"In the stillness..."

Last night, I went to check on Bailey.... I do most nights when I randomly wake up at all times during the night. So at 2 AM I peeked into her bedroom. But unlike other nights,  I sat next to her bed on the floor and watched her sleep for a while. During the day, she is a whirlwind. She never sits still for long, and even when she is sitting, she isn’t still. 

Tonight, there was something about her face I couldn’t make myself walk away from, and it took me a few minutes to figure it out. I could see baby Bailey in her face tonight. Something about her expression and the way she was laying, she just didn’t look like her normal three-year-old self. She looked younger.

And any parent knows, your kid looking YOUNGER than they actually are is a rarity. Older, sure! But not younger.

So, I sat and I watched her. And I thought about how when she was a baby I was always so excited about the next milestone, wondering when she would crawl, walk, talk, and on and on. I thought about how it used to just be the two of us during the day, and how much time we would spend cuddling on the couch or playing peek-a-boo.

I thought about how heartbroken I was to go back to work. I remember about much I worried about leaving her...scared of even missing one moment with her....scared of leaving her period.....and I remember how much she absolutely didn't care that I left her that first day because she had Pawpaw and Mawmaw there to dote on her every move. 

 I realized that at some point I have stopped looking forward to milestones. I am still delighted by them when they happen... But milestones make me sad, too. 

Because I know that tomorrow I will wake up and both of my babies will be a day older. I will have one day less of them being babies in my future, and one day more of their lives will be in the past. 

My sweet girl has grown and changed so much in the three short years I’ve had the privilege of being her mommy. And Khristian's milestones are coming quicker than I can keep up with. 

As I sat by her bed and watched her sleep so peacefully, I think about our world today. About 9/11. About Paris. About refugees and suicide bombers. About school shooting and theatre bombings. About what we as Americans are facing in our country today. She knows nothing of hatred and cruelty. She knows nothing of this world and the evil that lies beyond our front door. 

I think back to a couple night ago when she runs into my bedroom claiming that there is a monster in her bedroom....In my mind, I can her wide eyes looking up at me in panic believing that I can keep her safe from anything. I scooped her up into a big hug and smoothed her hair...reassuring her that there was no such thing as monsters. I picked her up and sat her on my bed....put some cartoons on to occupy her mind and headed to her room. The monster turned out to be a spider that had crawled under her bed....and despite being completely creeped out by this tiny 8 legged demon spawn....I killed it and became the hero she believes me to be. 

So last night as I sat by her bed and watched her chest rise and fall, her soft curls sweep across her forehead and her tiny hands that wrap around my neck every morning in a hug.....how do I tell this beautiful angel that monsters do exist in our world? They aren't big and scary....with razor sharp teeth. They look just like me and you....nice and put together....but what makes them a monster lies within. There is a inconceivable evil that I can't even begin to explain to her...and it terrifies me. It terrifies me for both of my children. No matter how much she looks at me as the hero....I can't protect her from the monsters of the world. 

So last night,  I sat by her bed and let all the sweet memories play through my head....and soaked up her innocence in that moment.  And then, just before I got up off the floor, I kissed her nose, right between her eyes....and I prayed. Because in a world where I am terrified of what my children will face on a daily basis....of what our country will face on a daily basis....praying is the only thing that makes sense. Our country needs to fall on its knees and remember what it was founded on. 

I stood up kissed her again and she snuggled deeper into her pillow and smiled in her sleep, and my heart melted.... So I kissed her again. She frowned and rolled away from me with a little huff…and I had to stifle a laugh, because even in her sleep she is a sassy little thing. 

Before I closed her door behind me, I looked at her one last time and smiled......She had snuggled back into her pillow and was still.....I looked down the hallway into Khristans room...and he was snuggled into his pillow as well.....I was reminded to hold onto the precious moments of stillness. For in a couple of hours the sun will rise, the day will begin....and they will be a day older. 

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"Strength is often found most in the hardest times..."

My Sweet Bailey, 

I hope your view of your Mother is that of a strong, confident woman who has stubbornly shown you how women can achieve whatever they want to. This is not a letter to you about feminism, or equality, or anything else socially or politically driven, sometimes I think those things put an added pressure on us all, men, women, adult and child alike.

Instead, this is a letter to you to tell you that although I hope to be a strong role model throughout your life, sometimes I am weak. Hopefully I keep that from you and you will grow to be confident and self assured, but also kind, and compassionate. But you should know there are some days when I am, frankly, an emotionally mess. I have worked my way from a single teenage mom, who was a waitress and begged to work every free hour she had to take care of your brother..... to working in a office environment as a Secretary for the last 8 years. I take pride in knowing that I have never been handed anything in my life...I have worked and worked hard for everything that we have. 

