Notes to My Loves

A balm to a wounded heart or a verbal lashing to a tender one. Carefully crafted to be both inspiring and intentional they propel us to accomplish the seemingly impossible.  They are equally prideful and powerful. They can be both honorable or hateful. Calculating and cutting, they have the power to shred us. Witty and wonderful, they make our souls laugh and our hearts smile. Compassionate and carefully woven or quick tempered and flaring, they leave their mark. Quietly uttered or clanging, they are remembered. Poetic and powerful, they nestle in our hearts. Beautiful and buoyant, they are a beckoning beacon of hope. Words. Spoken by 7 billion people all over the world . We absorb them in poems. We devour them in prose. We cherish them in songs that we listen to over and over again. We buy them in cards that line the shelves on any given Tuesday. We connect to them even though they were not written by our own hand. A stranger's thoughts that mirror our own. A stranger'

There are times in our lives that we get the right picture. We capture the precise moment when something wonderful is happening. The focus is there. The lighting is absolutely National Geographic quality. Perhaps it is the award winning smile of a little cub scout getting a trophy for his first Pinewood Derby win. Maybe it is the the high note on a brass trumpet for a fifth grade ensemble, or the smile of the sweetest little girl belting out her first holiday concert in a smart red plaid skirt. These times are snapshots of our lives. They are the events that weave the fabric of our hearts. A fabric that will keep us warm long after those days are over. We can look back over those pictures and remember the moment. They bring us back to where we were when we shot that image. They allow us the ability to time travel with both our hearts and minds.  These images allow us to relive times that brought much joy and happiness in a world that is often swallowing us with sorrow and grief.

      A 'silver lining'.  The belief that even in the darkest of circumstances there is a positive outcome that will make everything better. Often when we deal with obstacles or events that just didn't go the way we planned, we cling to this proverb.     However, in this life of ours here on earth, sometimes there isn't one. There is no light shining down from the dark clouds. There is nothing silver. There is no light. There is just darkness. There is just grief. There is overwhelming sadness and confusion.  The questions bombard our brains with no answers that make sense of loss. A loss so deep that time doesn't really heal it at all. It just makes the pain throb less.      Sometimes it seems that the world is just a tad off kilter. Kind of like the lens of a camera that is just not quite in focus. A picture that is slightly out of focus and crooked no matter how many times you try to right it.      I see it in the news. I read online. But today, it hit my h

The other night, little sister came proudly into the kitchen, placed her foot upon the table and asked me, "Mommy do you know what this is?" I paused, as if it was a trick question....thought about reminding her of proper table manners and then said, "Um....it looks like a purple flower you drew on your foot with marker." After a long sigh, she replied, "No Mommy, it is my IMAGINATION!" That was it. A trick question indeed and with it she captivated me. That simple word has been floating around in my head ever since. For many of us, our imaginations have long since gone silent. We can't remember what it was like at 3 1/2 to make up stories, and songs, or dare to dream. We have long since silenced the stick ponies that were ridden down the hardwood hallways clomping all the way. Our days and nights become synonymous with the old "Time to make the doughnuts" commercial. We feel the drudgery, we hear the background music to "Groundho

In T minus 3 sleeps I will begin another year of teaching. This year marks number 17. I can't believe that it has been that long since I first stepped into a classroom of my own. I remember how nervous I was being hired on the night before school started. It seems like so long ago,  yet in many regards it is still so fresh and new. I still get those first day of school jitters. I haven't been able to sleep well in the last week and I am sure that it is due to my mind reeling with what I want this year to look like. What I want to accomplish. What I hope to inspire in my students. My room is ready. The physical needs have been met with a few days of prepping and help from my mom and dad who are expert movers when it comes to unpacking boxes. The bulletin boards are color coordinated and the books are neatly on the bookshelf, for now.  The walls are ready for the work of those who will inhabit this space with me. The walls are waiting to be covered in things far more colorfu

      M otherhood is filled with tasks. Tasks that we were told about long before we ever held our precious babies in our arms. Talks we were given to from those who were older, wiser, and had navigated the rapids of parenting small children. Then there were tasks that we just have to learn on our own. Our "on the job training" if you will. From swaddling newborns to nursing night time fevers, from making the mad dash to the closest bathroom during potty training to getting all the necessary supplies for that first day of school. There is no handbook for these tasks. And often they are overlooked by those that are older and wiser. They are the small tasks. The ones that go unspoken. I could go on and on regarding such tasks. They are never ending and we, those of us in the trenches, know all to well the table of contents of which I am referring to. But this post isn't about those tasks. For we all have them. Instead I want to talk about the balancing of one's life wh

