Tag Archives: children

Practical Changes

Below is my piece, Practical Changes, from 2007 when I was a contributing columnist to The Southern Ledger newspaper with my Practical Changes column, the night before my son’s birthday…as you all know my son graduated from High School early and will be 18 this coming May.  I wanted to share this old blog because it speaks to parenting and how it was for me back in those days where many of you are now…enjoy and hope everyone had a great holiday season.

XO, Noelle

WOW…I am writing a night early…Mr. Southern Ledger will surely fall out of his chair from shock tomorrow morning when he sits down to write that ‘friendly little reminder’ to the bloggers and notices that my column is already posted…HA

Six years ago tonight I was in a hospital in Plymouth, MA in the midst of 30 hours of HARD labor waiting for my son to make his first appearance…tomorrow he turns six and we have been counting down the days since Christmas…everything he sees goes under the ‘ I want this for my birthday’ category.  Those of you that know me well are now saying to yourselves, “just like his mother” and I can hear you.

In retrospect, I believe that was the hardest night of my life…I won’t bore you with the scenario of 30 hours, but trust me when I say it was FAR from pleasant…it taught me that if I could do that and endure that, then I could certainly do anything…what a good, smart, handsome little boy he is and funny and stubborn…sometimes I feel like the kid got a raw deal, all I do is work and it seems like some days I am always yelling…I have two modes loud and louder…it runs in my Italian family, we talk too much and most everything is loud.  Then there is that whole emotionally unkempt thing, which runs in my family too.

Sometimes I feel like I am doing such a bad job at all this…I think I should be nicer and more patient, yet someone or something is always pulling at me and I just have to keep moving because I don’t see anyone else around here paying for anything…granted this was my choice, to get a divorce rather than live in a situation that I was finished with just for the sake of security…I’m pretty sure the kid is normal, whatever that means anymore…I mean he goes to private school and has the best of everything and he is with me all the time…I have a great staff that helps a lot and without whom I would fail to function.

I think that no matter how smart we are there are always those times when we are second guessing ourselves, wondering if we are good enough or if we are doing it ‘right’…we must be doing okay around here though because we are starting year number six and that feels like a huge accomplishment.

As I sit here tonight I think back to who I was six years ago and I realize that so much has changed…I think that I am gaining some insight and wisdom as I go along…that’s a good thing…I am learning how to let things go, how to let someone else have the last word, how to walk away instead of react when someone is unpleasant, how to trust God and not be so scared all the time about everything turning out ok…I am learning how to take deep breaths and learning to remember that it will all still be there tomorrow.

I have also learned that I am too old to be blond anymore.  Recently, I had my hair highlighted and a lot of blond put in—it has been that way for about two and a half weeks and I have felt off the whole time—I kept looking at myself in the mirror and thinking how not like myself I looked, too washed out, too old and then finally this morning I wondered why I had done it, what was I hoping to prove?  In my other life I could carry blond, this life requires dark hair and ‘on purpose’ behavior—tonight my hair has been returned to a darker state and I recognize the chick I see in the mirror…  She has a messy desk, is emotionally unkempt, is a workaholic, is probably starting to wrinkle and sag, drinks too much coffee, shops too much and is not currently working out as much as she needs to, however, she knows how to get stuff done, she has a great kid, she has incredible friends, she is generous beyond measure, she knows how to laugh at herself and she understands that life is really about who we are and not what we have…I like that chick, she has dark hair and she’s not afraid to tell it like it is.

It’s good to mark time, to look back and see how far you have come…it makes us grateful for progress, grateful for all the gifts that we have been given…most everyone is always rushing through birthdays, Christmas Days, Mother’s Days, Father’s Days…how many times do we stop and remember the years past, how much do we acknowledge how far we have come?

We should you know, we should make a practice of acknowledging how much advancement we have gained over the years.  It is virtually impossible not to gain wisdom as time passes…life itself is such a profound teacher.

