Grace he brought... but he didn't have to.

When the sun came up this morning, I was awake to see it… not because I’m an early riser, but because I had an 8am shift at work and still had lunches to make and a baby to take to her nannies before making it there. Some handle being a single parent with such grace, I however, no matter the quotes I read on pinterest am not that woman. I'll reunite with a curling iron in 15 years... Hello, ponytail and reapplication to yesterdays makeup.

It didn’t matter how exhausted I was, the morning continued on as usual undeterred by my lack of sleep. So, I did my best to keep up with it and surprisingly made it to work only about 15 mins late, record to the time before. And life went on.

I did my very best to keep everyone reasonably happy while trying to train new employees and manage the stress of broken down analyzers. I even left my house reasonably tidy and packed a somewhat healthy lunch, the day was running rather smoothly I was mind-5'ing myself… until evening… well, until about 3 o’clock.

The winds had picked up in the state of Washington and schools, business, and small clinics were closing early for the day. Before I had the chance to celebrate an early end to my work day, mother nature decided to take out the power-lines and boom, chaos commenced. A long story short, I sent everyone home and tackled the tasks set in place for "State of Emergency." My ears ringing from 3 hours of alarms, fighting back hurricane winds just to stand on my feet outside, no traffic lights and a city in pitch black. Fabulous.

So with one small child, a bag of McDonald's, and heat from the day still radiating the basement of my house, we picnicked in the dark and talked about our day. Mind you, she is two, so there was a lot of squeals, tickles and dancing--the nae nae if you must know. We used what battery was left on the laptop to watch "Frozen" and her sweet self drifted to sleep without a care. She adores the world and she adores me as her mother, no matter the storm; no matter the day.

As I laid beside my rosy cheeked angel, I got on the internet to catch up on the news. 3-5 days no power. Well, slight panic set in... No power, no hot water, no lights, no heat, nothing...just me and mine...Ha, cuz being a single parent wasn't enough of a challenge.

Morning came. House was now cold. Still no power. No shower. No food. Fridge and freezer soon to thaw with all the groceries just purchased the day before, of freakin course. As I lay there staring at my sleeping beauty I decided, for her, the day was going to be no different. We would smile, laugh, and play. I chose to be. I made myself be. I was damn well going to be happy for her sake, I had a little more left to give. I could do it. Now when we left the house I had my phone wedged between my chin and my chest, bags under my arm held there close to my body, my baby in the other cuz heaven forbid this one time she walk herself, and my foot became useful in opening and closing doors. I'm sure we looked like quite the sideshow to those watching. But friends, I did it...we did it. Evening rolled around like it always does and my number one fan fell asleep with that same sparkle that lights my life. Mother success.

I got up as it was now my turn to get ready for bed, but first let me light a fire so we stay warm, let me clean up the messy house with all my attempts to keep her busy without power, let me take the dog out (no longer can I just put him outside as a large tree took out my back fence) and then maybe, maybe I'll get to bed before 1am just to wake up every hour to put another log on. Looking across the street to those with power made me angry. I look exhausted and unshowered, I forgot to put shoes on my baby with all the extras I need now remember, we are stumbling store to store to find ice throughout the day cuz everywhere is sold out, while your sittin over there with your Christmas tree glowing. Ummm, douche bag!!! What would Jesus do, Cortney, WWJD!!!

Next morning quite like the last, just colder, still all my prayers for power unanswered. I made more of an effort to rush our morning routine so there was less time in the cold house. I was frantic. The nearly-tears, doing so much but getting nothing done, if you so look at me cross-eyed it was as if I just lost the grounders game on the playground in grade 5, yes... that was the me coming to you live that Thursday morning. That was, until...I saw him. He didn’t offer any advice or any commentary. He just walked up to my door handed me a container and said, “Pancakes for you and baby.”

I told my child to look the nice man in the eye and tell him thank you, and then I made sure to the do the same.

But the truth is, I wanted to cry, but not for the same reason as 5 minutes ago, but because kindness isn’t as common as it used to be.

There have been plenty of times when I have been out with my child, and desperate for two extra hands. When I have been in line at the grocery store checkout with a screaming baby and a cart full of items knowing that people see me, wondering if they really… see me or if they are judging the person they think they see…"It’s her fault for having a kid so young.” "Wonder where the babies dad is?" “Why couldn’t she come without her kid?” “Who brings their kid out on a cold day without shoes, is her hair even brushed?” “She doesn’t look like she can manage any part of her life. I bet she’s always this much of a disaster.” ....thinking if only someone could help me and holding back my own tears.

This guy could have kept going about his morning. He could have ignored the fact that his neighbor had no power with a small child and no one would of batted an eye.

But he didn’t.

He just smiled, and took the extra 15 minutes to cook a extra couple pancakes to bring over to 25 year old who desperately needed a reminder of love and grace.

We still have no power, but the feeling around my house isn't near as cold. I teach my child kindness by demonstrating it. I live it out. But it is so much more than that. Simply taking the time to embrace the kindness around us. Letting grace lead our day. My nug and I have been blessed with friends providing us food, shelter, showers and welcoming us into their routines to stay warm and comfortable. I'm making a point to show my daughter the kind acts done to her in her little life in hopes she will see the light in a dark place. Somewhere that I am weak, her and I can notice and grow together. “There. That is what we should do. That is the type of person we want to be. That is what matters in this world. Baby, that is what kindness in action looks like.” I was so caught up in how bad my situation sucked, I didn't see the blessings that were right in front of me. So in a season of thankfulness… in a world that seems to grow darker by the day, quite literally (haha)… I just wanted to stop and shine light on one simple moment. Today, I want to say thank you to a neighbor for making the choice and for giving me another chance to teach my child that there is always kindness… if we just take the time to notice the grace in all our unaswered prayers.