As I sit here and type this, I find myself in a gray area again. I don't know which way my life is going. Change is in the air. I am searching for another job....and to some that seems so trivial to worry about...but for me, Its a shake up in the foundation that I have worked so hard to lay for our family for so many years. I do not have a college degree. I do not have much experience in many fields....and I do not qualify for many of the jobs available on the market. I feel like I am once again back to square 1...wondering where this wind of change will take me. 

This pressure sometimes gets to me. I know what I am good at. I know what I am passionate about....but I also know that although I love these things, it will not give me the security I need to raise you and your brother and afford me with the benefits I need to take care of myself in the future. 

Your dad and I are very lucky, we get to spend a lot of time with you even when we are working. I was hired at my current job because of my knowledge, experience and based on merit. My worries are based on my own insecurities.  While I work my full time job, I also have a part time job. That is where my passion truly lies. In helping people....In seeing their eyes light up with absolute joy of realizing they can do the impossible. And while I am off making this dream of mine come true....your grandparents are a God send. You see, I have had so many people that have helped in this area of my life. I will never be able to repay the gratitude I feel for these family members and friends. They know who they are. I am beyond blessed that you have such a close relationships with your Grandparents and other close family members that live near by. Do I still feel guilty for the efforts your Grandparents need to make so we can thrive in our chosen work fields? Yes of course I do, I can only hope they know how appreciated it is and how much of a difference it makes. It has enabled us to get where we are and carry on providing you and your brother with a certain quality of life. Do I still feel the pressure of our heavy workload? Of course, but I count my lucky stars that we have the opportunities that we do. 

So which side is the lie? Is the happy highlights a myth? Or is the self doubt, struggles and hard work the illusion? The truth is, they’re both my reality. The self doubt sometimes keeps me grounded. The precious moments I share on social media keep me motivated and the struggles remind me it’s all worth it. 

The definition of a strong, confident person does not mean one that never doubts themselves, it doesn’t mean someone who never has a bad day or find their choices difficult. Strength is often found most in the hardest times. Someone who has constant success or continual highs has no need for strength. Someone who has never had bad times, has never needed to overcome them. As your Mother, I will fight to my last breath to keep you safe and give you and your brother as idyllic a childhood as I can but the truth is, as you grow up, the lows will be just as important as your highs for getting you where you need to be.

So I hope the view of your Mother is that of a strong and confident woman. I will be sure to tell you about each and every person that has helped me along...... But for you, my highlights reel will be accompanied by at least a sneak peek of the backstage pass, the parts you can learn from, the bits that could give you strength. The struggles that so many like to keep hidden. I'm sure there will be some days when you will feel weak, when you will question if you are making the right decisions, you will probably even have seasons in life where change blows in like a hurricane; in those days I want you walk the course with a understanding that you are not walking that path alone....that your mother has often felt that way in so many steps of life. But she wasn't a quitter and neither are you.  So my beautiful girl, in your weakest days, remember that you are strong. In your most insecure days, remember that you are confident. Remember these things when you can’t remember why you’re doing whatever your doing, and know that through all of it, you are unquestionably, and unchangingly loved.

All my love,

Mommy 

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"The view from the top of the stairs...."

"When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny....” 

I entered through the double glass doors and made a slight turn to the left and started up the first set of stairs......I could fell the sunshine warming my face as I came to a small platform that lead into another set of stairs.....I stepped onto the first step and then the next....with each step I took a slow, small smile started to spread across my face. I could feel the sunshine coming through the window and lighting up each and every step I took. By the time that I got to the very top step....it was a full blow, confident, I'm so proud of myself smile. I turned and gazed out the large window laid before me....looking out over the quad of Troy University. 

That journey up the staircase was 8 years ago. I was scared...I was young....I had skills that had not yet been established and sharpened....I still felt like a little kid inside an adults body. I felt like I was playing dress up in my new dress and high heels that I bought just for this day. My first day as a Troy University employee. 

I stood at the top of that staircase....looking at the view through the window and thought to myself with tears in my eyes "I have finally made it." I heard Dr. Hawkins step off the elevator and I turned and was immediately tongue tied as he asked me if I was lost.....I finally responded "No Sir....I am new here and today is my first day. I was just admiring the view at the top of the staircase." Dr. Hawkins responded "It's quite breathtaking at times. I am pleased to have you come work for our great University and we are happy to have you."  And thus began my 8 year journey at Troy. 

