Saturday, February 16, 2013


It's been waaaaaaay too long since I've last written.  I get online and I want to write but I feel like there's so much that has happened and it's been too long so I never post anything.

So here I sit today, contemplating where I should begin.  This is a blog, my journal, my life...when I don't write I feel like I'm doing a disservice to my kids by not documenting the goings-on in their daily lives.  My middle child is constantly wanting me to update because she really enjoys reading it, so here goes nothing.

Life is hard. 

Whether you are young, old, married with kids or single, life is hard.

I still don't have it all figured out, yet God has entrusted me with three of His babies to try to maneuver through this bumpy, messy, crazy ride called life.  

Parenting is hard.

I have a teenager.

She is a big, massive ball of beauty, pain, love, discontent, hope, fragility, promise and uncertainty.

She drives me crazy, makes me proud and breaks my heart all in the same day.

We've been on a roller coaster ride with her over the past year and never before have I cried out to God.  Begging him to change her and to change me.  While the storm has calmed, there's no guarantee that it's completely over.  

I have a 10 year old.

She's growing up so fast. 

She's still so little and silly but is beginning to experience how hard life is at times.

That breaks my heart too.   

She reminds me that little girls can still be sweet and thoughtful and care about their mother's mental well-being. (Hee!  Hee!)

I want to wrap her up and preserve her preciousness so that in 3 or 4 more years when she's a teenager I can have some of her sweetness to remind me that she once adored me... 

Then, there's my 7 year old...SON.

A boy.

"What am I going to do with a boy?" This was my first thought way back when we found out we needed to start buying blue.

Pure joy were the days when he used to rub my back when I was next to him on the couch.  The days when I would hold him in my arms and wonder whether he looked like James or myself.  

Those days are long gone.  They have since been replaced with baseball fields, dirty socks, stealing kisses from his pouty lips at night when he's fast asleep, and on occasion he will sneak up behind me and give me a great big bear hug that in return, I make sure to gush about so that he doesn't take them away from me anytime soon. I even beg him to let me hold him like I did when he was tiny. (And he still lets me!)    

Gone are the days of newborn baby smell, naps, diapers and tiny feet.  We've graduated to prom dresses, school bullies, lost shoes, and way too busy schedules.  

I treasure my kids often but many days, when life is hard I ask 'why me? ' I try to remember that each day is a new day because we are not promised tomorrow.  I know there is a plan for my life and each of my children's lives are already mapped out by the One who gave us life.

One day at a time. 

One prayer at a time. 

Loving them through whatever comes our way.

Forgiving myself for my mistakes.

And, thanking God I'm not alone in this life.


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