Beautiful Little Bride...

Sweet 19 year old bride with love in your eyes…What a beautiful wedding day! It really couldn’t have been better. From the temple, to church, to dinner and reception it couldn't have been more wonderful. That dress, his tux, you both looked stunning. You can’t imagine what the next 5 years will hold but you are ready to conquer the world without time to question what you are getting yourself into. You are just a baby yourself and have no idea what it means to be an adult let alone a wife... but with that handsome young man by your side officially yours forever and eternity... well, you just wait.

Beautiful little bride with life in your eyes, explore and connect as much as you can on your honeymoon! Five years from now you won’t care about the rash from the water-slides or the sore throat from nearly drowning in the wave pool, because when you have a nearly two year old toddler wrapped around your legs at all times, you will long for a day of exotic exploration and even a nap, so soak it all up!

In that first six months, you will stand with all you can for “rightness.” Don’t bother. To this day if that sweet boy standing next to you says the sky is purple, there is nothing you will be able to do to convince him that it is blue. Practice with me my dear, “Yes, what a lovely purple sky we are having today, my darling.” Let him paint the sky the way he wants and support him, right or wrong.

Pay the electric bill. He isn’t paying any bills because he thought you were… And you obviously weren’t either. It’s okay. It will last only one month. No power means no lights. Early bedtimes aren't always a bad thing. Make the most of it. Make him believe in you. Through thick and thin stand by his side. You wont be poor forever.

Oh sweet little wife with hurt in your eyes, you just wait…Try to remember that he isn’t perfect and that neither are you. You will quickly learn how to hurt each other effectively. Do not use your words as weapons. There will be no greater regret, and you will never be able to “unsay” it. Take the time to find each other and know what's in their heart. Hope will rise in your soul and joy will return to your heart. Don't fret. You will not lose your faith. There is nothing in the world you two can’t handle together. Forgiveness will be your greatest weapon against grief. Slow down. Enjoy married life. Take short trips. Explore. Enjoy each other’s company because a sweet lil angel baby is going to surprise you both.

Sweet little student wife with stress in your eyes, it will get easier. School is just one stepping stone, just one. Soon you will graduate and so will he, both with honors, celebrate. You will start to make money and all that stress and hard work, it'll pay off, just you wait, it IS worth it. Oh and all those luxuries you wanted and trips you day dreamed about- the ones all your friends had and were taking. Five years from now when they are still paying for it, you will be paying cash for that same thing 5x over again with all the interest you saved. Good job!

Sweet little momma with love in your eyes, life will never be the same. Your priorities will all change. Your attention will be on the baby. Put the baby in the crib every now and then and look at your husband, he's exhausted too, but he always saves a little love for you. Embrace the new love you discover in him. You will love him more for the way he loves your baby. Just you wait, your heart wont know how to handle all this new love, this deep never-ending love.

Sweet little Grad-School wife with hope in your eyes, there is light at the end of the tunnel. You will move across states for him to pursue his dreams. You will buy your first house and want to remodel and make it yours. Your husband will be right about just about everything when it comes to the remodeling process. Save your breath at Home-Depot. Unless of course you enjoy eating crow.

Sweet little bride, that man will put your wants above his own for years. Notice it. Love him fully, and tell him how much you appreciate him every day. He loves you so much even if he isn’t very good at “saying how he feels.” Five years from now you will realize that he has shown you with hard work and dedication just how much he adores you. Listen to his heart. Take the time to understand him. Don't let him get lost with life. He needs you just as much as you need him. Embrace working together. Celebrate success. Have common goals. Support him, he already supports you. Pray together and dream big. "Hardships prepare the most ordinary people for an extraordinary future."

Oh sweet little bride, there is so much more that I wish that I could tell you. There is so much that you couldn’t ever foresee, but 5 years from now you will love that boy more than you do on this day. You will grow up together and make the journey into adulthood holding each other’s hands. You will change almost completely from the people you are today, but, the Lord will grow you together. He will keep you together. There will be moments when you want to call it quits, when you don't even recognize the man standing across from you. You will wonder why you said, "yes" so young and question how the hell you got "here." You will cry and want to give up. You will wonder if your marriage is going to fail, and then... it won't. He will hug you and remind you of God's promises for your lives together. You will find peace in him arms. After all those fights he is still your heaven on earth.

Sweet little momma wife, God knew exactly what he was doing when he gave you that precious boy standing next to you. Trust God. Love your husband. Enjoy every minute of the journey… because 5 years from now, you will love him more than you ever thought you could and you will wonder how those 5 years could have possibly passed so quickly. Oh sweet little bride you just wait.... Your dreams have only just began....

Happy Mother's Day...

The coo's, the laughs, the gibberish, it all makes perfect sense to me now. The sweet little angel that gave me the title "Momma" that short 19 months ago may not be able to structure a perfect sentence, but I understand her. I know, "who-who" means Soother. I know, "yawket" means chocolate. I know, "ew shew" means shoe-shoe. I know that, "bah bah" means bottle. I know, "awe tucks" means awe schucks, and I know that, "I wub bew" means I love you and behind that “I love you” there is so much promise and such a deep unfathomable significance in her little heart that she can’t yet express to me. 

Nobody ever told me how hard and exhausting motherhood was. How much sleep I would lose, how much worry I would feel, how I would second guess my every decision, how every night I would fight the same battle and make promises to try harder, to love more, and have more patients. Yes, sweet mother, I see you and all you have done for me. I know you. I have become just like you.