I will take my leave of you now as I have gifts to wrap in Spiderman paper and tomorrow there is a trip to Chuck E. Cheese in my future…I know y’all are jealous.

No More Goodnight

“Ok G ready to be tucked in?”

“I’m good Mom”

“What?”

“I’m going to tuck myself in.”

“Oh ok, Do you need anything, A hug?”

“Nope, Mom I’m good.”

“Juice?”

“Got it.”

“Ok well I love you.”

“I love you too Mom.”

That is when my eleven year old daughter broke my heart.

Bedtime is a ritual. It’s a treasured ritual. It’s sometimes the only time of the day I get to talk to G about her day where she is unfiltered. It’s when we cuddle. We joke. We even have our own poem. It’s been our thing since she was two.

I treasure that quiet with her, don’t get me wrong,when I’m an exhausted mess I would be a liar if I told you before she could read I didn’t edit stories so we could both get to sleep faster.

But this is different.

She chose this.

As she is a lot of things lately.

Which I’m happy about… her finding her footing, being comfortable and independent. But for nine years good, bad or otherwise she has been my solar system.

So much so she has never met a single person I’ve dated. I can hear your collective intake of breath and tongue clucks. Read my blog series… it will make sense.

Maybe

That’s not why we’re here. Another time. Another time.

I want my girl to feel secure but does this mean she doesn’t need me?

We have started entering the stage of one syllable answers to questions, if I get answer. I embarrass her now. Before if I broke out in song in the car she would have sang along, now she yells for me to stop.

She also comments on things about me she didn’t before.

I’ll just say it- how I look. How I act.

So this is new for me,as before I was Mom. Gorgeous no matter what. Perfect no matter what. Allowed to tuck in no matter what.

Now she sees me.

I mean really sees me.

My stress, my hurt, my happy. My silly. She doesn’t always like what she sees and she tells me.

She asks me point blank questions about things she never did before.

Honest.

Brutal.

The reality of not tucking her in is more than just not tucking her in.

She’s growing up. While I am incredibly proud of who she is becoming. I selfishly still want her to need me. Is she still going to need me?

Will you still need me …When I’m 64? Beatles song… sorry…

I am sure she does and will. I am 47 and when I’m sick all I want is my Mom, but I think you get it.

Relationships between Mothers and daughters can be fragile things. I’m scared.

What if I screw this up?

And now you know my secret. While I hate I’m not tucking her in. It  does mean some extra quiet time for me. Our majestic golden doodle now sleeps with her. Less chaos at bedtime because she is handling it.

But it also means we are entering those years.

The ones we see on the Lifetime movies, talk shows, The Kardashian’s.

Ok, I don’t watch that… but ack!

I certainly don’t want to be a cool Mom.  I mean, raise your hand if you saw Mean Girls?

Whoa

But I want to be someone she can come to. That is my fear. Or at the least if not me someone else and know she can send them my way after.

I went to college with women who couldn’t talk to their Moms. I am friends with women who couldn’t talk to their Moms. I sometimes can’t talk to my Mom.

I don’t want perfect but I want a balance. Guys,I am so terrified you know who will goof it up. I know I keep saying that, but I think sometimes as a single Mom we wear our worry and sadly guilt like jewelry, heavy around our necks. We don’t mean to, but for me I know I made the right choice but it’s still a tough one and it still is hard on her.

Deep breath….

For now I am going to still ask if she needs anything about three times at bedtime.

Sneak in after she’s asleep and kiss her forehead.

Revel in the fact that even though my poor baby had the worst tummy bug ever the other night guess who she had tuck her in?

That’s right.. the same lady who sings Jump Around at embarrassing levels in the school pick up lane.

We got this Mama.

At least I think we do.

