Notes to My Loves

  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. ...

     Images, perspectives, preconceived notions, wishful thinking, pride, and public scrutiny. What do all of these things have in common? What do all of these mean for most mothers? These are the undercurrents to how most of us choose to live our lives. These are the tides and torrents that shift the sand beneath our feet, or pull our lives into chaos. They are the images not of what is truly going on within, but what we want others to think is truth. The snapshots of greatness versus the grainy ones of defeat. Those that hang proudly on our walls versus the ones we often quickly delete.      In the last couple of years, I have seen many of my friends struggle. I have struggled. We have struggled silently, publicly, quietly, and often times without the knowledge of those closest to us. Other times we confide in our careful few. The ones that we know won't judge or have words to fix what is going on.     The thing that has kept me thinking is wh...