I know I made you cry... a lot! You cried when you found out you were pregnant with me, but you fought for me. You cried when you were so brutally sick throughout your entire pregnancy, tears as to whether your body would be okay for me, you cared and loved me before anyone else had the chance to, before you cared even for yourself and your health. You cried when you first held me and in that moment you found pure happiness. You cried with fear as I grew. You cried with worry when I fell, there was no sound as sad as my cries or sight as horrible as tears streaming down my face. I know you did everything in your power to stop me from crying and to protect me, but when you couldn't, I know it hurt you more than it could have ever hurt me. When my heart broke, yours shattered. Your heart felt more for me than my own heart even knew existed. You felt my pain and my happiness and you shared it with me…you still do.

I know you wanted the last piece of cheesecake, but like me, as soon as those big blue eyes locked with yours and reached for the dessert, you couldn't eat it either, you wouldn’t dream of it. I know you felt happier knowing my little tummy was filled over your own. You put me first, you always put me first. You would go without food, sleep, showers, and exercise to make sure my needs were met. You babysat other kids, let them destroy your house, just to be home with me. I know at the end of the day you had no energy left for yourself, but time and time again you would wake up the next morning and do it all over again. Why? Because I meant that much to you, it was never even a question.

I know that I hurt you. I bruised your ribs when I kicked you from inside your tummy. I stretched your stomach out for nine months and made your body contract in agonizing pain all night long before I entered this world, I know it hurt. It hurt when I pulled your hair and pinched your neck and cheeks; when I scratched you with my fingernails that you tried to bite the last 5 days in a row, and as time passed and I grew older the thought of it going by too fast, hurt you too.

I know you were always afraid. From the moment I was conceived, you did all you could in your power to protect me. You were that mom who wanted to say no when people asked to hold me, and you cringed when they did, because in your mind no one could keep me as safe as your arms could. Your heart skipped beats when I took my first steps. You waited up night after night making sure I got home safe and still woke up early every morning singing, "good morning, good morning....Rise and shine..." with a smile of exhaustion that I never recognized until now. With every stubbed toe or knee scrap you were close by. You were there to kiss it better, chase away the monsters, hug away the bad dreams, hold my hair back when I was sick, you were always there, so mom, I was always okay.

I know you watched me sleep. There were nights when you were up until 3a.m. praying that I would fall asleep. You could hardly keep your eyes open as you sang to me, but you sang anyways. I know that as soon as I drifted to sleep you would stare into my crib looking down at me and in those moments you experienced more love than you knew possible and somehow you forgot about your worn-out arms and aching eyes.

I know you carried me way longer than 9 months of pregnancy. I needed you to, so you did. You learned to hold me while you cleaned. You learned to hold me while you ate. You learned to sleep in cracks with no blankets to ensure my 25 inch self had enough bed and blankets. I know your arms got tired, I know your back hurt, but you still held me, you never left me. You snuggled me, you loved me, you kissed me and played with me. I felt safe in your arms. I was happy in your arms. I knew love in your arms. So as annoyed and tired as I know you were, I thank you for holding me as long as I needed you to.

I know you think you are not perfect. I know you are your own worst critic. You see all your flaws and hate yourself for them. You are the hardest on yourself when it comes to you. I know you wanted to be the perfect mom, to do nothing wrong, and in my eyes you were all that and more. I know you are still trying to forgive yourself for the mistakes you thought you made. I know you wish there are things you could do differently if you could just go back in time, but you can’t so be kind to yourself mom, you did the best you knew how to do, and your best was more than enough. Being a mom is one of the hardest jobs anyone can do. I know I tested you to your very limits sometimes. I know you cried, you hurt, you tried, you failed, and you learned, but I also know you experienced more joy than you ever knew possible and you have felt more love than your heart knew how to contain. I know you would do it all again no questions asked because as much as I wanted you, you chose me, mom, you CHOSE me. I know that I am worth it to you and I know how much you love me because I have found this love myself. Becoming a mother has stretched my patients to wits end. I have learned to balance this new form of love, one that is so unfamiliar, fragile, and rare. I have found inner strength and succeeded in ways I once failed. I have learned to stop trying to make happy, happier, because doing nothing is often doing everything. Finding beauty and peace in chaos and love in the simple things. Because after all no matter what, “as long as you’re living your baby I’ll be.”

Happy Mother's day Momma, you are the real hero and I love you. xox

Little Yellow Tank Top

Little yellow tank top that is folded nicely in my drawer. The one I have worn once, nearly brand new, that “perfect gift” from my husband. Tight and curve fitting, yellow and flashy, a perfect size zero. The last thing I want to do is wear you to the gym, trying to be sexy and slim, reality… confused with large school bus!

Reminiscence with me: my daughter is now 19 months old and I no longer can use the phrase, “I just had a baby” to make light of my bodies insecurities. I go to the gym at least 5 times a week and have for the last 7 months. I see subtle changes in myself, but nothing I would call Guinness about. My husband, knowing my determination and hearing my complaints, always thinks of me on his trips to the store. More times than not he will return with a sports bra, water bottle, or something just for me because he was thinking of me, really though, he is the perfect man. This same perfect man is also the culprit responsible for little yellow tank top. He missed the memo in, “yes, you can buy me a tank top so long as it’s not yellow, not little, not tight… baggy tee will do.”

