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A tribute

Dear Dodger,  I can’t believe you are gone. I wake up and expect to see you lying next to my bed or sitting looking at me because the baby is crying and you want me to get him and take care of him. I can’t bring myself to vacuum up your fur that still clings to my couch and sits in tufts on the floor. Yesterday when I ran with Jax along the trail, I felt you with me. I kept looking at my left side, expecting to see your sleek athletic body, muscles working, running and pulling me. You always pulled no matter what - even when you had to wear a gentle leader. Always wanting to go faster, your enthusiasm could not be contained. Even though I couldn’t see you physically there, and wished to have just a glimpse of you, I felt your presence. It’s like you are with me right now as write this. If I turn away from the screen you will be right next to me lying in the sunshine, ready for whatever we are doing next. But I dare not turn around because I would rather dream of you there then see
Recent posts

Letting go and folding towels

I thrive when I have things to do. A schedule, something to accomplish, things to check off my mental list. I feel like the most ungrateful person because here I am struggling with the day to day of what do we do next. A summer at home with my kids. We went to the beach yesterday - we are going to the beach today. For someone who likes to move and have places to be it seems more stressful to me than anything else. Especially since in a month some major things are happening. Like my son is going to kindergarten. My daughter is starting preschool. A major volunteer role I'm doing is going to be in full swing. But for now. The waiting. And the pressure to enjoy every minute. Because this is the last time I have my kids at home without having to have at least one of them at school everyday. I keep thinking about it. And so of course, I decided I'm going to paint their bathroom and the horribly ugly pink claw foot tub another color. All in one day. The other day I organized my 3

Dear tired and hurting mamas...

Dear Mamas, For me this is the Monday morning of spring break. For you it may just be another Monday and you may be completely not affected by school schedules yet. What if this week we had a choice?  A choice to let love be the loudest voice. Ultimately, we are really the ones who decide whether or not we are going to thrive in motherhood rather than merely surviving. It may not seem like that when love is not the loudest voice. When all the other crap weighs us down. When are not only desperately physically and emotionally needed constantly by our children but at the same time are attacked by the negativity of our mind. When we are so physically tired but then are not being kind to ourselves. Comparing ourselves to other moms in a negative way. Thinking other moms are better than us or that we are in adequate. We must try harder. Or how about worrying that something terrible will happen to our children unless we are completely aware and prepared for any situation? Or some of us ma

Mommy Shalom

Shalom means "peace with you." As a mom of two young children, the state of Shalom is on my mind. It begs the question of - when I am my own boss - at home with two young kids and my husband why do I feel the least bit of Shalom? I am more likely like a constant state of "stress with you" while I hurriedly try to keep everything up to a certain standard. Rush here. Rush there. Buy this. Buy that. Check Facebook. Clean. Get stressed and frazzled by my two year old throwing yet another tantrum. The thing is I know these tantrums are coming. I know she is two. I know there is going to be messes to clean. I am responsible for feeding my family, being present with my kids all the while seeming to pull it off to the world without a hitch. Like a Boss. But what if all that mattered was Shalom? What if my only mission was to love? This week I focused on spring cleaning. Spring cleaning of my mind. I got rid off self imposed expectations, stress, comparison, and over f

The Mom Grinch

The other day I was feeling especially grinchy. Standing in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher for the tenth time that day, it dawned on me Christmas is only for children...and men. A feeling of bitterness, exhaustion and pressure crept over me as I crammed another sippy cup into the cupboard. It's up to me - the mom - to pull off Christmas. And since my kids are 2 and 4 - well it had better be magical. I wasn't exactly feeling magical. You know, the whole family, just yesterday were in the throws of the stomach flu and I'm pretty sure our elf, Sandy, brought it from the north pole and infected us all with his obnoxious Christmas germs. So here I am mad at Christmas, because I've discovered December is a month of the year where moms need to put it in overdrive. The normal day to day doesn't go away. Now, I've got to decorate, move that elf, shop, bake cookies, design, address and mail Christmas cards, see Santa... I began to feel even more rotten. Then I utt

Why I'm not moving to Canada and I hope you don't either

Dear fellow Americans, Yesterday I woke up singing "sister suffragette" with misty eyes.  "Cast off the shackles of yesterday  shoulder to shoulder - into the fray!" Not because I love Hillary Clinton. Because of the historical significance that she was even on the ballot. That the idea a woman could run for president won't be a fairy tale to my children. As I sat on the brown corduroy couch in my predictably blue state I watched state after state shock the news as it came up bright red. Friends, history is alive right now. We are the American people and the generation experiencing this shift in paradigm today. How are we going to respond? Susan B. Anthony's grave was covered with women's "I voted" stickers yesterday.  I don't think Susan B. Anthony would leave the country if she was alive today. Did she leave the country or threaten to when she was arrested for illegal voting? Did Rosa Parks try to leave the country after s

Diagnosis Disorders and Uniqueness

Last week I found out some really hard news about my daughter. In my gut, I always knew certain parenting strategies wouldn't work for her like they did for my son. Everyone with more than one kid knows that. But more often than not, there are some pretty challenging as well as amazing quirks my daughter has which makes her incredibly unique. It seemed pretty clear to me my daughter has a speech delay. Not uncommon. However, the speech therapist also diagnosed her with something called sensory processing disorder. All of her behaviors I had thought which make her very adventurous, unique, stubborn, strong willed and creative are categorized under this disorder.  Something about the term "disorder" really bothered me which is why it was so hard to hear. Of course no parent wants their child to struggle, but I shirked away from so quickly putting a label on my 2 year old. The positive side to knowing she possibly has SPD is I already have gained some really positive