Big loves Mamas

 

~~Caprise

Single Mom of the amazing Dbl G
Teacher
Sometime DJ
T-shirt collector
Henry Rollins Middle Aged Punk Prom Date

Choosing The Right Education For Your Children

Education is said to be one of the greatest things we can provide for our children.  That makes finding the right education for our children one huge responsibility as single mothers but what do you do when school just doesn’t fit your child?  Between bullying and the rising threat of school shootings toped by inadequate funding for education. I was facing this reality for my oldest son Logan. Logan has a long history of being physically and emotionally bullied in school, by students, paras and a teacher in his educational career.

Logan has an IEP and I have seen him be singled out by some of his mainstream teachers, He doesn’t have a behavioral disorder he is extremely high functioning autistic, which makes socialization difficult sometimes and he can get sensory overload.  About two years ago a para assigned to my boy decided when he laid down on his time out mat for sensory reasons that it would be ok to kick my son in the back and the head. I threw a fit and when the school didn’t do anything about it I pulled him out.

Logan used to be an advanced reader, but because of his IEP he hasn’t been challenged academically, to the point now he has fallen behind. Being frustrated and quite honestly fed up I decided to try a different approach. I have pulled him out of school after another incident and instead of trying a new regular school we are trying a online school.

To be honest this is the first time in a long time I am excited for a new school, and so is Logan. He’s a little down about not hanging out with kids all day but I’ve already signed him up with a fall sport and a spring sport through the community and this school offers events where the kids in the same class can meet each other since it is a locally based school. This school also offers student free career and tech classes once they are caught up. There is live class lessons and discussions where Logan can hear and see his classmates and teacher. The best part of this school is we can make his lessons completely individualized!

So here’s to new beginnings and bright futures I’ll follow up and report how its going before the end of the school year.

Always be unapologetically true to yourself

Ali

Have Kids They Said- It Will Be Fun They Said

Have Kids They Said- It Will Be Fun They Said….

I’m sure you have all heard that phrase before, right?!? I’m not exactly sure who “they” are, but I’m thinking they were drunk or high or maybe even both when “they” came up with that phrase. I know what you are thinking right now…. wow that’s harsh. Maybe, maybe not! Don’t get me wrong, I love my girls more than anything in this world and they are the best two miracles to have ever entered my life. I’m just saying that sometimes (ok, maybe most times) parenting can be downright exhausting. Especially the times when you are grocery shopping and your children are in the dreaded car cart (damn carts) acting out the latest WWF moves with each other.

Back before I had children I planned everything and became anxious and irritated if something didn’t go according to that plan. Then I became pregnant with Emerson and I was beyond thrilled, I started planning her extravagant (maybe it was a bit over the top) nursery right away. Well, apparently Emerson didn’t like plans and decided that she was going to enter the world 4 weeks early after I was diagnosed with severe preeclampsia and hospitalized. When we were finally able to bring Emerson home I realized very quickly that my OCD like behaviors were going to have to take a backseat. There was not enough time in the day to tend to a newborn while sleep deprived and keep a spotless house.

Fast forward almost two years later and I became pregnant with Amelia. I could’ve sworn she was a boy during my entire first trimester. I was so convinced that I had been giving away a lot of Emerson’s girly baby clothes because I wouldn’t need them for a boy. I will never forget the day we did gender reveal cupcakes and Emerson ate into it while I watched on in anticipation awaiting the blue frosting in the middle. The frosting was pink…. I cut open all half dozen cupcakes because I was sure it was a mistake. This confession I always feel bad about, but I can own it. I cried… I cried because I wanted a little boy so badly. I got over it quickly and realized how grateful and thankful I was to have become pregnant again in the first place.

I never in a million years imagined myself being a single mom raising two little girls, it really was not in my life plan. I had met someone ten years ago, whom I thought at that time was my prince charming. Both of our careers were on track, we had each other, and we were living our best lives. Maybe fairy tales really did exist, or at least that is what I thought at the time. Then my world came crashing down on me one piece at a time until I stood at the center of a web of lies and my fairy tale became my worst nightmare.

