Check in on your friends!

We all have an old friend that we think about and say, ‘I should really hit them up sometime” but never do.

Life happens. We get busy. We don’t always prioritize relationships with our friends like we should.

Well, here’s your reminder: Check in on your pals. Even if you don’t know what to say. Even if it’s hard. Tell them you think about them. Tell them you love them.

You never know what someone is going through and life is too short to live quietly.

The Silence

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

It doesn’t always take a village…

When raising kids, you often hear the punchline “It takes a village;” referring to the idea of having a community of people around you to help raise your kids.

To me, this idiom always makes me feel empty.

I don’t have a village. I don’t know what that overwhelming comfort of support and reliance feels like.

I don’t have people blowing up my phone asking to take the kids off of my hands. I don’t have a backup babysitter, let alone girlfriends to go out and let loose with.

I don’t have close family to hang out with on Sundays; and I am not best friends with my mom, as a lot of people my age are.

It always makes me wonder where I went wrong, or what I did to deserve to feel this lonesome. Maybe it’s me, maybe it’s an unwritten part of motherhood. Either way, it has a way of trapping you and making you feel like you just can’t ever win.

I don’t have a village, but I’m still standing. I’m still doing what I can to get along.

I don’t have a village, but I’m still killin’ this sh*t. I’m here for my children. They are loved. They are provided for.

So no, it doesn’t take a village.

But it sure would be nice to have one.

Welcome, 2022

What do you have in store for us? For some reason, I’m very anxious to know.

2022. The year of our long-awaited wedding. 272 days until we say “I do.”

Our daughter turns 3 on Wednesday.

Who knows what the next 363 days will bring. I’m anxious and excited but also feeling cautious. Life seems so fragile and fast these days. I worry for our country and I worry about my family getting by. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.

But I remain optimistic because life is 90% about your attitude after life happens.

I have a few resolutions I’ve started for this year:

Drink more water. I have cut out most extra calories in drinks so far, but I still need to improve the amount of water I drink everyday.

Get healthier. Day two – haven’t missed a workout yet! Planning on getting a nighttime yoga session in before bed. I find great joy in exercise and it does wonders for my mental health. I feel most confident after a good workout. I understand rest is important, so this goal doesn’t relate to “working out every day.” I will work my body as hard as I can, within toleration. A healthier lifestyle also includes eating healthier, controlling my portions, and limiting unhealthy snacking. A lot of this will require mental toughness and discipline, because I sometimes have an unhealthy relationship with food. I want to eat more fresh vegetables and fruits.

Let’s all hold one another accountable on these goals. Plus, I’ve got a wedding dress to fit into! 😉

I hope we all have the best year yet!

Goodbye, sorrow

Goodbye, sorrow,

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

And wonder.

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,

Goodbye, sorrow