Is nice sometimes –
But other times,
Gets way too loud
Is nice sometimes –
But other times,
Gets way too loud
A Good Mom never believes that she is a good Mom.
Perhaps, I suggest to myself, it’s just how I stroke my broken ego after a long day of chasing children around the house.
Who knew a three year old could push my buttons so quickly? No one warned me of this!
Or, maybe they did. I just didn’t listen.
Sometimes I wonder how I’m supposed to be the adult and parent two children. I mean, I don’t even want to call to schedule my own appointments, let alone be responsible for a tiny person?!
Seems bizarre, but I seem to be doing okay at it.
When I was pregnant the first time, I remember several women telling me, ‘It’s instinct. You’ll know exactly what to do.’
Oh? That’s your idea of good advice? I have no idea what I am getting myself into and I’m supposed to just trust that I will instinctively know???
But I think I am beginning to understand that they just might have been right all along.
It is easy to love wholeheartedly and be tender loving. It’s easy to want to be everything for your child. We worry because we care so immensely that we just beat the hell out of ourselves when we forget, or worry too much, or be too bold, etc etc. The list of things we beat ourselves up over really could go on and on and on. It’s so easy to be the person your children need. You may not be perfect, but I believe the love and care comes instinctively.
But, I digress.
We were made to do this. Motherhood often feels lonely and the unknown journey can be paralyzing, but we really are just all flying by the seats of our pants. No one reaaaally knows what’s going on, and if they claim to, run… Because those are the people that are waaaayyy too comfortable relying on the comfort of a world we longer live in.
The times are changing, but you are a good Mom. You possess the tools you need to make it through anything. Mothers of the world, we got this.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the one that always has her shit together
But sometimes I just wanna lose control
I don’t wanna be responsible
I wanna be wild
I wanna be reckless
I’ve spent my whole life working my ass to prove to everyone that I’m not what I came from
That I’m put together
But for just once
I’d like to make a little noise
Say what I think
Do what I want
Not show up
Just be alone
But what does this say about me?
What does this mean?
I can’t help but wonder what I’ve been missing out on
I hardly learned lessons the hard way when I was young
I’m beginning to think I don’t know myself at all
Who is this woman who yearns for disruption
Yearns the chase
The uncertainty and unpredictability
For she is on the edge of a reckoning
And just wants a taste
I don’t have closure with the way you left
I probably never will
I thought I’d write a poem in honor of you,
But I’m not sure the words are going to flow
You told me several times that I was a good writer
It empowered me and made me appreciate the craft
Now here I am – writing with a broken heart about something I never saw coming. Something I cannot explain. Something I’ll never understand.
I’m losing my poem format, but my thoughts are jumbled and you taught me that sometimes I need to step outside of my comfort zone
You were my manager
For nearly fours years
I know we don’t always appreciate coworkers
But I can honestly say you had a light in you
That I’ve never seen
Bubbles and sunshine in the form of a human
Many of the thoughts and interpersonal conclusions I came to about myself and then wrote about on this very blog were because you pushed me to ask the deeper questions about why I act the way I do, how I appear to others, and perhaps most importantly how important it is to ask why.
Why did you react the way you did?
What were you feeling? Why did that upset you? What was correct in your reaction, and what do you need to work on next time you encounter the same feelings?
Yes, it often had to do with work
But you shaped it to apply to my life
And I’ll never forget it
My heart hurts
Every time I’m in the office
Or on a zoom call
I think of you and miss you
It was a simple relationship, but a very impactful one. The thing about loss is, you don’t realize that impact until it’s gone. Our team is slowly moving forward, but many of our hearts are shattered.
We miss you, Kayla
I just put my three year old to bed. Once I closed her door, I leaned up against the wall and sighed.
I’m disappointed with the lack of patience I had with her tonight.
I could have done better. I raised my voice.
Our son is four months old and just had his first two teeth pop through, so he cried a greater portion of the entire day. And no matter what I tried, nothing really seemed to soothe him.
I’m exhausted. Tonight is one of those nights where I miss life before kids. I know that’s a bold statement, but cmon. Every mom would admit thoughts like those if they were honest enough.
I’m fragile tonight.
Not to mention, I’m trying to mend my broken heart from the tragic and sudden loss of a dear coworker I shared nearly the last four years of my life with. There are no words to describe the pain of losing someone so brilliant and bright and bubbly. The speculation is killing me, as this happened Monday night and we are still waiting for an obituary and services to be announced. This was a very tragic and traumatic situation, so I do ask for all good vibes, prayers, whatever you do – to be sent to their family at this time. Work will never be the same. I’m in shock and disbelief and this whole week just has me feeling broken and damaged. My heart is wrapped in wire.
We’re all just tryin to make it through. This shit is hard, and that’s a fact. We never know the battles, regrets, and demons that people carry with them everyday.
All being said, try your best not to be too hard on yourself.
Hello! Happy Thursday.
Today I just wanted to share a poem a find online earlier today. What joy, wonder, and excitement this brings me as I look forward to raising my children. This is a message many need in this world.
I hope you enjoy as much as I did
I step out on my back patio
To take in the winter scene
The snow’s beautiful blanket
Lays out smooth before me
Not a creature stirs
Not a sound was heard
The birdhouse, once full with a family
Now looks so cold and empty
The winter’s beauty leaves me aghast
But I can’t help but miss those little birds
I’m sitting at my desk with a moment of peace
For how long it lasts, who knows
My infant rests quietly in his swing
His soft, infrequent whimpers remind me he’s still there
My daughter, sprawled out on our bed;
with her beautiful blonde curls surrounding her
She sleeps so sweetly you’d never guess
the power and strength she possesses when she wakes
It’s quiet now;
but it won’t be for long.
It’s funny how much you miss the quiet when they’re awake
and how much you miss the noise once they’re asleep
I lie to myself.
Why do I feel the need to not feel what I feel?
I’m allowed to be angry
And I’m allowed to feel that anger as long as I need to.
There is no time limit on healing.
It comes in waves.
I’ll feel overwhelmingly fine,
And I’ll be unresentful.
But then sometimes I feel so full of anger
How did this happen? Why did it have to be this way?
Sometimes I feel guilty for having an understanding of the word hate.
And then I’ll be okay again, feeling guilty for living like it doesn’t matter.
But it does.
I’ll just whisper to myself,
It’s easier to let go
of an expectation
Than it is to
Hold someone accountable
for letting you down
The world will crumble
And won’t think twice
about taking you with it
Much like a thorn
Who softens it’s prick
for not one soul
You’ll work around it
Ignore the pain
And keep growing
But that failed expectation
Will devastate even
the strongest of forces