Childhoodtake2!

Love is a creative act. When you love someone you create a new world for them. - Trevor Noah

Love is something truly magical. Real love, not fantasy love.
Love that makes you stare at the person in wonder.
Love that makes your toes curl when you kiss.
Love that opens up worlds and makes you challenge your ideas.
Loves that opens up you heart to possibilities.

Love, true love, is truly something magical.

Love that accepts who you are, loves it about you.
Love that also asks you to grow, to see things from another perspective.
Love that balances you.
Love that fits you in every way.
Love that becomes family.

Love, true love, is truly something magical.

Love can make you want a bigger life.
A louder one and also one a little smaller, a little more quiet.
Love can make you want more and less.
Love can make you go to sleep content, safe, warm.

Love, true love, is truly something magical.

Love, true love, can also make you hurt.
Love can push you to extremes and bring you back again.
Love can make you get bored because true love, is boring.
Love can make you love how boring life can be because it also finds way to be magical.

Love, true love, is truly something magical.

Love can exceptional. It can open your whole world.
It can make your heart explode and your head hurt and your eyes shine.
Love is seen through smiling cheekbones.
Love is seen through special rituals.
Love is seen in handholding and toe touching.
Love is seen in glance, a knowing glance.

Love, true love, is truly something magical.

To the love of my life, you are my magic.
You allowed me to be me and pushed me to be better...kinder...gentler...more and less.
You showed me simple...and joy...and family...you were and are my home.
Yes, you are also my pain and my headaches and my temper tantrums.
Yes, you are also my crazy.
But love, you are my magic.
Love, true love, you are truly something magical.

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 milestone.

Oh this word.
This word is heavy for your mamma.
This word comes with development, moving on, moving away, moving forward.
And your mamma loves little.

Your mamma loves a baby.
And baby clothes.
And baby coos.
And baby toes and fingers.
And little bottles and little toys.
And little cries.
And cribs and snuggles and little.
Your mamma loves the little.

But you two are hell bent on growing up.
And so I follow your lead.
I follow you to pre-school and pre-k and Kindergarten and elementary and middle school and now high school.
I follow you through toys and dolls and smocks and mess to makeup and phones and friends and phone calls and time away.
I follow you to sleep overs and camps and more and more time away.

I follow your lead.

I follow you through pitter patter of feet to full on runs.
I follow you through sports that's like herding cats to making teams.
I follow you to Santa and magic and the excitement to understanding that the magic is all that matters.
I follow you through our traditions that keep growing and flowing.

I follow your lead.

So, sweet loves of mine.
This mamma of yours, the one that gets a little heavy with a new milestone, I'll follow you anywhere.

One does not ‘find oneself’ by pursuing one’s self, but on the contrary by pursuing something else and learning through some discipline or routine … who one is and wants to be. - May Sarton

Oh, but say it again!
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear about routine and discipline and finding yourself in the pursuit of something else, something outside of you.
Oh May Sarton, it's as if you climbed into my mind and took a look around and came up with poetry that you wrote just for me.

Yes, say it again.

It was in the pursuit of my need to leave that I found myself.
It was in the pursuit of my work that I found myself.
It was in the pursuit of finding more than my work, that I found myself.

Yes, say it again.

It was in the pursuit of finding a family that I found myself.
It was in the pursuit of finding joyful, comfortable, real love, that I found myself.
It was in the pursuit of seeing if and how hard I can do hard things, that I found myself.
It was in the pursuit of proving myself, first to them, then to me, that I found myself.
It was in the pursuit of no longer proving anything to anyone, including me, that I found myself.

Yes, say it again.

It was in the pursuit of balance, that I really found myself.

Yes, say it again.

It was and is through discipline.
It was and is through the routine.
It was and is through the freedom that comes with knowing what I am doing and how and when.
It was and is through love...my love.
Through others, my community, my people, my heart, my love of others, and my need to fill up a loss, I find myself...again and again and again.

Yes, say it again.

I spent a week in heaven.

Paradise actually.

Surrounded by sun, blue water, white sand, heat, views, mountain tops, drinks, amazing dinners, my family of four.

Paradise, actual paradise.

But, it started to creep in...just a little anxiety because I was sick.
And then a little more because we landed and I couldn't hear due to the congestion and my ears being clogged.
And then a little more because of the heat and trying to find our card.
And then a little more because we needed to find the house and the escort.
And then a little more because I realized the home didn't have AC (only in the bedrooms).
And then a little more because bugs ate us alive the second we opened our doors.
And then a little more because I realized I couldn't work out at all, no way to run up and down the mountains, no way to take a walk, even without the mountain, the temperature wouldn't allow it.
And then a little more just because.

But I'm in paradise, actual paradise.

