Running On Memories

I have always believed that no matter how long a person is in your life, whether a short time or a life long friend, that each and every person is meant to be there. Each person we meet fits like a puzzle piece into our lives. Take that piece away then there is an empty space. Friendships grow, change, evolve and sometimes lose their way. I have been fortunate to have many amazing women in my life. Some have passed through while others have remained for years. Some friends I have gone years without actually seeing yet that doesn't change the feelings I hold for them. There are new friendships I have formed that have evolved and become strong and vital to me. I am thankful for each and every single one as every person is as unique as the friendship they bring.

Last week I was scrolling through Facebook feed as usual. There it was on her page: "RIP, you will be missed." I instantly felt numb, sick, and sadness washed over me. I jumped to her page and started reading a couple of comments which confirmed my inner fear. She had passed away. I found out on the day she was buried. This burned me even more as I would have been there to send her off in peace. To tell her one last time that I missed her. To let her know that I loved her and no amount of time that separated us would change that.

We grew apart somewhere around 2011. There was no falling out or ugly argument. Both our lives started moving in other directions. We would send one another the concessional "I miss you" either by text or via one another Facebook page yet never get together again. The news of her passing hit me and had me searching for answers. I am not sure what exactly I was looking for. Maybe peace; for her and for me. What I found instead were several conversations on her FB page that she and I exchanged, runs that brought me to tears, and dreams where she lingered. She was gone. That final message on her Facebook wall we exchanged on July 12th, 2012 would be our last. Four years and one day to the day she passed she passed away.

This isn't my grief though. My heart aches as her friend and the friendship we had formed long ago. What pains me the most is that she was not just a woman, not just a friend, but she was a mother. Left behind are children who won't have their mom to call anymore. A daughter who won't be able to have her mother braid her hair, paint her nails, kiss her tears away or go wedding dress shopping with. Left behind are son's who will no longer share the excitement of their day, her arms wrap around them, and hear her voice tell stories of her childhood. It's their sadness that penetrates within me. 

All those little things we take for granted every day, they matter. That is what I kept going back to on my runs each morning. The simple things are really the things that matter most to our children: brushing their hair, washing their hands, and putting them to bed. Singing songs, reading books and belly laughs. Cleaning dirty finger prints off the doors and windows. Wiping boogers and butts and holding them close while they are sick. Getting them ready for their first day of school or sending them off to camp. Many are small tasks we sometimes grumble over. Small yes, but so very important to a child. Each and every interaction we have with our children helps to shape them and they remember the littlest things. Things which we may not realize are so big to them. 

Tears greeted my face a few times as my feet hit the pavement last week. I felt a heaviness in me that was all too familiar and unwelcome. I have never been good at handling my own emotions when it comes to death. I have lost people close to me over the years and one thing I have learned is that grief takes form in many ways and the pain of losing a loved one never truly goes away. All the while my runs were filled with prayer, asking God and her to watch over those children and leave them with only happy memories. There were also prayers of selfishness asking God never to take me from mine. The very thought of it brings me to tears and terrifies me. I want to be able to share and become better at savoring each and every moment. Even all those little ones. The silent ones. They all matter, each and every one. 

Her death reminded me not only of the beautiful person I remember, the one who loved babies and dogs, it also reminded me just how we never know what each day brings. We are not promised tomorrow. There is no guarantee you and I will speak in the morning or even next week. So maybe we all need to be better about telling those we love how much we love them. Send a card, pick up the phone, or make that time to see them. Most importantly, if you have kids, hug them tight. Tell them you love them every chance you get. If they ask to snuggle, then stop what you are doing and snuggle. Those hugs your kids give you, hold on tight when they do. Those dirty little fingers on your glass door that you want to Windex away, maybe just leave them there a little longer. Someday these moments will all seem so far away. Let's not wish we would have made the time for all the amazing small moments. I hope I can be better about creating more and living in them. This life is a gift, always live it with a grateful heart. Most importantly: Always say I love you! 


"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people stay for awhile, and move our souls to dance. They awaken us to a new understanding, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never, ever the same." ~ Flavia Weedn

Get Social with me: Facebook, Instagram, & Twitter!

Running Away From Fear

I run for many reasons. Each run is different, unique and my intention for each run changes from one run to another. Some runs I do for me and solely me. There are days I run to clear my head and find focus in my life. Other times I run simply for the joy of running; to become one with that feeling of being free. To feel strong and empowered. Then there are times I run to escape something. For the past couple of weeks I spent the majority of my runs running away from fear.

My five year old son developed and umbilical hernia when he was around five weeks old. I wasn't alarmed at first as I knew what it was. It continued to grow in size and by the time he was eight weeks old we were seeing a pediatric surgeon for evaluation. Approximately 15 to 20 percent of babies are born with an umbilical hernia. From that very first visit the surgeon informed us that most children with umbilical hernias have them spontaneously resolve on their own by the time they are five. If the hernia does not resolve by the age of five it is recommended to have the hernia surgically repaired. For five years we visited our surgeon with the hopes that it would close on its own. Unfortunately for my son he was not one of the lucky ones.

