The world is a scary place, some people and their ways are just mean and mind boggling; and most days I’m afraid to go out with my kids to run a simple errand in fear someone is out there trying to cause harm for no good reason. I went to the Justin Timberlake concert on Saturday night and I took the passcode off my phone and wrote a note for whoever found my phone to relay to my family in the event that I was killed, or stolen. I don’t watch much news, I don’t follow many news outlets on social media, but my anxiety and stress and the guilt that is mom brand is REAL. So anyway, I made it out of JT unscathed, but I’m sad to live in a world where there is so much hate, and evil and in turn, fear.

What I am thankful for is having three mouths to kiss goodnight, and every morning too. I’m thankful for my children, and that somehow my kiss fits perfectly into their little faces. And my husband. And the endless happiness they bring to the deepest place inside my heart. And then it glows with love. My siblings, my saviors. 👑 My phillips clan. And my few good friends, even the ones who came back into my life these last two years. You guys are the reason I always try to be up.

The thankful season is upon us, so try to be kind and keep comments to others happy and light. Lend an ear or an extra long hug to someone because, from experience, this season can be a tough time on top of the day to day stresses one person may be facing.

I had a very full day of curve balls, lost calls, no service for three hours which I let IRK me to NO end, and I’m still annoyed at how much it annoyed me (breathe it out) and I even navigated a corn maze with a stroller with THREE BRIDGES, all before 11am. Bless you to the teachers who helped me 🙌🏼👑 We had an unexpected trip to the doctors office and everyone and their mother texting me about theyyyy holiday hair. Then once I got home, I realized we had zero toilet paper and it was back out for some more terrifying errands. Then home, TO COOK! #notallsuperheroeswearcapes

And ya know what? My husband didn’t get the best of me tonight. And let’s be honest sometimes the kids don’t get the best version of me either. Last week I didn’t sleep through the night once and I thought I may actually fall asleep standing up doing a bridal trial, but LIFE MOVES ON, literally and figuratively, with or without you. And I just wish I could Benjamin button through my days sometimes and reverse the way I’ve acted. My intentions. My words. The way I show love. My main focus this season is to be the best to the people who love me without boundaries. The people who love me no matter what. The people who love me when I’m ugly inside. So here’s to YOU, too. Kiss your babies, let your husband feel you up while you’re standing over a hot stove with multiple hot pans and pots, and you feel anything but sexy, but really stop being so uptight. Shut your phone off, and take your bra off when you walk through the door. And for all that is Holy, have a cocktail!! ✔️✔️✔️✔️

(You’re welcome (self) for the much needed pep talk and overall inspirational talk.)

So yeah, even after I’m not my best self, Dan is somehow, still, pretty spectacular. Like, I have a real good, honest to goodness MAN, on my side, loving me when I don’t deserve it and encouraging me to take a deep breath when my shoulders are scrunched up. And currently, I feel thankful to be able to listen to him tell Maverick his bedtime stories and listen to them laugh together while I’m in here unwinding and writing this. He’s just so good. I am so lucky. These boys of ours? The luckiest to have a daddy like him. I’m thankful that I’m raising my kids next to most of their cousins, and for my Panera date with my little niece and my boys today after a pretty adorable field trip with their class. Im thankful for my children’s, my husband’s and my health. I’m thankful for FaceTime, crock pots, and craft beers. I’m thankful to be a boy mom, I’m amazed sometimes at how much I love being outside with them, in the great outdoors, freezing my tits off, but I’m with them; laughing into the cold dark dusk, and they think I’m the coolest girl ever. I’m thankful for who they inspire me to be.

Ooooh I always digress, ALWAYS. So yes I’m well aware that I am jumping the gun with the season of thanks, so fine. HAPPY HALLOWEEN. (My neighbor put up their Christmas lights today!) Be so so safe, inspect your candy, (targets dollar spot now has Christmas decor trickling in!) wear reflective colors, and stay WARM! Secretly hoping we get this wild snowstorm that’s supposedly making its way up the coast (🙄🙄who even am I. Ew.) ok, I’ll stop ☃️ I mean 👻

There’s a faint twinkle outside my window, across the street from my neighbor’s front yard. They went all out for Halloween, and every day, Maverick asks me when WE are decorating. I can never bring myself to adorn my house with skulls and skeletons and all things black and orange. I’m more of a harvest decorator myself. But it brought me to the realization of just what I’m trying to teach my children. What I’m trying to teach them in every day, day to day, living life.

I don’t wanna raise a brat. Who gets whatever he wants when he wants it, or that we are ever gonna do what everyone else is doing. I certainly don’t want to raise two brats. I want to equip my kids with wit, humility, certainty, a healthy mind, kindness, and love. And a thousand other things, but those are the ones that come up first.

Lately life has been…. really fucking good. Like to the point where I feel guilty. And is there a word for the fear that something bad is gonna happen at any minute? Because that is so me in my element right now.

