We can all take heart in knowing we are all in a very hard season of life right now.

I’m here to remind you we are human. And being a human is so complex but also so simple. Yesterday, I worked all day after a very trying first week of homeschool. It’s when my husband made me realize just how much we are doing, and all the new things we started inside one week, that is making me feel even more insane. He put it in such amazing perspective for me, to imagine all the stress we are feeling right now, and then amplify that inside our kids. God he’s good.

When I was what I’d consider now a very young adult at the tender age of 18, my mother bought me my first designer handbag. A Dooney and Burke limited edition bag from the glass cabinets of Boscov’s. I knew how much the bag was. Heck I still know how much the bag had cost because I felt unworthy to receive such an expensive gift. I wanted her to take it back and just give me the money she had spent so I could make the responsible decision of making a payment on my one measly Macy’s credit card.

But she insisted I keep it. So I did. For a while I wouldn’t even use the bag. I was so scared to use it and ruin it or get it dirty. But my mom encouraged me to, so then it was the only bag I used for years. I had a wallet inside it with literally nothing important. Maybe a few dollars, a paycheck on Fridays on my way to the bank, a lipgloss, my mom’s flip phone some nights when I went to the mall, and definitely a pack of gum.

I can remember going on a cruise with my parents that November, and standing in line with that shiny new, matte leather designer bag and feeling like something was so weird about me using it. I stood on line at the airport, while my parents did all the talking and showing of IDs and what have you, and then my dad would hand me a $50 and the room key for the week and I’d preciously pack it into my wallet with vacant slots and zip her back up.

Once we got on vacation I would leave the bag in the room and never think about it again.

Stay with me.

So l was talking to my sister about life and the state of the world, and I started to explain this feeling that I’ve had many purses, pretty and sensible, oversized and extremely small ones. I’ve had many life lessons and it wasn’t until this conversation that I realized what that bag has symbolized all these years.

I never knew my purpose in life. I didn’t have parents who had all these huge hopes and dreams they wanted me to fulfill. The loved me and wanted to see me do good, but there was never this big end game goal for my life. All I knew was I wanted to be a mother, but had no idea when that would happen for me. So I got a job, went to school, snd then I fell in love with doing hair and made it my career. Still, my bag didn’t feel important enough.

Before I became a mom I was just a little girl walking around a giant airport with a big empty bag. The bag had no real meaning or importance, but I had it, because everyone carried a bag.

The day I met my first born, the bag had become heavy in weight, filled with meaning and important things. The purpose of my life, defined upon meeting someone I created. That bag gained reason, and purpose, and goals. I now knew who I was and what carrying my purse meant.

Then my middle came along, and he taught me how to use the things in my bag, how to explain them to people, and speak about the purpose of what I carry around, broadening and intensifying my purpose on earth and giving it even more meaning and more weight.

And once my sweet girl came, I realized as a woman and a mother, I’m to teach her everything I carry in this bag. All the life lessons and ways to be the best mom to your kids, how to be a woman of faith, and a devoted wife and friend. I’m responsible to teach her how to be everything my mother was to me, and so. Much. more.

So today, myself included, when we go out into the world let’s remember we are all mothers and fathers, potential mothers and fathers who still carry around that empty bag but we carry so much more now too. We carry the weight of motherhood in our hearts. We carry the stress of the world and our passions to fight on our shoulders, and we wear the weight of the world on the smile we muster up for our babies, our friends, and even our own parents some days. And above all else, we are still children in the deepest parts of our hearts who long to change the world. To see the change, and to be the best humans we can possibly be.

It’s September. The world has gone mad, we are back to school, it’s been 20 years since 9/11, and we are entering year three to flatten the curve. We are tired. Our souls are weary. Our hearts are hard. But Today?

I’m choosing to be soft. To give a little slack. To ask for help. To say something nice and smile at a stranger. To be the good. To spread the good. To call in all the good our hearts can stand. And be kind and warm to everyone.