Last week, unexpectedly, I was told that my position with the Troy University was being terminated due to budget cuts. I felt like the breath was knocked out of me....like my blanket of security was being yanked away. I've been on this floor...at the top of the stairs with the view through the window...with my colleagues that have become family for the last 8 years. We have watched each other have children, get married, laugh, celebrated birthdays, small successes, failures, ready to throat punch one another one moment and in the next second asking what it is we can do to help them. These people are my family. 

I took a couple days to myself last week and reflected on the change that was about to take place in my life. I was given 3 months to find another job and was assured that I would be helped and I had a whole slew of people in my corner to make sure I was taken care of. 

While sitting on the beach Friday afternoon, looking out over the beautiful water and watching a family play in the water....I thought about how life is a journey. Often times our story takes unexpected turns and we find ourselves in places we never thought we’d be.  That’s the beauty of life.  Uncertainty, although scary, is what gives life meaning.

Think about it.  Love comes unexpectedly.  Children sometimes come unexpectedly.  Job promotions, raises, friends and even death.  All the things that make life great come as a plot twist in our story.  We don’t know what lies ahead.  That’s the way an author likes it.  That’s what makes for a good story.

Life is an amazing adventure.  We will have good times and bad, but our attitude makes the difference in how we come through those things.  A good attitude even in the worst of situations will take you a long way.  Will it be easy? No.  It’s not supposed to be easy.  We wouldn’t need God if it was.  We have to be totally dependent on him.  He’s the author.   When you read a book, you trust that the author is going to weave a good story that will leave you longing for more.  Trust him.  Surrender everything to him and know that no matter what you’re going through, he has put together an amazing story that is all your own.  No one else has your story.

Allow yourself to experience life.  Don’t close yourself off.  Don’t put up walls.  We tend to do that when we’ve been hurt or when we’ve experienced great loss.  When you hide yourself away, you are telling the Author that the story he wrote for you, isn’t good enough. Turn the page.  Know that he has your best interest at heart and that he will come through for you.

So as I prepare to leave my job of the last 8 years....and my future with Troy University is uncertain. I want to take a moment to appreciate what the view at the top of the stairs has given me. 

It gave a former teenage mother that had worked tooth and nail to find some form of stability in her life the platform she needed to build on. It gave me a hope that someone like me could make it....could struggle and strive and make it. I gave me the opportunity to work on myself....to watch people of a higher standard and to learn from them. It gave me the best work family I could have ever dreamed of....it gave me a girl that I am honored to call one of my best friends...and I can't tell you how hard it will be to not be right across the hall from her. Most of all, it gave me a sense of pride. I stood at the top of those stairs....and I was proud of myself for once. I was proud to be a Troy Trojan. 

So, Thank you Troy.....Thank you from the bottom of my heart, for the view at the top of the stairs. It's been a great view and one I will never forget.

You were right Dr. Hawkins.....It is quite breathtaking at times. 

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“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?..."

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?” 

lynyrd skynyrd said it best didn't they?

This morning, I stood in the place where I do most of my deep thinking–the shower– thinking about life and, oddly, thinking about death...

Death isn’t something we like to think about, which makes sense. But isn’t thinking about death what sometimes puts our lives into perspective? Don’t we sometimes lose focus of our priorities because we feel like we are Edward Cullen and will live forever (minus the sparkling skin, of course)?

I have been re-reading one of my favorite books..."Tuesdays With Morrie"....If you have never read this book, I recommend you stop right  now and purchase it. It is well worth the money and time to read it. Morrie Schwartz says in Tuesdays With Morrie that he actually felt lucky to have the chance to face his death; he knew it was coming, so he had to prepare. He even says, “When you learn how to die, you learn how to live.” Remembering death can make life that much more vibrant and valuable...

In the same vein, there was a movie a few years ago called "Evening" in which an elderly lady reflects on her life as she passes away. It was a terrible, boring movie . . . but the concept was riveting, and it is something that I’ve never forgotten. It's just one of those things that has stuck with me for some reason. Essentially, both works ask the question: if you knew you were dying tonight, what would be the most important things to you? What would you remember from your life?

While lathering up the shampoo in my hair and watching Bailey dance around the bathroom, I got to thinking about this question for my own life. If I were to die tomorrow, what would have really mattered in my life? What moments would comfort me? What moments would stick out?

Clearly, there are the obvious. My wedding, the birth of my children, etc. But, as I thought about it.... these actually weren’t the things that were the most prominent. We always live for the big moments.... tracking our lives by our achievements and major moments. We throw parties, celebrate, and announce our big victories......But what about the little victories? What about the small moments?

For me, when I think about my life so far, they are what stick out. The moments that seemed insignificant.... almost forgettable at the time....tend to be the ones I come back to time and time again.

