A New School Year Brings a New Opportunity for Gratitude

I feel it is necessary to start this blog post by addressing my lack of writing over the summer.  I find it difficult to find my creativity during the summer: I become uninspired when the heat outside is oppressive, I experience a serious dip in productivity, and to be honest, I become a fairly grumpy person.  (Yes, I am working on that – I know grumpy is not a good look).  It is still hot outside and shows no signs of letting up anytime soon, but I have gone back to work and that has given me the spark I needed to get back to the craft of blog writing. 

And my work is where I want to start.  I work in an elementary school.  And over the past few weeks as we have prepared for students and conquered our first week of school being in session, I have been overwhelmed by the number of things that have popped into my head as ideas for blog posts.  But I want to start with my favorite subject: gratitude.

I have been bombarded in the last few weeks with moments that have brought gratitude bubbling to the surface in my heart.  There are the easy ones: that I have a job, that I work with an amazing group of people, or that I get to be close to my own children throughout the day.  But there are some moments in an elementary school that come at me subtly, quietly, and without any fanfare.  They happen organically and quickly; and they can easily pass me by without an understanding of their power in the moment. 

These are the moments that I reflect on at the end of the day.  These are the moments that I remember when I realize that while I am exhausted, I am not empty.  These are the moments that keep me filled up and ready to pour out all the love and energy that somehow is being replenished without notice. 

It is the second grader who stops every time he sees me to give me a hug.  It is the third grader who replies to my queries with “school is awesome”.  It is the co-workers who smile at 7:15 every morning even though it has been crazy hectic at their house since 4 am.  It is all the kindergarten students who are so excited about learning activities that it shows on their tiny cherub faces.  It is first graders who look so big since the last time I saw them in May.  It is fourth graders who are coming into their own, really stretching their personalities, embracing their last year of elementary school.  It is moms and dads who wear a look of trust and peace on their faces because they know that leaving their children at our school will not only bring to their babies an education from books, but also life skills and love; so much love.  It is the electric atmosphere that occurs when so many talented educators come together to help create a brighter future for hundreds of growing minds. 

It is every single moment that fills my days for which I am grateful.  Because, truth be told, I get so much more from my job than I could ever give to it.  And that fact is not lost on me.  I am filled with gratitude for all those moments and for all the people, grown and growing, that I get to spend my days with.   

It is my intention that my gratitude will be evident in all that I do, for this school year and beyond.  It is my intention that I pay attention to how blessed I am to be where I am and that recognition of my personal blessings will spill over so that I may be a blessing to others.  So, for my first blog post back from hiatus, I really only have one thing to say; and that is THANK YOU!   

Alec Calls it Camp: I Call it a Learning Experience....For Mom

A couple of days ago it was Family Day at the camp that Alec is currently attending.  Before I tell you about Family Day, let me tell you about how the schedule is set up at this camp.  The campers arrive on a Sunday.  The following Saturday is Family Day and then the campers have two more weeks of camp, sans family visits.  All alone with people they have just met.  At least for the new campers, the ten year olds, they are people they have just met. 

When I dropped my oldest child, my first-born son, off at camp it went something like this: he went with his cabin coach to unpack and change clothes while the boys and I waited, he returned in his camp uniform, bouncing across the campground like a spring that has been waiting for an eternity to finally be sprung, he hugged me, looked up and said “bye”.   Um, that’s it?  Seriously? 

This momma had a hard time with this one.  Much like on his first day of kindergarten when he looked over at me, my face full of worried anticipation of the separation tantrum that was to occur in three….two…one……and then this – “Are you still here?”  Yep, I expected that my child, my first-born, who had never even been in daycare, would exhibit at least a small amount of trepidation about his first-ever school day.  I was wrong.  It was foreshadowing: a glimpse into how it would go down when I dropped him off at camp five years later. 