      S ometimes we all need to get away. We need to leave everything behind and take a breath, or two, or three. We need to readjust our perspective on those things  which are really important. This is not easy in the lives we lead. The lives filled with demands, responsibilities, and expectations. However, right now I am away. I was blessed to be given the gift of time. Time away from all that usually makes it hard for me to think. I am refueling my tank and taking time to process. I am breathing deeply and working on finding clarity.      While here I have visited with old friends. Friends who knew me long before I was a mother. Friends who I have no reason to try to impress. Friends who remember when life was far less complicated and demanding. Friends who listen and share in the same struggles of motherhood. It is a fold that I belong to. A fabric of who I am to have these friendships that have stood the test of time and distance. Picking up right where we left off the last time

W hat are you drawn to? What pulls at the inner magnet of your heart? What calms your soul? Recently I have been finding myself drawn to things that I always have been, yet asking the question WHY? What is it about these things that soothe me? What inner mechanism makes me pulled to these images like a beacon of the soul? A magic magnet that was knit long that is rooted so deeply within that it is a constant pull of peace. For example, why is it that  when I look at pictures like this I feel at home?  I did not grow up living on the water. I did not go to the sea each summer and frolic in the sand as a girl. What is it that pulls my heart to pictures like this and makes my mind stop racing and my breathing slow. What is it about this image that calls to my inner soul and tells me that there is more than the repetitive living that I am experiencing today with the dreary skies and piles of laundry that are beckoning to be put away.       And what about those people in our lives that

  R ecently, on one of my many Pinterest binges I came across a quote that stopped me in my tracks. It was simple, yet profound. Here it is.      This got me thinking about all the insecurities that we are challenged with. The ones that are loud and clanging in our ears like a brass gong, or perhaps they are the ones that gently whisper not so nice nothings. Either way they are simply annoying.      Here is Exhibit A: The insecurity that makes taking a compliment hard for us. The coworker who tells us that they like our new shirt, or shoes, or necklace, or whatever paraphernalia we were actually able to put together somewhat coherently while making the mad dash out of the house on our way to work while juggling three little love bugs and a dog. The dash that included using some choice words to the little loves who did not brush their teeth, or make their bed, or do what ever it was that you asked them fifty seven million times to do.     We have a hard time accepting and digestin

      We have a new dog. He is soft. He is cuddly. He doesn't shed. My children love him. They wanted him. They begged for him. I see the joy in their eyes. The love that flows, when they interact with him in their own individual ways, makes my heart smile. I know that it was God's plan to have him join our family. It was the right time and he was the right dog.  I love him! We all do. Even the hubby who tries to deny it has been heard uttering baby talk to him.  This dog is irresistible. Here he is. His name is Hardsun.      Here is the kicker. I also know that he will break our hearts one day. That little girl who is smiling so wide in the picture above, will grieve and her cheeks will be streaked with tears that I cannot stop. The joy that they have for him now, will lead to sadness. There is no way to avoid this. As my husband pointed out recently, "All relationships will end one day."      I guess there was one way we could have sheltered our children from

                                    " A nd though she be, but little, she is fierce,"                                                                                          ----William Shakespeare       Her eyes are that of marbles. The perfect mixture of green and blue. They gaze in wonder at the smallest things. A bug. A piece of lint. A black and white butterfly drinking nectar from a hot pink flower. She talks as if she has been a part of this world longer than her three years, and asks questions that make me laugh. She is both tender and tough. A combination of a princess who loves pink, and a jean loving, hair down and flowing type of girl. (Yup, that proves she is mine.)      She is a creator of new words and a spinner of stories long after her eyes should have shut. Do you know what 'Pinkaly' means? For future reference it is her word for something both pink and sparkly. Don't you just love it?       When I look at her, and listen to her small