My moments (not in any particular order)

• Mrs. Bias Speech class in high school....when I finally got up enough courage to stamd in front of the class and read. It was 3 minutes of absolute terror....but I did it...and I haven't shut up since. 
• The big snow storm of "93". I was in the 4th grade and I was covered from head to toe with the chicken pox. As I watched out the window with tears rolling down my face....my older brother and sister filled the bathtub with snow so I could play. I don't have many memories of my older siblings....but that one makes me smile. 
• The very first writing contest I ever won. It was in Mrs. Harris 3rd class and I wrote about a green witch. It was then that I discovered my love of writing. 
• Mr. Stevens College Prep English class......We gave that man so much grief over his wife dressing him everyday....but he is the one who taught me to "Pick and choose your battles.....decide what hill you want to die on....and make it a good one." 
• The day in the hospital room after I had Khristian.....and I asked him what it is he wanted me to do. He grabbed my finger with all the strength of a newborn....and chose me. 
• The first date Travis ever took me on. I was sitting in the passenger seat as nervous as can be....and ready to jump ship at any moment. All the sudden I heart him sing "Lay you down" by Conway Twitty....and instantly my heart melted. 
• The day my step-mom and I ran our own race. 13 miles mapped around Troy....my dad and uncle following in the car behind us with water and a "You've got this." No medals waited for us at the finish line....but a hug from each other that said "WE did this." 
• I love old records. There is something about the sound and feel of it that you just can't get from an Ipod or radio. I can remember dancing around the house to old 50's music with my mom and grandmother. 
• The week after I had Bailey....my little brother Adam came over and watched Bailey. Just sat and played with her so I could get a good long shower....and clean my house. It gave me a sense of normalcy....something so simple....but it meant the world to me. 
• My dad meeting me at the door with a Dr. Pepper everyday when I was a little girl. 
• The day I started my weight loss journey, I vowed I would go into the same swimsuit shop that I couldnt find a swimsuit in and buy anything in that store. Exactly 1 year later, I went in and the lady remembered me....and we picked out a beautiful bathing suit that fit me perfectly. She cried when I stepped out of the dressing room....because she had seen my cry in pure disgust with myself 1 year before. 
• Listening to Khristian and Bailey fight over "Whos song" Travis is going to play next. 
• A day this summer when I literally spent all day in the yard reading
• Laying on the beach all day with my parents...and waking to the smell of coffee that I know my dad has started. 
• My very first 5K....my time didnt matter.....thats when I fell in love with running. 
• The first time I saw the light in one of my friends eyes that accomplished something she never thought she could. I cried for her that day....because it was a "Big" moment is her life....and I knew it. 

I could literally go on and on....but I will stop.

Hopefully, I won’t die tomorrow. First of all, I still have a lot of big and small moments I want to experience. Second, There is a big world out there....and I feel like I am not finished making my mark.  But I think the point is that we never do know.

 Life is short. Remember to take in every moment. Remember that even the small, mundane moments can become big moments. And most of all, remember that most of the time, it isn’t what we are doing in life but who we are doing it with that matters. The people....the connections are what make every moment special.

What are your moments? Do you have a bucket list? Is it hidden in a box that is collecting dust?
If so....dig it out....rediscover yourself....and start living. Life is meant to be lived full force....not quietly getting by,

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"Between big and little..."

My sweet little Bailey, 

I see you across the room.  Sitting in your chair coloring the pages in your coloring book.  I see you looking upon your task with such fury, purpose, and passion.  I see you pouring all you have into that one piece of art. How you get so excited over choosing just the right color to fill between the lines. How you bite your lip with such a look of concentration. How when you are finished with your project....you run over to me with pride shining so much from you that when you smile it reaches your eyes....with a grin you say "Look Mommy!" 

I see you on the playground.  Climbing.  Swinging.  Jumping.  Sliding.  I see you giggle as the water splashes up at you when you jump in the puddle.  I see you try to hide under the very large bridge.  I see you try to run into the green field and enter into your pretend play. I see you gazing at the larger slide....contemplating in your head whether you should take the risk. Choosing between the safer slide and the unknown fear of the larger one. Ultimately, you choose the smaller slide....over and over again...all the while looking at the large one....wondering. When right before we leave.....you climb to the top....hesitate....big breathe....and then giggle all the way down. Overcoming your fear of the unknown. 

Oh, dear sweet innocent Bailey.  I see you gaze into the distant horizon.  Looking, pondering, and mesmerized with this life.  I see you ponder all that happens around you.