I am not sure why I build these things up in my mind to be so much more than they are ever going to be.  I don’t know why in these particular moments, when I have to release my child, my first-born, to the care of others, I expect that he will rebel or fight to stay with his mommy, or at least freaking whimper.  But he does not.  He goes into new experiences unafraid and without a fight.  He is not an alpha male by any means, but he is not afraid to give things a try either. 

Fast forward to Family Day.  When Alec turned to see me and his brothers standing on the campground, he was instantly in my arms, tears flowing.  His words told me that he was happy to see me; but his eyes betrayed the truth: he wanted to come home; he’d had enough of this camp business and was ready to return to the familiarity of family and long days of arguing with his brothers.  He wanted his mom and he wanted his house and his bed and he wanted his normal routine.  He wanted so much to be back in College Station, back in the familiar reality that requires no courage, where excitement does not wane at the end of the day when there is nothing left to do, where he belongs.

Alec and I made a commitment to this camp: it is an invitation-only camp and by accepting his invitation, Alec took a spot at camp that could have been taken by another boy.  We, together, discussed this many times in the weeks preceding camp, and we, together, decided to make a commitment.  At that moment I know that he wanted more than anything in the world to break his commitment.  He just wanted home.  But that is not how we do things.  That is not who I am raising my son to be. 

I never entertained the idea of letting him come home with me that day and I am so glad that I didn’t.  During my time at Family Day I spoke to the wonderful lady who, along with her husband, runs the camp.  She knew that Alec was feeling homesick and that he had been for several days.  But she made it clear to me that his homesickness was only in his down time.  She made it clear to me that during every other moment of every day, whether he felt sad or not, he put his head down and did what he was supposed to do; he did what the coaches asked, he participated fully in every activity, he was a committed camper.  He was exactly who I am raising my son to be.

It was hard to say goodbye to him when we left the camp that day.  But it was not hard to enjoy the pride I felt in my son and the way that he is showing his character every single day at that camp.  The way he is charging ahead, doing what he committed to do and enjoying it even though he sometimes feels overwhelming homesickness, the way he is handling himself in a difficult situation makes me proud.  And hopefully it makes him proud too.  Hopefully this is an experience that will teach him that even when you temporarily don’t like it anymore, even when it is so much easier to pack up and go home, even when giving up seems like a viable option because your mom is standing there and she could give you a ride home; it is still possible to see things through to the end and to fully honor your commitments. 

That night I got a call from the man who runs that camp with his wife.  He called to let me know that though it was hard for Alec to see us drive away, and there were some tears, Alec had stepped up to the plate, dried his eyes and fully re-engaged in the camp activities, and that he was happy and doing amazing.  He called to thank me for sharing my son with him and his camp; for allowing them the time to get to know Alec and to see what a great kid he is.  He called to commend Alec and to thank me for not pulling him out of camp, for choosing instead to honor our commitment.

The thing is this: my boys never cease to amaze me.  Just when I thought I have Alec all figured out and I know exactly what to expect from him, he pulls a fast one on me.  He exhibits independence that leaves me in awe; he feels sadness so deep that it brings him to tears and then he turns right around and shows what he is truly made of.   My Alec, my child, my first-born; what an amazing young man he is turning out to be.   

So Many Thoughts and Feels - It's Hard to Keep it Cohesive

Okay, so here comes some more information on the same thought train (sort-of; this one derails a little bit) as the last couple of posts.  In the beginning of the life of this blog I made mention of the fact that I did not know for sure what the purpose of this writing for public consumption exercise was for me.  I just knew then that it would be important.  Well, some of the answers are starting to come out.  And one of those answers is that the blog has been a catalyst for the information-seeking path that I have been on lately regarding my own personality and for the choices that I make in my life.

