Our Freshman Year?!

I googled "what's the first year callled?" The first thing that popped up was Freshman year. It definitely seems fitting. Is there anything more awkward than a freshman year? Ohhh the growing pains...

I remember my freshman year of school (jr high)...

This was the first year of my life that I cared less about what other people thought of me and more about what I thought about myself. I started seeing the world...mostly my world but beginning to look outside of it and wondering why things were the way they were. I began to form lasting friendships...friendships that still carry me through my todays. I also made some really poor decisions...I wouldn't change them. They molded me, in so many ways, into who I am today. 

FF..Freshamn year of college. I definitely had direction. I knew exactly where I wanted to be. Maybe too much. I had such a plan that I had left no space for a greater plan. I was seriously on that 5 year plan that included graduation, marriage, and babies! I was so focused that I couldn't even see what was right in front of me. If I could go back, I probably wouldn't, but if I did, I'd tell myself to relax. I'd tell myself that I didn't have nearly as much control as I thought I did. Man, I'd like to remind me to soak up the little moments and just enjoy life. I definitely could again say that in this freshman year, I formed some lifelong friendships and made some ridiculously stupid decisions. Also wouldn't change them. I am who I am today partly because of this year. 

Big FF...freshman year of parenting?! I had 13 years of teaching experience and a few years of foster parenting under my belt before I was "official" so I'm not sure freshman status is fair. Not to mention, I absolutely adored and spoiled my friends' babies all the years in between. AND YET, I still have no idea what I'm doing! I told my friends the other day that parenting is just troubleshooting EVERY DAY without a guide. It's kind of hilarious to me that after 5,000 years of praying for a baby that God decided a pandemic was the best time to test out my official mothering skills. I really am laughing as I type this.

 I prayed so hard so so hard. I remember seeing Abram for the first time and wanting to give him the world. Within a month of  rocking him to sleep, I was totally and completely in absolute love with that little boy. It honestly was probably earlier than that, but I was in denial and trying to be everything it meant to be a "foster momma". My heart and his both knew that we needed each other forever. 

A year later, Sister was the icing on the cake. She truly made us feel like a family. The timing of her coming to be with us was so perfectly aligned that EVERYTHING fell into place. Every single heart involved in the process was able to see that we three were meant to be a family. 

Oh my heart couldn't have taken it going any other way. They are mine. I am so grateful...and grateful isn't nearly a big enough word. 

This year has been hard. Our hard doesn't compare to those that have lost loved ones, the frontline workers away from their families, the teachers and students figuring out daily how to navigate virtual learning, those layed off from their jobs trying to figure out how to feed their families...I could keep going. If this freshman year of parenting has sharpened anything, it's my perspective. Looking way outside of me and mine and realizing just how blessed and privileged we've been.

 I am grateful to have almost survived the year of the "threenager" in the midst of a pandemic (ugh is he seriously almost four). Also survived the preteen's whole world being flip flopped. I can't even imagine facing a year like this at her age. Super grateful that life slowed down enough for me to see and really appreciate it all. In the middle of all the hard, we pulled out board games, walked around the neighborhood, played in the backyard, had really hard conversations, trained a new puppy (kinda), watched really good movies, camped in the backyard, went on drives, ate extra ice cream, and loved each other so so much. 

It's impossible to really put final words to this year...but the best I can do is to say I am so humbled that I get to momma them through these hard times. I love them with every piece of my heart and I also believe with all those pieces that brighter days are ahead...for us all. 

Bless you all!! Thanks again and again for all the love and prayers that have gotten us this far. ❤❤❤

Anxiety and Rona

So I'm struggling yall, and I'm sure I'm not alone. I am awake for the 3rd time tonight and the can't breathe or find my grounding feels consuming again. How many of you can't sleep? My digestive system is a complete mess. I have not been directly affected by Covid and yet I've been directly affected by Covid. 

When all of this started, I was obsessed with following the numbers and reading every. single. thing. I could get my hands on. For some reason, if I had all the information, I felt like I could make other people understand how serious this was...and maybe I could get ahead of it. 

It was a false sense of power or security that sent me spiraling before the real spring break even started. I'd like to reference real time here, but honestly I've lost track. This feels like one long nightmare. 

