Childhoodtake2!

You were the answer to my wish upon a star.

Lovies, it has been a flipping year and a half.
That is for damn sure.
I am not sure how many more hits this mamma of yours can take but here is what I do know...
as much as I am impacted and floored, and processing the blows, I'm still
grateful...
thankful...
and lucky...
to have met you.

You were the answer to my wish upon a star.

I know you know this, but this mamma of yours wanted no babies.
Not a single one.
Dad knew it and get rolled the dice on me.
I knew he needed to be a dad and I rolled the dice too.
He won, and thank god he did.

You were the answer to my wish upon a star.

I had no idea how much I was missing you in my life.
I had no idea that you were a part of my purpose, my reason, my life.
I needed to be your mother. I needed to mother you both.
I needed to have babies and they needed to be you.
I needed to feel your heart beating, I needed to carry you.
I needed to rock you to sleep and bathe you.
I needed to read to you and get excited about your amazing milestones.
I needed to mother you both.

You were the answer to my wish upon a star.

Your smiles, your warmth, your excitement.
Your belief in magic, your desire to be good, do good.
Your mistakes, my mistakes, your lessons, my lessons.
Your love of love, my need for more and more love.

You were the answer to my wish upon a star.

Time is marching on, you're both getting so so big.
But in this house, not much really changes.
The foundation, the strength, the commitment to love, the traditions, the unit, the desire to be together,
it all stays exactly where it is.

Time is marching on, you are both getting so so big.
With more than "play dates"...now you have "plans".
With more than a little kid game...now you have a real team to show up for.
With more than what to wear today...now there are outfits and routines.
With more than friends...now you are creating squads.
Time is marching on, that's for damn sure. But you were and still are my answer.

You were the answer to my wish upon a star.

As you walk this planet, have desires, have some plans.
But be very open to change.
Be very aware of how giving in to something you always feared may make you forever grateful that you did.
Meet family, and surround yourself with family in every way.
Remember love, make memories, make something.
Be you, the wonderful incredible you that I had this incredible wonderful front seat at watching.
The answer to a question I never wanted to ask.

You were the answer to my wish upon a star.

You see a kitchen.
I see us writing happy hearts every week and I see pancakes and I see pizza and I see a family all in one spot.
I see where your highchair was and all the entertainment you gave me from it.
I see you falling asleep sitting up when we changed from 2 naps to one.
I see us going over sounds animals make while I fed you.
I see us singing.
I see all of our moments...I see all of us.

You see a bedroom.
I see where I read to you. Where I rocked you. Where I held you. Where I fed you.
I see where your crib was, I see the look on your face when I entered your room after a nap or a deep sleep.
I see a sleepy baby, ready for bedtime, after a bath, smelling perfect.
I see where we introduced you to Mia. I see her smelling you and not knowing what this life now meant for all of us.
I see all of our moments...I see all of us.

You see our front room.
I see the room we first brought you home to.
I see where you rolled over, where you walked, where you played.
I see where you hung out, I see our first family movie nights.
I see our red chair, the one we snuggled into. The one dad held you all night while you were sick in.
I see our fireplace and our love for warmth.
I see Mia's happy face when we were all there together and I see her trying to climb up on top of me when dad watched sports.
I see all of our moments...I see all of us.

You see a bathroom.
I see your first tubs. The ones that you were so small you needed a tub inside of a tub.
The ones where you were sitting up and would play.
I see us writing with the letters that stuck to the walls together.
I see you squealing.
I see you moving from a tub inside a tub, to a sitting child, to someone that bathed alone to someone that takes showers.
I see us fighting you to brush properly.
I see us fighting you to keep it cleaner.
I see all of our moments...I see all of us.

You see our backyard.
I see you making fun of me about how small the pool we put in is.
I see you and dad playing ball, any ball together.
I see you playing basketball by yourself.
I see your swing set - the one you loved and would smile so big on.
I see your baby pool, the one you loved until you were way too big for it.
I see summers outside.
I see our firepit that we all gathered around.
I see Pearl running from one side to the other. Her gallop is so beautiful as she chases the newest smell.
I see us playing fetch and ball with her.
I see her amazing smile when we're all together.
I see all of our moments...I see all of us.

You see a house.
I do not.
I see the home we created, with such unbelievable intentions.
I see our traditions.
I see our love.
I see our family.
I see the beauty in our lives.
I see and feel our memories.
I feel the warmth that was built here.
I see all of our moments...I see all of us.