Since we’ve last talked, I’ve been through some stuff! I’ve seen miracles. I’ve seen tragedy. I’ve felt the most amazing love. I’ve felt fear that has nauseated me. And still, I feel so happy. Happier than I’ve been, in a really, really long time. Matter of fact I have a picture of myself with huge gold hoop earrings on, sitting in my adorable kitchen in Scotia, holding my dog. And that image comes to mind because I remember feeling infinitely HAPPY. And this same feeling of doom looming overhead in the form of anxiety is, and was in that pic, always kind of there.

But ya know what? I’ve felt so bad for so long that I don’t even care to pay that doom attention. And to support that point, I’m just gonna keep on striking while my iron is hot.

Because I deserve this. I deserve this lightness and happiness. I deserve to be loved endlessly by my children. To think they are the most beautiful people alive. I deserve a husband who loves me and shows me that love in so many different ways. All the ways. All the good good ways only a man can love a woman. And I deserve a refreshing and inspirational reset in my professional life. I deserve GOOD fucking friends, who love me. They love me so well. Even if now, it’s not a night out for a birthday and a hotel room and a hangover that ends us up at TGIFridays on Sunday afternoons anymore; but instead, a phone call on the way home from work. Or a bottle of wine dropped off for no good reason at all. Or a genuine “girl how’s things” over text.

Today, my son asked me out on a date. He asked me if we could go eat lunch together after preschool. He asked if we could go “in town” and I of course said yes. There isn’t much I don’t say yes to anymore (kind of my new motto ☺️) So we landed at Cantina. And he asked me to sit with him on his side of the booth and my heart actually melted and I had to fight back tears at noon on a Wednesday because the wonder and the charm that is Maverick John is all too much at times 😍😍😍. We laughed and talked about what dead octopuses look like, and took some silly pictures and then we went to target to buy some legos when he asked me the question I won’t soon forget.

Mom, is Gaga on the list to pick me up at preschool? Ugh. My freaking heart kid. He continues on to let me know how much he misses her and thinks about her, and how if she ever could come down from heaven to pick him up how he would (direct quote) “pee my pants if I saw her!”

My. Heart.

This. Child.

I can’t say this enough. But lately, some really amazing things have happened for me. I’ve met some seriously inspiring people. Cried with strangers. Witnessed actual miracles. Been moved to tears in a simple late night conversation after a color class at my job. AT MY JOB. (I love you JG)

I just. I feel truly lucky to be alive. To be given this life. These children. This wonderful man. Yes I lost my mother. I lost her tragically and it still guts me to think about how she left this world behind that hot day in June. But then, in an ordinary day, I see sunshine and rain. I see smiles and tears. And I’m alive. So I might as well live. It’s ok to live. And I’m finding that I can live a happy life full of color and noise… with a breaking sadness inside me.

Today I loved the fuck out of life. I purged lots of stuff. Actually I’m thinking of somehow becoming a minimalist, just…. NOT with my wardrobe. And I’m gonna tell all of you. Go out and LIVE. Out loud. And then purge your shit. Purge it all, your clothes, your picture frames, your junk drawers, your friends 😂😂 whatever. Just let that shit that has been weighing you down GO. Bye!

Cut your hair, quit your job, remove something gross from your diet; spend the money, and in a year from now? When you feel weightless? When you feel good? Please let me know. Because we all deserve to fly sometimes ✨

Thanks always for reading. I have so much more to give, and I hope this little arrangement of words finds you happy, healthy, loved and well 👑

It’s overcast with a slight humidity filling up the air, it’s cool in the shade and the weather feels exactly like what this season stands for; The warmth of memories made during a hot busy summer, and the fresh clean air of what’s to come in the next couple months.

I’m sitting on the stairs of my front porch, watching my two children play on the front lawn, I can’t help but feel completely filled up. This summer truly was a wild one. It was hitting the go button as soon as the kids’ feet hit the floor and all but tapping out at bedtime. In between it was dirt and ice cream and coolers full of snacks, it was the lake or the pool or a weekend away with friends and family, it was road trips, scraped knees, sunscreen and sandy feet. It was play dates, all the kids in the neighborhood on our lawn at dusk, and ringing the dinner bell when dinner was on the table. It was summer time, and I forget the rest.

Now switching gears into fall, my oldest will go off 3 days a week and spread his wings. He’ll learn from wonderful teachers, surrounded by a group of what I anticipate to be amazing kids. Today we went to a meet and greet at his school and it was exactly what I expected. Bittersweet. I had to catch myself from staring at him in total awe. I wiped away the proudness rolling down my cheek. I could feel the love thudding in my chest. My happiness for him in this next adventure of his life was all consuming in this moment that was new to the both of us. So today, I’m not gonna tell you to enjoy your kids because you only have 18 summers, I’m not gonna write a letter to his future girlfriend or mother in law or any of that.