I did not feel like picturing my body in anything that showed it off. It took me weeks before I even tried it on for the first time and even then I still had a 15 minute pep talk to myself before being burned by my reflection. Mirror, one; me, zero. While the scale tells me a number pretty close to what I was before my baby, my mirror hasn’t gotten the memo. The mirror still shows me a body that Hollywood would frown upon. I have grown and shrunk and stretched and lost and gained and dropped and… well, had a baby.

I’m a momma now.

Yes, I would have been much more comfortable in pants and a long flowy shirt and there would have been nothing wrong with that. There is never anything wrong with putting on what makes me feel good and wearing it proudly no matter my shape or size at the time. So, as much as I wanted to tell my husband, “Look, buddy, that’s not happening, so just forget about it, I’m not wearing that shirt to the gym with you.”

I stopped and I listened to his heart for a minute.

See, while it’s so easy for me to see all of the things that have changed, and all the areas that I need to “fix” that sweet husband of mine apparently doesn’t see things the way that I do when he looks at me. He has this crazy way of still seeing me… His wife. He still sees the woman that he fell in love with, and apparently, he is still attracted to her – baggy t-shirts and extra baby fluff. He knows that my role has changed, but when he looks at me I’m still Cor, not mommy. He sees the woman he fell in love with, the woman who said, “Yes” to becoming his wife. I don’t think he knows how to tell me, “Hey, remember when you were just mine?” And honestly? It feels so hard to remember how to be his. Half the time I don’t even remember how to be me. Putting myself last over and over again and being reminded by the mirror how different I am… sometimes, I don’t even know where to start.

So as I stared at myself in the mirror one last glance, I decided for today I would make that choice to be his. Wear what he picked because after all he picked me too. Because while I could have pushed my husband away and left him always wondering but never asking about that dang little yellow tank top, I chose to remember him, to wear it for him. And just as I chose that, I chose to remember a woman worth caring about, who has a husband that loves her and who is a person beyond being a Momma. I chose to remember that I am worth my own attention. And I chose to remember that if my husband thinks I’m attractive, then I am. I am not my competition. And sometimes showing him and reminding myself means wearing that little-yellow-really tight-tank-top, plus…the mirror said I looked more like a taxi van over a school bus anyways. #winning

Only gym pic I have. God forbid that lil yellow tank top! :-)

...Just Dance!!!

It was Thursday just after lunch… I was busy cleaning the chicken nuggets and veggie straws off the table and highchair. My dishwasher was full of clean dishes that needed to be put away and my sink was full of dirty dishes that needed some serious attention. Egg-whites dried to the counter tops, bread crumbs from bagels, dried grated cheese stuck to the counter keeping company with bills that needed sorting and a dozen odds and ends that don’t seem to ever find a proper home.

My attached living room was equally chaotic. There’s a couch somewhere under all that laundry from the last trip to Canada, shoes, jackets and socks littered the living room floor, pages from books ripped out from the seam, and a million DVD’s scattered about trying to find Elmo. The disarray was finally accessorized by toddler toys everywhere and a spilled boxed of Q-tips from this morning’s learning game.

My silent prayer: “Dear God, do not let my doorbell ring right now.” …Because, Lord help me, I would have to lie. I would be that awkward woman with only my head peeping out the door, trying to hold a barking dog back and a baby fighting to go “yowe-yide” …I would have to continue to make up some crazy excuse for why my house looked the way it did. I can only be “in the middle of a deep cleaning project” or “organizing the toy baskets” so often before people realize that maybe my house always looks like this. I swear the UPS guy, or visiting teachers, or neighbors bringing cookies only ever happens on days like today. Days when the baby is screaming and crying because she fell in the backyard tears marking her dirt smeared face and clothes covered in chalk. Don’t even get me started on my attire. I look like a comic strip character, not superwoman or catwoman, but like more ogre-ish with sticky popsicle sticks stuck to my backside. Seriously, I'm racking my brain and checking appts on my phone, “is there any reason I should be expecting company, because with the house like this… there is definitely someone on their way.”

My daughter wants a yawkit (chocolate, a girl after my own heart). I grab the big ol’ bag of M&M’s from the cupboard. I buy the biggest bags I can get at Costco or Walmart (thank you Easter) and refill little containers for her and for her diaper bag, saving grace friends, saving grace! She is on her tippy toes impatiently reaching for the bag as I turn to grab a little container to pour some into. What’s one second? I give her the bag to stop the whining and reach for said container. MISTAKE! Stop, never hand a one year old a large OPEN bag of M&M’s. Taste the fricken rainbow; floor, counters, and carpet!!! Visible floor space has quickly vanished and my anxiety level is through the roof. No end in sight. Tears.

Also, we need to be clear about something right now… My Pinterest boards say I’m the cleanest, most organized, best cooking, good lookin’ momma around which is all around like, not true at all. Jesus would have some serious transformations if I were to be my computer self. Anyways, long story short, I like a clean house but mix a busy toddler with my top-knot and my house quickly becomes a hurricane until nap time. Untidy does not stress me out. Mess does. This mess… DOES!

Top it all off, my sweet girl wants me to play and I am “one more second’ing,” her… Great, add that stress and guilt to my weepy self. It’s a good day.

So, I do what I always do when I am overwhelmed. I plug in my iPhone and play music through the blue tooth speaker. As I turn round and round trying to gather up spilled chocolate, I am face to face with my sweet one year old holding my hat in the air wearing my shoes. “momma…” I throw away the handful of M&M’s and bend down to put my hat on her little head. A closed mouth kiss, cuz she is a big girl now, and into the living room she goes squishing so much chocolate on her way it made me cringe... but if it wasn’t for the fear of melted squished chocolate I probably would of continued cleaning, not followed her, and I would of missed seeing something remarkable… something I needed to see.

