and I can't so it's not.
And I'm the one that keeps everything moving but I can't so there's a lot of running to stand still.
So, I'm struggling.
To smile, to stay awake, to keep it all going, to be close, to talk, to want to partner, to take anything else on, to laugh.

And I say all of this for anyone that is reading and feels that they are alone.
I know I'm not, we're not
I know we are all out there.
Doing our very best every single day.
Because we are.
And our tempers might be short.
And our patience might be worn.
And our minds and bodies might be tired.
And our nerves are actually sizzling.
But we show up.
We show up for them and for us.
We show up for jobs and homes and loves and life.
We know the end will come and we tell ourselves every day that we, of course, have a little more to give.
We wake up a little earlier, we stay up a little later, we make time, we find a way.
We show up even though the struggle is very real, and there will come a day when we look back and think, how did we do that all?
How did we manage that?
How did we make it?

Today, for my birthday present, I went ziplining.
We were about to walk across a really scary bridge after three exceptionally scary "falls" and the tour guide said the best thing I have heard in a very long time.
Compared to the shit you have just done, this bridge isn't' even a skid mark.
And that's how we make it.
That's how even though the struggle is very real, we always find a way.
We show up, keep going, and realize we can handle a load of crap coming our way.
We let things go that we can, we prioritize it all, we continue to do and try our very best, and we show up again and again.

It's hard to stay strong and remember all of this when we are smack in the middle of it.
It's hard to keep remembering how capable we are.
It's hard to remember that sometimes you will lose at things.
It's hard to remember when you feel so unappreciated and so very alone.
It's hard to remember that it's not all on you.
Because the struggle is very real, and the time seems unmanageable, and you don't see a way out.
But hold on and remember it is a season, not your new normal.
The last leaf will fall
the season is changing again and the sacrifice is always worth it because we make it work.

7
Oct

I've lived a life

I have spent 39 years waiting to blow out my 40 candles.
Most of the 39 have been spent not okay with me and who I am.
This last year, my year of different, was all about learning what I do well.
Celebrating what I accomplish and just plain old celebrating me.
At times, quietly, at times shouting it.
I have realized how strong we all are, in our very different ways.
And I stopped comparing myself and what I deemed as crazy me with those I saw as calmer, more balanced.
I stopped wishing I was different.
I accepted that I personally kick ass.
I respect those that are slow, take life bite by bite and I honor those that go and do.
I realize that at times I make things harder than they need to and I continue to find my own definition of balance.
And reflecting, really reflecting, I have lived a life.

I have lived a very long life in a very short amount of time.
I was born forty.
Too old for my age always.
Too responsible.
Too much.
I was born old.
But that doesn't mean that I was or am mature or wise nor does it mean I didn't have a lot of growing up to do and a lot to learn.
Being born 40 means you revert to a child throwing an actual tantrum, because you never figured out how to self-sooth.
Being born 40 means you live in a world or resentment, because you know you shouldn't be this old at this time.
You look around a lot at those just living their life at their actual age and you resent them too, without even realizing it.
Being born 40 means you spend a lot of time blaming others because you think they got you there, but the truth is, I was born just like this.
My past may have magnified it, but I was born just like this.
Being born 40 also means you know what you want and you go after it.
It means you know what you are supposed to be doing and you know what you're ready for.
It means you make really smart decisions for you.
It means you know how to protect yourself.
It means you know how important your circle is, really early on, you realize that your circle is your strength.
It means that by the time the calendar actual says 40, you know how to do this decade, you've been waiting your whole life for the number to just catch up to who you always were.

Because by the time one is 40, they feel ready to own their life, really own it.
They are comfortable in their skin.
They are ready to take chances on themselves and have the space to do so because so much more is grounded and protected.
I have established a really strong foundation.
I have built and built and built and built and built.
I am fully ready to own who I am, what I want, what I have learned.

Like the fact that I love being a mom.
Honestly and with all of my heart.
I love love love being your mom.
And you know what, I am so good at it.
Not in the way that others are good moms but only in the way I am a good mom to you.
I listen to you
I carry you
I empower you
I raise independence
I lead by example
I am strong for you and I am brave for myself and for you.

