Swimming in the Deep End
It’s fall y’all. Somehow this wild roller coaster of a year keeps chugging along— toot toot— and we’ve made it to September. It’s weird for me to realize that my family has lived in Colorado for more than a year. It feels like yesterday that we were watching movers put our belongings into cardboard boxes and saying goodbye to our friends and my beloved beach. But one look at my son’s high water pajamas or the baby’s long curls, and I realize that a year has gone by and a lot has changed. So as I ring in our second fall here (complete with an early snow), I’m remembering that…
Chapter Books
My oldest is officially a reader, and we have reached the point in our parenting where his presence prevents us from spelling things in covert communication. First grade saw a significant jump in his reading abilities and comprehension. He’s ready for chapter books if I could just convince him that they’re worth his time. Unfortunately, he’s not interested in chapter books. He wants one and done books, not the kind that takes time to get through. A someone who loves reading and writing, it’s frustrating how much he fights me on reading. He hasn’t yet learned the beauty of exploring through books. He hasn’t found joy at the end of…
Bubble Baths & Long Talks
My hands felt sweaty on the microphone, and there was a faint shake to them, a combination of coffee and nerves. Some people have fantastic stage presence, they step in front of a crowd, and a dynamic alter ego breaks through. Me, not so much. I was my usual brand of sincerity, awkward authenticity, and random movie quotes. I did it anyway. I stood on the small stage in front of 20 some women and shared my heart and God’s wisdom. I spoke about self-care, which I would never have imagined wanting to talk about, let alone fill 45 minutes of time on. After all, the topic and I have…
Angry Mommy
I lost it. Like, really lost it. ‘It’ being my self-control, my patience, my compassion, my rational thinking, all gone. There was nothing redeemable about that moment with my child. In it, I was her, the genuinely crappy mom. I have my moments, and this was one. If my emotions were animated, it would be as Cruella de Vil having a psychotic break with reality, eyes clouded by anger and driving this metaphorical car forward with my rage sure to end the exchange in a fiery crash. This isn’t the mom I want to be. This isn’t the mom I want my kids to have. Yet sometimes I find myself…
The Gift of Friendship
It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year… I hope you’re singing that song in your head, though you might disagree with the sentiment. Instead, it might be the most expensive time of the year, the most stressful time of the year, the most depressing time of the year, or the most lonely time of the year. The holidays have a way of sending emotions into overdrive. Twinkling lights, Hallmark movies, and sugar cookies can make some people overflow with joy. But for others, the happiness everyone else seems to feel causes a quick descent in the opposite direction. It feels like Eeyore walking around underneath a raincloud, wondering how…
Home is Where the Heart Is
Home is where the heart is, or so the old adage goes. But that doesn’t accurately encompass the complexities of military life. My children and my husband are my heart, and they’re here with me, but Colorado doesn’t feel like home yet. So when does a place feel like home and not just a place you live? I recently posed the question on my Facebook page confident that my military connections would have the answer. Responses included: When you can get to the grocery store without navigation When you make real/genuine friendships When you feel comfortable in the area When you’re involved in the community (both an answer and a…
The Ones Who Came Before
I sat on the brown suede couch, body sunk deep in the well loved cushions. I needed a friend. Potty training was not going well. So much pee, so much poop, so much mess. He wasn’t getting it. I was exhausted and frustrated by the endless unproductive bathroom trips that resulted in a pee puddle on the floor 5 minutes later. I was also trying to juggle a 6 month old baby who wouldn’t sleep at night and somehow also keep up with the piles of smelly, urine soaked clothes. I was miserable and defeated. She gave me helpful advice, but most of all, she encouraged me. She rallied my…
When the time comes…
They don’t know me here. They know my husband, and perhaps know of us, maybe our reputation proceeds us— for good or bad, who knows. When I arrive, I am just a name. A handshake introduction, an awkward conversation; where are you from, what do you do? Simple questions that I can’t answer simply. There are simple facts to learn, Lauren, age thirty—*cough*, stay at home mom of four. They see the put together(ish) appearance that I aim for and that I am a special needs parent. Given time they will learn what that entails. We will eventually talk about my daughter, I’ll teach them the word hydranencephaly and try…
In Sickness & In Help
I’ve reached two weeks of being stuck at home with kids who are simultaneously too sick to be in public but too well to be cooped up— especially when the Motrtin takes effect. I get the privilege of holding my oldest as he cries thanks to a nice broom whack to the forehead. I should applaud my sons’ creativity. The lone dirty diaper that hadn’t found the trash can was turned into a ball and the broom was functioning as a bat. It only took one swing for my sons to realize it was a bad idea. Should have choked up on the bat. Or, you know, not attempted to…