I scheduled surgery for Chase right before Christmas at our yearly recheck appointment. This gave us two months to prepare him and ourselves for surgery day. I stood at the front desk that day as the receptionist was going over everything feeling nauseous and fighting back the tears. Both my son's were right there and I was not going to let them see me upset. It was my job to be strong for Chase and I would vow that any tears I would shed would not be in front of him. I didn't want him feeding off me. I needed to hold it together and be his rock.

The next two  months we would casually bring it up. I wanted him to be as prepared as a five year old could be for surgery. The procedure itself would last under an hour and I was told I could be with him until he was anesthetized. Simple procedure or not, my son was still going to have to be put under anesthesia. Though I knew he would be in great hands it did not stop my mind from traveling to all the "what if's" that could happen under anesthesia. I am a Veterinary Technician and have spent plenty of time in surgery. It's always been one of my favorite places as a technician. Though animals and children are very different, the process of how anesthesia works is the same. I am fully aware that each patient can respond differently. I also know that risks for things to go wrong are low. Low or not, there are risks! As a mother it is difficult not to go to "those places" that scare you the most.

The two weeks prior to the procedure I felt out of control with my feelings. I was irritable, easily frustrated and feeling emotional. I couldn't wait for my husband to come home so I could get out the door and run. I talked about my fears some with my husband yet kept most of what I was feeling inside until I ran. I would run and try to process everything I was feeling. I felt like someone was suffocating me. I needed to try and get away from these feelings that were wrapping around me. I needed to run away from my fear.

The day before my son's surgery on my run I tried to fight back how scared I was. I couldn't do it any longer. I was trying so hard to be strong for my child and I needed to just let go. That last mile I could no longer fight the tears. The cold wind blew my salty tears from my face as I ran harder and faster. I was terrified and just wanted it all to be over. I needed that run that day. I needed to allow myself to feel the things that I feared.

Chase, with a smile during Pre-Operation

Chase was amazing the morning of surgery. Pro-Op procedures went well and he had a smile on his face most of the time. Everyone was amazing with him as well as kind and supportive to us. They let me lay in a hospital bed with Chase and they wheeled us both to the OR. I can't even imagine what what going through his head. I am not sure I could even process what I was feeling being wheeled down halls and around corners to reach our destination. Once in the OR it was time to begin anesthetizing my son. I wrapped my arms around him as he took his first breaths like a champ. It was within a minute he started to respond to the anesthesia and his arms and legs started to flail. This is normal and I knew that. Still, holding your child as their tiny body soon goes limp in your arms is a feeling I never want to have again. Even worse, having them being taken from your arms and placed on an operating table and you having to walk away.

Walking away from him was the hardest thing I had ever done! My chest felt heavy, it was as though someone was squeezing my heart and refusing to let go. As I was escorted back to the Pre-Op room I felt like he was a million miles away. I wanted to run back and grab him. I felt helpless and alone. All I wanted to do was hold him, touch him and know he could feel my love. 

I sat in a chair in the lobby of the hospital clutching onto his favorite blankie and his new Paw Patrol dog ("Chase" of course!) that we had given him that morning in the car before entering the hospital. I cried and though my husband was right there with me I felt like I was alone in a crowded room and no one could even see me. If I pause for a moment I can still connect with that feeling and I hate it. I never want to feel that way again!

Within an hour we met with the surgeon who escorted us to go see Chase. As we walked he talked about the surgery and recovery. I am not sure I really heard much of what he said for all I needed to know was that he was OK. The first sight of him he was still sleeping wrapped in white blankets and surrounded by pillows to keep him warm. His temp was low and they were trying to warm him up. He looked so little and helpless. For a moment it was like looking at him for the very first time again. As if I had just given birth to this amazing creature all over again. He was here, he was OK, and soon I would be bringing him home and this will all be a distant memory.

I am fortunate that my children are healthy. I commend each and every parent who has to go through things far worse and ugly than we did. My child is healthy and I will watch him grow, thrive and be a strong man. Some are not as fortunate. Other parents endure surgery after surgery or have to stand by and be strong while watching their child go through chemo or some other ailment. To those of you parents, I admire your strength and courage. I will never take for granted how very lucky I am for my children. I thank God for this amazing journey I am able to take with my husband. Being a mother to my two boys is the most amazing blessing I have ever been given. I can't imagine living without my loves.

Chase is one amazing and brave young boy. I admire his strength through all of this. He makes me so proud and this whole thing makes me feel closer to him. It's astounding what kids can endure. Children are resilient, fearless, and merciful. 

Saturday morning Chase was feeling well enough that I felt comfortable heading out for a run. I ran for the first time in weeks with a sense of freedom. I felt grateful, relieved and had an amazing run. I was no longer running from fear, I was running out of gratitude and happiness. I was able to smile and breathe instead of battling emotions I had no idea how to handle. With each step I felt like I was floating above the pavement, this run was exactly what I needed. Next time fear decides to come around it better just turn around and head in another direction. Fear can't catch me, I am way too fast!