Instead, I’m giving my son these pearls of wisdom for his ever flowing treasure chest :

Be Present. You will never realize the value of a moment until it becomes a memory you so long to have back.

Be Good. Down to your soul, please be good.

Be Kind. Do kind. Act kind. Whisper kind, scream kind.

Be Smart. Think twice before you say anything, three times before you type it. And four times before you assume anything. Be book smart, street smart, self smart. Just be smart.

Understand your worth. You are a valuable and rare little man. God placed you in this world for a purpose, so find thatand my baby, run with it.

Boundaries are the fence around a field of love.

Know that you aren’t always gonna be for everyone. You can do everything right, and kind, and smart, all while being present and there will still be somebody who wants to knock you down. Keep climbing. Keep growing, and keep doing good, even when you feel tempted to reduce to their level.

Whatever the opposite of spiteful is, be that.

As long as you have love in your heart to give away, well, give it.

Know when to ask for help.

Say your prayers.

Trust your gut.

There are a million different ways to get to the same end point, think outside the ordinary.

As long as you have confidence in your actions, do whatever it is you want to.

You’ll never be too old to be checked for ticks.

Saying no is as important as saying yes. You’re in charge of making your choices.

It’s more important to be quiet than to be right.

Listen to your inner voice.

Mav, I know you better than anyone. You have sunshine in your soul, love in your heart, and happiness in your mind. You will succeed in whatever you give yourself to! You are going to do great big things and you’re going to do them with love. There isn’t a soul on earth who loves you like I do. You are rare, and I love you to the moon and whatever’s after that. This next weekend is the last weekend we have together before you grow like a wild flower, and I can’t wait to watch you b l o o m 💙😭

Some days it’s all hard. You feel like the only companionship you have is the continuous stream of toys that are constantly littering the floors. And the couch. And the tub. You haven’t had an adult conversation since yesterday and your husband hasn’t paid you a real meaningful compliment in weeks. Ya know one like. Thanks for being a team player. Thanks for keeping our kids alive. Thanks for folding my underwear. You feel guilty. And stressed. And really fucked up for realizing or registering any of this through your brain. You beg your body to let you cry because the pains in your neck have become too much to bear and everyone telling you they admire your strength have no idea how weak you really are in your alone moments. The moments you blink and try to push out a tear. The moments you close your eyes so tight you hurt your face. You are a neurotic-type-A BITCH to the closest to you on the outside because inside, you’re drowning.

You give and you pour out love and you smile and you dress nice for work. You curl your hair and spray perfume and some days you even find time to change your chipped nail polish. You have these silent calls and cries out for help but nobody sees them as such because they’ve seen you post something funny lately, or they’ve laughed with you, and they think you’re all right. They think you’re just fine.

You struggle to be nice to yourself. You pinterest self help techniques on Pinterest at midnight. And how to be a better parent/wife/human. You peruse your anxiety relief workbook that your therapist loaned you. You highlight your hair and toy with the idea of full blown Britney Spears shaving it off at one of your lowest moments. You sit on the floor in the room all of your dead mothers things are packed away in and silently cry while you polish your toes through hot tears running down your neck. Finally your body has allowed you to cry.

You text your friends in a cry for help and they answer. They are there. Someone is answering you in this deep dark abyss of depression your writhing through. Silently tormented by the sadness and the stress and the solitude that is young motherhood. The sadness that is young motherhood without a mother of your own. The sadness that is a bump in the marriage road, the sister road, the professional road. Because if you don’t get up and get dressed and brush your damn teeth – ain’t nobody gonna do it for you. Ain’t nobody gonna do it for you. So you cry. And you put your quick dry top coat on. You blow your nose and put a towel back around your hair that needs to be blow dried. And you chug a glass of water and you thank God for all the happiness he has put into your life and then you have that instant mom guilt for having a moment to yourself. And thinking about one day your kids will be grown and then Jesus Christ what will I bitch about if it’s not 17 toy hammers on the floor? But ya know what? I needed that fucking moment. After the scrapes and bruises of a hard week, I needed that alone moment. To hear a household operate for one lone hour without me. God only knows what’s on the other side of that door but it’s better than the abyss. For now. It’s better for now as you finally let out those burning, torturous tears tied to all the one billion feelings you’ve had since the last time you cried strong. Because crying strong is when you cry alone. Crying strong is a cry mostly I think only a mother knows. Crying strong is what separates the women from the boys. Crying strong saves me from myself. With every breath I let out and every tear that dropped down onto my naked legs, I felt a little bit better. A little lighter. A little more okay.