I see you try to brush your own teeth.  I see you try to dress yourself.  I see you helping yourself to food from the fridge. How you step on the inside of the refrigerator and try to get sweet tea out you love so much. I see how you open the door to the laundry room all on your own and grab your favorite color juice. 

I see you.

You’re growing.  You’re growing up.  You’re growing out of your baby skin.

And then, I see you.  I see you stumble on the stairs on the front porch.  I see you skin your knee on the sidewalk.  I see you use way too much toothpaste for your own good. 

I see you.

You’re still little.  You’re still a child.  You still need help.

But, you don’t know it.  You’re somewhere caught between big and little.  You’re caught between growing up and being a baby.  You’re caught somewhere between running fast and snuggling tight.

Oh, my dear sweet innocent Bailey. How I want to sit and show you a movie of my life back in the old fashioned form, with the speckles of light and gray and white.  To show you, in life’s urgency, all the lessons there are to learn. How I want to protect you from this world.  But, instead, I sit and watch.  I see you.  Living life.  In it’s fullest.  Living life for the ups, for the downs.  And I am proud. And envious. You see my dear sweet Bailey, you teach me on a daily basis that life consists of the small joys. That running through the sprinkler is whats its about.  I fear that as you get older that I will forget to enjoy things. I cherish this moment. Somewhere between big and little.

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"How do you celebrate a life that didn't get to live?"

"Grief is strange....

It's Unpredictable.

It never fully goes away, but comes in waves that just get spaced further apart over time. 

Grief Changes...."

The Mamas who had walked a mile in my sorrow, they told me to expect the extra heart weight and heart ache on my due date…and when any of my girlfriends announced a pregnancy…and when a friend gave birth to a baby…and on the anniversary of my baby’s death.

And those sweet grieving Mamas, they were correct. All of those occasions hurt, some more than others.

But nobody prepared me for what it would feel like on the day I should have been hosting my baby’s first birthday party or the weeks leading up to it. That party would have been "should have" been in two weeks. 

If you have known me for any length of time you know I’m all about my babies’ first birthdays....or really all birthday's for that matter. Birthdays are my favorite.....it the one day out of the year that we get to celebrate your life. We get to celebrate you. But the very "1st" birthday is something special. Every other birthday is all about celebrating the child, but the FIRST birthday is about celebrating the child’s mama, too. Because we both “made it” through the first year. That first year feedings and burpings and snuggles and growing pains. All those milestones that flood life one after the other. The first birthday is a chance to celebrate all of those hard and wonderful, irrepeatable things....

Unexpectedly, this month has been full of grief for the child I lost, for the little one whose first birthday would have been in two weeks. Not being able to host a first birthday party reminds me, I suppose, of all the milestones and memories I do not share with my sweet girl…all the things we didn’t get to experience together.

It’s a strange sorrow, because even as I yearn to know and hold the baby I lost, I fully realize that my sweet baby girl is playing on the streets of Gold awaiting the day that we can play together. And so it makes my sorrow for my Little One in heaven all the more…confusing. Strange. I don’t know how else to describe it.

This last Sunday in church was our Homecoming. As a church we remember all of our past members and loved ones that have passed....and we light a candle for them. Oddly enough, I was asked to stand up front and light the candles. After all the names were read...the congregation was asked if there was anyone we had missed. In my heart I wanted to speak up and say yes....but something held back the words...and instead while standing in front of the congregation and lit a candle....a candle for the baby girl that I so longingly want to hold in my arms. 

I sat down in the pew and grief settled back in my heart. The grief that I have fought so hard to overcome. 

My sweet Bailey turned 3 a couple weeks ago.....my handsome Khristian turned 14 last week....and I was supposed to be getting ready to celebrate my 1 year old...

So how do you celebrate a life that never got to live? Do you eat cake? Do you take flowers to a grave that doesn't exist? Do you release a balloon? Do you light a candle?

I feel like I should do something...I want to celebrate her life. This is unknown territory for me....I always make a huge deal out of my children's birthday....but again, How do you celebrate a life that never got to live? 

I don't know right now....what I do know is this...

Don’t let anyone tell you when the hard times will come. Yes, it may be extra hard around the baby’s due date or anniversary of death. And then again it might not be hard for you. Either way, it is fine to feel any and every emotion that you do. But know that sometimes your grief will come and knock you over, completely by surprise. The “red-hot jab of memory” will seer your heart and consume your thoughts. And that’s okay too. Life is hard, and so is remembering the ones we’ve had to let go.

 Sweet Little One, you have my heart forever. And I miss you. 

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"You know you are my Hero, right?"