And then I started to really miss the puppy, and I couldn't shake my old feeling of dread.
And then I started to not be able to sleep well.
And then I woke up to "we have to go as soon as possible" and "are you ready to go?" and "are we ready?".
Usually, I can just roll with that, but it all started to be...a little more.

And then the kids started to get to me, just a little here and there.
And then the facial expressions got to me, just enough.
And then I called my mom and heard her voice and how much my puppy was hugging her and she couldn't understand her love.
And then my illness landed in my chest, and the coughing started.

And then I started to feel better.
And then I went for a swim - and I remembered how hard swimming is!
And then I went for another swim and got all the one from one side to the other and I felt great!
And then I started to dance with my kids.
And then we shopped.
And then my husband and I talked and connected.
And then I felt even better.
And then it was getting closer to getting home, and I was ready.

And now I'm back. Puppy at my feet.
Working out and walking and being in my home.
Drinking my coffee, sleeping in my snuggled bed.
Getting our home ready for renters, just a few weekends this time so we can enjoy our time here.
Doing my laundry and making and eating dinner together.
Thunderstorms and heavy rains at night.
Concerts and tourists all over our little town.
The feel, the energy, the rhythm.
Routine in check.

Paradise, actual paradise.

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 work.

It is no secret...this mamma LOVES to work.
She loves to sit down and have a few hours of quiet just me and my work.
I feel a certain hum while I'm working...I feel good about myself.

And so, I have to force myself to not love my work to death.
I cannot kill my work anymore.
I cannot become all about the work and I cannot kill what I created.
I have to have to have to find balance.
It is the reason I started this all. I want to be in your lives, I want to be present. I want to have other interests, I want to love other parts of my life.
I want to feel that hum elsewhere.

And so, I figured it out.
I stopped making everything a push.
I know when I need to stop.
I know when I need to give more of myself.
I know when I can walk away and I have other things that I can turn to.

My balance will never ever look 50/50.
It will never be an even split.
But, it will exist, I will make sure of it.

Because this time, I will be more than just my work and my career.
This time I will be the bride, puppy owner, runner, walker, mamma, friend, family member, love bug that I am.

But, to my work, I will always write you love letters.

This morning, we were in the Caribbean Sea, both of our Littles right next to us.
"Today is our anniversary" I said with a smile so big it looked painted on.
"To which Anna replied "of..." with a tone that said, damn, what are you celebrating now?

We all laughed because, yeah, I celebrate us a lot.
And I always and forever will.
Even if I'm the only one that loves it.
Even if you all roll your eyes at me and at it.

Because these little moments are the ones that took my breath away and life is filled with enough moments of pain. So any and every chance I get, I will celebrate us.

July 8th is the anniversary of our first date. But for me, it was the start of all of us.
It's the day I found simple, kind, joyous love.
It's the day I met my family.
It's my last firsts.
My last first date. My last first kiss. My last first flutter of will he kiss me?
The last time a boy held my hand the first time.
The last time I felt a rush of that smile you gave me.

It was the start of us.

But for you, our wedding is the most important date so I will give you that one too.
The look you gave me when you saw me.
The way my mom hugged you.
The way my dad kissed your forehead.
The way we danced our first dance.
The amount of people and food.
The amount of joy and utter chaos.
I will give you that day.

As for me, I will celebrate all of us.
I will celebrate each little and big moment that led us here.
Without them, we would be in very different places, we would be different people, we would have different lives.

I will celebrate the day we met and the day we went out.
I will celebrate the day you asked me to marry you, shaking, crying, with our Mia by your side.
I will celebrate the day we moved into our first home together.
I will celebrate the day we found out we were pregnant with each baby.
I will celebrate their birthdays.
I will celebrate the day I adopted Mia, her birthday, I will hold the day we lost her close.
I will celebrate the day we all adopted Pearl and her birthday too. It was the day she healed us with joy and love.
I will celebrate and reminisce and think back to simpler times and forward to exciting times.
The life we built, this really big life.
All the things we have done, the things we decided not to do.
All the times we fought and lost and all the times we fought and won.

It's no secret that I am obsessed with us.
It's no secret that I love the little moments and how much they bring me.
It's no secret that everyone, even my little family, rolls their eyes at me, but I'll be damned if I stop.

I will celebrate 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 impulse.

To cry and be emotional.
To be upset and then upset at me.
But also to laugh.
To love, so so hard.
To lean heavily into a routine but also to love a little adventure.
To bet my life on us.
To protect what I love, and especially our littles' childhood.
To love them with all I have, all I know, all I am.
To celebrate us, as many anniversaries and celebrations as I can think of because they are all so important.