Recent Posts:
Make it A Way Of Life, Not A Diet
How I Went From "That" Woman To "This" Woman

A Safe Place For Our Children

I remember it like it was just yesterday, playing in the yard as a child with my brother. Barbie and G.I. Joe colliding  to save the day. Matchbox cars driving through dirt and mud. Magnifying glasses used to burn Japanese beetles. In the winter we built snow  forts. We built them high, made tunnels, and pretended it was our home. We played for hours on end never caring to spend time in the house. My parents wouldn't have let us anyway, if it was light and not freezing out we were expected to play outside. My mother could always just peek out the window to check on us. The echo's of our laughter and play could fill the air without much adult supervision. We were free, we were exploring, we were playing as children should, yet most of all...we were safe.

My oldest son,Chase, is almost five (next month!! Not sure how the hell that is even possible!) This kid loves to be outside. He loves to be active, to explore and be the boy he is. Dirt, stones, acorns, tree branches and worms are fascinating to him. His little mind is full of wonder and imagination. We are fortunate to live in a place where there are children around his age right next door and behind our house. Chase loves his buddies and the second he sees them outside he wants to be right there with them. I trust him and I know that he can be outside without direct supervision. I know he won't go near the road or roam off. He just wants to play. I trust him, but I don't trust the world in which he lives in.

It is the same thing when we go visit my folks. They live in a safe neighborhood with a fenced in yard. It's the same yard I played in growing up. I have to admit I have a hard time letting my son outside without me being right there. I get anxious and nervous, peering out the window to watch his little self enjoying the same things I did at his age. It's not the same. It is not the same world it was when I was growing up. What is safe anymore? What has this world turned into for our children?

I fear leaving my kids each time I do. The fear starts as mommy guilt, goes to "What if something happens to them", to "What if something happen to me?" and "What if someone hurts them?" That feeling of safety is no longer there for our children. It is filled with worry and dread. Trust has been thrown out the door and belief in kindness has been replaced with fear of our fellow human beings. It is utterly sad for me that my children will never be safe the way I was.

School use to be a safe place to be. I don't have any memories of shootings in schools the way our children will. It is unpredictable. It is her child, his child, and maybe even my child. No parent raises a child to be a killer, yet there are so many shootings involving our youth. None of those parents expect it or deserve it. It causes pain and grief for everyone. My heart aches for the parent that loses their child to such senselessness. I cannot even fathom the feeling those parents have when they receive word that their child will not be coming home. I hope to have to never experience what that pain is. I hope even more that my children never have to witness evil the way so many of our youth have.

It hurts my heart in a way that makes it difficult to even put into words. I wish my children could have the youth I once had. I want them to be able to explore, play and imagine without so many restrictions. Then comes the harsh reality that I cannot protect them from all of these evils. I cannot stop any of this from happening. I also cannot and will not stop them from living. I know how important it is for my children to BE CHILDREN! It's that simple yet so complicated all at once. I can't put my children in a bubble, and I wouldn't. They deserve to have what we did. They need to be able to experience life for all the wonderful things that it is.

I want a safe place for my children, for our children. I want a place without pain, sadness, grief and evil. That safety has to come from within the walls of our homes. It starts each morning as we get them up and every night as we kiss them before bed. It is in our arms as we hold them tight. It is in our words when we tell them we love them.

We cannot stop what goes on outside our homes. What we can do is practice acts of kindness. We can talk to our children and teach them about the power of love. We can teach them what peace is. It is not simple nor can just one person create safety for our children. It takes an army of us to protect our children: It's teachers, law enforcement and other parents; It is coaches, mentors and friends. I am thankful for the tribe which helps to raise and teach my children. I need them, you need them and our children need them.


This post is dedicated to the 20 young souls of Sandy Brook and their teachers, who left this world three years ago yesterday. May their memory bring comfort, peace and strength to their loved ones.

Making Time For Me Without The Fear And Guilt

Now that I have children most everything I do revolves around them. I can't take a piss or even wipe my ass by myself. Shopping means I do it with two little creatures with me, some days I feel like I have a circus of monkeys with me. I even share my bed with one of them, he sleeps comfortably in the middle as I hang on for dear life on the edge. I am not complaining, I wouldn't have it any other way. I wished them, dreamed of them, and finally was blessed with them. 

The one thing that I have neglected as a mother is myself. I have lost a piece of me in this new role as mom and forgotten who that other girl was years ago. Believe me, parts of her are better left in the past. Yet underneath all the laundry, diapers, and matchbox cars there is a woman who needs to take time for herself.

It is so easy to get lost in everyday routine and forget how important it is to do things for yourself. For me this is what running has become to me. It serves as my therapy, my church, and my personal time to reflect. It is my time to give back something to myself. I need to get out there and I make the time to do it. I don't go out much and most of the time I see my friends it is with small children in tow. We call them "Play dates" but really they should be called "Mommy arranged this so you could go play and mommy can have an adult conversation". Okay, so that is a little long. We could just refer to it as a "Mommy Date".  I remember a girl who use to love being on a dance floor until the bars closed. I didn't have to worry about waking early to change diapers and do obscene amounts of laundry. That girl always made time for herself. 

My children have made me a new woman. I keep learning new things about her along the way. This woman hates being away from her children. They come first and I don't even have to think twice about it. Being away from them makes my heart feel heavy; as though there is this gigantic empty space within me when they are not there. 