Yesterday our city passed a new ordinance that you must wear a mask when you are not in your house. I am grateful for those that are doing their part to slow the spread and protect the vulnerable. At the very same time, I began to panic and tried to gather information about how this pertained to my little tribe of 3. Can we play in the driveway without a mask? Our own driveway where no one is coming or going? I don't have any idea why, but the loss of something so simple seemed to completely overwhelm me. Another piece of normalcy I'd have to strip from my children? I still don't have an answer and that's probably why I can't sleep....tonight. 

I said to someone the other day, we're all in this storm together, we're just in different boats. I'm not sure why I say corny shit like that, but I do and most of the time it brings me perspective and peace. Right now though, it doesn't matter what your boat looks like...some of the best looking boats are taking on water. 

In all regards, my family has everything we NEED to withstand the storm. You'd think I could relax and just enjoy my Netflix binge like so many have suggested. (Stop crying while the healthcare providers are on the frontlines...stay HOME and watch Netflix) Here's what's weird, I am usually very content with being at home with my children.  I'm not struggling with the loss of gym time (that's one certainty). I could care less that my roots are growing out or that my eyebrows look like tiny bushes above my eyes. What is absolutely awful to me, is that a world that felt relatively safe for my children a month ago, is anything but today. 

My boyfriend is still able to work. Although this is a financial blessing that many aren't afforded right now, it means we can't see each other. My 3 year old cries every single day. How do you possibly comfort a 3 year old whose whole world has been changed from something he can't even see? It feels cruel and unfair. 

I've been disgusted by a comparison that fear somehow equals a lack of faith. I've seen it over and over. I am absolutely not a bible whiz by any stretch, but I know it says God didn't give us a spirit of fear. My interpretation of that is He doesn't want us walking around scared 24/7. He wants us to lean in closer when we are afraid. I don't remember it ever saying that you aren't ever going to experience fear. Isn't HE the one that created me and ALL of my complex emotions? I am a believer and I struggle daily right now with feelings of fear...just for the record. 

I don't say any of this for pity but rather in hopes to let someone reading this know they aren't alone. WE HAVE ALL BEEN AFFECTED BY COVID19. So to the extrovert and introvert, the nurses and the Tiger King bingers, the the old and young, the teachers that just miss school and the ones grateful for a long summer break, my friends that miss the gym and the ones that miss their favorite Mexican food joint, the employed and unemployed, the rich and the poor, you are not alone in whatever you are feeling. 

Stay safe, my friends. 

Halftime

Opinions...everyone has one. They're just like....well, you know the saying. 

I want to share a little story. A month or so ago, I started seeing my friends post about the cat killer documentary. One Saturday morning I decided to check it out. I didn't even make it 5 minutes in, and I felt absolutely sick to my stomach. I turned it off. I TURNED IT OFF, and I will never watch it because of how it almost instantly made me feel. It just wasn't for me. I didn't become enraged with the makers of the documentary. I didn't scroll back through Facebook and lash out at the friends who had recommended it. I didn't create a long dramatic Facebook post about it. I simply turned it off. 

If you hated the halftime show, if it made you uncomfortable, you had that same power. You are entitled to feel whatever you feel, but please remember YOU control whether or not YOU decided to continue watching or not. If it made you feel uneasy or like some of the posts I read, if you found it "tasteless" or "overly sexual", you had the power to change the channel. I saw one person comment "It wasn't for me, I switched over to the puppy bowl", and I wanted to applaud them. To those who were "disgusted" by the performance, my question is, how'd you make it all the way to the pole dancing portion? Why didn't you change the channel? Were you also offended by a shirtless Adam last year? Beyonce in 2013? She always puts on a sexy performance. Or was it just the pole that was too much for you?  A common theme I saw was women saying that's not the example that they want set for their daughters or granddaughters, I just hope they didn't hear your outrage and disgust verbalized. I hope not because I hope that in high school she doesn't judge the dance team and cheerleaders or the strong gymnasts in their uniforms and leotards or that athlete in her short tight track shorts working hard for a college scholarship. I hope she sees they're living out their dreams. I pray she doesn't spend her prom judging whose dress is too revealing and whose is appropriate. I REALLY hope she's the one on the dance floor, dancing like no one's watching. Maybe even, God forbid, doing some booty shaking, with her head thrown back, laughing, and loving her life.  I hope when she's in college and she sees that girl that's had too much to drink in the cute skirt and crop top that she isn't disgusted. I hope she's compassionate. I hope she reaches out and helps keep her safe. When she sees other women who have lost their power, I hope she's the kind of woman who will help them find it. 

