Two worlds

I live in "I don't need your help!" and "mom, HELP ME, I can't do it!"
I live nights of straight sleeping but an exhaustion that I cannot explain.
I live in gaining a confidence I didn't realize was possible and a fear that at times paralyzes me.
I live in heartache, heartbreak, heart shattering moments of childhood and love from a family that puts all the pieces back together.
I live in chaos and loud and mess and a quiet that soothes an introverted mother.
I live in kids, no more babies, kids, but a little that is crushing.
I live in second chances, but need to be reminded to give them.
I live in second childhoods, but need to be reminded not to miss their first.
I live in tears, cries, screams, meltdowns and hugs and love that quiet all storms.
I live in toys, so many toys, the loud kind of toys and books that fill every corner, and make their loud world quiet again.
I live in days of mistakes and more mistakes, blowing it at times mistakes and nights where we always get it right.
I live in a world where I love to work but ache to be by their side.
I live in not always liking them, but always loving them.
I live in not always being proud of me, but always proud of them.
I live in memories that hurt and memories that heal.

I am a woman who didn't know if she would mother
if she should mother
if she could mother.
And now, I am a mother that loves loves loves being a mother.
And I am always living in two worlds.


Five minute Friday - dream

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 dream.

Your dad dreamt of you, before he even met you.
He always knew you would be here.
He always knew he would be holding you, playing with you, throwing a ball around.
He always knew he would teach you how to ride your bike, or how to swim, how to do your homework.
You were always the kids of his dreams.
If pressed, I bet he would say this is how you always pictured looking,
his big blue eyes, silly smiles, curls flapping everywhere.
He dreamt of your little hand, place in his, while crossing the street.
He dreamt of your firsts, your milestones, your future.
He already knows the person you will become, he has always seen your potential, even before you were born.

I had other dreams, and they were lonely.
There was nothing filling me full in my dreams.
Nothing making my heart shatter a million different ways, and being put back together by the little of it all.
In my dreams, I didn't relive a childhood.
I didn't embrace family.

And then, he made me sleep so soundly, that my dreams changed.
I could start to picture you too.
I could see you, really see you.
I dreamt of holding you, comforting you,
I dreamt of motherhood, and I was falling in love with you, even before I met you.
And now, when you talk to me from your dreams,
I know that all of our dreams have come true.



I can't tell you

The way he looks at you, always feels so safe with you.
He has wanted to be your sidekick since the day he was born.

It's progressed to this place, this incredible special bond you two have.IMG_0511
Whatever you are doing, he has to be right there, helping, doing it with you.

You are his everything.
You are his moon, his stars, all things light.
You are his dad.

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When she's startled awake, it's you she calls for.
It's you that first comes to mind.
It's you she wants to come rushing to her side.
It's always you.


You want so much from her, you want her to be so much.
You expect greatness because you see her incredible potential.
You see all she is about to become.


They were your idea.
You are the reason they are here.
You fought for them, you laid down your reasons.
None of them made sense,
but you ended with "I just want to be a dad."
You wanted to be their dad.

I can't describe to you the look on your face when we realized we were pregnant.
Just like I can't describe but will never forget the look on your face waiting for her in the operating room.
It is a moment burned forever in my memory because you were so scared, so excited, so lost.
You weren't the strong one, and that's never ever been the case with us.
And then there was the first day the three of us were alone together, in the hospital.
How you turned on music and danced with your day old daughter.
How you told me she was crying and you would do anything to have her stop.
Because you knew you could.
There were all those times I caught you telling everyone how much you love being a dad to a girl.
And the time we were sitting in the diner, and I told you we were going to have a son.
The smiles and tears that poured out of you.


And whenever he is moving on, hitting another milestone,
you are more excited than all of us.
Your heart is just full, with joy, for them.


I can't tell you how many times you show them love.
I can't tell you how much you mean to them.
I can't tell you how much I know you break your own heart when you think you are letting them down.
But I can tell you that they know sweetie.
They know that you love them,
they know that we will make so many mistakes,
but they also know that we always ask for forgiveness and patience.
They know that we will keep trying,
they know that they created a family in our little home.
They know that you want all that is good for them.
They know you are going to push them to be their best.
They know that you are not going to settle for them settling.
They know.
All because you're their dad.