They don’t tell you about the after death. Death was the easiest part of grief. When the shock surrounds you and protects you. The death is a finale, and to our human brains it’s over because we know it’s a fate that can’t be changed. And then as you move through life as a brand new and broken person you hold onto memories differently. The happy ones are just that, free, uplifting and there is the purest form of innocent bliss that actually lightens up your entire body for a moment. And then there’s the realization of a memory made because of death; that’s not fixable to our human brains, because it’s just as final as the end of a person’s presence. It’s death’s memory that feels so tangible and heavy and so polar opposite of the feelings of a good memory. And somewhere in between is the place we will one day all learn about it in the balance of it all. There is beauty in the balance, and the journey to one day get there. Nobody will ever be the one to tell you this, and hopefully you won’t have to ever know what it feels like until you and your children are old and grayed. It’s my deepest wish for anyone who is breathing today, to never ever hurt even for a minute the way I’ve had to ♥️

It has been my very thorough experience that most people just don’t give a shit about other people. It’s a selfish and broken world we are living in right now. Modern barbaric times. And if you’re kind, or happy, or hopeful, or even hopeless, it’s a big cold scary world out there.

Take it from me. I’m one tired, broken ass bitch. I mean that in the most literal and figurative of ways all at once. My patience are tried, my heart is broken, my mind is always racing. My tank runs on fumes most days and for what? A pretty picture on instagram? To try and psych myself out to the point of comparing myself to someone in my life?

The people who know me? They KNOW me. They know my grief is still thick. They know I’m in the midst of shoveling my way through the depths of depression. They know I cry alone at night in a bed I sleep in with my kids. They know my marriage takes a back seat to almost everything these days. They know I’m morbid and sad and sometimes that’s a lot to listen to, or read over text. But those people? They still call me. And they still text me at midnight. They still tell me I’m strong when I feel like the only thing I’m good at is failing on every level.

Some would say love should never be hard. But love has so many levels of complexity and sometimes things that are layered with such twists and turns get sorted into a gray area that sometimes in my opinion can be, well, difficult. And THATS OKAY. It’s ok to say that sometimes love is hard and I’ll explain why.

Do you think when Dan married me 5 years ago he knew my mother would die a very ugly and sudden death? Do you think almost 7 years ago when he proposed to me, bare foot and on a mechanical bull, he thought there would ever be a time we didn’t fall asleep talking like we had just had our first sleepover? Do you think we ever really knew what we promised to each other “in good times and bad, in sickness and in health” would EVER actually be the latter? No! We didn’t. Because you really don’t ever plan for the bad, the unthinkable, the ugly torturous shit that pops up. And boy has it popped UP. And then beyond Dan, my family. My friends. My own father. Some people just can’t hang tough. But it’s in the absence of those people who didn’t choose to stand by me, that I have the strength to stand alone. There’s a quote that says something along the lines of how we are all just one phone call, car accident, diagnosis or break up away from a life changed forever – and it could not be any truer. Hard love is, navigating our way through the murky waters that have been the death of one of our parents and the very ugly aftermath of it. Our vows and commitment to each other have been put to the test time and time again and even though we are not perfect we put our best in for each other even on the silent treatment days. Or the days we argue through text as to not fuck up our kids by hearing us yell. We are looking odds in the face and defeating them, even when we’re trying to defeat each other. But, same team. Same end goal. Same love is somewhere way deep down towards the bottom of our sometimes very heavy hearts. It’s the absolute foundation of who we are together today. It’s the blueprint. It’s the very pure and simple building blocks we put together the first few months of dating where we knew we’d be together forever.

Life is weird in that, we all die in the end. Thats fucked up to say out loud. It’s even more fucked up to write out and have these words forever in a blog post on retiredsequins.com. Nobody hates putting bad shit out into the universe more than me. I even have mantras in place for my children as to have them attract good and shield off the bad. I repeat positive things out loud throughout my days and if something is really bothering me I write out positive affirmations for the people I love and me. I guess my point is. We fight, we love, we laugh, we cry. We have things, really bad or really great really amazing or really devastating things that happen FOR us in this lifetime. Job changes, meeting people, losing people, hearing your favorite song for the first time, saying goodbye forever or saying hello again after a long while. All of these things hold the same exact weight and they hold no weight at all.

I try every day to wake up and choose happy, positivity, health, and love. Some days are easier than others. Some days my 4 year old sends my 1 year old flying through the driveway because he hit him with his bike. Or I’ve talked about poop more than I ever EVER care to ever talk about poop ever again. (That constipation bout ruined me as a mother for a good week) Some days I am pouring out smiles from a painfully dried out empty cup. Some days I wake up and I’m rejuvenated by something supernatural that picked up my spirit, but either way. Every day, I try my hardest to put forth my best self. I speak fluent in many love languages especially the people who live under my roof and the very few people I hold near to my soul. I’ve even been able to adjust the way I love people based off the way they receive love ~ meeting someone as deeply as they’ve met themselves.