I am getting better at being away from them. Two weeks ago my husband and I had date night. It felt freeing that I was able to go enjoy some quality time with him without worrying how the boys were and not rushing to eat my food and get down a couple of drinks before getting back to them. This weekend I also went out to dinner with three of my dear friends. Just four women sitting in a nice restaurant enjoying one another's company. Four mom's who love their children immensely yet also need one another.

I love being with my children yet I also need to have healthy and happy relationships with my husband and my close friends. This means taking the time to spend with these people without my children around. Most importantly, it is remembering that it is OK to take time away from them. Going for a run, going out on a date or spending time with my girlfriends is not selfish. Doing these things are essential to being a better mother.

I need to take care of myself and do things that make me happy. I need to honor the woman I am and allow myself to do things without my children. A part of me feels that there will be plenty of time when they are out of the house someday and right now I need to soak up as much of them as I can. This is true, they are only little once. This is where the guilt comes in when I am away. Then my mind takes me to crazy places. I am terrified of something happening to them if I am not there. Then there are times when I am without them I fear something will happen to me and I won't be able to be there for them. I can't imagine life without my children and I never want to leave them without a mother.

It's that fear that makes it difficult for me to walk out the door. That same fear that tugs at me saying I don't need to go out. I am working on overcoming that fear and living my life without it. I just can't help my mind going to these places. When I do I feel my heart tighten and it feels like someone is standing on my chest. The tears collect in my eyes as I try to blink the images away from my mind and breathe. 

Fear will not win this battle. I will continue to do my best to be thankful for each and every moment I have with my children. I will enjoy their laughter and screeches of joy. I will make memories and share moments with them that we will talk about for years to come. I will also try harder to make more time for myself. It doesn't always have to be going out. It can be as simple as taking time to read a book or going for that run. 

Making memories with our children and being happy means mommy needs to be happy too. We have to remember that in order to take care of these little creatures we have to first take care of ourselves. If we want happy, healthy children we have to live that. We are the most important examples they see. Our children learn so much by watching us. Our children become reflections of who we are.

I am working on it, but I vow to try to be better about taking more time for me. I want to be the best I can be for my children so I will be sure to take time to do some of the things that make me happy, without the fear or guilt. I will go for my runs and lose myself in the steps I take. I will make sure my husband and I take the time for one another because one day it will be back to him and I. I will make more dates with my girlfriends so we can laugh about this chaotic ride called motherhood. I deserve it!

A Unique Love; There Is No Favorite Child

I love both my children immensely. My heart swells when I see their faces each morning and I know that I am fortunate to have them. For some reason they chose me to be their mother...those poor things...It is amazing some days that these two boys are brothers. I see similarities in them yet they are very different. Chase is my fire cracker. He is out going, energetic, eager, mischievous, and wild. Wesley on the other hand is laid back, shy, sweet, yet is has little fear. He has no qualms about climbing things and sending me into panic mode. Just as my boys are different, so is my love for them.

Chase is my first born, there is something sacred about that. There will never be another "first". The feelings I felt when I was pregnant to the first time I laid eyes on him are all moments that I will hold dear to me. Out of both of the boys he is most like me. I see it all the time, in things he does as well as the things he says. We can be close one moment then collide the next. I like to whisper in his ear that he is my "Favorite Person". Truth be told, he really is. Even in challenging moments (believe me, lately there have been several of those) I know he is an amazing boy. He may try to dodge my kisses yet he still asks to snuggle and insists on nightly back rubs from either myself or his father.

Then there is Wesley. I was just saying to his father that there is just "something" about him. I feel this connection with him that is very different. I can't say that I can pinpoint exactly what it is. When I was pregnant with Wesley he was diagnosed with Hydronephrosis. I spent half of my pregnancy not having answers and wanting to protect my child. I would lay awake at night and pray for a healthy baby. We were blessed with exactly that though I wonder if going through this with him drew me into him in a way that only I can feel but not explain. He is my "baby" and will always be just that. There is an innocence he possesses which intrigues me. He is a mama's boy; wherever I go he must go. 

No, I do not have a favorite child. My love for my children is equal and continues to grow within me each day. I do feel it is fair to say that my love for both of them is different. As they are both their own unique creatures, so is the love I have for each of them. They both make up parts of me as I make up part of them. It goes beyond our blood, it is deeper than the ocean, and higher than the moon that hangs over their heads. My love for them cannot be measured nor can it be uttered in words that amplify their true meaning.  Each of my boys have my love and it is limitless and unconditional.

I  know as the years go by there will be shifts in both relationships with each boy. I know there will be times that one may be more drawn to me than the other. I also know that there will be times my relationship with one of them may cause a heavy heart. This is life. This is the hard part of parenting and raising little people. We are challenged, we are tested, we are forced to feel things that cause our hearts to ache.

We are also rewarded by the same love. We are given the most incredible gift we could ever receive. Nothing measures the love you share with your child. It is blissful, astounding, alluring, and magnificent. I am blessed to experience two very different and amazing loves.

What I Want My Children To Know About Love

I am in recovery from a most epic weekend. For those of you who know me or have been following me, you know that after five and a half years my partner and I finally took the plunge. Yes, it is official : I am a "Mrs" now!