While I love all three of my babies in all different and very equal ways, there is something about my girl.

I was happy. I had my two healthy boys. Maverick made me a mother and Ace has my favorite birth story ever told. He’s also my mini me, and the frattest frat boy of them all and makes me question all the things I must have done as a child to get such a run for my dang money with this one. But still, he’s my favorite. But so is Mav. And so is Veni.

Each special in their own unique and sacred ways, I treasure them. All I ever wanted was to be a mother.

And then I lost mine. And I still had to be a mother. And though every day, both eventful and boring, I miss her. And wish she was here. To help me decorate for the kids birthdays. To be awake in the world at 1am, so I could call her instead of writing a blog post. To be here to have Veni sit on her lap to blow out her 2 candles tomorrow. And 1 for good luck.

My mother always went above and beyond. It’s a weird thing to say, but even since she’s been gone, she still finds her way to me. It was the greatest surprise of my life to find out Baby #3 was a girl.

Once I heard my midwife give me the early test results over the phone, I couldn’t drive fast enough to tell Dan and the boys. Ace fell asleep on the way up, I had pink balloons shoved into a box to tell him because this one was just different.

It was just like my mom to scoot one more baby out of heavens gate and into my womb.

It was just like my mom to give me my very own goody girlfriend.

It was just like my mom to send me another best friend for life.

It was just. like. my mom. To answer my deepest wish.

Venice Alanna Rita, born 4 days past her due date came barreling into this world quite literally riding a wave.

She was every prayer I ever prayed. She was every wish I ever said inside my head when the clock struck 11:11. She was every dream and every hope I had wished for without even knowing it.

The calm that comes over you once you are bridging the gap between heaven and earth is something I can never explain. I’ll never be able to formulate words or articulate a sentence that can explain what birthing a child you carried for months into this world can feel like.

It’s magic. Veni is magic. Ace is magic and Mav. Is magic.

This little best friend of mine was sent to me by the angels I know in heaven. Hand crafted, loved and snuggled by my mom before she handed her over earth side. To me.

I will never know what I did to deserve three healthy babies in this lifetime, but part of me knows I had to make quite possibly the biggest sacrifice, the greatest trade off there ever was.

My mother lives on inside her, and that’s what makes her so special to me. My mother knew I needed to be part of a mama daughter dream team again, even though I didn’t know it then.

But I know it now.

Venice. Veni. Cash money Veni!!! Veni girl! Veniche. My little lady love, the littlest queen of my heart and my favorite girl in the world, happy!!! 2nd!! birthday!! I can’t even imagine a time without you now, and can’t wait to see the way you light up this world with your sass, your big loving heart, and the most beautiful, familiar face I’ve ever laid eyes on.

It’s the eve of the fifth complete year without my mother. I haven’t written because life has been really good and really busy and sometimes writing brings my inner most darkness to the surface.

What I really want to say is this – until you’ve lived your life without parents for 5 years, please don’t try to talk to me/be my friend/try to understand me. Life is hard and complex and add in being a motherless mother to three kids in a state that has done nothing but taken most of my maternal, constitutional and God given rights over the last 3 years, and you have yourself a bitch on a platter that is Brianna Lee Phillips. And honestly? I own that shit! Because partly it’s all very true and very real and something I’m learning I don’t have to hide or filter out anymore. (And if you don’t like that, I’m fine with it. I don’t like everyone I know either 🤣)

But instead, I’m gonna say this. It’s been 5 years since I sat by my mother’s bedside in a hospital. A cold dark sterile hospital room that smelled and sounded like death. Or dying. (If you know YK. And I’m SORRY for that)

I sat next to my husband holding his hand in an uncomfortable chair with an uncomfortable and entirely too hot of a blanket begging my mom to take her last breath and go be with Jesus. I begged her. And she waited until the next day. And on that next day; though I kind of expected her death to be coming, I only had 16 days to prepare, and how does anyone prepare for that?? Spoiler alert: you don’t. You never will. Don’t try.

