Healing is… Messy. Ugly. Embarrassing. Because one must break and let all of what is rotting inside out. Crying on the closet floor. Saying words that are coated with bitterness and resentment. Voicing the deepest, darkest thoughts, that are buried so far down light never hits, out loud. Bringing out the worst in a person. … More Healing is…
A broken home. We all have described divorce this way. Yes. Even me. Maybe we thought since the marriage was unable to thrive, therefore, the family that was made is damaged and broken. Maybe we think we know how the divorce came about so we assume we know how the family unit looks. Broken. Cracked. … More My children are not growing up in a “broken” home
I don’t love motherhood. Not every day. Not every hour. Not every minute. It takes so much out of me. Demands all of me. It is exhausting. It is overwhelming. It is all consuming. I don’t love the endless laundry and cleaning. But I do love teaching my sons how to be responsible and contribute … More I don’t love motherhood
Mama. The whispered voice is heard coming from my open bedroom door. My seven year old walks over to me, sweating and pale. Mama. I just threw up. I push the warm covers off and sit up, wrapping my arms around him. I get him cleaned up and settled back into my bed. I am … More The loneliness of single motherhood
Sunday wasn’t the best day for our little family. April was pretending to be January. My children thought 6:30 am was a good time to play, shout, and wrestle on my bed. I was (and still am) in limbo with my medication transition and my sleep, patience, and nerves were lacking. My four year old … More A bad Sunday doesn’t make me a bad mom
I knew motherhood was going to be hard. I read about it. I heard about it. I saw it. All around me. I prepared myself as best as possible and then I was going to just learn as I go. Today, I am still winging it. More now than in the past six years. I … More Loving my strong willed child
Pride. A word that has many meanings. A feeling or deep pleasure derived from one’s own achievements. The consciousness of one’s own dignity. The quality of having an excessively high opinion of oneself or one’s importance. The last sentence. The last sentence is true for me. I held myself up to a higher standard. I … More Swallowing My Pride
I love you. Three words I use everyday. I tell my family when I see them or talk to them. My boys hear me say it approximately a gazillion times a day. That is not an exaggeration either. But up until my separation, I had a difficult time telling my friends I love you. I … More When I say, I love you
Lovely in the Dark 