I am learning more every day and I am sharing here as a way to not only share with readers that may or may not know me and may or may not glean any use from the words, but also as a way to assimilate and process the information that is constantly running through my brain. By taking the time to type it out I am assisting my own processing activity, thereby making all of this knowledge useful and applicable.  Thanks for coming along with me; perhaps together we can sort some things out.  Or you can make the choice to slowly back away from the crazy that can be Nikki; you have free will, I promise I will understand.    

It was this soul searching that reminded me that while I do not believe in giving up on people I also do not believe in giving more of you than another person is willing to accept.  Once you get caught in that unbalanced sort of relationship, I see very little good that can come of it.  So I find myself retracting some earlier statements about the possibility of specific fractured fairy tales coming true.  I find myself with a renewed understanding of the complexities and dangers of hurried relationships.  And I am reminded that a red flag is just a red flag, a little hiccup if you will, until the hiccups keep you up or cause even a restless mind to spin out of control with frustration.  Self-preservation says walk away; so away I walk.  We all put effort and/or energy into those things that we see as a priority and I am too valuable to ever be somebody’s post-script.  

On a related note, I will mention that it is probably a cause for pause when you have entered into a sort of relationship with a new acquaintance that could be considered a sort of dating yet you continue to be drawn to the presence of another.  In simple terms I mean that if you want to date the guy you just met, perhaps you should be sure that there aren't still other guys who cause you to need to catch your breath and/or stare inappropriately at every given opportunity. My energy has definitely been pointed in a very different direction for some time now. Apparently even attractive distractions are not enough for me. I am either going to get what I want or I am going to wait.  I'm cool with that.      

And on another related note, I never said that all of my choices and actions are rational or appropriate in nature; I have only claimed to live honestly and genuinely.  That much I can definitely do; anyone who has ever been around me for more than five minutes or had a personal-in-nature-conversation with me can testify to that much; but rational and appropriate are still in the works.  Or have been discarded as unlikely possibilities.  Or they were never really considered in the first place.  Whatever. 

Oh, and if I am angry or upset I will walk away for a spell.  Please just let me.  It does not mean that I do not wish to communicate or to solve the problem.  It means that the emotional part of me is winning over the logical part of me and I don’t want to say or do something that I cannot defend later.  I don’t like to speak from a place of negative emotion because I find them to be temporary and liars and I would just as soon not entertain negativity like that.  I will always revisit an argument or a discussion when it is appropriate to do so; so long as I have been given an opportunity to think first.  

There was a time when I was told often that drunk people show their true emotions; that given enough alcohol to decrease inhibitions a person would act and speak in a way that is most representative of their true selves and of their true feelings.  Yeah, not so much.  That is just a big old load of wrong.  Drunk people, just like emotionally-charged people may sometimes act out their truest feelings.  But it is far more likely that given sobriety or the chance to process and to calm down, their inhibitions and rational thinking will prevent them from acting in a way that their unaltered minds are smart enough to prevent.  I can act like an idiot whenever I want, I don’t need alcohol or a fight to show you who I “really” am; all that negative emotions and alcohol are ever going to show you is the part of me that I am typically strong enough and smart enough to tame.

Life is a constant battle for everyone to tame the parts of themselves that they do not want to let out of the cage.  This is not being disingenuous or fake; it is being a human adult with consideration, compassion, and courtesy for the others that surround them.  Having parts of ourselves that we have to battle at times is what keeps us on our toes; it is what helps us to determine who we really want to be; and it helps us to show the world the person we are working daily to become.  Winning or losing those battles will help determine your paths and will help prioritize your relationships and it will show you where and how you need to focus your energy.  

I will try very hard not to fight when it is not the time and I will try very hard to present the best me that I can at all times.  But I will not claim to be a constant master of my own emotions. That would be a lie.  But if you ever see me lose it, if you are witness to a tragic moment where my logic takes a dive and lets emotion win; please forgive me.  I am human.  I am logical and I am emotional.  And I am fallible.

But I promise I am still awesome.  Just hang in there, you’ll see. 