I miss her more now than I did when she first left. I miss her more intensely, deeper, and with more intention, reasons and experiences.

Recently someone who had just lost her dad, asked me with the saddest, most curious and hopeful eyes if it ever gets better, and before she could beg me more with her eyes to say yes, I blurted no.

Because it hasn’t. Actually, I’ve found myself eating my feelings a little more these past few weeks. This has been far and away the hardest build up to any of the hard days I’ve had since I got the phone call from the hospital that fateful June day in 2016.

Here’s some things I’ve learned, and I’ll share with the hopes it can help someone navigate the intensity of grief if they ever get faced with something similar, but I truly wish you don’t.

Even when you explain to people who love you the most, how H A R D the hard days are; they will never understand. And it’s hard to give them grace.

98% of People stop asking and checking from about 1 month to 1 year of firsts, in. Your world stops, not theirs. Try not to take it personally. The people who care, stay. The people who are curious, don’t.

The isolation I feel still from being parentless is sometimes too much to try and convey in words. It’s truly an experience much like motherhood or jumping out of an airplane. You can’t understand it until you go through it. My therapist says I’m an orphan of sorts. Kinda sad right?

Being around big families and celebrating big things is always special in the moment, but when the reality sets in when the party is over, your pain still rips you wide open, and the sadness feels like it goes inward f o r e v e r.

There’s a tightness in your heart, and a furrow in your brow that truly never goes away.

Pain changes you.

Pain will make you lose friends.

Pain will help you make friends.

That same pain will open you up and make you want deeper more intimate connections with those people you so carefully add into your life now.

Pain can bring beautiful peace, but not right away. Stay the path, and listen more. You will learn you can be broken and healing all at once. Happy and sad. Carry your cross, and wear the crown.

I never knew I’d lose my mom, nor did I choose this – but I do choose how I sift through my grief on the especially hard days. And that can still be a challenge. Sometimes I cry for hours or days in a row. Sometimes I lash out on my husband. Sometimes I eat cookies and ice cream and brownies all in the same day. Some days I put my phone down and cancel any plans just to soak in every moment with my babies because they are the closest thing to heaven. And they all remind me of her, so I hold onto them. They are bliss personified.

I’m a changed woman. I speak up. I make people uncomfortable. I question everything. I spend hours reading and researching things that are important to me, because I never want to feel helpless again. I owe this all to her. She flipped the switch in me, not right when she left but in the year after her death – people and places, stars and dreams all aligned for me to become a higher version of myself. I walk around every day wishing for my mother, because I still needed her here. I still need her today, right now. I still need her when my kids are driving me nuts and I’m picking up the 7th pile of trash or wet clothes or rock collection off the steps thinking wow. Mothers really do do it ALL. And the fun fact is my kids won’t even know what goes into this gig until they have kids of their own.

(((PSA – if you can drop your kids off to your mama and spend the day knowing they’ll be loved up on without complaint? If your mom comes over and folds your laundry? If your mom knows you need a date night and shows up with your favorite wine in hand and says “BYE! Have fun! I won’t wait up!” If your mom lets you go to target and gives you a $50 to spend, on you not diapers? If you can drive to/ text or call your mom every day still???????? YOU ARE ONE OF THE LUCKY ONES 😭don’t take it for granted – I say this because my mom did all these things when I had just 1 baby, and I still didn’t understand how good I had it 😏)))

My mother, I have been without you now for 5 years. I’ve had two babies since you’ve been gone and so much has changed. I have screamed, I have cried, I have gone to therapy, I’ve boycotted therapy, I’ve felt the pain, I’ve numbed the pain, I’ve pushed the pain all the way down, and I’ve talked to the death about how much I love you, how much I miss you. How much I long for your touch, your conversation, your laugh. But more than anything – I’m coming to realize, that I will never meet someone, on God’s Green Earth that will ever even hold a candle to the way you loved.