We have done most everything in our relationship backwards; I have never been one to follow the rules. I do not regret any part of it. It is our own "Fairy Tale" made up of love, laughter, and two boys who we are wildly in love with.

It was special having the boys be a part of our day. They were dressed up in little suits equipped with ties and dress shoes that my four year old still insists on wearing with his shorts. Our little guy had no idea what was going on yet we have talked with Chase about this wedding since we started planning it five months ago. He still doesn't fully understand what marriage is yet I hope he will remember the day as he gets older. I want him to have flashes of us standing there, face to face, vowing to spend the rest of our lives together. With that being said this is what I want my children to know about love:

Love who you want: Do not let race, gender, or what anyone else says deter you from true love.

There is no perfect way to love, though love can be perfect for two people: We spend our lives trying to perfect relationships when all we need to do is love with our heart and souls. It won't always be easy, there will be times that it will be down right hard and ugly. In those times you need to love more. Give more. Every relationship is different and no one's love is greater than another.

You must have laughter in a home: Love is about happiness and bringing out joy in one another. If you can laugh together then you have found the antidote to any sadness that may weather in your home.

It's not a job, but it is work: In order for any relationship to thrive you need to work on it all the time. Love requires the commitment to allow it to grow and change. Love will be challenged, love may even hurt. Love will also heal.

Support one another: Know what the other is passionate about and support that passion even if it is not yours! Listen, be present, and encourage your partner to do what he or she wants.

Forgive: There will be fights, screaming, and sometimes crying. Never hold onto an argument. It is not about who is right and who is wrong. It is called compromise. Find that place in the middle where you both can feel that your feelings have been acknowledged.

Live in the moment: Never take the other one for granted. Life is a gift, often times taken away too quickly. Live each day as your last. Each day smile, laugh, and kiss one another. Go to bed every night with the last words being "I Love You."

Be thankful: Your love to one another is a gift. It is sacred. Create moments of gratitude with your partner. Let them know you appreciate them, that you appreciate the love you have made.


It has only been five years yet I hope that my children see the love we have for one another and grow knowing it. In thirty, forty, fifty years from now I want my children to look at us and never doubt the love we have for one another. These things are what I want my children to know about love.

Changing The Way You Parent

Before being a parent I always knew I wanted children. I also had this vision of how I would parent and felt confident that there were certain things that as a mother I would never do. You know what I am talking about right? We observe others parent and make notes in our mind that we are not going to do it "that way".

Whether you want to admit it or not we all have opinions about how other people parent. We may not speak those things out loud (trust me, you don’t want to hear it!) yet we are always critiquing silently in our minds. It is the voice that says: “I would never do that!" Then the bitter truth comes to bite us in the ass later on, that in fact, we have done it! The ideas we once had on parenting have suddenly changed. You learn that what you thought may work for you and your child is suddenly not at all what you envisioned.

Once upon a time, before there were two little boys running around my house, I swore I would never let my children share a bed with me. Absolutely was there no way I would co sleep with my children! I believed that children should sleep in their own space and my bed was for their father and me to share, without them!

My first son arrived and he was determined to make the first few weeks as difficult as he could for this new mama. I tried getting him to sleep in his co sleeper bassinet next to me. I tried his car seat, his swing, and bouncy seat. None of it worked. The only way I could get him to sleep was laying on his belly on my chest. Finally, I surrendered to this tiny creature. I needed to sleep just as much as he did. For the first two weeks my son Chase slept on my chest. 

Eventually after trying what seemed like several exhausting attempts I was able to get him to sleep in his co sleeper next to my bed. The trick was he needed to be on his belly. They tell you not to put a baby on their belly but this was the only way he would sleep. Chase remained next to me for three months until he could roll and outgrew the co sleeper and we moved him into his own room into the crib. He was never a good sleeper and I found that as a nursing mother it was easier just to keep him with me in bed. He would start out in his crib but eventually find his way with me. 

When I found out I was pregnant with my second son, Wesley, I made the decision that I would co sleep. Somewhere within me, after a couple years of being a new mom, I changed my mind! I decided this time around I was going to allow my son to sleep (safely) in my bed. It was an easy decision. Maybe it was due to the fact that I was sleep deprived and couldn’t think straight after baby number one. For whatever reason, (did it really matter why?) we started co sleeping with our new baby.

Wesley is now twenty two months old. He has never been in a crib. We are trying to transition him to a toddler bed next to our bed. There are some nights he will sleep till the early hours in the morning in his own bed. Most nights though he has mastered going from his bed to hoisting himself up and over me to squeeze in between his father and I. I do not regret having him bed share with us. I do know transitioning him will take some time and I am OK with that. Having him with me made things less stressful. That warm little body next to me will someday turn into a big boy. He will have his own bed, own space and have no desire to be in our bed.

Having my child next to me was the right choice for me and my partner. It was never what I intended but the bottom line is that is the wonder about parenting. It is OK to change your mind. Each child, each parent, each situation is unique. Remember that they are only little for a short time. You have to discover what works for you. Sometimes that means you change your mind. And that my friends, is OK! 

How I may do things with each boy may even become different as the years go by. I have no idea what I am doing. What I do know is that I will do my best to do what feels right for my children and our family. I have learned more in this job than I have in anything else I have ever done. The pay may suck yet no money in the world could match the reward of love and joy I get from my boys each day.