Continue on This Introspective Journey With Me....It Will Explain Some Things

In my last post I talked about how I see all the possibilities in situations and how I tend to fall in love with one particular possibility.  Let me continue here with some more information about the way my brain works.  I have been spending some time trying to understand the complexities of the ways that I feel, think, react, and expect as I go through my daily life.  I have spent time learning about my strengths and about my personality type.  It is all fascinating stuff to me.  And I have stumbled upon some enlightening facts. 

Let’s start with some nuggets of knowledge about Nikki:

I am 50% left-brained and 50% right-brained.  Yep, I am weird.

I am an INFJ on the personality instrument which is based on Jung’s and Briggs-Meyer’s approach to personality.  This particular type is found in 1% to 3% of the population.  Yep, weird again; though I really like the word unique better.

My five greatest strengths (according to one particular indicator) are: Learner, Input, Intellection, Belief, and Connectedness.  This means, in very basic terms, that the process of learning is appealing to me, I like to collect and archive information, I am introspective and I enjoy intellectual conversation, I have unchanging core values that define the purpose of my life, and that I believe in the connectedness of all things, that coincidences are rare, and every occurrence in life has a definite purpose.

Other testing mechanisms have highlighted high levels of empathy, analytical thinking, and strategic planning as strengths that I possess.   

I am equally strong in the linguistic (word smart) and intrapersonal (myself smart) learning styles, followed closely by equally logical (number smart) and interpersonal (people smart).  

And now for some more nuggets that are not based on anything other than my knowledge of myself:

I speak often of my tendency to exhibit contradictory actions and thoughts.  I am always aware of my contradictions, and I am always aware of a logical or an emotional reason for them. 

I do not like surprises.  To me a surprise is a failure on my part to expect a possibility, a failure to pick up on clues that were shown to me through other’s words or actions, or a failure to consider things from a different perspective.  If you manage to surprise me, I will see it as a personal failure and I won’t like it. 

I think.  All. The. Time.  My brain does not stop.  I rarely worry, but I am always thinking.  Always. It is part of what helps me to expect all possibilities and it is part of what causes me to feel some degree of disappointment in reality when it does not meet expectation.

I often feel more deeply for other people’s struggles and triumphs than I do for my own.  I rarely cry about or really celebrate the things that are happening in my life.  But I will shed many a tear over the trials and successes of someone else’s life.  Stories of love and courage hit me deeply, but I find it difficult to apply that sort of intensity to the things that happen in my own life.

I can script conversations perfectly on paper or in my head, but when it comes to verbalizing those exact conversations, I will mess it up every time.  I tend to use a lot of disclaimers because I feel a need to explain myself while simultaneously explaining my opinion or thoughts. Most conversations I have with others leave me feeling like the person I was talking to didn't really get what I was saying and it is because they don’t truly get me.     

When there is something I really want I can be very hesitant to just go for it.  This is especially true in my relationships with other people.  It is not that I have a fear of rejection, because I really don’t.  I have a healthy understanding that not all humans will love or like each other with mutual intensity.  It is more that I am hesitant to have reality break apart my vision of how it could be.  As long as it remains my personal vision I can control it; the minute I allow another person to have input it has changed, for better or for worse.  The part that causes me trepidation is the “for worse” possibility; some visions are just so beautifully crafted that they become hard to let go of.  This is why I can have a crush on one person for months without ever acting on it.  And this is why I can want to cultivate a friendship but not know how exactly to do it.  So if I ever openly seek your attention, please know that it is being sought with a huge helping of courage on my part.  Try not to squash too hard if that is your choice of action.  And try not to over-think my terms of affection; I like the words I love you and I like to use nick names; that’s just Nikki. 