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 laugh.

Go.

It starts from the belly.
Sometimes it's so hard that there are tears of actual joy!
Most times, I cannot breathe and it knocks the wind and sound out of me.
Most times, I end up unable to talk for quite some time.
Most times, I cannot finish a story, the breath won't allow it to come out.

The first time you laughed so hard you cried, you were actually worried.
It made me ecstatic.
When you tell a really funny joke and I cannot contain myself, your laughter makes the room lighter.
And then, immediately, as if to clarify..."see, I'm funny"...
I do the same thing. Since I'm the one always laughing, whenever I do make a funny and make someone else laugh, I'm just so proud of myself..."see, I am funny!"...

This past year, I've lost my laugh, but you haven't.
You've watched me and you've continuously asked if I'm okay and what I need.
You've spent some time apologizing for things that were not your fault, and you found ways to make me laugh.
Not your job, but you would feel so good when I did.

You come home and immediately come and tell me all about the funny parts of your day.
Your smart-ass friends, with their smart-ass comments.
Your smart-ass come backs, and how much they make you laugh.
Have I told you how much I love all of this?
The fact that you have it, the fact that you share it, the fact that I'm still a part of your life, the fact that you love to tell me, the fact that it exists.

See love, it's easy for me to laugh. It really is actual medicine.
It really is a way to heal, to feel connected again.
And we're so lucky to have so many people that make us laugh in this little world of ours.

Dad with is dad jokes...aunts/uncles/cousins/friends/framily.
Laugh till it stops hurting baby girl and then laugh till it does.

Stop.

Last week, all of the leaves let go in upstate NY. All of them. My runs and walks are crunchy now. Everything is really bare. And all of the green that we have become so used to has turned to a dark dead brown. The only things still holding on are the grass and the unseasonally warm weather that has me running in tank tops. But even that has started to fade and the rain and colder temps are coming on stronger. Our normal temps are making their way and NY is getting ready for its longest season. We officially need to say goodbye to the warmth now and welcome cozy season.

Last week, I took a walk in a very familiar area. It had really familiar surroundings and I realized something, I no longer missed it. I had finally let go too. I said goodbye. I officially said goodbye to what I was holding on to the very most and I want to welcome something new.

I have no idea why no idea and I do not know what changed inside of me but something finally released its grip. I saw and realized what we were, what we meant, and what we definitely no longer are. I no longer had the pain that I had. I no longer longed to hear us. I no longer longed for you. I said goodbye.

I have spent so long begging for this release and if I am honest, I do not trust it. I do not believe I will no longer feel the need to hear your voice and laugh and talk to you. I do not trust I will not still dream of you, or that the hold has fully released. I do not trust that it will not hurt and that memories won't bring me pain. But for now, I let you go. My heart does not have this unsettling ache. I said goodbye.

I saw something in you that I did not realize was there. I finally saw it all right in front of me. Not what it always and forever was, but what it became. And I finally forgave myself for so much. I am sorry for my part but goodbye is what I needed.

It's pretty healing to forgive someone that never says they are sorry. I have spent a lifetime doing that.
It would be fitting to now say goodbye to those I never was able to have closure from.
In my own way, on my own terms, in my own time, I said goodbye.

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 extreme.

Go.

I live in extremes.
Sometimes, most times, they are polar opposites.
I love hard or I don't.
I long for quiet and worry about you leaving.
I work hard and sleep harder.
I live in extremes.

I cry with every emotion...happiness, anger, nervousness, laughter, love, and sadness...I always cry.
I laugh too hard.
I get too angry.
I love too hard.
I am loud or quiet.
I am introverted but need need need my people.
I live in extremes.

I miss too much.
I burn things to the ground.
I drink coffee all of the time.
I work out to exhaustion.
I work my fingers to the bone.
I live in extremes.

Absolute extremes.
And I love it.
And I don't.

Stop.

I show up.

For my kiddos.
For my husband.
For my body.
For my health, for my life.
For my work and my career.
For my employees.
For my friends, for their hearts.

I show up.

As a mother, a really proud one.
As a bride, a really caring one.
As a dog mom, a really loving one.
As a boss - a badass boss.
As a friend, a damn good one.
As a runner and a woman that puts strength first.
As a writer.
As a giver.

I show up.

For you.
For him.
For them.
For me.
For love.
For strength.
For family.

I show up.
I don't know how not to and I don't want to figure it out.
I show up because I want to and because I have to.
I show up because I love the people in my life.

I show up.