"Heroes didn't leap tall buildings or stop bullets with an outstretched hand; they didn't wear boots and capes. They bled, and they bruised, and their superpowers were as simple as listening, or loving. Heroes were ordinary people who knew that even if their own lives were impossibly knotted, they could untangle someone else's. And maybe that one act could lead someone to rescue you right back...” 


Let me talk about the man who first stole my heart for a moment....

I am not sure what the very first moment was that I fell in love with this man, maybe because I was too young to even know at the time.

When many people see this man, they see a guy in a T-shirt, jeans, and more than likely flip flops. They see a man who they assume works outside due to his sun burned cheeks and his tan line around his neck. They may notice his hands, calloused and cracked from hours of hard work. And they will most likely see his infectious smile and his want to cook for everyone he meets. But what I see when I look at him…

I see one of the only men in my life who has never lied to me, and who faithfully shows me he loves me. I see a man who taught me how to pray, watching him bow down to his knees to pray more times than I can count, never once becoming too big or too prideful to drop to his knees and ask the Lord for help. I see a man who built several businesses from the bottom up, with integrity, honesty and his own blood, sweat and tears and turned into into a successful lively-hood for not only himself, but a whole crew of guys. I see a man who has worked countless hours behind the scene to make sure everyone in his life was taken care of.  Yet you would never know it because he is too humble to speak of his accomplishments.

For as far back as I can remember, I have been a daddy’s girl. My dad, in my eyes, is the best dad a girl could ask for. When some people think of a daddy’s girl they think about a daughter and father dancing in the living room or dressing up having tea parties… Which I am sure he probably did… But that’s not what I remember...

I remember my dad coming home from working long hard hours and stopped at the store every single day to bring me home a glass bottle of Dr. Pepper...having only taken 2 small sips out of it so that he could give me the rest. I remember walking into his shop one day to discover his biggest and nicest tool box was gone....when I asked where it was he said he didn't need it anymore. Only years did I find out he sold it so that my brother and I could have Christmas. I remember sitting in the Coffee Kettle scared out of my mind...he grabbed my hand and said "I know you are pregnant." and when the tears started flowing he said "We will get through this....together....as a family." I remember the day I got married and standing outside the church with my arm in his waiting to walk down the isle and he asked me "Is this what you want? Are you truly happy?" and when I said "Yes Daddy"....he said ok and looked at me with a smile I had seen many times in my life and he said "I am proud of you." 

I remember him always making up nick names for each of us kids, which always made us feel special, and most of which still remain now even as adults. I remember the silly songs he would always sing on road trips.... To this day I can't get "Round Round Ole Joe Clark" out of my head. 

I remember being woke up at 2 AM and told to get in the van....and when I woke up we were sitting at this 50's style diner in Panama City Beach where we would always eat breakfast....and we spent the rest of the day on the beach....eating a sand filled bologna sandwich and potato chips....coming home sunburned and tired. Ice cream was always a treat on the way home. I remember as I got older, I would sit with him quietly in the kitchen, choking back a cup of coffee just so I could be like him.  I remember when I was about to step up to the start line of my 2nd marathon and I was so disappointed because he had never missed one of my big races....Him, Gina and I always say a prayer right before we start.....and as I stepped out of the bathroom he was standing there. He got up early and drove 3 hours to see me for 60 seconds before he waiting again for me to cross that finish line 4 hours later. 

I remember siting beside his hospital bed when he had open heart surgery....and Gina would go outside to get a bit of fresh air...I held his hand and when he was asleep from the pain medicine, I would repeat the same words he always told me..."We will get through this....together....as a family." 

And several, several years later....I remember walking his first Half Marathon with him....and the honor and pride I felt. I wanted to shout from the roof top "That's my Daddy!" 

And even though these are not the traditional “daddy-daughter” moments… they were our moments. They weren’t moments filled with keeping up with the Jones’, or trying to be someone he wasn’t, they were memories that I could only make with my dad. Real memories that made me love him even more.

Now that I have become a mom, I have found that my favorite part about my dad is seeing him with my kids. He is patient and kind, and never pushy. My kids know they can trust him and go to him, and he will be there without failure of a doubt. I see the way my kids look at him, and I am confident they see what I saw all of these years. A man who will always protect them, will always be truthful, and who will never judge them. He will always be their biggest fan. 

I can't pinpoint down when he started doing it....but somewhere in the last 4 to 5 years after a big race or just a moment when he hugs me he has started whispering to me "You know you are my Hero, right?" He says this me as if I have done something great...as if I am someone he looks up to. I always respond with "I love you too Daddy" .....

I honestly can tell you that I have no clue why he calls me his Hero.....when all I have ever thought was how much he was mine....

Thank you Daddy for always being there...for holding my hand....for believing in me...

You know you are my Hero, right? 