I’m slowly picking up those pieces and have my friends and family to lean on for support. I look at my girls when they are playing so nicely together (rare moments) and I just have to smile and remind myself that everything truly does happen for a reason. Maybe fairy tales are more complicated in real life, maybe they do not exist at all. However, I owe it to my girls and to myself to keep writing our story, you just never know where it will end up 😉

Remember, hugs are always free!

xX Tamara xX

Single Motherhood…Our Own Version of Special Forces Training for Excellence

Special Forces training in any branch of the Military is well-known as some of the toughest training and conditioning that exists…you must be optimally fit, quick to respond, ready for anything, tougher than nails, able to react in a split second and have the ability to solve problems instantaneously…you also must be able to endure physical pain, emotional discomfort and you must never, ever give up—there is no escape, no turning back, no “I don’t want to”—you have a mission and you must complete it or die trying. Period.

If you have never enlisted in the Military yet you crave this kind of training for excellence you will be happy to know there is another way to receive it…become a single mother.  I promise you that being a single mother will give you the training for excellence that you crave.  The drill is similar to what I described above, however in this situation the training never stops—the classroom is your life and the lessons never ending…

When you are ultimately responsible for another human being there are a lot of behaviors that you can no longer entertain…there is no “I don’t feel like it”, no “I can’t do it”, no “someone else will take care of it”, no “it’s not my problem”.  You have TO DO EVERYTHING, it’s all your problem and nobody cares if you “feel” like it or not…none of that even shows up on the screen.

No matter if you are sick, tired, lazy, angry, or sad you still have to take care of another human being…you have to see that they are clean, fed, safe, stable, happy and well-adjusted—even if you are not…

You are not allowed the grace of going to bed and pulling the covers over your head when life is looking shitty because someone is coming in your room, looking under the covers and asking you where their dinner is…

You may only have complete emotional meltdowns after your child is asleep and then you may only do it QUIETLY…there will be no crying loudly or howling in despair and it is really best if you lock yourself in the bathroom just in case the child awakens…not a good plan for your small person to see their beloved mother on her knees weeping in the living room—this could cause nightmares…and that just means you won’t sleep either…

As a single mother whose ex-husband lives in another state (which was/is me), you will enjoy the fact that someone will be talking to you from 6am until approx. 8:30pm, on weekdays there will be a reprieve caused by school, however on the weekends (when my son was little) the talking was non-stop from sun-up to sun-down…and I was filled with glee each Saturday and Sunday morning when I was joined in my bed by my son, Otter, Bunny, Kitty and Blue Covers…further enthralled when I was informed that I was TAKING UP TOO MUCH ROOM in my OWN bed.

There is no escape, no break, no quitting…there is only putting one foot in front of the other and doing the same thing over and over and over again…laundry, cleaning—constant cleaning, feeding, cooking, listening, explaining, yelling, crying, bathing, paying bills, working, taking care of the car, emptying trash, buying clothes, food shopping, changing shower heads and toilet seats, changing air filters, putting together toys, solving problems, teaching things, disciplining, etc, etc, etc

The list is endless…trust me.  And all of it must be done with a cheerful heart because ultimately it is the path I chose.  I chose not to live in a circumstance that was sucking the life out of me, I chose not to take child support or alimony because I wanted to move to another state and I wanted my ex to have travel money, I chose to raise this child as I saw fit and I chose not to give up who I was just to have someone to lean on…all of it my choice.  My choice is difficult, it is a hard road to hoe…some days much more difficult than others; however I have no regrets, not one…never have.

This training and situation is not for everyone—certainly not for the faint of heart…and sometimes it is scary…

Like the Special Forces, the single mother must be ready for anything, able to act or react in a split second depending on the circumstance at hand.  You must be physically tough and emotionally non-reactive and you must be able to solve a wide variety of problems, some of them involving legos and superheroes.  You must be able to endure picking up bugs and worms and must not run screaming when you see blood, you must carry Kleenex and anti-bacterial wipes and have emergency snack foods in your car at all times…band-aids too—you need band-aids.