She walked into the middle of our messy living room and began to dance. Her arms above her head she sways and spins, oblivious to the junk all around her. She danced without a care in the world and I just stood there unable to move watching her; my heart overwhelmed.

She didn't care that the kitchen floors were covered in chocolate. She didn't need all the clothes put away first… She just danced. And right before my eyes I witnessed a perfect picture. A picture of what God wants for us. He doesn't want us to get everything in order before we find joy. Everything doesn't need a proper place before we praise Him. He wants us, but he also wants our mess. He wants us to invite Him right into the middle of it. He knows we are not perfect, that days are hard, sometimes unbearable, and we make mistakes. He knows!!! Our joy shouldn't come from the state of a perfect circumstance. Our joy should be full and come from our hearts. So here I am, in the corner of my kitchen peeking around witnessing a perfect picture of a Christian life. It really is what you read. “Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” Finding out those ways to learn to dance through chaos with grace and love.

Because this is life… and I can promise you something… there will always be more of it.

On this day, I took a hint from my precious one year old baby girl. Motherhood isn't my job. It is my joy. It is not my obligation, but my own opportunity. And at that moment I didn't wait until the laundry was folded or the toys were picked up… I just scooped her up and… in the middle of all her dolls… with a million other things to do, together we danced. We danced like everyone in the world could see us and she allowed me to shine as she does. In that hour with tears on my cheeks and joy in my heart, we invited God into our day. Right smack in the middle of it… and the best part is… he didn't even require me to clean up before he came over!

       

"Yes" Baby!

Our trip to the gym began like every other. My “Yes baby” was all smiles and giggles with her little feet hanging over her car seat buckled in tight. “Do you want to go play with your friends, Nug?” “Yesth.” “Are you excited to see Aaron?” “Yesth.” “Are you happy today?” “Yesth.” “Do you love momma?” “Yesth.” “Are you a stinker?” “Yesth.” “He-He yes, yes, you are, momma tricked you!!”

“You have such a beautiful daughter,” a soft voice whispered over the chaos of changing a poopy diaper in the women’s locker room. Huh? I looked up from the bum I just cleaned to find the kind eyes of a sweet old lady smiling at me. I buttoned the snap on her blue jeans and looked up at my daughter. It was near evening time and her clothes had an embarrassing amount of food stained to them, she had picked her socks for the day and insisted they not match (this new “me-do” freedom is a whole new story), along with a lovely design of chocolate face and dried boogers. This elderly lady looked right past all of it and said, “She is so lovely dear, it goes so fast you know.”

I could see it in her eyes that she was thinking back before the days of likely grown grandchildren. It was as though she took my hand through her own fairytale 50+ years ago. I swear I could almost see her children’s images myself. “Enjoy every minute, they grow up so fast” she prompted as Boo waved goodbye.

Before I became a momma, while my sweet baby girl was just a beat in my heart, “everyone” always said it will go so fast once the time comes. I have heard this same phrase plenty of times since then, but as we walked to the car, baby in arms, this elderly lady’s words lingered with me longer and a little plague hung from my heart, “they grow up so fast.”

I knew exactly what “everyone” had been talking about. Where had the time gone? It felt like just yesterday she was swaddled up tight with that precious new baby smell and now here we are 18 months later. Truth is I have been there for every milestone, all of it, having the blessing of being a 95% stay at home mom with the privilege of watching her grow up day to day. But with this privilege, I have found if I am not careful, there is a special kind of guilt that creeps into my heart. It is simply being home with my baby every step of the way, but not actually being present every step of the way…. Having to tell your one year old that you are too busy right now cleaning/cooking/paying bills and that you just don’t have time to play. Should I stop to play for what seems like a moment and bypass the guilt of saying, “no?” Surely those few moment would end in hours of playtime and memories and replace all the days’ productivity of folded clothes in laundry baskets and a kitchen lingering with the scent of pinesol.

Trust me. I can imagine few things that bring me more shame than avoiding my own baby girl, like avoiding the lady selling hand cream at the mall kiosk.

Oh no, I accidently made eye contact while putting the dishes away. Please baby, please don’t come grab momma’s hand to go “yowe-yide” I still have so much work to do.

At times like these, I wish being a stay at home momma was just as all the lazy-sit on your butts- preconceived notions suggest it is, but honestly… celebrating every triumph and crying over scraped knees with her also comes the fear of watching her childhood flash right before my eyes. The horror that I may miss something crucial. That 50 years from now I will be the little old lady warning other young momma’s to “enjoy every minute” while wishing I could do it all over again. I make up for long busy days with ice cream before bedtime and extra-long snuggles with “one more story” 18 times later. As she drifts to sleep I promise myself tomorrow will be different, that I will get it right and make time for “yowe yide” and playing babies. I will be silly and carefree and let the dishes pile up and the laundry stay undone… and then tomorrow comes and I start all over again. But you know what?

If you were to ask my daughter if I am a good momma she would say, “yesth.” If you were to ask her if she is happy, she would again say, “yesth.” And if you were to ask my most precious little girl if she loves her momma I am 100% certain she would say, “yesth!”

