went out into the world today, for the first time in a long time and I’m reminded how the heartbeat of humanity is ultimately good. I had a few unexpected surprises throughout my day, and I spent some time doing things for me. People mainly bring me so much joy, and I think we have forgotten how extremely vital human interaction is to the heart and soul of a human. Idk what the new normal is, but I hope it brings trust over fear. Connectedness over separation. And LOVE over hate. I pray for our children, that they can grow into this new life that we are carefully and peacefully planning for them, with calm and courage. I pray that we take the stuff that fills us up, and pour it out into the ones we love the MOST, and the one’s who NEED it most. People want to help one another. People thrive off a beautiful moment, a lovely conversation, the ability to help, a kiss, a TOUCH. We need more of this, and then we need to talk about it, and celebrate it, and celebrate it some more ☀️

I want to thank you for being the calm in this storm.

I have reached for my phone more times than I care to admit. I have posted my opinions in hopes to change the world. I have stayed up late worrying and praying for a true change.

For you.

For your brothers. For your father and for me.
Every day for the last 2 months, our lives as we know it have changed. I read something early on, on how to keep the calm in the midst of this storm.

Now, I’ve been through some things in my life, including the loss of your very special grandma. And it’s not lost on me that my emotions have erupted this week because Mother’s Day is once again, for the fourth time since she’s been gone, on the horizon.

Every day I’ve worried, and then I look at you.

You. This little piece of magic that carries a weight in the depths of my heart. Like gravity, your magic holds me to what is true. When you fell asleep tonight and I placed you in my big bed, with fresh sheets, I counted the blessings inside my day. I thanked God, for you. For your brothers. For giving me light in all this darkness. I don’t know why everything is so uneasy around us, but inside these four walls, I have peace. An unwavering peace when I can truly stop for a moment and realize what I’m blessed with.

I get to kiss your little sun kissed face. I get to stroke your perfectly colored hair that’s growing into little curls and waves and tuck them behind your ears. I get to listen to your breath as you nurse yourself to sleep each night. I get to search your skin for the little white lines between your arms and wrists where the sun couldn’t quite get to today. A sign you’re well fed and well loved 🙂

And Veni, I get to love you. I get to love you, and Maverick, and Ace. I get to listen to the little things, I get to give advice and opinions on the serious things, and I get to cultivate a world inside this home, for you to plant your feet into, and then jump up and down like wild, one day when you’ll spread your wings and fly away from me.

With each of you kids, I’ve reveled in the fact that you are so perfectly and fearlessly made. By God. He has given you all the things you’ll need in your life. Health, happiness, faith – and the greatest; love. I definitely do not know what tomorrow brings. But I know that when the world is going a million miles a minute and dividing people by the second, you are safe inside my arms. And I will go on for the rest of my life, to the ends of the earth, and hang hope on every star in every galaxy, to keep you and your brothers safe. There is magic inside this pause. There is love. Inside this pause. And there is life to be lived to overcome the fear that has been created by this pause.

There is nothing like the spirit of a mother during this PAUSE. One who wakes up in the morning, ready to create a space full of love and snacks and learning. Go through the day to hold space for each little mind, each little heart, each little lover inside those perfectly made bodies. And then, when that mother’s spirit is broken down, dusty and bruised by the end of a hard day, she finds the strength inside to read one more story, brush another set of teeth, find favorite pajamas, locate stuffies, sleeping bags, specific cold pillows, one more snack. And only then when all the little babies are sleeping under one sound roof, does that mother lay her head down on her pillow and pray. For her babies. For the world. For her husband. For safety, health and peace. And for the faith to throw a spark into her otherwise dismal-at-best spirit to wake up and do it all over again. With no relief in sight. With nothing to look forward to. She still goes on holding out hope for little brains to blossom, and personalities to flourish and character to build. The spirit of a mother at all times, but especially right now in 2020 can not be matched and cannot be put into words.

Tonight I’m reflecting because the pause was getting the best of me this week and I had to stop and hold myself accountable. We need to be better. Because we are different than all the ones before us, and if we can get it right? Then the one’s after us are gonna F L Y. They will move mountains. They will change the world. They are ours.

Tonight they are asleep in their beds, and if we’re doing the good job we hope, they are peacefully dreaming of bugs and bonfires and the summer ahead. These little kids deserve all the praise and all the grace in the world right now. If we could all just try to look at ourselves through their eyes more often, I really think we’d be able to dust off our wings and fly too.