The ultimate good news here is that this training will enable you to do ANYTHING…people are constantly asking me “how do you do all that you do?”—  My answer…I JUST DO IT…If I stopped to think about how I can do what needs to be done, nothing would get accomplished…you just DO IT, it doesn’t matter if you are tired, sick, overwhelmed, cranky, mad, sad…you just do it. 

How I feel on any given day doesn’t matter—no one else is here to run this company, or parent my son, or when he was younger pack lunch,  make breakfast, and drive him to school…there was just me and I just DID it.

You have to create your life the way you want it, in every moment you have the choice to be enthusiastic or fowl, productive or lazy, angry or forgiving…there is no one else running your movie…it is just you, so make the best of it.

-have a great Sunday…just keep doing the next thing.  XO, Noelle

 

 

 

Dinosaurs Divorce

We are sitting under the glow of fluorescent bulbs, and I notice the book “Dinosaurs Divorce” on the play therapist’s wooden clipboard, an item on the evening’s agenda. “We have this book as a resource,” she says as I thumb through it. The book depicts Mommy and Daddy dinosaurs arguing with loud noises. Mommy and Daddy dinosaurs stewing silently. Daddy dinosaurs packing dinosaur boxes and placing them in the back of dinosaur moving vans. The therapist’s voice brings me back to reality: “Would you like us to go over this with Brennan? Or is it too overt?” Brennan is my 3-year-old son who isn’t familiar with the word “divorce” but has come to understand that he lives at “Brennan’s house” with Mama. I glance again at the glossary in the front of the book that explains the family law system to children in the way a biology textbook delineates the parts of a cell. My heart is beating fast. “Well, what do you think? Is this what he needs?” I ask her. I’m on foreign soil. She pauses and peers at me over thick-rimmed glasses: “You seem hesitant,” she replies. “Follow your instincts.” “Then, no. Not now.” No to “Dinosaurs Divorce.” No to pushing my kid off the cliff of childhood innocence with brute force.

It’s right after the Ash Wednesday service, and I am meeting my mom in front of Charming Charlie for the usual toddler trade-off. I climb cold and red-nosed into the front seat of her black SUV to sit a minute and turn to grin at my baby boy in the back. “What’s that?” Brennan says, staring intensely at the ashes on my forehead. “It’s in the shape of the cross…” my mother starts. I interject- “It’s just…it’s a religious…” my voice trails off. We move on to different subjects, and Brennan seems to adjust easily enough to the idea of a mother with an inexplicably dirty forehead. “Mom,” I say as we’re moving him and his accoutrements to my car, “I’m not ready to tell him about Jesus yet. I mean, I tell him that Jesus made us, and He loves us but not about His death. Not yet. Let’s just let him be happy. Let him be a kid.” “Of course,” she agrees.

His blue eyes stare up at me, long lashes blinking. “Is Da-Da home?” “No…remember, Da-Da lives at a different house now. He drives a big truck, and he lives with his friends. You’ll see him soon though!” I try to say it with cheer. “Oh yeah,” he replies with disappointment. I regret trying to say it with cheer.

As we drive, I glance back in the rearview mirror at a kid who is excited about driving over a bridge, and I pretend to get excited too. I know life’s not all bridges, but I want it to be. I want it to be happiness and every one of his favorite things. I want to shield him from the grisly deaths of Saviors and families.

I linger in these moments: they are uncomfortable places, sure. I think back to my first trimester of motherhood when the doctor called Brennan an impending miscarriage. In my fear and desperate longing, I spoke to him often. With a hand on my belly and a fierce whisper, I begged him to stay. “Life is not always easy, but it will be good. I’ll be a good mama to you, I promise. Please stay.” He stayed. And I try to stay true to my word, the best I can, here in this messy in-between. Even at three years old, life is not easy. Maybe all of life is a messy in-between. But still, I know: it will be good. It is good.