Changing my mind also reminds me to remember to not judge that other parent. We need to support one another, lean on one another, and encourage one another. There are enough battles in this world, how a person parents should not be one of them. We have good days, bad days, and some are just down right ugly. This ride we are on as parents is one which we all share. No matter how different we may be we are still doing the same thing: trying to raise happy, healthy, and strong little people. 

This Is Why I Blog: More Than Telling A Story

I remember being a teenager and spending hours in my room. I didn't have a TV in my room and I wouldn't have wanted one anyway. I was content lying on my bed with the radio bellowing 80's tunes in the back ground while I either read a book or even better, lost myself in the pages of my journal. Those empty pages invited me to pour myself into them. They asked me to open myself up and free my mind of all the clutter. Those pages lured me in and allowed me to surrender myself to honesty in a way that only blank pages allow. This is why I wrote then and part of the reason I write now.

I had just had my second son,Wesley, four months prior to when I decided to start my blog. The thought had briefly crossed my mind once or twice yet I never actually went through with it. Then one day I sat down to write my first entry, creating my new "home". I was always writing. Every run I went on I could conduct an essay. I was filling the pages of my jumbled mind with stories, happenings, memories, and hopes. I knew I needed to start writing again. I needed to do this blog for for me.

Calling it a "Blog" almost seems to take from it what it is to me. The definition hanging loosely without depth. I would not even call it a hobby. Taking pictures is a hobby, writing to me is healing. I am fortunate to be a part of thousands of women and men who write. I am in a sea of talent, intrigue, and magical words. Writing offers a place to grow, discover, share, and acknowledge our feelings... our lives...those little things that make us feel alive. The powerful things which make our hearts swell and our fingers eager to write more. It gives me a sense of peace and freedom.

I tend to do my best writing on my runs. This is my happy place. The roads in front of me offering a blank canvas for me to do whatever I want on them. Sometimes I think of senseless stuff. There are times when I reflect and focus on me, though most of the time as I run I create and write my posts. If I am lucky I remember them long enough to jot down my thoughts or sit at my laptop to pour myself into the Blogger Document that is in front of me now.

I write for my children. I write to document all the joys and happiness along with sorrows and heartbreaks that parenting brings. I want them to be able to someday pull up this blog and feel every ounce of love that I have for them. I want them to know that it is them who makes me want to be a better person. Those two little faces I wake up to each morning; they are growing and I am growing with them. I am "Mama". I am this because of them. I am "Discovering Me In Them" each and every sacred moment I am given with them.

Lastly, I write for you. I write in hopes that my stories touch you. I want to be able to have others feel like they know exactly what I am feeling. That yes, they have been there before too! I want to inspire and create strength within you all. I rely on optimism to bring me through each day, every situation, and those dark moments we all have. "Always Believe You Can". Life is an amazing gift, do not take it for granted. Hold on to each moment and live in it. Create happiness and happiness will follow you. Step outside of your comfort zone and do something that scares you. You might just find that it was the very thing you needed.

This Blog...I needed!



I have to share the Urban Dictionary's definition of a Blog.  It made me laugh so here you go:

"A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid, pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as "homework sucks" and "I slept until noon today."


These are some of my reasons for writing. What are yours? What is something you are passionate about?

5 Reasons to Love Date Night

It is Friday and tonight I have a date planned with the soon to be "hubs". We do not go out often so I am a bit excited about this. Tonight's date we are going to spend money we do not have an on a good dinner. Hey, we deserve it! Afterwards we will  mosey on out to look at wedding bands! Jewelery, food and drinks; you can't go wrong.

I use to feel anxiety leaving my children. Okay, so maybe I still feel a tinge of guilt. The reality is we will probably spend most of the dinner talking about them. I can say that I have finally gotten to a point where I do enjoy spending time alone with "The Man" without feeling the guilt of leaving my kids. I now know that I need to embrace these times. I started thinking about it and there are a few reasons why I LOVE date night. Let me share a few with you.

 

1~ Getting dressed up: These days I am either seen in my yoga pants, a pair of lounge pants or my running clothes. There is no point in getting dressed in anything other than this. Half the time I leave the house I am covered in drool and yogurt stains. I haven't worn a cute pair of heals in months. My hair is either in a pony or often resembles a birds nest. Who the hell has time to do their hair when they are trying to get two toddlers dressed, fed, and attempting to keep them from killing one another before noon?! Tonight I am going to take a shower, maybe even shave, and blow dry my hair. I will put on make up, perfume and even that new bra I bought weeks ago that I have only worn a couple times since I seem to have an unhealthy relationship with my nursing bra...Oh wait, it's because I have a nineteen month old who thinks my boobs are his. Not tonight baby, those ladies are coming out with me!

2~ Someone serves me: For once I get to sit my ass down and have someone take my order and serve me! There will be no demands, screams, or yelling coming from the kids mouths. I will be able to have someone else cater to me. I won't have to move anything but my arm to bring my drink to my mouth. There will be no crumbs at my feet, no dogs drooling from the other room, and food will remain on the plate and not flying across room as I duck so it doesn't hit me. I won't have to threaten them to eat their food, there will be no time outs, and no dishes to do after! I won't have to worry about wiping faces, hands or asses. I have left that task to Nana & Pop-Pop since they seem to think their grandsons are so cute.