That little girl knows I love her. She thinks I am the greatest thing since the last slice of cheese she ate. To her I am the world. Because even in the chaos of the day there was that one special snack, or that one special laugh, or that last push on the swing “yowe-yide,” or just the conversation of what’s on her heart even though her vocabulary doesn’t permit I understand. One day she will wish I wasn’t so hard on myself. She will remember me being silly and fun, but she will also remember me on my hands and knees washing floors. She will recognize the smell of pinesol and it will remind her of home, she will remember having a clean kitchen and counting the wrinkles in my hands from all the soapy water. She will remember the smell of my shirt from the times we snuggle before bed. She will know responsibility. While most hours of the day I’m a frazzled mess always playing referee and keeping glass bottles from shattering, I thank god every day for my little “Yesth” baby. She is that constant reassurance in my life, positive thoughts and believing in myself sink so much deeper into my heart effecting who I am more than I could have ever realized on my own, she is grace. No there is nothing I can do to keep it from going by so fast, but one thing is for certain, she will always remember that I was there every step of the way with her.  She will remember what real life is made of and she will make a good momma one day… a momma just like me… and guess who taught me???

          

When Skies are Grey...

He grabs his gym bag, his backpack, lunch and a few other necessities - and he's off - for the day. "Love you," she whispers from her light sleep, "have a good day."

If it's not a day at her job, she's starts making breakfast for the little one. Eggs and squished bananas make up the floor decor for the first time that day and mashed potatoes end that same day. Babies asleep, she rinses the last few dishes, wipes down the counters, final rounds of locking doors and turning off unnecessary lights, the lights that cause your utility bills to sky rocket. She picks up a few toys that could be a tripping hazard and moves the abandoned shoes to the closet. She grabs a glass of water and takes her vitamins and thinks to herself, "Another day gone."

Another day where she only got to speak briefly to her husband on the phone or over a meal that was mostly spent feeding a cute little monster. Another day where the duties of mommy and daddy had them in the same house, but kept them feeling completely isolated.

On days like these, which is nearly every day, she misses her husband.

She misses the normal uninterrupted adult conversations. The quick trips for ice cream after supper and movies that don't revolve around that damn red monster singing and dancing. She misses the smiles that turn into laughs, and the lingering smell of his cologne left after long hugs.

Gosh, there are days she just misses him; them.

Sometimes she looks back at the younger version of herself those 7 years ago and thinks of all the things she wishes she could have said. She would have told that crazy in love girl to enjoy every second with him and never take it for granted. She would have told her newly engaged self not to worry so much on the details, all she will remember is him anyways, the rest will become a burr. She would tell her newly married self to get advice on budgeting and not be so full of pride to ask for help, and she would tell more recent new-mommy-self to chill out and get off Google, its normal for baby's to blink.

That same girl sometimes wishes she could jump ahead 10, 20, 30 years to the older version of herself. What would her future self tell the momma pulled in a million directions- caught up in taking care of what is necessary while feeling like she is missing everything that really matters, self?

Maybe, just maybe, she would say something like this...

There won’t ever be enough time, let that be okay. There will be so many more times when the demands are constant and your energy runs out and you will question if your letting everyone down and you will try and find ways to be better and fail. She would say that sweet man of yours knows you put every ounce of yourself into your child, the house, the bills, and all those responsibilities. He knows that you rarely get a break or ever stop worrying, caring, or planning. He knows when he returns home at the end of the day that you will be exhausted, but his hope will remain the same day after day and he will pray that you save a little love for him. She will say never to pour all of yourself out that there is nothing left at the end of the day to give that sweet boy, to never forget the love that was so abundant in the beginning, and to remember the boy who became your best friend. She would say never forget the meaning of forever and always. It doesn't have to be perfect for it to be special. It doesn't have to be ideal for it to be great. You will change so much every day, both of you will, but the lord will grow you together, he will keep you together. Yes, there will be moments when you do not recognize the person across the kitchen table from you. You will wonder how the heck you got "here." You will question whether or not you will make it... and then, you will. Dream together. Hope together. Reach goals together. Remind each other of God's promises for your lives. Reach for them. Succeed together.  Sweet girl with hurt in your eyes, start enjoying the ordinary chaotic days sewn together by grace. Let grace make those moments beautiful. Trust in God. Love your husband. Enjoy every second of your journey because in 30 years when you are where I am you will love him more than you ever thought possible. You will love more than you do now, believe me. Sweet girl, just you wait... it will turn out better than your sweetest dreams.... just save a little love for him.

   

Vacation at Home Depot.

This year my adorably romantic hubby changed Valentine’s Day into a week of Love titled, “7 days of Valentine’s.” The week was full of little gifts of love, letters, flowers, shopping, a sushi class and dine, and breakfast in bed. He melts my heart.  

Let me take you back a day, Saturday night after a 13 hour shift at work, I came home to meet my husband in the kitchen. We talked and laughed like we always do as we put down on a tub of ice cream and a bag of chocolate chips. The whole thing, gone! My two favorites. He knew I would be tired after a long day of work so he kept the night simple and gave me my 6^th gift. It was a homemade coupon book. Fancy scissor cuts, two rings at the top holding it together, the man put his heart in it and I couldn't have been happier with the masterpiece. His coupons were not those of similar coupon books you find in the store or online, but ones he had thought out carefully, ones that he knew suited me specifically, his wife. I went from laughing hysterically at his detailed sexual coupons, to, my eyes burning with tears of love. This man knows me.

Coupon number 6 read, Vacation at Home Depot. These simple words made my excitement hardly containable. This vacation is when the house is spotless and everyone has full tummies, he bundles up the little love of my life and the two of them head to Home Depot. It’s fabulous. Everything on the lower shelves within the monsters reach are too heavy to pick up, so there is no disaster in the isles for him to constantly be cleaning up, and they are free to wander. What guy doesn't love a good trip to home depot, and what woman doesn't love time to herself to blare her music, dance around in her underwear, stare at the ceiling in peace and quite, drink milk from a wine glass, have a bubble bath, or brush the dirt off that romance novel started 6 months ago??