Your love was loud. Unapologetic. Loyal. Unwavering, and more.

There isn’t much else to say except I miss her. In the small moments. In the lazy Sunday daydream. After the big celebrations. And inside every day. I miss her.

When you think of anniversaries in any other way – 5 is a big deal. This is no different. It’s packed a punch to my gut this past month, and though I love remembering her, I wish she was here to drink my sorrows away with me tonight. Except then, we wouldn’t have anything to be sorry about 💕

5 years an angel. Thank you for protecting us. I love you. I miss you. And, I still needed you 👑

There isn’t enough time in the day. Says every mother the entire week after daylight savings: the one where you spring ahead.

My kids have turned into rabid, nocturnal animals since Sunday and I am not here for it. File daylight savings week along with where to send me when I start menopause. Speaking of which; I’m about to be 37 and I’m wondering where my metabolism, my bright under eyes and quick wit in the morning went? Truth be told: Most days I truly feel about 27, like. I missed a decade somewhere since then – though when I get out of bed in the morning my hips feel like a C R I S P 42 with an extra 15lbs on the side. Feel me??

Truly I don’t care about age at all. It’s never been a thing for me. I do remember 10 years ago I was oddly single and celebrating my birthday in Miami. I had broken up with my now husband and thank the heavens we took that little break because we’d be nowhere near together if we hadn’t parted at that point.

🤍Ah. Perspective. The sweet spot in life. Now we sit in the kitchen touching hands and laughing while we write out and talk about manifesting the heck out of our life together and what we’ll leave behind to our children. Breaking old cycles and creating new traditions. Asking God to show us how it gets better, and better, and better 🤍

So here I am, days away from completing another healthy and happy trip around the sun. My life is full to the brim busy; but with all good things. My husband works more, and harder than anyone I know. My sister is my savior. My children fill me UP. Starts down deep in the depths of my soul and quite literally explodes out of the top of my very tired brain. With pride, with humor, with challenges, with forgiveness, with gratitude, and with a very precise form of love; they fill me up. A love that will never be explained to anyone until you’re a mother yourself.

As I reflect on the past year of my life and my purpose in this world, I am mostly blank. There is simply too much to put into perspective, still, after the year that has been unlike anything anyone on God’s Green earth had ever experienced before.

But experience I have. I have experienced getting up and leaving rooms I was no longer proud to be in. I left tables I no longer felt welcome to break bread at. I have experienced being thrown away by other people simply for who I am at my core, the way I love my family, the way I unwind. I have been talked about by friends I thought I’d have forever.

But now? None of that matters. Those things, a year ago, would have broke me. I would have talked it to the death and back alive again. I’d have needed closure and answers and fixing. While NOW, I have learned that at the end of the day, when all the diapers are changed, all the questions have been answered, after the mail has been opened and sorted, after the appointments have been made and attended and rebooked, the hard and the holy work has been done, and the coffee is set to brew for the morning, I can return to myself.

I can return. to. myself. And my self, has become one of my favorite places to dwell. I can hang my mind and all its wild thoughts up on a cozy hook in the corner, and shake my soul out as to give her some rejuvenation, a fluff, a break. And my own heart, an ocean in depth, is my softest place to land. I go inside my heart and my brain. I spend time with my soul because turns out, I really love me. And in a world where women are expected to give themselves within a morsel of what they have left at the end of a cold hard day, all but one grain of sand on an entire sandy beach, it’s ok to be self-full. It’s the opposite of selfish. And once you have found how to return to yourself, you don’t seek this approval from anyone else ever again. It’s that simple.

I understand now how broken, so much, really is. We can all agree that inside the madness of the world, we’ve realized what truly matters. What and who is authentic. And it becomes extremely clear when your mind, body and soul are aligned.