I have an impulse to work as hard as I can.
But I am now learning to find the right balance.
I have an impulse to prove I can do hard things.
But now I'm done proving myself to me.
I have an impulse to work my body hard.
But now I am learning to fall in love with what it can do for me, what it has done for me.
I have an impulse to speak ill of myself. Make myself the reason for such heartache.
But now I am learning that I have to protect myself, a little harder.

I have an impulse to stare at you, while you're sleeping, or watching a show, or working on a project.
My impulse is to not take my eyes off of you and to take every single part of our time together.
I will never give that up.

I have an impulse to adore you. To love so deeply that I feel it somewhere deep in my bones.
My impulse is to love with all that I have or not at all.
I realize that is a gift and a flaw.

We all spend so much time talking/thinking/worrying about happiness.
Being happy all of the time.
Being happy with our marriages, our careers, our choices, our parenting, our kids, our homes, our lives.
Being so out of control in love with happiness that we actually worry about it.
I am no exception to this.
I too always thought that finding your joy is the reason for life.

Finding your joy.
Getting through the hard because at the other side is what you've worked for and that will bring you joy.

But, as I have entered into the most embraced and loved decade of my life, I have found out that of course, life isn't always happy all of the time.
Your career will fulfill you until it does not.
Your marriage will spark joy in your toes until you hit a fog so thick and heavy you can't see each other anymore.
Your children will make your insides hurt with such love, joy, and appreciation of life - until you look at them with such rage and craze that you're not sure who you are anymore.
Your home needs constant upkeep and draws out wants.
Your friends change, your life changes, your kids get older, things get easier, then harder again.

So, there is no such thing as happy all of the time.
And what I have found, even when things got heavy and hurtful and sad - are glimmers.

There are also glimmers - and they are all around us.

Glimmers of joy, hope, love.
Glimmers of memories that keep you warm.
Glimmers of smiles that make you fall in love.
Glimmers of puppy kisses, snuggles, and deep periods of sleep that make you feel relaxed just by watching her.
Glimmers of great shows, great music, great stories.
Glimmers of friends, the new, the old, the ones that know you.

There are glimmers of the old you and the new person you are.
There are glimmers of who you no longer are.
There are glimmers of deep joy, the kind that takes over again.

There are glimmers when you have to walk a stubborn parent to his death, and help a mother cope with life after.
Glimmers like the humor you find as a family.
Glimmers like your unit pulling for you in every way.
Glimmers like your person going through it with you, and feeling a closeness like you couldn't have imagined.

There are glimmers when you and your spouse can't navigate parenting.
Glimmers like tucking them in at night together and talking about the good sweet parts of the day.
Glimmers like picking each other, each and every day.
Glimmers like watching a show or movie that you know will make you connect.

There are glimmers when the career that defines you

There are glimmers when I get into my car and listen to music that makes me feel things.
There are glimmers when I slip into bed, grab a good book, and touch toes with you.
There are glimmers when I snuggle in on the couch with Pearl.
There are glimmers when we go out to dinner and I look across the table at you, the one I get to spend this life with.
There are glimmers when I watch them sleep.
There are glimmers when I see him with friends.
There are glimmers when I work out with her.
There are glimmers when she talks about her squad.
There are glimmers when we laugh together.
There are glimmers when we travel and everyone reconnects.
There are glimmers when I am in a good routine and I feel like me.
There are glimmers when I am done folding laundry.
There are glimmers when I'm done with my run.
There are glimmers when I'm done with a shower.
There are glimmers when I listen to Pearl snore.
There are glimmers when I see they inherited how your tongue sticks out of your mouth when you are all thinking and concentrating.
There are glimmers when our son hugs me.
There are glimmers when our daughter and I walk together.
There are glimmers when I hear rain, see our world turn gray.
And there are glimmers when it snows, and everything is covered in white.

So, when things feel unbearable, when life is a slog, find glimmers lovies.
Glimmers of hope, love, joy, peace.
Trust me, they are right in front of you.

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 music.

There is something special about music.
Something magical actually.
It can make me happy, dance, sad, lonely, or feel so loved.
It can take me back in time, it can make me miss a person, or a place, or a time in my life.
It can remind me why I walked away from something or someone.

It can make me embarrass you with how I sing.
It can make me scream my lungs out with joy and abandonment.
It can make me curl up and think.
It can make me wild in the car, or in our kitchen.

It can make me want to sing to you, lovingly.
It can remind me of simpler days/times/memories.
It can make me feel heard and seen.

I remember a time when I would wake up to and go to bed listening to music.
I remember dancing with my girls in our college bedrooms or bars.
I remember our first dance, and the ones we had with our littles.
I remember lyrics and meanings.
I write about music that makes me feel something more.

There is something truly magical about music.