People see me smile and laugh. They see me live in a decent house in a beautiful town raising two dreamboat children and a husband I still find completely attractive on many levels. What people don’t see is my tear soaked pillow, my spare bedroom filled to the brim with my mother’s clothes and belongings. They don’t see that I feel like an orphan a lot, parentless and roaming through life’s hardest lessons, often on my own, or until I feel crazy enough inside my own head to ask for help. Or start bouncing some of my insecurities and issues off some of my closest people. And sometimes the people closest to me don’t wanna hear it. Or they don’t wanna help. Sometimes the people closest to me forget exactly what I’ve been through in 34 short years.

At the end of the day, I’m a human. I think I have a lot to offer to anyone but specifically I am a devoted wife and mother who fiercely and endlessly loves her family. I hurt every day when my brain turns to memories of my mother. I smile every day with my kids. I look forward every day to seeing my husband walk through the door. I enjoy talking to my brother and sister throughout the week and it’s always a bonus when we can spend quality time together. Sometimes being an in law in a humongous family can really sting. But mostly it feels really good to have such a sense of belonging in a world where I sometimes feel rootless.

Anxiety is not new to me but the level I experience now is unlike any other. A text message, a phone call, a meeting called at work, a fever for one of my kids can send me into instant hand shaking/cheeks flushing mode. And it sucks and it’s terrible and any human who lives like this on a daily basis I honestly pray for you every night. My husband and sister are among some of the most anxious people I know, so I know we are not alone, but that doesn’t make it at ALL easier.

I guess I just want to invite the good the happy and the healthy into my life and the life of my sons, husband, and all the people who love me so well. My mom said to me once that maybe all the bad happens in the beginning, so that life can be enjoyed later on. Ya know, because “A calm sea never made a skilled sailor” (thank you MAMA)

I’m hoping this is the later on and that all the positive affirmations I’ve written out begin to see the light of a new day.

To feel the light of a new day. To dance in the light of a new day. To be the light of a new day. Health and happiness for my children. Health and happiness and clarity of the mind for my husband. Continued blessings and enlightenment through love in my marriage to a very good man. Happiness. Abundance and the fleeting feeling of innocence for the people I love. And all the light my heart can hold for the people who love me back.

You’re still saving me every damn day 🌈☀️

Be present.

Be wonderful to your children, you’re giving them their “good old days”

Put your phone down.

Say yes.

Remember saying no from the safe place of love is just as worthy as yes from a place of excitement.

Throw worry to the wind.

Ask people to pray for your babies.

Put your bare feet on the earth.

Stay grounded.

Pray. Pray. Pray.

You don’t have to respect everyone’s views or opinions. Smile, and move along.

Drink the wine.

Love loud.

Be the first one on the dance floor.

Not much a coat of paint can’t fix, save your money.

Plant lots of stuff.

Create a new goal.

Love without boundaries, limits or conditions.

Spend intentional time, simply.

Make a toast every time you pour a drink

Sing.

Stop and stare.

Let it go.

Choose happiness.

Collect a moment.

Cry.

Give yourself an extra 5 minutes.

Share a story, if it entered your mind, it wants to be remembered.

Breathe.

Say things carefully, so if you hear them return to you, you’re proud.

Be who you needed when you were younger.

Stay calm.

Buy the fancy, local, organic coffee.

Start your beer in the shower on a Saturday night.

Be kind to your spouse.

Soothe with words, soothe with actions.

Sing without music.

Find your own way.

Hold hands.

Talk to someone who makes you laugh. Thank them.

Be a light.

Clear your brain.

Stop what you’re doing and GO!

Live the life you dream of having.

Count your blessings.

Release your burdens.

Love your babies well. Even when they push you to the end of a very very very very, loooong, summer time rope.

Kiss the ground you walk on.

Send a package.

Buy someone a living breathing thing (like a plant not a dog:)

Hang string lights outside around your favorite sitting space.

Drive in silence.

Think.

Nothing will ever match the spirit of a new mother, don’t even try.

A memory treasured is a moment in time.

Swim.

Jump in.

Be brave.

Every so often, there are things that happen in my life, be it a quote, or a situation I find myself in, or something someone says, or a special moment I have inside an otherwise regular day; that inspires me to write. I wish I had kept better track of it because now I wish I could look back at each post and see what exactly the jump off was. This post is inspired by a compliment my sister paid me about how she views me as a parent. It was one of the nicest praises I’ve ever received, and for not having my mom around to pat me on the back, it was truly such a pleasant surprise to hear something so nice from my baby sister. 

My mother’s bedroom always smelled like mints and plants. Do plants even have a smell? I don’t know, but her room smelled like it. She had a big brown frame around a big blue waterbed. The back of her waterbed was s shelf and on it was aloe plants. We’d open up the leaves in the summer and rub it on our skinned knees and sunburned cheeks. It was under that bed that my brother hid the hair he cut off of the back of my head. It was in that bed I would lay and watch tv with my mom on Friday nights. It was in that bed I realized my mom was unlike any other moms of any of my friends.