When your convictions and beliefs become so clear, it’s easy to let the stuff that doesn’t matter fall to the ground around you. Because that’s what it is. Ground level, beneath you. Once you’ve risen above to your highest self, truly, you can’t be bothered, it does not can not will not in any way penetrate your vibe.

So from me to you, as always, I want you to keep it real with yourself. YOU owe it to you to be that person you can return to. That person who aches for you to return to her in the quiet still night. That person who is cheering you on, grounding you, and filling you back up to go spread your peace and spread your love like rain and wild flowers out into the world.

Go back to belonging to yourself. Let those who belittle you, judge you, and seek opportunities on your behalf GO. Let them go. No competing, no comparing. Building people up starts within. Go build your most sacred inner space up with love and peace and light, and watch your world change 🌈

“Because it is rain that grows flowers” – Rumi.

Sometimes when I’m rocking my babies to sleep in the middle of the night or the dark early hours of morning, I’ve realized, I’m really rocking myself.

Motherhood has broken me open these past few years. The spirit of a new mother is still deep within me, but the layers of society, and social norms, and expectations, being a working mom, a homeschooling mom, the challenges, and feeling the weight of the mothers who still sit in judgement of a veteran mother, continues to hit me in the gut sometimes.

I’ve let myself go. I have allowed me to put me at the bottom of my list. I’ve gained weight, I sometimes eat candy for breakfast, and, well dinner, and the four books I promised myself I’d commit to, have been sitting, quite literally collecting dust in the basket on the side of my bed. Working out isn’t even a thought in my brain because I still haven’t slept through night in, ya know, going on 7 years now 😂

So I rock. That’s been my self help lately. My self care. My me time. My therapy. Yes my me time has been spent while the front of my body is focused on feeding my daughter, and my middle babe is wrapped around the other side of me. And I rock. I rock for my sanity, and probably for theirs. And to calm my nerves. I rock to soothe my soul, I rock to balance my brain, and to put myself to sleep, and I suppose it helps the babies a bit too, because before I know it, we are all at once, all asleep.

My oldest is feeling his oats you could say. Pushing limits and all the envelopes and sometimes I question where I’ve gone wrong, but then I redirect myself, while sitting in the bathtub with my other two babies, (ya know more self care, spa tubby time party of 3) and think about all I’ve done right. With all of them. Including the original gangsta of the kids, the almost 7 year old son of mine who is so much more sweet than bold, but damn his bold is POWERFUL, man.

Us moms can be so hard on ourselves. I’m Thankful for motherhood never allowing me a dull moment in the last 7 years. I’m also thankful for the things that have opened my eyes and pushed me on a completely different path, definitely the more challenging path, but a different path nonetheless.

Recently my husband and I binge watched Virgin River, and by binge I mean it took us 3 weeks to watch 2 seasons, so in Netflix language and standards. We’re old as fuck, and that’s nothing to be proud of, but for the first time in our relationship, I think we can say we netflixed and chilled. Anyway. That night the kids were in bed by 7, so we binged to the finish, and by the last episode, I realized it was almost 11 and I missed my kids. So bad to the point that I went upstairs and laid in bed with the boys, and played with their hair. I kissed Maverick’s little boy face, that has stronger bone structure and skin that stretches differently than Ace’s chunky cheeks and pointy little perfect chin. I held Mav’s skinny, strong hands, hard from working with tools, shooting BB guns, and playing tough outside. Then I picked up Ace’s little heavy fat hand, and kissed it. Still traces of my baby boy, though certainly my spiciest, roughest and wildest one. God. They’re so different, they fight like animals sometimes, but at night in bed they’re closer than ever, legs and arms touching and their little angel boy mouths open and breathing on eachother. It breaks my mama heart into a million overjoyed pieces. Motherhood is so beautiful.

Motherhood is so hard.