Those of you moms with children, children who demand every second of your time and of your heart, you already know that “mom breaks” are few and far between. Amiright??? Even during nap time it’s catch up on everything the morning made. If you claim you have time to catch up on the tabloids all while your house smells of incense in a remarkable state of cleanliness while your babies rest peacefully on down feathers, you’s a liar my friend… or a Kardashian. That’s not real life, but what I can tell you is this. Enjoy the stage where your children are, play with them, make memories and messes. Use the time they are asleep to watch them peacefully because they won’t always be little like that. Use the remainder of the time to clean up the mess their little hands made and do so happily with little giggles knowing very well when they wake it’ll start all over again. I can promise 10 years down the road when they are reflecting back on their childhood they are going to remember the forts in the living room and the mud pies made in the garden. They will see you, their mom, and they will know true love as I have.   

So, to the mom who would love a tropical getaway to experience that time to herself, but will settle for a vacation at home depot, I sooooo get it. It’s okay to need a break. We run around all day every day at someone else’s beckon, lucky if we find matching socks to wear, all because we decided to embrace the title of being a mom. And while we love spending time with and taking care of our kids, everyone benefits when momma takes some time for herself every now and then, even if it is just a night at home by yourself singing Celine Dion with that wine glass of milk, make it chocolate milk, I won’t tell if you don’t. 

Falling in Love...

Nearly 5 years ago I said, "yes" to the most adorable man in an airplane for two high above the rest of the world. I have always been a sucker for romance. The holding hands, the sweaty palms, the nervous kisses, the pins and needles from cuddling, the flowers, the dates, you name it... I love it all. My love for love all started at a young age when I decided my favorite kind of movie or book was ones that end in two people falling madly in love despite the world against them. I was a goner from then on. I craved the sickly sweet love, wrapped in rose petals of more love, dusted with all the magical moments of love that last forever. Every day together being just another day in paradise.

My friend, the unfortunate thing about love is... love is not like this at all. Unrealistic expectations. Stemming from watching, "Gone with the Wind" or Ryan Gosling in a boat surrounded by swans. Fake worlds, fake scenarios, airbrushed and edited magazines, or some authors version that sweeps your mind out of this world; this realistic, hard, challenging, world. Where in fact men cant read your mind, fights rarely end in a sexy, rosy cheeked, swollen lip, romp to the bedroom or making love by the fire while it is pouring rain. We crave literally something that does not last forever.

I met my husband through a mutual friend in a university dorm room. It was that simple. We were not high school sweet-hearts and I definitely was not in a beautiful dress where I lost my shoe at midnight. No!

Looking back, I remember thinking he was adorable. He was subtle and quiet with his cute comments, and I was outgoing enough for the both of us. To race forward through events of that first year I giggle now as he made quite an effort back then to match my enthusiasm, how my heart raced being around him, and how I landed smack dab, main character, of this romantic love story. Exactly where I wanted to be. Falling in love with him was biblical. My mind was trapped in a sea of rose petals, white doves, and carriages for two. We were that madly in love couple that ended in a beautiful wedding despite the world.

From the moment after, "I-do's" it was a race down hill. I'm not talking about a few steps down either... I'm talking about racing down a snow covered hill on your sled, kinda downhill. I can still remember how worried I was when I started to notice that I didn't get the same feelings from my husband as when we first met. I began to crave and search for those feelings again. I read books and articles for ways to fall back in love and I came up short. Every.Single.Time!

No movie, fairy tale, or novel ever truly showed me that loving my husband forever had very little to do with how I felt when I fell in love with him. None of them ever had me believe I would lose those feeling that I once felt, that the boat rides and swans would disappear and be only a memory. I knew exactly what falling in love felt like, remember I was the main character in that love story. What I didn't know was, what it felt like to walk hand-in-hand in love forever.

In almost 5 years of ups and downs I can finally tell you this. I know what walking in love feels like. It feels like a choice that we have to make every single day. It is a night off of dishes because the other beat you to it. It's a casual dinner at home that rarely is lit by candles. It's a chocolate bar at the grocery store because it's his favorite. It's letting him pick the movie when you want to watch yours. It's simple being together and sometimes not even saying a word. It's takes effort, endurance, and lots of compromise. It takes being able to forgive past offenses and future hurts. It's choosing grace over and over again. It's supporting and rediscovering each other. It's selfless and patient. It's safe.

I was so afraid that I didn't love my husband as much as I did when we were dating, until I realized this, love isn't measured by those kind of feelings. Love is being committed to how far you will go together. I love my husband more today than I ever have. We have walked miles hand in hand that can testify of our love; each step apart of our story.

Falling in love is the easy part and it's just that... "a part" of love. Walking in love is what brings the greatest joy. To those of you who have been married longer than you have been single and to those of you who are taking your last steps you will ever take together, I'm honored by your love and by the way you CHOSE to write your love story.

One Last Time

I loved you when you were just a thought. I loved you when you became an idea. I loved you before I knew of you. I loved you when I found out about you. I loved you when I first felt you. I loved you when the pain was nearly unbearable. I loved you forever the moment I laid eyes on you. I loved you so dearly I wept tears of joy the first time you were ever in my arms. I never wanted to show weakness or allow you to see my imperfections. To you, I would be super-mom. You were perfect. Everything about you, perfect! You came into this world so innocent needing me for everything, trusting in me, believing in me... in us. You were completely helpless and there were days I didn't know if we were going to make it through, I questioned if I would ever get a handle on being your mom, and we would cry together.