We get out of the car after another long day of work and play and commuting. It’s dark outside, but the sky is brightly lit. “Look, Mama!” he says. “The moon and the stars and the sky!” “Oh yeah! I LOVE the moon and the stars and the sky!” “Me too, Mama! I love them too!” And before we go into the house for another night of supper and bath time and bed, we stand for a moment and look up together at the big wide world- wild, uncontainable, beautiful.

~Mallory is a Mississippi mama who has been broken by life and softened by grace. She loves pine trees, poetry, and her friends.

Recognition Of The Solitary Mamas

Ok Mamas, raise your hand if you are divorced? Everyone, keep your hands up. How many have been divorced more than one time? That would be me. Show me the ladies that are truly solo without a partner to share parenting. Girls, you have a special place in my heart for you. I can’t imagine. Now, look around. We are not alone. That is a good thing!

I am a mom that has been twice divorced. It is not a bragging right. Sometimes I hold it in high humor. You know, good old Helen did it how many times?

All and each of you are so bad-ass for taking this journey. Oh lord, it can suck out loud more times than none. Cleaning vomit in the middle of the night, a baby that is teething and crying, the never ending colic. With the realization of there isn’t anyone to blame about it, we carry on. We hold the children and just go with it. The laundry is piling up, the house is a mess. And yet, with while bathed in spit up, we managed to get it done. It may not be pretty but you certainly survived. Go you! Do you really think anyone else could pull it off? Absolutely not! That is why we are the blessed mamas. We rock this!

To each and every lady, thank you! We aren’t perfect, we are human. We try, we succeed. The job always gets done. Is there anyone else there to help? Nope. As usual, we are flying solo.

Again, thank you! We strive and work so hard. Our children are the reason why we have the job. The small wet kisses are so wonderful. The giggles and glee are just priceless. Be selfish here, who else gets these kinds of presents? Nobody! Case in point, when they get in front of the camera at college, the first thing we hear is, “Hi, Mom!”. We are special.

You will never be alone in your fight. When bad days happen, when the tears are flowing, remember that we are warriors and you are a rock star. Everyday, all day long and even twice on Sunday. Go You!

 

Striving for exceptional – Tristen Ahlsey

Take Your Cat And Leave My Sweater

In the spring of 2017, my ex and I observed our eleventh wedding anniversary.  Not long after that, we decided to end our marriage.  It was the hardest decision that I’ve ever made.  Divorce is such an ugly word surrounded by negatives.

I make no secret of my love of Pinterest.  Like, most of my life guidance comes from Pinterest and country music-haha.  It is easy to find exactly what you are looking for, whether that is good or bad.  Do you want to support the despair of divorce?  Done.  Do you want to find hope in what’s to come?  That can be done, too.  One of those choices keeps you bound.  The other gives you wings.

I had to get through the sadness of it all before I could get to the blessings that came from our decision to split.  That’s what I want to focus on here.

The hardest thing (for me) about ending a relationship is wondering what you could have done differently.  We exhausted every avenue.  We prayed.  We went to counseling.  We medicated.  We tried to be different people.  We kept arguing more and more.  We love each other very much, but we are very different people.  We kept trying to make it work for the kids, but the kids weren’t happy.  We weren’t helping them anymore.  We were hurting them.

We made a lot of adult choices that weren’t rooted in feelings.  We decided that no matter how we felt towards each other in those first days, we were committed to one thing.  Making this transition as easy on our kids as possible.  We didn’t make schedules.  We showed them that no matter what was happening between us as a couple, we were still committed to them.

