Be the Light

Yesterday tragedy reared it's ugly head:  We live in uncertain times. My heart aches.

And aches.

It aches for the city. It aches for the victims. It aches for the families. It aches for my children who have no choice but to grow up in these uncertain time.

I don't know how to solve these huge problems. I don't know how to negate this terrible thing that is terrorism, this huge growth of global hate. I fear for my children.

I fear for their children. 

Here is what I do know. I do know my children are the future. How they navigate this world will decide what the world becomes. I cannot solve this global crisis. 

But here is what I can do.

I can teach my children love. The real unconditional truth of love. Loving your neighbors, loving your friends, loving your enemy. Loving the strange kid in their class that talks funny, loving the little girl down the street that looks funny. I can teach my children that although there is hate in this world, nothing is bigger than love.

I can teach my children kindness. I can show them what it means to give the most life changing gift there is: compassion.  I can show them that sometimes the smallest acts can make the biggest impact in other's lives.

I can teach my children about diversity. The beautiful thing it is, and how to celebrate our differences. I can teach my children about this world, about how the differences in race, culture, and religion do not divide us. We choose that division out of ignorance. 

I can teach my children empathy. This world is lacking in this. Let's raise a generation who pauses and walks a day in someone else's shoes before they judge. Let's raise children who will be unable to walk passed the homeless without pausing, who will be unable to watch a stranger in distress without reaching out. Let's teach our children to use their hearts to reach others.

I can teach my children their most valuable asset is their minds and not their fists. I can raise children who's greatest weapon and asset is not their physical strength, but their strength of character.

Will this stop all of the hate and fear of this world? Will this end the needless violence, the overwhelming bigotry prevelent? It won't erase it. I will not pretend to believe that.Where there is light there is darkness. 

But we can teach our children to shine brighter.

Love and light from another momma in the struggle ♡

I see you.

This is to you, the mom who is tired. This is to the mom who gives, and gives, and gives, until she has nothing left- and then gives some more.  This is to the mom who wants to quit. This is to the mom who questions her value or worth.

I see you. You are worth more than you could ever imagine.

I see you up at all hours of the night. You're exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally, but you still get up and rock that baby. You still get up and comfort that toddler. You nurse, you pace, you fetch, and you worry. You constantly put others needs before your own.

I see you. What you do matters. 

I see you take a deep breath as your children fight with each other for the millionth time today. I know your nerves are frayed. You're patience is gone. But I see you take a deep breath and tackle that tantrum.  I see you choose kindness when it wasn't the easiest path.

I see you.  What you do matters.

I see you glance at your reflection in the mirror. You don't even recognize the tired eyes staring back at you.  You have forgotten what it feels like to feel beautiful, to be comfortable in your own skin. I see you throw your hair up and prepare for the day. There are breakfasts to be made and stories to be told. Here's the thing, the choices that cause you to feel less than beautiful are actually what make you stunning. You chose a sleepless night. You chose to skip that shower because someone desperately needed you. You choose those yoga pants because there are mountains to climb and adventures to be had.

I see you. 

To the mom who has mountains of laundry, the mom whose sink is overflowing, but isn't half as full as her plate.

What you do matters.

What you give matters.

Who you are matters. 

So much of motherhood is unseen. But momma I see you. I see you read just one more book. I see you sing one more song. I see you feed your babies firsts, seconds, and thirds, before you try to eat yourself.

Your sacrifices do not go unnoticed. You're in the trenches right now and it's messy. But soldier on momma because you're doing some of the most important work there is, and you're doing amazing.

Love and light from another momma in the struggle ♡

The 5 Rings of Hell: A Toddler's Public Meltdown

So you've made the  extremely unwise decision to venture out in public with your little sugar pies of Satan. You've probably dressed them in their cutest little outfit. If you're me, that means matching bows and cowboy boots. You admire the fruit of your loins. Look how sweet they look, look how nicely they're listening and playing. You breathe a sigh of relief and attempt direct eye contact with your nugget of love. Next comes a cleansing sigh of relief. You've got this shit. You're basically super mom.

Then all hell breaks loose. 

The following are the psychological stages a parent goes through during a toddler meltdown. Reader discretion is advised. This isn't pretty.

1. Denial.
Surely that is not your sweet angel baby sobbing on the floor of walgreens. No child of mine would ever have the capabilities of  producing those inhumane screams. Even the cashier is crying from the trauma of witnessing this spectacle. My child would never throw a can of corn at my head at the grocery store, or rip her pants off and run away in protest of being asked to eat another chicken nugget. Surely this snot covered little muffin, who may be having an epileptic seizure in the middle of this very public playground did not come from my uterus?!?! That's it. We've officially lost our invite to play group. Way to go peanut.

2. Anger 
Since several people and several documents do in fact confirm that this is your child.  Denial is no longer an option. Cue the anger. You start sweating. Angry tears are forming. You did not watch 13 hours of Callioux that taught the valuable life lessons of patience and self control for this to happen. You have spent too many hours teaching that little nugget how to act only to have them act the opposite. You begin to have rage flashes. These are very similar to hot flashes. There is a lot of sweating and hormones involved. You're overwhelmed with the desire to start screaming and banging your head against the next available hard surface.

3. Bargaining
This is your toddlers very "faborite" stage.  You've moved on from the anger since screaming at your child at the top of your lungs is generally frowned on in public. Now comes the bargaining. Hey there cute kid currently screeching while performing an alligator roll on the floor, would you like a cookie, maybe a sucker, maybe a new corvette, or even new mother?! At this point I'll give you my own kidney and the keys to the car to get you to cease and desist.

4. Depression
So your child just turned down three juice boxes, two unicorns, and a 3 months stay at grandmas. Cue the cloud of depression that falls upon you. You glance at your child, they seem to have broken out in hives from lack of oxygen. That is your kid.
F o r e v e r.
18 to life, can't send them back, forever yours. You start to envision the thousands of tantrums ahead of you. You shiver in fear. Your child is now rolling around on the floor while randomly doing a jujitsu move on their sibling. Where did you go wrong?!?! Too many chicken nuggets? You should've started them in piano. I've heard musically gifted kids are better behaved. You're child can't spell their own name but has no problem punching a doctor. What did you do to deserve this?! It was that one time you cheated on that chemistry test in college. Karma has come back to you in the form of a small psychopath. The cloud of depression grows deeper. 

5. Acceptance.
This is my favorite. Sure your kid resembles several of the characters from the exorcist. Sure you can never leave the house again. Hey, there might be a chance you're raising the next Jeffrey Dahmer, but by God that is YOUR little sociopath and you love them just the way they are. Kind of. Now gather up that little bundle of toddler terror, give them a snuggle, remember what those 4 minutes were like last week when they were sweet, and move to the next town where they don't know about your child's ability to break glass with one cry.

Now that we've reviewed the stages we as parents go through when our children lose their minds in public. I've got nothing more for you. Good luck. Lets hope for the best and maybe buy some more beer. We've got some years ahead of us.

Love and light from another momma in the struggle ♡