Like the fact that I married my husband because he was full of joy and I needed so much more joy in my life.
I met him at a time when I was ready to be joyful, ready to let go of the anger and hatred I carried.
I was ready to laugh and feel light and be simple and content and easy.
He was my balance, my counter in all ways.
He was my easy Sunday morning and I fell madly in love with every inch of him.

I have also learned and accepted the fact that in a marriage, sometimes people need to switch personalities and you carry each other.
I have learned it is my turn to bring joy and when I can't I need to stay silent.
It is my turn to be easy and when I can't I need to stay silent.
It is my turn to be his balance and his light and simple.
and when I can't I need to stay silent.

Like the fact that I have always been good at picking a circle and the lowest saddest loneliest points in my life were when I had no one around me and I couldn't seem to find who and what I needed.
Until I did again and I was reminded that most in their 40s have their amazing circles but those born 40 always will.

Like the fact that a little puppy was my reason for 17 years and now I am the reason for a new little life.
I learned that she too was old and understood how important it was to be there, to guide me.
To him, to them, to this life.
Yes, it sounds so so crazy but a puppy brought me along for a ride and I let her.

I learned that I can trust and let go.
I learned that I do not have to lead, that I can take a back seat.
I learned that I cannot lead and am rarely in control when it comes to parenting and I have learned it's their greatest gift to me.
I learned that yoga is my church and running is my way of cleaning out all the junk.
I learned that I can cry so hard for so long that I fold into myself.
I learned that I am still scared, all of the time scared and I learned that I keep going.
I learned that I will never be not scared.
I learned to listen more, talk less.
I learned that I love the home we built.
I learned that I make things cozy and that I am a homebody.
I learned that I never need an abundance of people, just my tight glorious circle of love.
I have learned that I still hate change, but you make it so I have to change almost daily.

And I am ready.
To take a chance on me.
To continue to work hard for what I want.
To learn to work smarter.
To trust my instincts and remember that solving problems is what I do.
Solutions are what I am known for.
I am ready to keep mothering you, keep loving you.
I am ready to start my 40 things to do in my 40s because of course, I have a list.
I am ready to say that 40 is a really big deal because I was born 40.
It was never just a number for me.
I am ready to do this decade, I know how to be 40.
I know how to experience this decade and live through it.

In my 40s my daughter will leave for college.
My son will start to drive.
Both will stop believing in Santa.
All of their baby teeth will be gone.
Their rooms will be redecorated so teenagers feel more in control.
Proms will be danced.
Significant others will be a thing.
Childhood will be a thing of the past and memories we always talk about.
Traditions will become even more important.
Our family will be tested.
Everything will be more serious, more heavy.
My husband and I will travel more, our whole family will.
We will start to sleep later but somehow be more tired.
We will go through the heavy and thick of after-school activities and being in two places at once.
He will love it, I will worry it's too much on all of us.
No matter what, we will come out the other side.
We will remember married life, not just parenting.
I will continue to experiment with whiskey drinks I like, finally.
He will happily take me to more and more happy hours and date nights.
Our puppy will become an old dog.
Our major home projects will be done but our house will always be a work in progress.
Our bodies will get ready for 50.
We will get ready even more ready to retire.
He will continue to prove to himself that he is stronger, smarter and more capable than anyone I have ever met and he too will start to believe in his power, not his potential, but his actual power.
Our careers will become more and more defined.
We will be able to check more and more off of our bucket lists, I will continue to make all of the lists.
Health will always be important to me.
Love will always be a priority for all of us.

I have spent 39 years waiting to blow out my 40 candles.
It's not just a number and I am so damn ready.

16
Sep

It's personal

I get asked why a lot.
Why do I run, why do I race, why the triathlon?
Why if you're so scared of swimming do you throw yourself into a body of water and swim across a canal?
Why if it causes this much anxiety do you keep doing it?
Why?
What is the rush for you?
Is it the training?
Is it the exercise?
Is it the body issues you still carry?
Why do you do this?
When it hurts, why do you keep going?
When do you think enough is enough?
When will you finally stop?
Why is it so important right before you turn 40, why in your 40s, why?