Being half dreamer and half logical thinker is exhausting.  There is a constant logic vs. emotion battle happening inside me.  Sometimes the brain wins and sometimes the heart wins.  When the brain wins, the heart feels ignored and unloved.  When the heart wins, the brain points out all the reasons why the choice is flawed and doomed to fail.  At the same time, my creativity can be highly practical and my practicality can be highly creative, which makes me….weird, or unique, or awesome; yes, it makes me awesome.  That is one of my favorite words so let’s just stick with that one.

I can be obnoxious in my confidence and self-love and still always fight the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I am not doing enough.  I don’t ever struggle with thoughts of not being good enough.  I know I am good enough.  But am I doing enough?  That is the tiny little thorn in my brain that keeps the wheels turning all the time.  It also leads to occasional stagnation because I am so concerned about whether what I am doing is enough that I get bogged down and stop doing at all.  This one is a vicious cycle that I need to spend some more time learning about so that I can address it. 

Now that this post has exceeded its intended word limit, I will stop here and pick back up next time.  By then I am sure my never-ceasing thoughts will have come up with so much more to add.  Until then, dear reader, goodbye and I love you.    

You See Puppies. I See Endless Ways to Fall in Love.

So, imagine this with me if you will.  You are presented with a box of puppies.  They are all adorable and precious, have sweet puppy breath, and your heart practically melts at the sight of them.  Here’s what you know: you have the opportunity to spend some time with the puppies so that you can learn their personalities, you will eventually be presented with one of the puppies to keep and love forever, but, and here’s the catch, you will not be able to choose the puppy you keep; it will be chosen for you and you cannot exchange the puppy once it has been given.

So, what do you do?  You hop in the puppy crate and start playing, of course.  You learn that some are face-lickers, some are very rough, some are extremely timid, some are hyper and some sleep the entire time you are trying to connect with them.  While many of the puppies are wonderful and you think they would make excellent companions, some are not gelling with you at all and would never make you happy.

Eventually the inevitable happens: you fall in love with one particular puppy.  That is the puppy for you.  You want it more than all the others, you have already given it a name, and you have visions of days spent in the park and at the lake, wasting the hours running and playing. 

This is dangerous territory.  You fell in love with one, but you have never been guaranteed that one.  There are others that you would like, but you love that one already, and he isn’t even yours yet.  The deal wasn’t to choose the puppy you loved; the deal was to become familiar with the puppies and then someone or something else would make the choice for you. 

What happens if you are presented with the puppy that bites?  Or the puppy that licks your face relentlessly even though you hate it?  Or the puppy that is so hyper you cannot stand it? 

What happens when your dream of frolicking in the park becomes a nightmare of training, obedience classes, special diets, and midnight face-licking sessions?  Or, what happens when you are presented with one of the puppies that you liked, but did not fall in love with?  What happens when reality does not exactly match your desire? 

This is how my mind works.  Every single situation, circumstance, or interaction in my life is a mixed box of puppies.  Except my puppies are possible outcomes and I see them all.  It is one of my strengths: I always imagine every possible outcome so I am rarely shocked at what happens and I am prepared for any possibility.  This is a good thing. 

This is also dangerous territory.  I fall in love every single day, over and over again.  Not with puppies, and not necessarily with people; but with ideas.  I fall in love with one of the hundreds of possible outcomes.  More often than not, my in-love brain will pin more expectation on that one idea than it should.  While I have thought of everything, I have invested in a very small portion of the overall possibilities. 

So, while I am rarely shocked, I am often disappointed.  I do not linger in disappointment, though.  Fortunately, because my brain never stops, I just start the cycle all over again, re-imagining the new possibilities and preparing for the new outcomes, falling in love anew with the plot twist that changed the story. 

This, too, is strength.  There is nothing that has ever brought me down and kept me there.  And there is nothing that has ever surprised me enough to leave me unable to react.  Sometimes it hurts to lose the perfect expectation to the imperfect realities of life, but more often than not, the new possible combinations are more desirable than before the wrench was thrown into the mix.