Now I cry because I have seen endings in our relationship. I hi-5'd your dad the first time you slept through the night only to find myself sleepless the following night, hoping for your cries, praying you still needed me. You never did and now those nights when you need me rarely happen. I fear the day you wont want to sit on my lap and read, "muddy puppy or fuzzy chick" anymore, or when the day comes when showing me where your eyes are is no longer what makes you smile. I will give you your blanky after a long day and watch you smell it for comfort as you drift to sleep only to realize you will never reach for that blanky again. I don't want you to ever stop wanting "up," or to stop reaching for my hands on your tip-toes. I want you to wrap your tiny fingers around mine forever and never let go. I never want you to be too big for kisses or too busy to say "luh whouuu." But like the others, these times will sneak up on me too. What is so devastating is in the rush of it all I wont even realize it was the last time until it is too late and I have nothing to hold onto but the faint memory. So many people, including your daddy, will never understand the tears I shed over no longer nursing you. Why I have had such a hard time letting you no longer need that part in our relationship. I will miss our bond. I will miss being the only person in this world to comfort you. I will miss our snuggles and your hands clenching my shirt like they do; to no longer get the feeling that nothing else matters, it's just you and me. So many firsts still to come on this journey we are taking together, but I would be lying if I said I didn't miss and yearn for what you no longer need me for, for that one last time!

I secretly beg you not to grow up too fast. For my sake, don't wish away the days of being my baby because I need those precious moments with you. You are my baby and you will always be my baby. Being your mommy is my greatest honor.

Embrace The Old You.

I hope everyone had a Christmas full of family, friends, laughing, love and maybe a little Santa Clause too! Ours was one of my favorite yet; seeing, learning, and loving through the eyes of a one year old is such a rewarding honor us as parents are given.

With New Years Day just around the corner and the clock running out of time until midnight so many of us, including myself, are guilty of looking through different Instagram pages: ones of fitness and healthy eating, ones of organizations, or recipes, or fashion. We have laid in bed nights previous giving thought to different ideas or even found ourselves thinking, "How can I be more like her/him." Pinterest has so many great plans for me in this New Year. 2015 is going to be my year, a year of change.

7:48 pm New Years Eve I uploaded a picture of my family to my Instagram account with a short summary of our past year. During this, I was given much hassle about the time I was spending on my phone instead of helping prepare for the nights events. Maybe my timing was not right, maybe I should have been more available to help and prepare, but is that not the story of our lives? There is never the right time, if there is ever time at all and given a replay I would do it all over again and here is why.

I sometimes get lost in the music of it all. I get so busy with lists and goals, trying to be more like this and like that, and thinking that if I buy what she has I will be more fulfilled. Stop-when I just stop, I realize that other peoples talents and accomplishments are not an indication of my own shortcomings; I then allow my heart to celebrate my own abilities, who I have become, and all that I have been blessed with. New Years is an excuse I used for 24 years. I clung to 12:01 as a new start; a fresh beginning. What I failed to do was high-5 myself for everything that lead me to that point. Just like there is a bonus at a job, or a award at a ceremony there should be recognition for what makes me, me and what makes you, you. So without further ado, drum roll please... 2014's admirable mentions:

To mommas who do it alone. Your strength makes you powerful. You handle the job that two parents still struggle with, and you handle it alone with dignity and courage. You are the security and the knot that holds your family together. What you do does not go unseen. Your heart is heard. There is a reason you were given this life. You are a hero. We honor you.

To the daddys who do it alone. You handle princesses and tiaras as well as you handle dirt and monster trucks. You provide. You may not have dreamed this dream for yourself yet you would never take back those miracles that call you daddy. You handle your little hearts with love and tenderness. You are an inspiration to all of us.

To the teenage mom. You are young and you are scared yet no one would ever know. Your strength shines through you. Your child has become your best-friend. You have grown up and taken on the difficulties of an adult. You will make it. We are cheering for you.

To mommas everywhere. For all the time spent running errands, all the to-do lists, and still managing to "do it all" at home is worth an award itself. The mere fact that you get up and take care of little hearts every.single.day instead of crying in a bed of unfolded laundry is commendable. You give that bite of dessert that you saved for last because it's the best part to your child because they want it and you laugh when they spit it out. Turns out they only wanted what mommy had. You give and give and give until you have nothing because you love them. You know it, I know it, and they know it. There is nothing that can compare to a mother’s love.

To the momma with the big purse. You knew there would come a time your child would need that one item. Yes you may have carried it the last twenty trips but on trip number 21 when there was nothing else but that item they wanted, you had it, you were right! Cheers to always being prepared and hauling that duffle bag sized purse around. P.s. your arms look fab.

To the late dad. You work, you provide, and you give all you have for your family. Your presence reminds those little hearts that look up to you that they are the most important in your life. It may be only for a few seconds, but seeing you brings out their smile. You may not make it every time, but the times you do are the times that count the most. They will remember them. For all those times...daddy was there.

To every person, parent, daughter, son, on every continent in every world. Keep doing what you are doing. You are phenomenal. Remember what journey you had to take to get to where you are. Don't focus so much on a new beginning and forget all the footsteps you left getting to where you are now. You will find so much more contentment when you take pride in yourself and not in trying to be someone else. Be the best you. Work towards the best you. Acknowledge yourself. You are worthy of it all. You write your story. Your life is your message so brag a little about your accomplishments. Show off your family. Be proud of who you are and post that damn picture on Instagram.

Happy New Year, friends.