These aren't the only times people sit me down and ask why?
Because when you live like "this", people look at you and wonder why a lot.
Why do you do it that way?
Why do you add so much?
Why would that bring you, hell anyone, pleasure?
Why did you start doing that?
Why are you participating in that?
Why are you so type A?
Yeah, I get asked why a lot.

And all I have to offer is, it's personal.
There's only one person I am trying to prove it to.
And that's me.
I am sure it stems from them and wanting some sort of acknowledgment.
I am sure it is because they told me all I couldn't do it.
I am sure it is because they wanted to be needed and so they wanted to raise weak.
But I will be 40 and soon.
The only person this falls on now is me.

What I am about to write,
what I am about to share, is going to sound self-loathing.
It's going to sound as though there is too much self-hate.
But, I promise, it is the opposite.
This is the most loving part of me because it is all about self-care.
It's personal.

Races and running and triathlons and half marathons and marathons and hearing my feet on the road and freezing in water and swimming even though I just learned and biking 20 miles on a Wednesday and being bone tired and killing myself isn't just gratifying, it's healing.
It's healing because I live in doubt.
All year, all month, all hour, minute by minute, I live in doubt.
Of me.
And I have strong roots in fear.
Of all that I do and try to do.
Everything that I say yes to, I walk through fear to get there.
My jobs, my careers, my business.
My family, marriage, parenthood.
Owning a home living a life or just plain living.
I doubt myself and am scared of everything.
So, if that was my litmus test, if being too scared or thinking - I can't - was the reason I didn't do something,
I wouldn't do anything.
And f that.
That's not a life, certainly not one I want to live.
So instead, I do.
I run.
I try.
I swim.
I do yoga and get stronger.
I weight train and step out of my comfort zone.
I push.
I make sure I'm tired.
I keep going.
I work long hours.
I train for long periods of time.
I work on being a mom.
I work hard at my marriage.
I take the promotion, I plan for my future and next steps.
I write a blog to protect their childhood.
I work hard period and end of story.
I do.

And I tell myself enough.
Enough of the BS talk and whining and the scared nonsense.
Do.
Your body hurts? Too bad.
You're too tired? Everyone is tired, get out there.
It's cold and the water scares you to the point of shaking? Stop it, they won't let you drown, get in now.
You trained for four months and he is beating you barely hitting the road? Yeah, that happens, he's stronger and more athletic but who cares.
Oh you think you'll be a shitty mom and fail them? Well everyone thinks that so you're not special.
You're worried your marriage will ruin what you guys have? Stop being so negative.
You think you can't run a company, specifically this company? Too bad because you are so keep going.
You're worried everything will fail? Yeah, it might, it could all crumble, but you still have them.
You're busy? Show me someone who isn't.
You want your MS to be the reason you can't? Someday it might be, but not today.
Today you will shut up and show your body you can run 13 miles.
Show it that a triathlon is in reach, who cares how long it takes.
Shut the hell up and lace those shoes.
Get up early and get started.
Hand out your business cards and talk to people about what you do, sell your brand.
Work your mission and remind people why it's important.
Work for what you ultimately want.
Do.

Show yourself that you can handle this.
Remind yourself of what you are trying to get to, what is waiting for you within reach now.
Do.
That might mean more grit than most.
That might mean more exhaustion.
That might mean more from you more expected out of you.
Because in order to quiet the doubt and the fear,
I have to do.

And from the outside it looks crazy because it is crazy.
From the outside I know people judge.
From the outside I hear the whispers of that is one tightly wound ball because I am and I won't let myself down.
And those that don't have to be this way, I envy you. I wish I could live just like you but I can't.
I know I make my life harder and I am working on that but I won't give up on me either.
So instead, I do.

It's personal.

9
Sep

Exhale

It has been a summer.
Like a for real summer.
I don't have off like the rest of my family but even I felt like we were living our best life.
There were sunrises and sunsets
warm weather
paddle boarding
camping
our Cape trip
track days
so many old friends
framily time
so many visits and my heart being full
framily that knows my whole story
framily that accepts and do not judge
framily that only loves and knows we are all doing our best
ice cream for dinner
the kids read their hearts out
they played and played and played
Cole became the best bike rider
Anna went to her first sleep away camp
both kids went to basketball camp with dad
Pearl had an amazing Cape week with her bestie followed by fun with camping
a week with their grandparents and so much adult time
just amazing wrapped into one incredible summer.