Five Minute Friday - fear

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 fear.

I am always afraid...
Of being a mom
of being a CEO
of running an agency
of being a bride
of not being enough
for my family
or my community
or my team
or my little faces.

I walk out of the door in fear,
my voice quivers when I speak.
I do not exude confidence.
I have never walked into a room and had anyone think, "she's got this".

And my daughter,
the one that is too much like me for her own good,
she's starting down that path too.
Afraid of her ability, or her inability.
And a few weeks ago, she climbed on a bike, without training wheels,
to learn how to independently ride.
and that mom bred fear, it poured out of her.

I took her aside,
just the two of us and opened my heart.
Anna, I am afraid everyday of my life.
I walk around with it in my throat.
I feel it in every muscle and from my head to my toes.
But, here is the thing that I have learned.
My fear Anna, it makes me hungrier.
It makes me want, more.
It makes me try harder.
It makes me fight.
So, it's okay to be afraid,
it's okay to be unsure.
That's fine.
But do not let that fear paralyze you.
Do not let it stop you from trying or doing something new.
Do not let it stop you period.
Use it.
Use it to your advantage.
Use it to drive you.
Because #StrongIsTheNewPretty


It's hard

It's hard, getting older.
Your body giving up on you way before it should.
Telling you to slow down,
no, actually stop!
Stop doing everything you are doing and find another way.
Stop all that keeps you sane and healthy and feeling connected and balanced.
And the pain isn't letting up.
From the top of my head down to my toes, it's screaming at me to stop.
And so, I am listening, I have stopped, but I am in a fog.
I don't know what to do with myself.
I don't know how to not run, how to not push myself.
It's just hard.

It's hard, to stay connected.
When all of your friends, your outlets, live all over this world and it's so hard to stay in touch.
It's hard to not have a constant night together, to find each other, keep each other sane, to laugh, together.
It's hard to watch them living their amazing lives, knowing that you were once a part of this world with them,
now you get to watch it unfold from the sidelines.
I ache for them, because an introverted mother needs connections.
It's just hard.

It's hard to make new friends.
When you are closer to 40 than 30.
When you realize that what you need is connection,
not just small talk, not just acquaintances, but real life friends.
People who know your story,
know your journey,
understand you,
really get you,
get why you're down,
just get it all.
It's just hard.

It's hard to parent to tiny humans.
To keep them loving, to keep loving them.
To remember your job is to raise them to be independent, good people.
When they are loud,
when they are grumpy,
when they are storming,
when they battle,
when the stubborn comes out,
when the anger spills over,
when your patience is gone,
when your yelling becomes the norm.
It's just hard.

It's hard to be a mom, who is sensitive to noise, with just a touch of OCD.
When your house is a mess.
When your husband is swamped with a million projects.
When you feel like nothing will ever be done, ever.
When everything is loud, and terribly messy,
and your life if spiraling out of control.
When you're trying to find your calm.
Your quiet.
When you need something to feel balanced in your life, and some sort of order.
And instead, all that use to make you feel normal,
time together
it's all gone.
It's just hard.

It's hard to always #FocusOnTheGood.
Isn't it?
To look at every moment as special, and find your joy at every turn.
But when it's the most difficult is when you have to do it even more.
It's when I have to dig deep and find my smile and realize they look to me to find their day.
Focus on all that you love.
It's time to stop playing my own victim.
It's time to find me again,
my strength,

#FocusOnTheGood to find your way out of the dark.
Next week, I will sign up for adult swimming lessons while my body heals.
From what? I don't know, but all that is wrong with it.
I will learn to swim, something I could never do.
I will learn to breathe and strokes, and I will learn how to get strong and more confident in the water and by the fall of 2016, I will do a triathlon, and why not? #RunMomRun!

#FocusOnTheGood to find your way out of the dark.
I am going to make some time for friends this summer.
I will try to find a local network of people, I love hearing the story of others, I love sitting and listening to them trace their journey. I will use my love of listening to find my connections.

#FocusOnTheGood to find your way out of the dark.
This summer, we are done with the major part of our construction which means that we will have more time.
For walks
This summer is not going to pass us by.
We will not just survive it, we will love it and be remember it for the good.