3~ Enjoying A Few Drinks:  I enjoy a few too many drinks on the weekends. I am strict with myself all week and look forward to Friday night. It is amazing I make it through most days without hiding in the bathroom with a bottle. Most of these weekend nights I am lucky if I get to finish a beer before it gets warm or the baby spills it over. I also have suffered through two pregnancies where I had to watch The Man enjoy several of his favorite drinks while I had to patiently wait for my children to exit my body before I could take part in this "sport". It is in my intentions to not only have a couple of drinks but to be sure I get a good buzz on. Tonight the Man gets to drive MY ass around! No DD for this Mama.

4~ Quality Time: Since these moments between myself and The Man are almost extinct these days I am grateful for these times. I love being around him and even though I miss the creatures it is important to take time for US. It is vital for our relationship that we have these dates to come back to where it all began; with him and I. Some day our children will not want to snuggle us, play with us, and hold our hands. Someday it will be back to him and I again, just as before they were here. I want us to be sure to take time to share with one another. To continue to work on our relationship. To remember why we fell in love and to keep that fire burning.

5~ Returning Home: After the couple of hours that belong to this date we will go and pick up our children and return home. I will never get old seeing the look on my children's face when I have been gone and walk through that door. It is kind of like the puppy who won't stop licking your face even though you just went to get the mail. I love feeling those little arms wrap around me, the nestling into my neck, followed by as many kisses I can get in before one of them swats me away.

I am not sure when the next date night will be. We tend to go several months between them, have even once gone a full year without a date. Tonight I plan to enjoy each moment of Date Night!!

Now, time to figure out what I am going to wear...


Happy Friday! How often do you do date night?

The Day I Hurt My Son's Feelings

As mothers we do our best to try and protect our children. We give them love, nurture them, and help them thrive. We do everything in our power to shield our children from sadness and pain. Each time either one of my toddlers gets hurt they run to me to make things better. Whether there is blood or the optical illusion of it, my children want my arms around them to make them feel better. That is until I am the one who causes the pain. The other day I hurt my son’s feelings and a piece of my heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

The four year old, Chase, was upset with his one and a half year old brother,Wesley, for whatever reason; a toy was taken away, he had something the four year old wanted, or merely the simple fact the he was even born. It is usually one of those three things that sets things off. Chase decided it would be a good idea to push his little brother over. This of course resulting in big crocodile tears from the little guy and mama bear suddenly had her claws out.

I can tolerate a good amount from my son before I spontaneously com-bust. What I do not tolerate in my house is being mean. I do understand that pushing, wrestling, and fighting is what siblings do. Yet I also feel it is important to correct behaviors that may cause harm. It wouldn’t be the first time the baby “fell” into the door. As I tell Chase, mama sees everything!

I reacted this particular day before taking a moment to think. I yelled at Chase, most likely roaring like a mama bear would do, and grabbed him to put him in a time out. Now it wasn’t just Wesley that was crying but Chase, and deep down I had to stifle back my crying. I was frustrated and angry at Chase for his behavior and in that first moment I wanted him to know it.

After the storm had settled in the house I went to Chase so we could talk about what happened. I try be sure we always discuss why he received his time out now that he is getting old enough to understand what feelings are and how our actions affect others. I told him that what he did made me sad. I asked him how he would feel if someone treated him the way he treated his brother. After the conversation life went back to normal. That is until Chase said something to me that made me feel like I had gotten slapped in the face:

Chase: “Mama, I made you sad?”

Me: "Yes, I am disappointed in you. I don’t like when you treat your brother like that. It hurts my feelings.”

Chase: “Well, I am sad too. You hurt my feelings too when you yelled at me.”

There it was. I hurt his feelings. Me, mama, I made him sad. Yes, he is four. Yes, he can manipulate. Yes, it is my job to set limits and discipline him. I believe in limits and boundaries for children. But "this" moment, "those" words, I knew they were real. It doesn't matter how it happened, it is that it happened at all. I was the one to hurt my son. Even worse, is when I realized that this would not be last time it happens.

I  have to remember that as his mother I need to teach him. In some of those tough moments there will be times that feelings will get hurt. What I would like to take from this is that maybe in the times that I feel like I am ready to "roar", that I take a moment to stop and wait before I respond. I don't want to regret my actions due to reacting too quickly. Much easier said than done and I already know this is something that I have to work on. 

I know that there will be several moments to come that will be challenging for our relationship. There will be stages and ages which will be harder than others. We will grow close, and there will be times in which we fall apart. Any relationship takes work, effort, love and strength. I know that as his mother I will always have to apply all of these things to our relationship.

Perhaps this is about forgiveness. Him forgiving me, me forgiving him, and possibly the most difficult: me forgiving myself.


Thank you for stopping by! If you like it please share it!

Being the "Other" Woman

I use to know this woman. There were many things about her I will never forget. She lingers in my memory and once in awhile I can catch glimpses of her if I close my eyes and take a moment to drift back in time.