    I wonder. I wonder a lot.  I think of my life and wonder what it would look like if I were living it in someone else's skin. I think about all that I have in this world living in this country called America. I wonder if I am doing enough with what I have. Am I truly living a servant's life? If I was gone tomorrow would my life's work be done? Would I have used my time wisely?  Would I have done enough to really make a difference?      I also think about the fact that when we strip away all that anyone has, we are more alike than we will ever be different. I am so much like so many other women across the globe. I have a sacred sisterhood, with these other women. A bond that I share with women I have never met. It is thicker than blood. It can not be measured with man's mathematical equations. It can not be understood unless you have traveled its paths.      It is called motherhood and it cuts to the very heart of our civilization on Earth.  This sisterhood is roote

F earless. Free from all fear. Brave. Courageous. Undaunted. When was the last time you felt this way?  What were you doing that gave you this bliss? Was it something new or something sweetly familiar? Did it take you to new exciting places or keep you safe in the warm comfort of what you know?     Today I saw fearlessness. I saw the sparkle in the eye of 9 . I heard the strength in his voice about something he was excited to do, yet had never done before. Something he has been asking to try and conquer yet had no background or parental guidance to do so. Today 9 decided to take on the world of snowboarding!      It amazes me how different children are. From a young age he has been fearless. This has not always been comfortable for a first time mom as I felt he would surely hurt himself at any given moment. I cannot even count how many times I thoroughly thought his face would be bitten off by every neighborhood dog he greeted a bit too close. However, as the years have passed, I ha

      It is amazing the situations you find yourself in when you are a parent that you NEVER thought you would be in. The words you professed that would never eek from your mouth often bellow over and over again. And then there are the words that you absolutely never imagined would utter from your lips such as......"What is in your mouth? Come here...what is in your mouth? Is that SUPER GLUE IN YOUR MOUTH??????"      Yup. You read that right. Recently we had quite a sticky situation in our house. The exact course of events has not been completely extrapolated as of yet. However, we have come to a couple of conclusions. One, our daughter is like a crow. She will take anything little and miniature and claim it as her own and find a home for it somewhere in her room. Her stealth like ability has this happen all long before you even realize you are missing it. Second, a tube of Super Glue Gel looks a lot like a tube of lip gloss to a two and a half year old. And three, never sa

    P eople are creatures of their environment and their own free will. Some are loved, cherished, admired and nurtured. Some are mistreated, angry, abandoned, and broken. Some are a kaleidoscope of both. Mixed and matched with both brilliance and brutality.     Some are go-getters who can't wait to help the next person they haven't even met yet. They are filled with light and a contagious zest for life. These are the people who we are drawn to. The people who we call when we need to hear sound advice. Individuals who we look at and wish we were more like. We look at how they live and wonder how we can capture that whimsical essence.     Then there are others we meet in life. Sometimes we choose to have these people in our lives, while other times they are thrust there haphazardly. With them, they bring anger and angst. They spew words of volcanic vulgarity and leave us shell shocked. Maybe these people have long had their light extinguished. Perhaps they see each new day as

W hat if everything we had in our house was something that we absolutely loved, used, or needed? What would that house look like? Imagine your living room or bed room right now......does it look differently? Thought so.      I have pondered this phrase, "Loved, used, or needed" since hearing about it today with a friend over lunch. We discussed how we have all this 'stuff' around us. Some of it is physical stuff and some of it is emotional stuff. Some of it is needed and other stuff, like the hat box which held the cards at my wedding nearly 13 years ago, is basically a major dust collector in my basement. It sits there, silent and patient still adorned with the beads my mother lovingly hot glued to its top. Will it ever have another use? I don't know.       After today's lunch discussion, over a fabulous chicken sandwich and sweet potato fries, I ask myself the question "Do I love it, use it, or need this hat box?" The answer is simply no. I hav

     Content. An adjective describing living in a "state of peaceful happiness". It sounds so simple. So zen like.  So calming and free from chaos. Like a page out of a travel magazine showing glowing sands and azure waters. Yet this seven letter word is so elusive for many of us who live in today's rapid fire world. It is an art that meanders throughout many aspects of our lives, yet cannot easily be mastered.      I have made this my New Year's Resolution this year. To cultivate this art for myself and for you, 962. For some, they will embark on losing weight, or scaling a mountain, or running a marathon. Those are all great goals. I too have goals this year, but I don't think being 'content' is a goal that can be attained the same as others. There is no magic finish line that you can cross to see this goal as finished. No bells and whistles that announce you have made it.  It is more like a gardener who is cultivating his small crop.      This year ma