#FocusOnTheGood to find your way out of the dark.
I will connect with my partner more.
I will blame less.
I will hold his hand.
I will tell him what he means to us.
I will remind him how much he is doing for us, how he is building our home, our life and our memories.
I will remind him that we can build a house, but our kids, our family, we make it home.
I will remind him he is our hero.
I will remind him how he is their favorite and how much they love and adore him.
I will remind him that I love and adore him.

And I will realize that sometimes, life is hard.
Sometimes there is more work involved than there is joy.
And once I ride out the blue, the real me will once again emerge and she will


Five Minute Friday - world

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 world.

I was 21 when my world changed.
When I met him.
When it all started making sense and life was normal and filled with smiles and happy.
When he reminded me what joy was, what comfort was, what love can do.
When he made me go back home, find my family, forgive those that will never say sorry.
At 23, my world changed again.
A scary diagnosis does that, it doesn't matter if you are young or old, a diagnosis will rock and shatter your world.
And that is where love steps in again, to always fix the broken.
We were 30 when we had her and 33 when we had him,
and our world changed again.
For the good, yes.
For the more difficult, yes.
Harder now, yes.
More difficult to connect, and find the loving moments, yes.
More difficult to remember to hold hands, remember to look at each other when you're mad, to find each other again,
More difficult to remember that if you do this right, they leave, but he will forever be my best friend, my partner, side by side,
But we will continue to find each other in parenthood.
To not only trace their start,
but our start too.
Because it is so easy to love in the happy and even easier to love in the sad,
it's all the in between that you fight for.
All the mundane, all the garbage.
The paying of the bills, and house projects, and mowing of the lawn.
That's where you fight for each other.
Because we have weathered storms,
we have found our normal in the chaos
and we are each other's world.

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Frayed edges

The moments where you sit with your temper and you try to find your sanity.
Where you hold on to the thought that how you react, this moment, it will stay with them.
Where you realize you are raising tiny humans, and that is hard, it is exhausting.
And in the moments you're unsure if you like them, but thank god you love them.
The tantrums that come, the constant loud, the whining that doesn't stop, the constant everything.
Because a three and six year old battle.
Because a three year old storms.
Because everything is loud.
Because a six year old is starting with attitude and talking back and taking control.
Because a no is the end of all.
And you worry, will I ever like them again?
Am I enough for them.
Will we come out the other side.
My frayed edges, my frayed body and temper and life.
Will we get to the other side.
And I go back to the beginning and realize that their blue eyes and their curls are not all that they got from us.

They got my stubborn,
they got his angry,
they got my temper,
they got his frustration,
they got my determination,
they got his love for life,
they got my will,
they got his excitement.

And I love all of it.
I love hearing their steady breath when they sleep.
I love their loving arms when they hug.
I love how he runs up to get between us when we hug,
I love his "nice and cozy".
I love her love for friends.
I love her love and her smile and her filling so full that love spills from her face.
I love how much they love to swim, to play.
I love their love for the outside.

When you are frayed, when your edges are worn,
dear loving parents,
go back to the beginning, trace their steps.
Trace the you in them,
find how you started, what made you fall hard.

My frayed edges are when I see me, I see him, in them.
I see the good and the bad.
I see the blame, the guilt that we created this,
we created them.
And then I see the love that was also created.
The love that fixes the broken, the love that will mend all of
my frayed edges.


Five Minute Friday - gift

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 gift.

They come in boxes,
in bags.
All pretty, wrapped just perfectly.
They come with treasures inside, hand picked just for the occasion, just for you.

But what if your gifts can't fit in a box?
What is they are too big to be wrapped?
What if they look like this...

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Sometimes, "special days" like Mother's Day, holidays, birthdays, they come with so much disappointment of what it is suppose to look like, the gifts we are going to receive.
But when you start to treat people as a treasure,
or their smiles and love as a gift you are so lucky to receive,
expectations stop.
Disappointment about a day starts to wash away.
And you realize how lucky you are to have them for this small moment of time.
You realize that their gifts will never look perfectly wrapped.
They won't be in a pretty box.
Their gifts are messy, because love, family, life, it's all messy, but only if you're doing it right.

The people we pick to put around us, they are our gifts.


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