When I stopped focusing on what divorce was taking from us, I started seeing what this separation was gifting us.  Solace.  Breathing room.  Peace.  I love Thomas with all my heart.  He is one of my very best friends in this world and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he always has my back.  All of those things were true when we were together, but they were lost in petty disputes.  Fights about everything and nothing at all.  Arguing because we didn’t know how to be happy anymore.  It took him moving out for me to be able to just love him again.

Does this mean we are getting back together?  No.  We would go right back to the same old patterns.  Does this mean we are seeing each other or dating or a couple in any way?  No.  That part of our life is behind us.  What it does mean is we have a new commitment that has nothing to do with anything but doing our best by our family and each other.  It means the court doesn’t have to tell us who can see what child when.  We are capable of deciding that all on our own.  It means that we will be sitting beside each other at sporting events and graduations and weddings.  It means that our kids don’t have to decide where they are spending Christmas, because we are welcome in each other’s homes.  It means our kids can enjoy having two parents who aren’t at each other’s throats all the time.

We are working hard, together, to teach our children valuable lessons during this time.  We are teaching them to be kind and fair and compromising.  We are teaching them that homes are only broken if the people inside them are.  Once those people find the strength to heal, it doesn’t matter what their addresses are.  We are teaching them that love and commitment doesn’t have to be conditional.  It may change over time but what really matters is how you handle those changes.  We are teaching them resilience.

~ LA

You can read more from LA at https://sweeterinthesouth.blog/

Warrior Moms-I am With You.

Warrior Moms, I am With You.

 This is my introduction.

I did not sleep when my daughter was an infant. I held her as I sat upright on a couch while she slept. I held her so she could breathe. I wore eye shadow as war paint so my employer couldn’t see the dark circles, to keep my job.

I breast fed every 4 hours and pumped milk in between so she’d have enough.
I fought doctors, begging them to trust my instincts and listen, screaming I may be a new mom but I know my child. She had sinus infections before a literal sinus, lung collapse, recurring pneumonia and sleep apnea until her emergency surgery (with pneumonia) at 10 months old.

At the age of 3 she was diagnosed with an immune disorder which meant sinus infections 11 months of the year until she was 7. I battled and battered my body, moved us three times, tarred the driveway, and found a way.

It is worth it. You can do this.

My first dog (& co-parent) was diagnosed with cancer three days before Christmas. I sold my jewelry for her medicine, cooked special meals to starve the cancer and lost her (my heart) after an 11-month battle.

I dragged clothing to 10 years of consignment sales and shopped garage sales for toys and clothes. I changed jobs three times and haven’t had a date or break in almost 11 years.

I am with you, warrior moms, who have chronically ill children, work full-time, have a full plate, and have no spare time for you. You can do this.

My daughter just had her ballet recital. I watched her smile. Pause, breathe… arms out… jump and soar.

And I watched her bow.

It is worth it. You can do this.

For better or worse, it’s me.

Bernae

Embrace It Because Time Really Does Fly

Embrace time because it really does fly by…which leads me to what I feel today.  I get those notifications every day from Facebook that are pictures of what I posted “_ years ago today”. I sometimes take the time to look at them, most times not. Today I did-it was pictures of our youngest child…she would’ve been 3. My very last baby. I stayed home with her for the first 5 years of her life-I feel like I have this huge bond with her knowing that she was going to be my last of everything….last 1st bath, last 1st haircut, last kindergarten graduation…ect….it makes me sad but yet also excited for her!

As time flew by with the older two, it’s happening just as fast if not faster with her. Maybe it just seems that way because it’s so bittersweet. I often find myself thinking about all the things and opportunities I have missed with my kids-sometimes I get so caught up in that, I fail to focus on what we have done and just how often we really are together.

Maybe as we age-mortality becomes more of a reality, it did to me anyway. Realizing time doesn’t stop or slow down for anyone!

There truly is never enough time, some days seem like they’re never going to end and only wish for them to! If I knew now what I knew when I was wishing time away, I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Every moment in time is there for a reason. Embrace, learn, experience!

 

Love to all-

Kim