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"You can't teach that at school....."

 “Even if i'm setting myself up for failure, I think it's worth trying to be a mother who delights in who her children are, in their knock-knock jokes and earnest questions. A mother who spends less time obsessing about what will happen, or what has happened, and more time reveling in what is.... A mother who doesn't fret over failings and slights, who realizes her worries and anxieties are just thoughts, the continuous chattering and judgement of a too busy mind.... A mother who doesn't worry so much about being bad or good but just recognizes that she's both, and neither.....A mother who does her best, and for whom that is good enough, even if, in the end, her best turns out to be, simply, not bad..... ” 


So Many times, I think it has been way too long since I opened up about anything raw that I am going through present day. And my fear kicks in and I make excuses and I avoid sharing on here. I know that I have a lot to say, because I have a lot to think about. My mind never seems to stop. Let me try and see if I can explain what I am feeling....I pray the right words will come....I pray that this will ease the ever crowding thoughts in my head....and I hope you can follow....

Today is the last day of school....as I type this I am letting out a huge sigh of relief. Even if you didn't have children you would be able to look at your status feed on Facebook and guess it.... Awards Day...Honor's Programs....Graduations.....the usual bragging that little Johnny made all A Honor roll again this year with Perfect attendance. It usually lasts for about a good 2 weeks before it slacks off and the Summer posts start filling my feed. Believe me, I love seeing all the posts.....the smiling, beaming faces of parents that are so filled with pride.....the kids that are so happy that another year has come and gone...and they were successful in making good grades. Excited about the Summer of fun laid before them...Pool parties, beach trips, staying up late, hanging out with friends way after the hot blazing sun has went down, sleeping in and lazy days....Its a break from the stress and monotony of organized school days. 

It is around this time every year that I always begin to feel like a failure as a Mother....

 Allow me to explain...School is a struggle for us. School is a struggle for Khristian.....it always has been. I sit here quietly and read your status updates....and while I am proud of you and your children....I also feel a bit inadequate as a mother. Khristian is not a bad student....he is a smart kid....has amazing potential and can do anything he puts his mind to. He can retain bits of information like an encyclopedia and spit stuff out that he learned in class years ago back at you. He just doesn't like school....Organization is not his thing....and for the love of God, the child loves to talk (which frequently gets him in trouble,)

I dread the month of August every single year.....I know a new school year is about to start up and the struggle will once again begin. There have been night that I have sat at the kitchen table and cried....been frustrated....wondered what it is that I am doing wrong. There have been days when I pick up his bookbag and peek inside and find a mess of papers....I have spent a fortune in organizational materials in past years. Nothing works. School is a constant battle with him.....and by the time that May rolls around....I am physically and mentally exhausted. I have often wondered if there are other Mom's out there like me....that will never post a status stating that their child has made all A Honor Roll....that sits silently just praying for your child to pass the grade level. That lays in the bed at night after an argument with her child about a test that he obviously didn't study enough for.....and wonders what she should do differently and fears for her child's future. Fears that her past mistakes will become her son's present mistakes. I feel as though sometimes I am struggling just to keep it all together and I don't want my biggest failure in life to be that I didn't give my all to my children.

Last night these thoughts were weighing heavy on my mind before I went to sleep....after tossing and turning all night I got up and ran this morning with a sweet friend, On the way home the sun coming up behind the clouds was a beautiful sight....I pulled over and prayed. I prayed that God would
ease the heavy feeling on my heart....show me somehow that I was not a failure...that I was making a difference in my child's life. I prayed that he would help me seek new ways to deal and to have the strength to make it through another school year come August. I prayed that he would speak to Khristian's heart....to give him that drive that he needs. I prayed that he take my mine and my child's heart in his hands and mold it to what he wants it be....

I wiped the tears from eyes....pulled out on the road and drove home....and when I got to my front door....my prayer was answered.

I was met at the door by Khristian, who was weirdly already awake, with a bag of garbage being taken out. He said "Good Morning Mom....I've already cleaned the kitchen and living room for you this morning so you don't have to rush to do it.' As I said Thank you Son....I heard my sweet Bailey already awake in my bedroom watching cartoons..... I went to give her a hug and she said "My Bubby got me a juice and turned Peppa Pig on for me!"