We were watching the today show or whatever was on in the mornings back then. It was June and Billy Ray Cyrus was performing achy breaky heart. There was all the groupies and fan girls in the audience and there was a woman with a white tank top on and her nipples were poking through her white shirt and my mother said “oh Jesus Christ her tits are hanging out” and I remember saying to her, “Ma do you think Simon’s mom says stuff like that!” And I don’t remember what her response was, but I know that her actions always matched exactly who she said she was.

It’s funny isn’t it? To realize what kind of mother you are? How you came about to be the way you are? How maybe some of the things are exactly the same as the way your parents were? How maybe, some things are polar and complete opposite of who your parents were to you? for you? That maybe the things you had were just as important as the things you didn’t have and that’s why you are exactly who you are present day? So me for instance. I grew up in a household with both parents, married, italian, loud the whole bit. Usually we’d eat mostly pasta, pasta, and maybe a meatball on top of the pasta dish my mom would whip up, usually pizza night was on Fridays at Sue’s pizzeria with the Sasso’s. I remember when our friends would come over we’d watch tv in the “den” and eat microwave cheese filled hot dogs, and use can cheese to make shapes on our saltines (omg vomiting at that memory) I remember getting virgin strawberry daiquiris at the ground round on special occasions, sleeping in bed with my brother and all our stuffed animals, and I remember my mom soaking us in our pink bathtub every time I had a scraped knee. I remember playing with my best friends, Mary, Simon, Chris and Hakeem. I remember going too far into the woods, bike jumps, and eating ice cream every night, climbing trees, drinking from the hose and always swimming in the pool when it would rain. I remember filling one styrofoam cooler with tadpoles me and my brother collected from the pond and having frogs literally all over our backyard a few weeks later. I remember then growing a little older and moving upstate, and the neighborhood kids were my favorite, one because they were mostly fun, and two because they were always able to play. It was Tshepo, Christy, Heather, the Crawford Twins and Matt. Even though mostly the boys would tease us, and draw pictures of my legs on the driveway, we would play hide and seek and flashlight tag every night in the summer time. Life was so good.

I remember childhood being simple. I remember it being really wonderful and rich in experiences. I can think back to that time and miss the simplicity of it all. The way summer vacation felt. How Fourth of July always meant the Jersey shore and time away from “home” but I loved it all the same.

So, with all that being said. I’ve found it funny how I’ve really come into my own as a mom. There truly is nothing that can explain the way a Mother’s spirit feels when she can spend sweet precious time with her kids. Tonight, I asked my husband to give me 5 minutes so I could change the sheets and as I threw the top sheet up in the air, I instantly flashed forward in time, to a time where my kids will be grown. Where my kids won’t be jumping on top of the sheets and the comforters when I throw them up over the bed to make it. Where my kids won’t be laughing or screaming or running through the upstairs naked, or even whining for that matter. Where I’m not threatening to take a toy away if Maverick doesn’t brush his teeth, where I’m not gasping every time Ace falls as he’s learning the way to walk. There will be a time we will surely miss this crazy, unchartered, endless days and sleepless nights. So soak it up.

Soak. It. Up, I said! Say yes more. Say no less. Be who these babies need NOW. Put your phone down. Take tons of pictures. Let them know you’re in love with them. Turn the tv OFF OFF OFF. Be their best friend. Let them stay up. Let them eat dirt instead of microwaved cheese filled hot dogs 🤮. Who cares if there’s a mess, it’ll surely find it’s way to be tended to during the 8 months of winter 😂 tell them another story, read another book, play another game, be funny, enjoy yourself, while enjoying them, because NOW will never be here again, and now that they’re asleep and I’m writing this blog, tomorrow they’ll never be as little as they were today and man, that just stabs in my heart a little too hard.  So be the best mom you can be. Give them more experiences and less things. Dig in the dirt. Eat dinner outside. Water the pavement. Flag the ice cream man down. Kiss their scrapes, don’t forget to apply and reapply their sunblock, make another play date with their favorite friend, sing with them, dance like a fool with them, laugh when they’re funny, make them smile the MOST, and give them a good old fashion summer. The kind you know you’d live again and again in a heartbeat if you could 🌈🎏☀️ 