Except I could not exhale.
Me, I was the problem.
I was so anxious and so nerved and worried and scared and had this feeling of concern
and there were days where it would pass and then days upon days of it being right there.
But, it's my year of different and so I kept trying.
Trying to figure out why
trying to let whatever it was go
trying to find my breath
trying to let it out, exhale and let go of whatever was on my mind
trying to not let whatever this was ruin this time, destroy the good memories
trying to not let them in on what was happening
trying to get back to okay so I could find my way into joy.

But, as always, the harder I tried, the worse it got until it all piled on and found its own way out.
And then built back up and piled on and found its way out
and such was the cycle I was caught in.

It's going to be okay, just call it out.
Give it a name, recognize that it's there and then it will go away once you have given it fair attention.
But it didn't.
And it hasn't.
And here I am.
With little faces in school and me wondering where I went wrong.

So, I start again.
Because fall is crazy and summer is how I restore.
Because I am mad at myself for not restoring.
Because I stayed too long at a party and I am trying to get back home.
Because I started something so new and so scary that I feel like I might mess it up all of the time.
Because when I do mess it up, it does crazy things to my nerves (upholders struggle with doing it wrong).
Because I have too many balls and I am starting to feel alone.
Because I am celebrating my birthday for the first time ever and I want it to feel special.
Because the weight is hurting my shoulders and placing a foot on my chest.
Because I should be crying more than I am, releasing.
Because I don't want to let them down, I don't want to hurt their memories.
Because I want to make sure they know I am here, even when I am withdrawn.
Because I need to not be withdrawn, I don't want to fake it.
Because there is nothing to fake, things are all okay.

Summer of 2018 was not an okay summer, it was wonderful.
My little boy told me yesterday he was so sad our summer and our time together was over.
He was actually heartbroen that our break had come to an end.
That's how different our summers have been.
Because our summers were not always like this.
Years ago, our picture looked shattered and our pieces were all over the floor.
And at the end of that summer, I started to put parts back together and made some big changes.
Since then, things have been getting better, stronger.
They were concerning and I couldn't have them be concerning.
And the tide turned because we shifted and we made important decisions to change.
I found framily to hold on to.
I reconnected with the past.
I started to take ownership.
I found their little.
I found joy and so did they.

So, I am back to my journey of starting with okay.
Just be okay and then find a little joy.
And with a little joy find a little more joy and a little more.
Find your calm mamma, remember after you take that big breath in, let is out again.
Exhale.

15
Jul

I am the answer

When you were brand new to this world and I was forced to share you
I was the one you needed in the middle of the night.
I was the one you needed to smell.
I was the voice you remembered.
I was the comfort you looked for.
I was your food, your rocker, your changer, the one that knew all the sounds.
I was your answer, I always was, I still am, but I will not always be.

When you have a bad dream, you immediately go to his side of the bed.
When you are feeling sick, you call for me.
When you fall, you look for us immediately.
When you are trying something new, you seek our familiar faces.
We are your answer, we always were, we still are, but we will not always be.

So many twists and turns
so many changes
so many different milestones and from the beginning to today I am the answer.
I always was, I still am, but I will not always be.

Life will continue to bend.
It will make you feel upside down.
It will also make you feel confident, moments, long moments of feeling like you have this part of life down.
But, there will always be questions, there will always be changes.

For this little window in time, I get to be your answer.
For this minute in our lives, I get to hold it all for you.
I always was, I still am, but I will not always be.

Because you will grow and you will go and live the life you are meant to.
You are going to find your circle.
You are going to find and at times create your reason.
You are going to be.
You will become the answer for others.

But, for now, I will allow this window to be wide open.
I will welcome this time of you wanting to be with me.
I will welcome what in the end will feel like a brief moment in life.
I will be the answer.

When you are wondering who in the world you can turn to.
When you are searching so you don't feel terribly alone.
When you are seeking comfort and someone that knows your whole story,
I am the answer.

When you need a hug, one that feels so familiar.
When you need to hear words that make you feel like you belong, remind you that you are home.
I am the answer.

I always was, I still am, but I will not always be.

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