From an article originally posted August 6, 2013…
Please be patient with me as I struggle articulating what is on my heart in words. Throughout this summer I have had many conversations with families concerning my new perspective on parenting, and I have had a really positive response. In its explanation it seems simplistic, but in practice I’m learning the struggle of this new perspective.
From an article originally posted July 31, 2013…
Yesterday started with such promise and might have sputtered along in a few hormonal outbursts. But I will say, the day ended well. Before Jason headed off to work, he hung up the clothesline he had gotten me. With a little one trying bedtime without a pull-up, I needed the line to save our electric bill. It was up in all its glory. I was tickled.
Then it fell, clothes, blankets and all.
From an article originally posted July 24, 2013…
Each of us has some kind of stereotype to overcome, break free from, and find strength where only weakness is felt. For me, this area is home keeping. I actually keep a pretty tidy home. I have come a long, long way. But this is an area of extreme self-loathing for me. I once hated myself for almost a year because my front coat closet was a wreck. One day I decided I would face it. Guess how long it took? 15 minutes. Seriously, 15 minutes. I couldn’t believe it. I hated myself over that closet. 15 minutes was all it took.
From an article originally posted July 12, 2013…
Today was the day that forever changed the landscape of my life. It is a day I will never forget, though I only remember it in snapshots. I remember cleaning the house after the fire. I remember taking a shower when I usually take a bath.
I decided to switch it up, and because I was doing something different, I decided it was time to do my breast exam. My left breast was always lumpy as I nursed so I decided to start on the right. I found my lump before I passed over the threshold of the shower. Immediately, I could not believe what I felt. I spent the rest of the shower crying. Something in me just knew. Though as the weekend progressed, I was convinced otherwise.
From an article originally posted July 9, 2013…
Oh, the bliss of busy. Oh, the joy of avoidance. Oh, the utter excellence of ambivalence. What? It’s not? It doesn’t refresh and stop hurt?
Yesterday I had an honest conversation with a friend from North Carolina. I told her how very hard this coming week of remembering feels. I told her that I have filled my calendar to avoid it. She knows me well. She knows my hiding place is busy. My place of avoiding my heart is filling my time with people that share and unburden their hearts. She knows how ragged and worn out I become in that place. She has seen me often at the end of my tired spent self.
