Mondays are like wet socks
She flopped on the bed and laid still for just a moment. She pulled one leg under the other and stared up at the ceiling.
“Thank goodness today is over,” she mumbled under her breath as she rolled over to grab her journal and pen out of the nightstand drawer. Before she knew it, she was scrabbling desperately on the page.
Ha! How lame does that sound? Like I’m some teenager from the 80’s writing love notes in a book. No. We aren’t going to be doing that in this book. I guess I shouldn’t start each entry with that moving forward.
Anyway… Tonight I feel like I’m bottling. Everyone always says ‘I always hold everything in for so long until I break!’ and I don’t want to break, so I just need to get this shit out. I can’t breathe because I have so much anxiety taunting me inside of my head. I wanna be the person that uses their art for decompression. So here are these words.
Being written in order to sooth a soul that currently sits unsettled.
How can you claim to love someone if you continue to relapse back to the thing that tore you apart?
How aren’t we enough to make you stop?
I try to understand. I try to be empathetic to the fact that not everyone is raised with all of the advantages that I was. I try to sympathize with what has been overcome. But sometimes
It’s just not enough.
Your claims get countered every time you relapse. I lose trust in you every time I hear the latest stunt you’ve pulled. I hear. It makes me sick. It makes me angry. It makes me lose hope.
You have no idea the impacts of your actions, even to this day.
I was once a child distraught with heartache and resentment and misunderstanding. But now I’m an adult with disdain, apprehension, but most importantly, disappointment.
I can’t trust you.
It’s been seventeen years.
And you still don’t have your shit together.
And I’m just supposed to believe you’re telling me the truth?
Like I said, I was once that child. But I’m not that child anymore.
It’s so weird to think
that just a few months ago
this beautiful plant
was just a tiny seed.
It was hiding dormant
in a shell,
but then it emerged
and now it lives.
for the sun.
Reacting to stress and
What was once a seedling,
is now just trying to live.
I relate to the cycle.
Life is flourishing
all around us.
Garden of the Gods, Shawnee National Forest, Illinois
A color that seems so odd
In the sky
Her smile lights up a room
Her wide smile pierces my soul every time
How can this perfect of a being
be standing right in front of me?
How lucky I am to be blessed
with such grace in the form of kin
She’s more than the barefoot child
running down the sidewalk,
wind blowing through her blonde curls
She’s the warmth you feel in your blood
as she wraps her arms around your neck
She’s the sun and the moon and the sea
and a mixture of everything that shines and glows
She’s the rain that cleanses
and the trees that dance in the breeze
How can I not sit and admire her?
She radiates purity and
embodies a free spirit
A true angel on earth
Shortened work weeks are vital
Some days I feel like I’m on cloud nine.
All of the scenarios I planned in my head
go through just as they should.
I’m flying through the air,
too high to care about the fall.
Smiling and laughing and playing
and hoping and forgetting and dreaming.
And then I get back home and
I realize that nothing had really changed.
The pain hadn’t gone away,
it had just been masked.
My cup was still so very close
to being empty,
even though it was just so full.
I’m still tired and I’m still angry.
I was happy a moment ago,
but now I’m questioning if
happiness is something I’ve ever really felt;
or rather, something I’ve made up in my head
in order to give myself the strength to keep going.
Was that laugh that overcame me
really as pure as I believed it to be?
Was that tug on my heart
really love pulsing through me?
Or was it just my imagination?
How can I have one cup so FULL,
yet so empty at the same time?
Am I allowed to appreciate the happiness,
even though I have so much indignation inside?
How can this be so?
Life is so amazing and bright
and marvelous and alluring,
yet so daunting and fearful
and jealous and painful.
Here I am.
Holding one cup,
yet I can’t decide
if it’s full or empty.
The contradictory cups.
Just another puzzle to solve.
When we were kids, my uncle would take all of us out to the garage to watch a big storm roll by. We just so happened to live south of what seemed to always be the path of the storms. So we would get our lawn chairs and flip cell phones out and have a fun night.
Times were so much more simple back then. We would laugh from the adrenaline running through our bodies – being so close to a storm yet so far away, you never know what could happen. We would gather around the weather radio and listen to where the rotation of a tornado was spotted. The garage was facing the right direction to see the storm go by and not have rain blowing in on you. There were no true worries back then. Those were the nights we were the closest. Those were the nights we came together. I wish I could get those childhood memories back. Now we’ve all grown up, split apart, and started our own families.
Tonight my own little fam sat in the garage and listened to the radio forecasts and watched the storm roll in. It was nothing too serious, but it did make me feel happy to share memories like this with the family I made. It connected me to my roots, and I’m thankful.
“I wish somebody would tell you you’re in the good ol’ days before you’ve actually left them.”
A child has the power to make you chuckle even when they aren’t around.
My daughter’s latest scheme to make me giggle throughout the day was to steal all of the fruits from my decor bowl on the table.
I noticed the bowl was empty this morning so I texted Dylan, figuring he had just moved them to keep Della out of them.
But to my surprise, he didn’t know where they were either.
It’s moments like this that remind me how special and ornery and creative and funny my daughter really is.
What a blissful reminder. It made me smile.
So I went to her room figuring that she had the fruits mixed in with the plastic fruits for her play kitchen. I looked in every drawer, the fridge, under her bed, everywhere I could think.
Couldn’t find the fruits for my empty bowl.
This girl is real funny…
Life is full of beautiful and funny moments that remind you how great life can be. Take the time to enjoy them 🤗
Even if your kid steals your decor for fun 🤩