Friday, April 16, 2021
An Ending
Tuesday, January 26, 2021
Guilty Motherhood
I drove over 15 miles like this today.
Holding my screaming, sobbing, over tired, toddler’s tiny little hand while she BEGGED to be released from her seat.
My arm fell asleep. My back was tweaked in a weird position. And I’m pretty sure I was going 10 under the speed limit and swerving.
The people on my road this morning HATED me.
But, we made it.
I dropped my crying, screaming toddler off at daycare as I apologized to her teacher and attempted to leave her favorite blanket behind to console her.
It didn’t work. ️
This morning NOTHING worked.
It was a BAD morning.
And several times this morning on the drive in I wondered if I should call in today.
I wondered if I was failing by making her go to daycare.
I wondered if I was heartless to leave her with her teachers like this.
I wondered for the seventeenth billion time if working really is “worth it”.
If I’m somehow damaging my child by choosing NOT to stay home.
Her older sister got me, at home, for three years. Do I owe my youngest the same?
These are the questions.
The guilty thoughts.
The daggers to my soul.
My constant internal struggle.
My decision to work outside the home, and the career I’ve chosen, doesn’t necessarily make me popular in mommy circles and sometimes I think the PTA at my oldest daughter’s school has all but given up on me.
Sometimes I’m late for pick up.
Sometimes I don’t make it for dinner.
Sometimes my Saturdays are spent in meetings I don’t really want to attend-but that’s the job.
I’m on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
I carry two phones: a personal phone and a work phone.
Some nights my children get my undivided attention and other nights I’m stuck in my bedroom putting out the next “fire”.
And you know what sometimes I really suck at the juggling act.
I’ve been listening to Sheryl Sandberg’s book, “Lean In” on Audiobook. (I HIGHLY recommend this book if you are a working mom!)
I’m on Chapter 10, “The Myth of Doing It All”.
In the chapter she explains that we often make a big deal about babies and “separation anxiety”, but really “separation anxiety” is more about the parent. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be it all and do it all for our kids that we forget how resilient our kids actually are.
This struck a cord with me because days like today I feel guilty.
I feel like a failure.
I feel like I could do more and be more.
But at the end of the day all I can do-is all I can do.
Being a stay at home mother is a thankless task! Trust me! I know! I’ve been there.
But, so is working outside the home.
Motherhood is just hard.
Period.
Some days we have it all together.
And then some days we drop the ball and our toddler screams at daycare, or our kid doesn’t pass the spelling test, or the dinner is from a drive through, or we lose our tempers at bedtime.
Some days we let them watch too much iPad and we read only one book instead of three and they eat suckers for breakfast.
And sometimes you drive like this for over 15 miles just to try to console them.
Because this morning we both barely made it to drop off-but you know what?
We made it. ❤️
And at the end of the day-that is all that matters.
Saturday, January 9, 2021
Here's To The Boys
Here’s to the boys who love the broken girls.
The ones with daddy issues.
Trust issues.
The ones with too many scars.
And deep gaping wounds.
The ones whose path has been lined with more mistakes than victories.
The girls who have turned their pain into power.
Their regrets in stepping stones.
The girls who wear their scarlet letters a little too boldly.
The girls who don’t fall easy, but when they do-they fall hard.
Here’s to the boys who don’t try to change them.
Don’t try to erase them or silence them.
The boys who show up-even when it’s hard.
Even when she’s hard.
The boys who anchor them.
Who remind them that some boys do keep promises.
The boys that give patience and grace-even when it’s the least deserved.
The boys who let them fall and break and rebuild as many times as it takes.
The boys who don’t shy away from the past, because they know that’s what brought her here.
To this moment in time.
To this path. On a warm fall day. Doing the thing they will always do better than anyone else in the whole world:
Putting a smile on her face.
Here’s to the good ones.
The diamonds in the rough ones.
The ones with boots and blue jeans and callused hands that are more gentle than all the hands that came before them.
The ride or dies.
The ones who say forever and mean it until their very last breath.
Here’s to the boys that love the broken girls.
And help to put them back together again. ❤️
Sunday, November 29, 2020
The Hard Places
Do you have places that hurt?
Physical places.
Locations.
Buildings.
Roads.
A church.
A school.
A restaurant.
Places that conjure up memories you have spent a lot of time healing from and forgetting.