At the end of the day I will always be in love with something that has yet to happen; I will always have ideas that are boundless in their possibilities; and I will always be prepared to react to any contingency.  It may take a long time for me to fully understand the intricacies of the way this mind of mine works, and that is alright with me.  The way I see it; the way my brain sees it; the possibilities are endless and I will always be in love with something beautiful.

I can live with that.     

There Aren’t Any Intermissions in This Play

There are many different directions a woman’s life can go after divorce.  Some are self-destructive.  Some are lonely.  Some are inspiring.  Some make no sense to anyone but her.  Some include impossible ideals, fairy tales even, of what life will be like some day.  Being who I am, I chose all of the above.  It took a long time for my life to become torn into tiny little pieces, hardly recognizable as belonging to me.  So it only makes sense that it took a long time and many paths to put all of those pieces back together again. 

First there was the self-destructive.  I don’t like to spend a lot of time reminiscing on that particular period of my life.  It was embarrassing, out of control, and frankly quite ridiculous considering the amount of smarts I was blessed with. 

Then there was the lonely.  See, when you hit rock bottom and make changes such as no longer hanging out in bars, you find out that most, if not all of your friends were not really friends; they were just drinking buddies.  Remove the drinking; lose the buddy; which is actually a good thing because I was not distracted from doing the work that I needed to do.   

I call one path inspiring because that was the brain tumor period of my life.  That was when I was unafraid to face a scary thing and I won.  That was when God showed me exactly how much spunk he had built into me and when I finally started figuring out how to harness it and use it for good. 

And there was a period that probably makes no sense to anyone who was not in my shoes.  I felt a strange alone-ness without loneliness.  I felt suspended in the never-ending consequences of my own bad choices.  I was slowly tying up the loose ends of a frayed woman who just wanted to be whole again.  I was slowly polishing the harsh jaded look I had been wearing, patiently trying to rediscover the loving heart that lived underneath.  I was trying to find every last little piece of me, and while I did not want to put myself back together in the form that I once was, I wanted every shred of my life experience available in my heart and in my memory; reminders of how far back from oblivion it is possible to travel. 

During all of these periods I did one thing consistently: I built an imaginary fairy-tale.  (I am totally talking about men here, in case that is not sufficiently implied).  I convinced myself of how things would be and dedicated myself to accepting nothing less than the perfection of my make-believe eventual reality.  Perhaps this was a defense mechanism that worked by setting an impossible standard that could never be met and therefore could never distract me from my path.  Perhaps this was the result of me finally realizing the worth that resides inside this body, heart, and mind of mine.  I am aware that my self-love sometimes borders on (or comes crashing across) a line of obnoxiousness.  I make no apologies.  I have learned that self-love is far better that self-loathing and I will never apologize for who I am now.  And I firmly believe that any person with a significant place in my life should recognize, embrace, and appreciate my awesomeness.   

And now, now that so many different phases have been completed and so many pieces of me have been polished to a brilliant shine, I find that the fairy tale is no longer necessary.  I find that I am okay with the way that things are turning out and the way that things are happening.  I do not need nor do I want a knight in shining armor to come rescue me from whatever evil villain is currently playing opposite me on my stage.  I do not need things to happen exactly the way my imagination scripted it in order to be happy.  All I really need is genuineness, honesty, and faith in the lines.

Whether it is a frog or a prince that is cast opposite me, I will take the script changes as they come, adapting as needed.  And if an exit is needed, I will carefully exit stage left with no looking back.  And if it turns out that I will be on stage with the same co-star for some time to come, I will do so cheerfully, accepting both him and myself as we are; regardless of whether our time on stage consists of forgotten lines and tripping over costumes, or of brilliant performances.       

All of this leads up to this: I recently met a new co-star.  And while we may still be in dress rehearsals, there is a part of me that sees a potential for brilliant performances.  Maybe that is just the romantic in me that wrote fairy tales to begin with.  Maybe it is the result of a true connection.  Maybe it is eternal optimism, which is not such a bad thing.  I don’t yet have all the answers.    