She was feisty and vivacious. When she laughed the whole room could hear her. She was a bit on the wild side. She liked to party, to drink, to dance into the early hours of the morning. It was knee high boots, lipstick, and perfume.

As I talk about her now I see her spending money frivolously as she sits at the bar with a drink in her hand. It is only her. Sometimes there is a man but he never stays for that long. She cannot seem to get it right. Dating for her is like a train wreck. She is constantly derailing and losing herself more along the way. She thinks that she is happy. She does not yet know what happiness is.  

My eyes fill with tears for her and I blink them away and smile. She just wasn’t ready. She needed to let life happen. There were mistakes to be made. Lessons to be learned. She needed to grow. To be able to love herself before life could give her the greatest gifts of all.

Fast forward a bit. I can tell you now that this woman is no longer there. Today is she is stronger and more fierce than she ever thought she could be. She has learned to fight hard for the things that she wants. It is through her unsteady feet that she learned to find balance and stand tall. She learned what it felt like to take chances. She realized that there is a plan for her. The road ahead was paved with laughter, love and tiny miracles.

Love came walking into her life. Real love. The kind that ignites a fire in you and creates a warmth in you only felt by true love. She found companionship and loyalty. She didn't need to look for it, love found her.

Then, the most amazing thing happened; she became a mother.

This woman would learn what the real important things were in life. It didn’t always mean that she would always feel glamorous. There would be no more staying up all night because she chose to; it would be because her children kept her up all night. She wouldn’t be at a bar dancing. Dance parties would now take place in her living room with her two children bouncing right next to her. It was in these moments that she would feel more alive than she ever did. It took two little boys to change her world. They saved her.

Motherhood can be "messy". It is truly the hardest job that I have had. I am challenged each moment of every day to be the best that I can be for my children. I don’t always get to shower. It has been a long time since I have had lunch with a girlfriend or even a date with my man. I don’t get raises, or recognized as “employee of the month”. I hardly hear “thank you”. I rarely get my hair done and let's not even talk about how long it has been since my last pedicure. Some days I am exhausted and just want to get away.

All of that is so small compared to the bigger things motherhood has brought me. I am truly the happiest I have ever been. There is nothing like this love. I am consumed by it and grateful to be this woman now. This woman is blessed to wake each morning to two boys who make every second worth living. Every moment that I am given with them is a treasure.

I think about that other woman once in awhile. I haven’t forgot about her and she comes alive in me from time to time. I can see her other times when I watch my children. She is right there in them; pieces of me living on in them. I would be lying if I said I didn't miss her...

Today, now, this woman; she is a the woman I was meant to be.



If you liked this post (fingers crossed) than please Like, Share, and Tweet! Much Love! 

 

The Four Letter Word Forbidden in My House

There should probably be a swear jar in my house for the amount of four letter words used on a daily basis. Some are muttered, whispered under my breath countless times a day. Others become echo's throughout the walls of this house. I should really be putting some effort into not using some of these words. Truth be told; I like to swear. Really, I am not sure I want to control it. There are so many fabulous four letter words!

With that being said there is one four letter word that is forbidden. The very sound of it makes me cringe. I truly despise this word and will not allow it to be said in my presence. If I hear it, I correct it. My children will not be allowed to use it unless it is in the correct context. I will not let my ears hear the word: CAN'T!

Chase, my four year old, is at an age where he is learning new things. He is discovering, exploring, and evolving. He is being challenged every day and I watch him get frustrated. I see the look of fear some days. I watch the change in his expression as he gets discouraged. Lately he has been saying that he "can't" do certain things. I am quick to correct him. I remind him that, yes, you CAN do it. I make an effort to help resolve whatever the situation is and prove to him that he is capable.

I want my children to believe in themselves. I want them to exude confidence. I don't want them to think they are able to fly like batman, yet I feel it is important for my children to at least always try their best. I want them to strive for the things they want and believe in; no matter how hard that may be. 

Life can be difficult and cruel. We are faced with heartache and pain. We love, we lose. We stand, we fall. We are constantly challenged and we either choose to rise above the struggles or surrender to them. I know that I cannot protect my children from any of that. The harsh reality is that I will watch most of it. I will feel their sting from disappointment. I will ache for them when they get their heart broken. I will cry along with them when they feel defeated. I will also be there in those times to reassure them. To help hold them up. I will push my children to believe that they CAN and allow them to feel that sense of pride in their decision to try.

There is a euphoric feeling that comes from being able to do something you did not think you could do. Sometimes we need to step outside of our comfort zone to discover things about ourselves. We do not always look in the mirror and see our beauty and strength deep within. It's in moments of being scared, falling down, and trying to do something we have never done before; those are the moments where we are born. Those moments may not always define us, yet they help to teach us and allow us to grow.

My motto for myself is: Always Believe You Can. I would like my children to listen to this and learn from those words. It doesn't have to be their mantra, yet I hope it creates a fire within them as they grow. I want there to be pride in everything they do. I want my children to do something because they CAN!

There will continue to be several four letter words said in my house (just a premonition I have). "Can't", that is not one of them!




Thank You for Stopping by and reading! Please be sure to share!! You can find me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Have a Happy Day!