Sunday, September 8, 2019
My last post was made 2/18/15 and I'm pretty sure that when I wrote it, I had intended on actually posting regularly. I think I made some kind of comment that said "consider this my first journal entry". Turned out really well.... HA!
My life is not what it was and no where I thought it was going to be by this time in my life. How can anyone simply sum up the happenings of the last 4 1/2 years? I don't know that it is possible. I don't know that I would even want to, to be honest.
My family wasn't what I thought it was going to be.
My relationship with God wasn't what I thought it was going to be.
My professional life wasn't what I thought it was going to be.
Had you asked me what I thought about my future when I wrote my last blog post, I would have given you some kind of answer that doesn't even slightly resemble what I've experienced over the last few years. I just knew in that time of my life, I had no idea who I actually was. I have spent more time since that last post finding out and in the most uncomfortable of ways at times.
My family has grown and has been redefined. Had some losses and had some gains.
My relationship with God is not my religion any longer and is something that I actually experience because I pulled God out of the box.
My professional life provided some challenges. Took some unsuspecting turns and gave me growth.
My home is secure, full, and safe.
My church is NOT church as usual where I am loved for who I am and not how I perform.
My friends have come and gone but I have the ones I need, right now.
I have learned that I have had to unlearn some things and relearn others. I have learned that I am more human than I thought but unlike other humans I know. I have learned that I am not who I thought I was and not who I was told I was. I have had to learn my identity IN CHRIST to really understand who I am on earth. I'm not who you think I am and better than you thought I was.
I am here.
Thank. God. That I am.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
I use to write...
I can easily recant those times when it felt like writing was all I had.
Like everything I felt was going to cause total annihilation of my inner self if I didn't write it down.
In the yelling
In the tears
In the disappointments
In the times that there was such painful change in my life that I couldn't hardly look in the mirror without disbelief that I was really living that life.
In the doubts
In the confusion
In the times of pure anger when my words, barely legible, ran into each other to form one giant run on sentence.
In the underage, drunkenness of my wasted youth.
My writing was all the good I had to somehow relieve the fallacious.
It was a confession of all my sin and my artistic way of making it presentable to the outside world. It was my pain written across thousands of pages, locked up and hidden in paper bound books, and later plastered on social media. It was the very thing that made feeling what i felt tolerable because, hey, I got a good poem out of it.
Now it's gone. Destroyed with little evidence of that person...
The person that once wrote about the murderous details of her self worth as a young teenager and into early adulthood. The person that wrote letters, begging to not be left behind or forgotten. The person that kept record of her sexual conquests and secretly regretted each and every one of them. The person that so desperately wanted to be liked that she spent hours perfecting the most thought provoking or witty MySpace blog post, in hopes of gaining friends. I don't miss that person. I don't miss that pain. I don't miss that pressure.
Today I think I will write.
Without fear of judgement.
Without the self serving motives of being someone you should want to know.
And WITH confidence in knowing that I'm being authentic.
My blog, for quite some time, has been for the purpose of knit banter, project updates, and the occasional sappy post. I hated that I couldn't just stick to a theme or purpose and keep on track or post on a regular basis. However, I have come to terms that it's ok and not all blogs (even mine) don't need to be for the purpose of entertaining others in hopes of gaining readers. The self inflicted pressure is off.
If anything.... consider this my first journal entry.
Monday, November 17, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
Saturday, January 25, 2014
From the moment those two pink lines popped up, I knew that my life would never be the same.
I knew that soon my life would no longer be my own and that I would be responsible for another.
Being a mom kicked in immediately with prenatal appointments, healthy eating, prenatal vitamins, maternity clothes, and gathering all that I needed to take care of the little one that would totally change my world.
I did what I wanted when I wanted.
Bought what I wanted when I wanted it.
Slept in past noon.
I flew by the seat of pants and could be spontaneous at the drop of a hat.
I felt boring, frumpy, and blah.
And that's when I decided that adjustments needed to be made and I needed to pull myself out of my mommy rut.
I've always looked to creative outlets to express myself and so I thought knitting would be perfect.
I learned in a few lessons and 5 years later I'm still a knitting machine.
It is one thing that I can do for me.
Or you can continue on the hobby you already have.
Just because an artist has a baby doesn't mean that they stop being an artist.
Just because a runner has a baby doesn't mean they have to stop being a runner.
Even if I have to wake up a little earlier than the kids, it still gives me time to get ready in the mornings.
Sure you're tired, but at least you don't stink.
How many mom's live in yoga pants?
I traded mine in for leggings.
But I usually feel my best in a pair of jeans, even if I know I'm going to be home all day.
I just feel less frumpy that way.
Run an errand, get a coffee, go grocery shopping, go on a date with your dude.
If you're limited to the house, have a friend over for a cup of coffee during naptime.
What about a play date?
For as awesome as kiddos can be, they can also be very draining.
Sometimes you just need to recharge your batteries.
Do an at home face mask at bedtime.
Buy a new shirt, dress, or jeans off a clearance rack.
Throw on some mascara even if you don't have enough time to do your makeup completely.
Whatever you need to do to give your tired, mommyself, a little boost.
You're worth being pampered, even in the littlest ways.
Sometimes as a mom, that's all we can do...
For me, I like to get my hair cut.... a lot.
Fun is just sometimes redefined.
Do family dates with friends that have kids.
I'll even take my kids to starbucks and sit with them while they drink hot chocolate and eat a pastry.
My biggest joy is seeing my kids have fun and knowing that I've contributed somehow to a happy childhood with great memories.
They aren't kidding when they say time flies.
My daughter is 3 and my son will be 7 next month.
I still feel like somehow they should both be younger than what they are and at times I have to reeeally think about how they were as babies.
And I know that when they are grown and are no longer wanting me to do their hair or play cars with them, I will wish that I could go back in time.
I will miss these days and know that I need to soak it up while I can.
Remember that when there is something you want to do but can't because you have a kid/s to take care of.
Remember that when they are screaming at you, demanding of you, and crying because of you.
You have the kisses that heal.
You have the touch that comforts them.
They need you.
You have the blessing of watching a little human (that is a part of you) grow, learn, explore, laugh, and enrich your life.