God bless America AND you, and stay safe my friends 🇺🇸🤗

Guys. It’s been a minute. But I finally found my way to the depths of the depression phase in the cycle of my grief. Yup, 80 degree weather, sunshine, summer, all my favorite factors around me still couldn’t save me from the chokehold of depression. Good news is, I’m passing through the anger phase, though I do find myself sometimes in a little tropical storm of very bad and scary feelings, and then the next and “final” stage is acceptance. Wow do I look forward to that. But for now, here we are. Down in the valley of depression. And I gotta tell you. It sucks. It’s scary. It’s scary for me and for Dan and to most the other people in my life they just plain don’t understand how I could possibly still be sad. Some people still don’t listen when they ask me questions, and I answer, but I answer anyway. Thing about me is I’m not a one word type of chick. I dive deep. My words get soaked with tears. I can wring my soul out with the amount of times I’ve sobbed over this enormous absence. My face gets wrinkly. My body goes stiff. It’s just an ugly way to be. But this is who I am right now. This is what I came here to experience this time. I truly never thought I’d have to do so many hard things alone. Make these huge, incredible decisions for the rest of my life, rootless and without a mom. And well really, without a father either. It’s been since November that I’ve seen him or heard him speak. He hasn’t seen my kids and hasn’t a care in the world to try and make things right. Tells people I’m the one missing out. But that’s his story I suppose, not mine.

So here we are, 4 days before the 2 year anniversary that I watched my beloved and strong mother be taken off of life support, and within an hour, I watched her take the most excruciating last breaths. It’s like war inside my head when I think of the images burned into my brain. It’s a war I don’t wish on anyone. Matter of fact, I wish when everyone else’s mom passes on, that she’s one hundred and ten years old and drifts away peacefully in her sleep.

This month I’ve finally reached the end of a really scary scenario I found myself in with my littlest baby. I was knocking down doors searching for answers that could have easily scared me; but long story short GOD is ultimately GOOD, and Ace; and Maverick alike, are healthy and robust little boys that will do great and important things in their lifetimes. And I get to be their mom. I get to be with them and my husband, my brother and my sister. My extended families that give a shit about me and mine. Sisters who call me and listen to me whimper on the other end. And sit and listen, and say little but so much. Sisters who drive hours in the car for one first birthday party and spend one beautiful morning together talking and holding our babies. Sisters that ask how they can help and stop in, and hug, and watch my babies on a moments notice. A sister who literally saves my life every damn day. She gets me in my darkest night. Loves me and celebrates me when I’m shining. She loves on my babies hard in the moments where I feel too sad to move. Allie, I hope you know how much I appreciate exactly who you are. My brother, my mighty strong brother who helps me look at things in a different light. Calls me at the exact minute I start to feel down because we’re just wired like that. My sweet and steady husband who has only broken once in the last two years, and remains a constant, a rock, an absolute angel to me. I love you endlessly. A nana and papa who somehow manage to spread their love like absolute WILD FIRE to all of us and me and my babies.

I mean, hey. This may not seem like a pretty, feel good post but it’s real. Because the absolute disaster that was the worst day of my entire life? It happened. And it’s woven inside my soul and it runs through my veins. Most days aren’t SO hard, but the hard days are damn near crippling to me. I don’t expect any differential treatment from the rest of the world, because I surely am nothing special. But what I’m trying to say is – I have a lot of good. Like an absolute shit ton of good. And I’m trying so hard to focus on that good, to make my heart a happier place, to make my soul feel big and weightless again. To help declutter some of the sad mess from my brain. So I just want to thank the ones who showed up during the worst time and n e v e r left. For the ones who may remember me one way, and are growing through the pain with me while I find my new self. For the ones who never ever signed up for this but are riding the waves of grief with me the best way they know how.

Life is certainly unchartered. I certainly didn’t ask to have this sad situation come rip my life up and spit me back out, I didn’t ask to change, but this is what happened for me. Life is up and down and messy and it hasn’t been neat for me since, idk probably I was 14/15 years old. But here I am, living the best life I can and trying to manifest my sadness and hurt into something greater than me. Because that’s what my mother always did.

To my mother, my queen. You. Are. So. Missed. You are missed on the good days and especially on the hard days. Missed on the days I see coming and the days that show up out of nowhere. Mama, you are loved through all of time and space. I love you a little bit more every day that goes by. I hate having to live without you, and to make and do and celebrate and despair without you. And sometimes? To sit in a room full of people and feel so lonely because you’re still gone? That may be one of the hardest realizations to feel. I wish you could be here physically. If only I could touch you, hear you laugh and watch you hold my babies. Share with you the good news and ask your advice on the hard stuff. To sing karaoke with you on a Wednesday night. To have you sit in my chair at work and complain the water is too hot. To order your tea on the way to your house on Mondays. Ugh. To reminisce about these things is just so awful. I just. miss you. I love you. And mama, I still needed you here.

Sometimes you just have to write. To remember a time in life. To be able to look back to a moment in time and sit in the words and feel them. To sink into a moment where you felt good. Things aren’t perfect, matter of fact there is so many cards up in the air right now most days I feel dizzy from the chaos, but in the midst of all that chaos? I feel like there is finally good on my horizon. Like I can look ahead and see no obvious road blocks. Like I honestly some days have anxiety because there isn’t much to have anxiety over so I stew over everything. Or I stew over nothing? Imagine that! Mostly I write to get my feelings out on paper. There was a time I was in such shock that I don’t even remember writing. Then there were bouts of sadness where I wrote to remember a time I was sadder than I currently was. Also I have often been, too sad to even write at all. I feel happy and I feel scared all at once but such is life with anxiety. So anyway. Just a quick check in.