I spoke about this with a friend I love and respect very much.  She calls it not a fairy tale, but a fractured fairy tale.  Hearing those words, and understanding that it may not be what was imagined and may be a little broken apart from the original expectation, it can still be a fairy tale.  After all, authors of compelling stories must be willing to follow the plot line to the end, right?

And I am really looking forward to seeing where this particular plot line takes me.    

Mother's Day

I have made a choice to refrain from reading the plethora of written words that are out there today about Mother’s Day.  I knew that I wanted to write on the topic and I did not want outside influences to creep into my own words as I pen my thoughts and feelings on the subject of mothers.  

Let’s start at the beginning.  I come from a line of women who are strong, stubborn, beautiful, generous, loyal, and practically unshakable.  I come from a direct line of two women, my Granny and my Mom, who have consistently provided an example of what it means not only to be a woman, but especially what it means to be a mother.

Granny – your loving, giving, and persistent spirit have been a life-long goal to which I have always aspired.  I don’t know if you ever think about your legacy, but I can promise you that it will be one to be proud of.  You have lived your life with a selflessness that is refreshing and beautiful.  Knowing that it is your blood that runs through my veins is an honor that I hold dear to my heart.  On this Mother’s Day I hope that you count your triumphs in the countless ways you have touched, shaped, and loved every person blessed enough to know you.

Mom – I don’t know that there are words in the English language that are adequate to describe the way that I feel about having you as a mother.  There are times that I truly believe that God showed me favor over others by delivering me specially to your womb.  Regardless of any trial that came with being my mom for the past 39 years, you have remained steadfastly the most amazing woman I have ever known.  Your quietly loyal, loving, supportive and understanding approach to life has given me the strength that I have needed to tackle every obstacle that has come my way.  I can look in the mirror today and feel pride at the woman I have become; the credit for that lies considerably in your hands.  You have loved and nurtured me through chaos, bad judgment, pain, joy, failure, and success without ever blinking an eye or wavering in your love.  For that I will be eternally grateful and I will continue to count you as one of the greatest blessings of my life.  

And then there’s me as a mom.  There are a lot of emotions that I feel when I think about my designation as a mother.  The first and most powerful is always gratitude.  I don’t know much about God’s plan for my entire life, but I do know without question that He must really love me to allow me to be the woman that Alec, Chris, Colin, and Nick call Mom.  No other relationship or circumstance in my life will ever compare to the precious blessing that is being their mommy.  

While it is truly the hardest thing I have done or will ever do, it is also the single most rewarding. There is no comparison to the depth of feelings that spring from my heart when interacting with, watching, talking to, listening to, and loving my boys on a daily basis.  I take my responsibilities as a mother seriously and I question myself and my choices often.  Not that I am not confident that I am doing my best, it’s more that I understand the importance of helping to shape such beautiful lives and I want to do the very best that I can.  I want God to look down at the work I am doing here with my boys and I want Him to feel pride in his daughter; I want him to know that through His love I am delivering back to Him four gorgeous souls.  They are only mine for a short time, but they will always be His. 

I have been given a tremendous ability to love.  From people I barely know to those who reside within the same walls, I love many people very deeply and often very quickly.  There could be a million different ways that I could distribute all of my love back into this world.  I am abundantly grateful that one of the ways I get to distribute my love is through four healthy, unique, and amazing little boys.  I hope that I perform my duties in a way that leads them to one day reflect on their mom and feel the way I feel when I reflect on mine.  They may never know that regardless of how much they love me and are thankful for me, it will always pale in comparison to the way I feel about each and every one of them.  But I can promise you this: they will always know that I love them infinitely and unconditionally.  

I am not a perfect mother.  But I feel a perfect love for four magnificent boys.  

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you beautiful ladies out there.  You are doing an incredible job.