Then there’s Venice. Sweet, beautiful, dainty little baby Venice. Who, as I write this is standing on her ride on trying to unlock the front door because her beloved daddy will be walking through any moment. She reminds me of my mother with every face she makes. Her wild hair in the morning. Her teeth. Her sweet little voice and all the words she’s beginning to say. When she wakes up and immediately stretches into a hug as big as her. She’s everything I ever wanted in a child. A daughter, and a forever best friend.

Life is weird. Life is so weird right now am I right? We’ve been forced to look at ourselves under a magnifying glass. I continue to look inward during this very awkward time in the world. inward to myself and within my family of 5. We have so much to be grateful for. So much to praise. So much glory to give to God for helping us slow it all down, so we can appreciate what we have, and to be thankful for the simplicity, the beauty, and the gifts we have in life.

I’m the first one to say I don’t always practice what I preach. I’ve taken being a mother a wife and a person with a roof over my head, and food in my fridge, for granted. And I hate that. So this year, this month, this week, this day, this MOMENT, I’m practicing gratitude. And how to be thankful. How to find some time for me while being everything for everyone else. How to pour into my own heart and soul, because that’s up to me and me only. How to be who I am regardless of how people receive me, or interpret the things I do and say. I’ve finally realized I’m not for everyone, and everyone’s not for me. I’m trying to make the woman in my head someone I’d want to be best friends with. And I think I can do it as long as I’m honest to myself and to the people who love me without limits.

Thoughts you didn’t ask for from me – the wife of a hard working man, a mother of 3, and one of many non essential hairdressers, during a plandemic.

1. You found out who your friends were this year, so thank yourself and thank them. (A special thank you to the ones who have shown their true colors and seen themselves out.)

2. Your marriage has been tested, and if you’re still together, with the exception of abuse and infidelity, you will now be able to get through everything. Hard G.

3. Your therapist is now on speed dial if she wasn’t already. (Margie has been on speed dial since 2017.)

4. If your husband is lucky enough to go hunting, you are in turn going to home goods and or target for every trip into the woods he does make. And, at a moments notice. With a gun if you want. #2020

5. You are so thankful and eternally blessed for your kids, their health, and innocence while also so thankful for when they sleep over at nana’s.

6. Door dash, instacart, shipt and takeout fees are WORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN GOLD.

7. Time is an illusion.

8. If you were lucky enough to work this entire year without any interruptions, you were not in the same boat as many, not even the same storm. Be thankful. Pay it forward.

9. Donald Trump is your president. (this song)

10. You gave up wearing a bra or makeup or both 5-7 days a week.

11. You are now in deep realization and complete understanding of who and what is important and essential to your well being, happiness, and success.

12. If a friend can come to you, talk about whatever they want, but you can’t go to them and feel open to do the same, they’re a friend you should permanently socially distance yourself from.

13. When someone calls you, let them talk. They need to vent. This is an unspoken rule.

14. Neighbors are silent saviors. Impromptu besties, babysitters, cup of sugar lenders, and they know about the extra bag of onions/ice/eggs in your garage fridge. Don’t fucking call on them for NOTHING. (And certainly NOT for Cuomo.)

15. Therapy works.

16. So does a 6 pack.

17. So does a bowl hit.

18. So does minding your own damn business.

19. Humans and what they carry inside their heart is what has kept you going, be kind.

20. And last but certainly not least – 2020 has taught us so much. Who we want to be, who we really are. Who we want around us. And who is *actually* who they say they are. We have gained an insane understanding of who and what truly matters and is necessary for survival in this life. Going forward, bask in the kindness of another. Marinate in the love you have received. Sit with the warmth someone has shared with you, even if from miles and miles away. And then take that kindness, love and warmth, realize how much you needed it, and then give it back out in other ways 🤍🙏🏼

A mask to me, means something different than it means to most. This pandemic, Lord knows I have my own thoughts on it, so I thank my friends who have listened to me, entertained me, and opened their mind up after a conversation with me. Who I am in this world is just a drop of water in the ocean that is what God is to me. Who He is. When I open my mouth, even if it comes off as crude or unapologetic or even at times harsh, it comes from the purest place of love. At the end of the day I truly never wanted to give 5 flying fucks about politics, our corrupt government, about your medical decisions or my own. I care about your choices, your thoughts, and the experiences in your life that have brought you right here, to this very moment in time. So let’s learn about eachother, and try a little harder before we join in on cancel culture.