I met two angels recently. I met a wonderful woman who is loving as she is strong. Reminds me of my mom, and mostly my grammie. Or maybe what my mom would have been like if I ever got to know her in her late 60s. Weird to think that I’ll never see my mom old and gray. However, I met her and she talks to me and she listens to me and she’s helping me in ways nobody should have to. She’s teaching me how to help myself and find the answers within me. She’s teaching me that the word no is very powerful and quite the healthy word to have in your vocabulary when used with love. She’s taught me that if I can’t retrieve a memory, it’s because it doesn’t exist. She’s taught me about the difference between sympathy and empathy. She’s taught me I have a cave I’m allowed to safely sit in when my emotions become more than I can handle. She’s teaching me things about me, and she’s teaching Dan things about me too. She’s magnificent and I simply adore her. She’s angel #1.

Angel #2 is your modern day hippy doctor. She’s kind and beautiful and she told me the space we were sharing was a safe place for me. She spent 52 uninterrupted minutes with me and she’s exactly who my babies need to help me raise them well. I drove all of 40 minutes through these windy roads on a very hot and sunny day in May, and I was convincing myself I’d never drive back there because driving this far for a doctor is crazy when my other pediatrician was less than a mile from my house. How could I make sense of driving this far in the winter? Once I met this angel doctor, I realized I would drive to the ends of the earth to meet with her again. She let me feel vulnerable and she let me cry. She searched my face and sat down on my level and listened to me. She told me I’m crazy, and told me she’s crazy too. Angel number 2 quieted my mind, my fears, and fed me the very words I needed to feel nourished, to feel understood.

I’m not sure why it’s all happening now, while I’m in the very depth of my grief. Why my therapist, my doctor, and, (not coincidental at all) my husband initiated the beginning of a new endeavor that has opened up his eyes, ears and mind to this amazing world of positivity, are all crossing our paths and also some very sacred lines, all at this very special time, but they are working with us, and for us. I’m being reborn in a way, reborn into a positive peaceful place. Where my brain is learning how to produce thoughts that produce words that produce action. The stars in my sky are actually lining up and my brain is working with my heart to become a better, more positive person.

I also downloaded a book recently called “unfuck yourself” and I gotta tell ya, it goes hand in hand with everything else I’m telling you about. How the power of positive thoughts can legitimately change what actually happens out loud. There’s a new path for me. And I don’t know why some things have happened the way they have. And I may NEVER understand it, but as for now I am in a state of finding myself and making that version the best rendition of me I possibly can inside this lifetime. I’m in this new headspace where a light has been shed. A switch has been flipped. And a corner is being turned. I am willing and I am able to manifest whatever I want and it all begins inside a very broken heart. A heart that is mending beautifully and in due time. And these angels I’m meeting along the way? They are teachers with real, valuable, life altering lessons and I’ve never been more ready to learn. My goal is to look at a risk, instead, as an opportunity and to look at a challenge as an adventure. I certainly cannot change the past but I can make my future worth the pain I’ve endured. If for nobody else, for my Maverick. For my Ace. And for the most loyal man I’ve ever known. I’m ready for the sunshine and to show my heart to the same world that showed me the greatest darkness I’ve ever seen.

** some food for thought, my brain blurbs **

The people placed on your path carry with them, lessons. They will continue walking against you until your lesson is received. Once the lesson is LEARNED they will either leave you be, or walk with you.

To be self-ful is to take care of yourself without being selfish.

No is a strong and powerful word when used with love.

You can choose to grow a positive brain or a negative one. Be mindful of your choice, as there is scientific evidence that your brain can grow actual hardware to then help navigate every day instances. It can be the difference between life or death. Happy children and angry children. Good memories and bad.

The lack of love from a parent can rumble through the darkest corners of your heart, don’t be afraid to be loved by those you still physically have.

It feels damn good to be vulnerable.

At the very bottom of your grief, you teeter on an itty bitty fine line of falling to the depths of depression. It’s ok to sit there for a little while, as long as you come out, even for a little while, even if it’s on auto pilot. Eventually, you will climb your way out, up to the other side. Blood. Sweat. And tears.

Sympathy is sitting in a cave of emotions with someone and soaking their sadness up like a sponge, wallowing in it and becoming stagnant there. Empathy is going down to the cave, touching it, seeing it, saying ‘hey, I feel for you, over there in your cave, so I want you to know I love you and I’m here for you but I’m gonna stay out of that cave of yours!’

There are about 50,000 thoughts that run through the average persons brain in one day. Our self talk even while we brush our teeth is important. Be willing to start the journey to happiness. After all happiness is a journey, not a destination 💙