Places that can send you 1,000,000 steps backwards in a single second.
Maybe it’s the place where you got the diagnosis or experienced the break up.
Maybe it’s where you learned a truth you didn’t want to hear.
Maybe it’s where good memories and sad memories co-mingle in an unbearable way.
Places that breathe death instead of life.
This is one of my places.
People who love me and who are deeply familiar with my story understand why this is one of my places.
Last week, during a particularly rough day that had nothing to do with this place or the memories of this place, I had to take a road trip here for work.
As I drove down this road and past my personal “do not go” point, I was hit instantly with emotions and memories I haven’t visited for a long time.
I was proud of myself for not losing it.
And as the day went on, I only felt myself slightly starting to spiral.
I fought hard against the spin out and the backwards motion, and I came out on the other side slightly bruised, but without giving up any of the hard fought ground I have gained toward healing and forgiveness.
Two years ago I started the serious work of forgiveness.
I have two people in my story that I have held deep-seeded anger and resentment toward.
People who have caused me unimaginable pain and grief.
People whose choices resulted in collateral damage in my life.
They are people I will never get an apology from and I will never get to tie up their loose ends into a nice little bow of resolution.
They are my Everest.
Those of you with similar people in your story. You understand.
You understand that those are the hardest people to forgive, aren’t they?
The ones we don’t get to sit down across a table from and ask them why.
The ones we don’t get the answers from that we so desperately want.
The ones that root themselves so deeply in our soul that they become like poison in our hearts.
The ones we allow to make us calloused, angry, and cynical.
They are the hardest ones to let go.
The most painful ones.
And over the last two years during my deep dive on forgiveness, I have learned that with some hurts the process of forgiveness is ongoing.
A few weeks ago, I was talking with an amazing sister in Christ and we were talking about “baggage”, and the things we need to lay at the foot of the cross.
And she said something that struck a cord with me.
She said that sometimes you have to visualize yourself physically laying it down.
And that sometimes you have to visualize yourself laying it down every single day.
Like a morning ritual.
“Here you go, God. I’m going to let you carry this burden today.”
That visualization has been therapeutic for me, especially over the last week.
Every morning this past week when I’ve woke up and my mind has tried to zap me back to this place, I stop and I visualize myself laying it down.
This stretch of road.
That hurt.
That anger.
That unforgiveness.
I lay it down.
Right there.
Right at His feet.
Forgiveness is a process.
And for some hurts, it doesn’t happen overnight.
But, Jesus knows my heart. He knows where I’m at and where I’m trying to go.
For me forgiveness symbolizes forward motion.
A desire to be unstuck in a place that no longer serves me or my purpose.
And as long as I’m trying.
As long as I’m committed to getting there.
To the other side of all of this.
He will bless me.
He will see me through.
It may not be today or tomorrow or even a year from now.
But we’re getting there, because He’s got this.
And He will continue to carry this place that I no longer want to carry.
As long as I’m willing to continue to lay it down.❤️
Wednesday, November 18, 2020
His Steadfast Love
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
‘therefore I will hope in him.’” Lamentations 3:22-24
I woke up this morning to a text and a heart full of ache
for a dear friend.
A hard choice was made, but even harder choices are coming, and I cannot begin to fathom what this morning must feel like for her.
And as I put my make up on this morning-fighting back tears- I thought about how blessed I am in this moment with my little family tucked safely into my beautiful new home. My children and my husband are happy and well. And then I glanced outside toward the beautiful sunrise that greets me each morning in this precious place we call home.
And Lamentations came to mind.
I may not understand what today is going to look like for my friend, but I do know what it’s like to have mornings when it feels like the sun may not rise.
I know what it’s like to have mornings where all you can do is lean into His mercy and grace.
I know what it’s like to have mornings when it’s only by His power your feet hit the floor that day.
I may not be in that season right now, but I have been there.
So today I’m praying new mercies for my sweet friend.
I’m praying for peace that passes all understanding.
And I’m praying that today God reveals hope to her as beautiful as the sunrise in a way that only He can.
Count your blessings, friends.
Even if they are hard to find.
The week.
The month.
The year.
He’s got it, and He’s going to show you beautiful sunrises to prove it. ❤️
Yesterday Is Heavy
I don’t who needs to hear this.
Friday, October 23, 2020
I See You
I see you.
To the mama who’s best doesn’t look like Pinterest.