We have been placed on this planet at this exact time because we have a calling to answer. A new story to write. And nobody that came before us was any different, or had it any easier. There is beauty in breaking down, falling apart and then piecing eachother back together. There is peace and light inside this darkness. And freedom on this new path will only work if we go it together. It doesn’t have to hurt forever. It doesn’t have to feel uncomfortable, forever. And it doesn’t have to divide us any further.

I will never shut up about what I believe in. I have lost friends and family along the way, and I’d never judge a soul for what they believe, what they fight for, what they’re passionate about, how they love their husband, how they make money to make their ends meet up, or how they raise their babies. I just always, want us all, to have a choice. So I’ll continue fighting with a fire of love burning inside me, screaming about what I believe, even if my voice breaks. Even if you make fun of me. Even if you think I’m crazy.

Because I once was you. Looking at someone screaming for their rights and for my rights. And I was clueless. But now I know better, so I’ll do better. And those crazies have become my best friends, my favorite conversationalists, and so much more.

I pray for you to have deep peace inside this wonderful season. I hope you gather with ALL the peeps you love, and I hope your heart is filled to the brim. I pray for you to be healthy, happy and stay humble with humility always.

From my freedom loving soul to yours, Merry Christmas ❤️✨

The year is 2002, I drive my Jeep down to crossgates blasting Mario’s just a friend – I walk into the Uno Pizza entrance and head straight for Aldo. I spend $100 on all my winter accessories, scarf, matching mittens, necklace, earrings and a big baubley ring, maybe some lace ankle socks. I then take the elevator downstairs to the big kitchen store and look for presents for my mom and dad, then shoot over to AE for another present for myself and definitely one for Allie. Grab an orange Julius in the hidden corner and then finish it before I’m allowed to walk into Delia*s. I never check my phone – bc it was my mom’s wooden detail flip phone, complete with a keyboard that I had in my glove box in case of emergencies only. No text. No amazon. No online shopping. Just in person, leisurely strolling a mall that felt safe during Christmas time.

It’s been feeling heavy. We can all agree on that. But my point is, we once were better, we knew better and did better. We are better people than what we see in the news(feed) every day. We all have liked different things our entire lives and managed to get by, get married, and some of us are even lucky enough to have brought babies into this world. And then somewhere along the way, something happened. Where we thought our opinion was best. Our team was the greatest. We had the most amazing beliefs. Our convictions were stronger than theirs. My mothering way is better than hers. My husband spends more time with his family than him. My holiday party/breakfast/makeup/winter decor will be picture perfect and I’ll post about it.

Do you see what’s happened? I am guilty of things too, but see above – all the things I wrote, were ways others have made me feel just by the way they talk out loud and post on socials. The way they speak in public and the passive judgements that are made in conversations.

I try to be my best self every day, and truly I do it for my kids, my husband, and myself. I try to make things feel warm and welcoming always. I want my children to remember waking up in a house that was safe and warm. A home that was free from speaking negativity out. A safe space to learn and become who we are all meant to be. And a sacred place to fill with love and light.

But then there’s those times when I have nothing left inside to give. Zero patience, no warm and fuzzy because I drained myself. Then I beat myself up and feel like I am not worthy of all the things I want and have because why? I’ve literally emptied myself into a black swallowing hole that is politics, hot button issue convos, and yes even judgement – this is a reminder to myself to just push it all aside. At least for the next 6 weeks. We have holidays to celebrate, and people to hug. Kids to spoil with love and attention because they have been through it. And we can all agree they need us, somehow, more than ever before.

