S'mores Life

Dear Second Child, I'm not sorry that I'm just now completing the photo book from the year I was pregnant with you, and haven't even begun your baby photo book. You turn five in less than four months. I'm not sorry that your older sister had her newborn pictures professionally printed within two weeks of her birth, and I just now ordered pictures to fill your "Baby every month" frame. I'm not sorry that in your sister's baby book, I marked the date for every new tooth, and she has a special compartment for hair from her first haircut. All I have for you is the statement I told the dentist "I don't know, she was a late teether because I remember being glad I only worried about being bit while nursing for a few months. I think she 11 months when she got her first tooth?" And I found a baggie with hair I'd saved from when I trimmed your bangs for the first time recently, but when I reached in and my hand unexpectedly came into cont...

Trigger warning: mental illness, suicide, profanity. If bears could talk, they’d tell you that your children are better off without you. I’ve started and stopped this piece of writing about ten times. And only like three or four of those times are because I was interrupted to cut hot dogs/clean up a spill/wipe someone’s butt.  I’ve started and stopped so many times because what do I have to say about suicide and mental illness that hasn’t been said before? Nothing. I don’t have anything to add that hasn’t been said before, but truthfully, I don’t have anything groundbreaking to add to the rape culture conversation, or conversations about LGBTQ inclusivity in the church, or donut conversation (I haven’t tried Dipper’s Donuts yet) either but that hasn’t stopped me. I say all the things all the time and need some help not always saying all the damn things. Though, I firmly believe some of us (hi!) were called to be more vulnerable in order to help others with their pain, and ...

I say funny-ish because anyone who has anxiety (or any other mental illess) knows it can turn dark quick. I'm lucky that for at least the last year, I've been able to laugh at my anxiety and dismiss it before it gets scary (but not before I sweat a little but like, that's just me...MY AWKWARD IS SHOWING.) Scenario 1:   I mutter “whoaaaa, ok” under my breath as a woman backs out of the school parking lot without checking to see if anyone is behind her (me).  Clara: don’t be so furious, she’s just a grandma. Me: Clara, do you know what furious means? (I explain it after it becomes clear she does not.) Regular me to me: Well that was kind of funny. Anxious me to me: If she thinks that is me being furious, I wonder how many times she has thought I was furious when I was not. I wonder who all she has told I was furious when I dropped a pen and said "ugh" if she thinks muttering "whoa ok" is furious. I bet she's told all her teachers...

I still wear my almost 4 and a half year old in a baby carrier, and here's why...along with some questions I've been asked about that choice. Why do you still wear your 4 year old in a baby carrier? For a lot of reasons...sometimes, it's because I skip zumba or barre to go to target/sleep/clean/go to target/spend time with my kids/go to target/etc. and I want to feel less guilty about that choice so I decide to burn some extra calories that way. Or because I take my kids out for pizza and gelato and I don't want to spend the whole meal hating myself for eating it (like pretty much every other American woman I know, working on that one in therapy, thank you very much.) It's an excellent work out, child-wearing, and she told multiple people at my workplace "it's not too hard for mommy, it just makes her very sweaty." Other times it's because I need to get some work done, either around the house or at work, that involves lots of running around ...

My family (12 of us - seven adults, 1 teenager, 1 jet lagged kid, 1 jet lagged preschooler, a toddler and a newborn!) had an extended family photo shoot while we were visiting last weekend. As I was scrolling through the pictures and thinking about how beautiful every member of my family was in their own way, I came across this picture. I glanced at it for half a second and kept scrolling, because my immediate reaction towards it was disgust. I hated the way I looked and I knew if I continued to look at it it that I’d feel worse and worse about myself, and why subject myself to that? Aaron Rosa Photography A few days later I was going through the pictures again, and of course, I knew this one was coming. I fought my desire to keep scrolling when it came up and I really examined it. And I started to see something different than I originally saw. I saw a woman full of unadulterated joy. I saw a genuine, belly laugh. I saw a well earned gray hair (or four) popping out of a ...

We have all heard single people, whether they're single parents or divorced with no kids or never been married, express their discomfort and negative feelings surrounding Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day can be a reminder of what is "missing", of comparing your happiness to couples you know, or an excuse to wallow a bit in your ice cream and binge watch Nicholas Sparks movies. Being a single person myself, I'd like to respond to those expressions with two thoughts: 1) Your thoughts & feelings are totally, completely valid and normal and I've experienced them myself. 2) I vehemently disagree with those sentiments. Here is why, to me, being a single mom on Valentine's Day is the absolute best: I get to show my girls that Valentine's Day is not just about romantic love. It is about love in friendship and parent/child love, self-love and love from their grandparents, and God's Love, and sister love (not in the sister wife way, though, you...

The other day one of my daughters asked me if there was a college she could attend to become a Super Hero. As with many of our little ones questions ("But how exactly DID the daddy seed get into the mommy's belly? But, HOW?") I was not prepared with an answer for this so I replied "Well there is school to become a police officer or firefighter and they help people in the same way superheroes do." She wasn't satisfied with that answer, and so I've been thinking about the specifics of becoming our own Wonder Women, magic rope or not. I've been feeling pretty Super Woman myself lately. I've been listening to the Powerful Women of Pop playlist on Amazon recommended by my best friend, I've been responding to tough situations in ways I am proud of. This past year has brought a lot of change to my family, my personal, and my professional life and I feel like I'm finally finding my groove. I'm finding ways to be more efficient with my time,...