I may not can post a facebook status about Khristian making all A's and so on.....but I could write a book about how good that childs heart is. I could tell you about how every single day in the afternoon he asks me "Mom, How was your day?" .... or the fact that he randomly will pick up the house when he sees how exhausted I am. I could tell you about how some mornings I will look in the rearview mirror and I see him holding Baileys hand.....about how since she was born and is upset, he can rub the side of her face and she calms down....and every morning when he gets out of the car for school he makes it a point to kiss me goodbye and tell Bailey to have a good day. I can tell you about the time that he heard Travis and I get into an argument and he pulled me aside the next day and made sure that I was ok and told me he loved me. I can tell you about the letter he gave me that told me I was his biggest inspiration....that I taught him to never give up on his dreams....and I could tell you about how after him and I get into an argument, several hours later he will come into my bedroom and cuddle up with me for a few minutes like he did when he was a toddler....and just sit quietly for a moment.

When I walked in the door this morning, I was reminded that I have a son that has a heart of gold.

You can't teach that at school..... :)

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"Be good. Do good...."

“What I've come to learn is that the world is never saved in grand messianic gestures, but in the simple accumulation of gentle, soft, almost invisible acts of compassion.” 

I catch myself looking, studying, absorbing the people around me. I take in their appearance and mannerisms. I follow their gaze and wonder what holds their thoughts. I wonder where they are going. I wonder if our paths will ever cross again in this big world we share. What brought them there? Work? Play? Chance? What’s their life like? Are they planning their next vacation or are they stressing over their next meal? Is he ecstatic for that promotion? Did she just get laid off from her job, the only income on which her family survives?  

There are countless faces I see everyday, never truly knowing who they are or what their day entails. Everyday, we are all given the opportunity to change someone’s life. How is up to you. That frustrated and tearful mother in the supermarket with the screaming child. Instead of casting judgement and disdain for the mild inconvenience her toddler may have caused you, offer words of encouragement. “I’ve been there. It gets better.” The panhandler, begging ‘anything helps’. Many scoff, saying “get a job!” Maybe he’s one of the many veterans who have returned home and found themselves unemployed and homeless. 

This morning, I had to make a quick stop in at the grocery store.....while I was standing there in the baby isle with my sweet Bailey I couldn't help but to over hear a conversation a young girl was having on her cell phone. She couldn't have been no  more than about 17 or 18....with a young baby on her hip. I am not sure who she was speaking with...but she was explaining to the person that she had to buy diapers and wipes for daycare and put gas in her car so she could get back and forth to work....and she had a $20.00 bill in her hand...that's all she had. I could hear the desperation in her voice....and the tears threatening to spill over in her eyes. It instantly took me back to when I, myself, was an 18 year old single mom with a small baby boy on my hip...having to make that same choice. Only to get up the register and still not have enough money to buy the diapers and formula. I was 3 dollars shy of having the total amount due.

I can remember standing there, voice cracking, tears welling up in my eyes as I tried to figure out what to do. Then I felt a warm hand being placed over mine and looking up to an older gentleman handing me a $20.00 bill and saying "Here you go young lady....get what you need." I couldn't hold back the tears any longer and I thanked him profusely....He told me not to mention it....that he just wanted to help. I vowed that if I ever saw him again...I would pay him back and let him know just how much is act of kindness and compassion meant to a struggling teenage mother. I still haven't gotten that chance.

While I was standing there listening to this young girls conversation, I couldn't help myself. As she ended her phone call, I asked her what size diapers she needed. She looked at me like I had 2 heads....but told me that she needed a size 2. I grabbed a huge box of size 2 diapers and a box of wipes off the bottom shelf, grabbed Baileys hand...and told the young girl to follow me to the cash register. After I paid for the items, I handed them to her. It was then that I saw the same face I must have had 12 years ago looking back at the older gentleman. She had tears in her eyes and she thanked me profusely. I told her that no thanks was needed....to just remember this moment later in life...and return the favor for someone else.

 My point here isn’t to hand over all your cash to the next panhandler you see. The point is, you run across dozens of people everyday. You don’t know their background. You don’t know the troubles they face. You don’t know how they ended up where they are today.  Sadly, it seems our first instinct is to judge when it should be to LOVE. More often than not, all that is needed to change someone’s day for the better is a few kind words. We possess the ability to leave a lasting impression on any one person, why not take that opportunity to be compassionate rather than bitter? 

I don't know this girls background....I don't know her story. I don't need to. I just did what I felt like I needed to in my heart. 

Our society has become stricken by violence....by greed. Where in the decades past have we forgotten what it is to be cordial to one another?   We are consumed with materialism and technology. Hate and slander obtruding into our minds on a daily basis through media. What have we become that our priorities do not lie as a Nation Under God, but in removing Him from the establishments in which we need him most! Civility and compassion has become an after thought when it should be second nature. 

Whenever you find it your heart to show mercy, know that you are doing as you were called to do. We are all here for a specific purpose . Let it not be the cause of someone else’s pain.

Be good. Do good. 

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