The other night I was telling the boys a story about my childhood. And my middle asked “but did you even have a pyyooootie?” (He was asking if I had a computer 😂) and I didn’t even hesitate to say no.

Because times were simpler, and easier, and I miss my childhood a little bit more this time of year. But I’ll keep the magic alive by loving my children well. Loving my neighbor, even if they have a different flag flying proudly in their front yard. And by doing the hard and holy work I’ve been called to do in this life.

All we can do is start at home. Do my kids know some of the reasons we make some of our choices? Yes. Will they love and see everyone for who they are and not by the color of their skin or if they love the same sex as them? Yes! Yelling YES. I am raising good and kind humans. The boys are empathetic and just want to love everyone they meet. My littlest is watching and learning by all the examples they set, that we set. And we are all still ALWAYS LEARNING together.

From my home to yours, all my best and festive holiday cheer and my longest and warmest winter hugs. God bless you and may peace and joy fill your heart and homes today and always.

As I glance into the backseat through my rear view mirror, I catch the littlest light of mine. Her eyes are fluttering closed, she’s falling peacefully to sleep. Kane Brown good as you is on the radio, and I’m reminded at just how fast we move through our days, our years, and our time here on earth. Last time I looked back into that middle seat, it was my middle son’s eyes fluttering closed. These little kids are so amazing. The world moves so fast and furious, really. That sometimes I myself am losing sight of the innocence inside every day.

A friend today checked in on me and asked why I’ve been quiet. And truly, I have been. Because if you’re not posting about Donald Trump or Corona virus, are you even alive bro? it was magical because, I have been quiet. And nobody but she, noticed. Lately I’ve been doing some soul searching as I do every change of seasons I’m finding. I look at who I hold inside my heart, who I surround myself with, and who I am because of it.

I’m learning in this new very busy very fast moving season of life and love and parenthood and marriage, that priorities need to be set, and they need to be intentional. These priorities need to be worked at every day, or they fall to pieces all at once. I’ve learned that long connections are not always deep. Forced connections never work. And natural connections are soul feeding, life giving, and necessary as fuck. I’ve learned that there are people that steal my shine and don’t clap for me and don’t want to celebrate me, ever. They want me to be there for them in their darkest hour, but when the strong girl is having a weak moment, it’s judged. Judged so hard. Judged so deeply and so unfairly. And that is what I’m giving up this season.

This period of being a motherless mother to three young children is the season. And I’m giving up people who don’t bring me joy. People who can’t find time to be there for me. People who can’t find the time for a phone call or a decent response. And I get it. It’s not all about me. But if I can do it, anyone can.

So I’m here to tell you. Relish in the fleeting moments. End a relationship that isn’t serving your soul. Stare at your babies while they fall asleep. Hold them a little longer. Say yes. Walk in the warm light of the sunshine. Practice self care. Buy yourself a present. Give yourself some grace. Yes we all have our moments. Yes we all yell and grieve and need help. But we are otherwise handling this season of pandemic parenthood and everything else us mothers do, like absolute champions.

As for me, I took my babygirl shopping today, indulged in a Starbucks coffee, and now I’m swinging outside on my swing my husband gifted me while taking a minute to put my feelings down on paper. This helps me like nothing else can. My husband kept the boys home, and Acey got to ride the mower, his favorite :). We had baseball this morning, and it’s been an absolute joy to watch my oldest get into something he may end up loving for the rest of his life. Now we will tend to the house, make a pot of sauce with tomatoes we planted last spring, and enjoy eachother and live and laugh and love today. Learning to slow down and simplify and be intentional is helping me grow a deeper connection within myself, with my husband, and my children. And it makes me a better me. Somebody with her own identity even though all my favorite things are what I am for everyone else.

Be the light. Slow down. Be intentional AF. And today, I hope you have Peace 🤍

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 ☀️