Here's MY opinion. Take it or leave it. I loved the halftime show. I grew up a dancer, a performer. I believe I was about 12 when I had my first thong jazz leotard. I performed in HOT two pieces and elegant dresses. I felt beautiful and powerful in both. I learned to love the art of dance and the thrill of being on stage performing. I understand that each costume was an extension of the art I was expressing with my body. When I watched JLo climb that pole, it was inspiring. She certainly couldn't have pulled that off in a Moomoo.  But then again, maybe she could! I said I hoped I looked like her at 50, but the chances of that happening aren't slim to none, they're just none. What I do want at 50 is to remember the message I took away from her performance. I want to remember that women are beautiful, strong, and oh so powerful. I want to remember the aftermath and controversy and let it remind me of my job as a mother, a friend, and a fellow woman to lift up and empower other women. I hope to remember that because of the dismay of so many, people started doing some research, some of which I've read in the past 48 hours. I've learned that both JLo and Shakira have used their wealth and fame to support many charities, including helping women and children. I hope I'm always reminded to use what I have to help others. 

To my own daughter, it's your body and your rules. I will raise you guided by my own moral compass but inside you lies your own. I will help you find it and follow it. Society doesn't get to tell you how to feel about being a woman. You get to decide what that means to YOU. I want you to know that standing in judgement of other women is always ugly. I want you to see the girl next to you in class that wears her hair long and always wears dresses to honor her God, and I also want you to see the woman that takes her clothes off to put food on the table for her children, as EQUALLY worthy of your love and compassion. I want you to know that we are all more alike than we are different. I want you to see that bad ass woman with half her head shaved, coaching in the NFL, and cheer her on! Also the cheerleaders on the sidelines and the woman having a cold beer in the stands. I want you to see performances by all kinds of women artists, in all kinds of wardrobes, and I want you to cheer them on! The momma with the toddler having a meltdown in the checkout...yep cheer her on too. (She's me!) Some of your hardest years are ahead. That's hard to imagine with all you've been through. They will be somewhat easier if you learn now to support the girls around you. Love them as they are. It will be a hell of a lot easier if you learn to love yourself. You will be judged at times. Love yourself anyway. Maybe even a little harder during those times. Love your body as it develops and changes. Love it still when you find your "freshman 15" and when you first see cellulite and stretch marks. Love all the beautiful things your body is capable of whether it's running a marathon, performing on stage, or giving birth to sweet babies. When you LOVE yourself, it becomes so much easier to love others. Extend grace to other women. Extend grace to ones you don't agree with, even when you don't think they deserve it. You too will need lots of grace along the way. You will have lapses in judgment and make some big mistakes. You will need others to extend grace to you, and that is perfectly ok. I am always here cheering you on. Be a force, my dear! 

My Tootie

Three years ago, a woman whom I love for it, gave birth to a baby boy. That day was like any other to me. Actually, I was all the way in with Big and Little, living life and uncertain what each of our futures would hold. I couldn't have known that somewhere in a hospital room, my forever boy was being born. He came into my world 8 months later and I knew immediately I'd be lost without him. 

He is so special to me that I often can't put it into words. His existence in my life tested my relationship with God in so many ways and ultimately restored my faith. He brings me joy that I didn't even know was possible. He makes me laugh every day. His hugs and kisses are like medicine for the hard days, and every time he calls me momma, my heart swells with love. I honestly couldn't love him more if he had come from my very own womb. In some ways I love him even more BECAUSE of the difficult path we walked to make it to forever. 

His personality is big and so is his temper. He always knows what he wants and he doesn't mind letting others know either. He's my dinosaur lovin', Paw Patrolin', climbing up and jumpin off, apple juice drinkin', Hot Wheels playing, nappin' with momma, sister pestering, donut devouring, little boy. He sings his ABCs, counts to 10, loves to do his "homework", knows his colors and shapes, and makes the most beautiful scribbles I've ever layed eyes on. Some of his favorite phrases this year are "that's amazing", "I need a ban-baid!", "oh shit!" (I have no idea where he learned that!😬), "here my am!" (Instead of here I am), "you're a jerk" (totally giving all credit to big sis for that one!), "goodness gracious", "what's that noisey?", and lots of "I love you"! 

He loves his people...his village, and my goodness do we love him too. He brings us great, great joy. 

I know this year will hold new firsts and some lasts that I didn't even see coming. I promise to soak it all up. Happy Birthday, my sweet momma's boy. I love you so big!!!