Love is lots of things. Love goes through stages. Slowly, and fast. Peaks and valleys. Love goes through laughter and tears and smiles and ugly cries. Love is present and love can get lazy. Love can fill you up. Love can knock you down. Love, for me has become lots of things I never, ever, thought it would be.

Love is cleaning dishes.

Love is shutting the door when you brush your teeth.

Love is making the coffee.

Love is a perfectly toasted bagel.

Love is finding the toothpicks. And the syrup. And the ketchup.

Love is not screaming when a pen burst in the laundry.

Love is knowing how to get pen out of favorite clothing. (Hairspray, hi)

Love is finding out your pregnant together.

Love is boozy nights dancing by the fire on a warm autumn night.

Love is waking up with the baby.

Love is asking for help.

Love is asking for opinions.

Love is buying matching slippers.

Love is putting the baby to sleep.

Love is saving a plate.

Love is making his plate at a buffet only to find out he made the exact same plate.

Love is reading one more book.

Love is telling the same story every night.

Love is searching for new stories.

Love is not farting in front of your wife. (Thanks babe)

Love is an unexpected phone call from your best friend’s dad.

Love is not enough money in the bank, but security of not needing money because you have love.

Love is a new home.

Love is a tjx bill.

Love is long drives with no words and lots of connecting.

Love is reconnecting.

Love is making sure he feels loved.

Love is telling him you need more.

Love is best given and received.

Love is getting a giant ball of play-doh thrown at your head and not losing your shit, then actually finding it funny.

Love is humongous and overwhelming.

Love is purest from your child, and your dog. 

Love is letting go.

Love is holding on.

Love takes patience.

Love needs the water where the grass isn’t green.

Love is sometimes lost.

Love sometimes dies.

Love gives you light.

Love gives you hope.

Love makes you believe.

Love is learned.

Love is taught.

Love can be broken and abused.

Love comes out stronger.

Love can never break you without your consent. 

Love is more.

Love is bigger than you.

Love is sometimes not equal.

Love is respect.

Love is all knowing.

Love is having to say you’re sorry.

Love evolves.

Love lives on.

Love is forever changing, and growing.

Love is a legacy you build and then leave behind. 
My compilation of love comes from many sources. I know I blessed to be able to say that. I have been on the receiving end of love and I’m always on the giving end. I realize now that love is my language, my religion, my belief. Love is always an option somewhere for me. Even when I think it’s absolutely nowhere, love shows up. Love comes from myself, my father, my husband, my son. My sister and brother. My. Sweet. Mother. I hope to always feel the love I have in my heart in all its different ways. I want to spread love in everything I do. I want you to feel this love today, too 👑

Welllll, we turned our heat on two nights ago. Because WINTEMBER IS HERE! Just kidding! There is zero excitement for the cold except for the couple days it’s actually weather perfection! Where you can mix dresses and boots and sweaters and dark ass jeans by morning but by noon you are withering away into a sweaty mess 🙂 no but seriously. Fall fashion is my fav fav favorite season to dress. The plaid, the flannels, the booties, excuse me, shabooties as Rita always called them 🙂 the floral prints, the touches of harvest and Halloween. God it is more magical I think than Christmas! Although my love for sequins all days is strong, December takes the sequins cake.
Ugh I digress. Ok. I have to say it. It’s sad that we live in a society/world that we have to fear speaking our minds. That someone (read everyone) will take offense. Be it that I want to talk about why I like Trump, or why I hate Trump, I should be allowed to say it! We still do live in that country right?! I thought freedom of speech was still one of my rights! And yes I know it is but not without the cost of a thousand opinions and other free thoughts trying to belittle my very own. Lucky for you that’s about all I’ll say about politics EVER. Because that’s just not me.

What I will always talk about is being better, and doing better especially when you KNOW better. And if you are reading this, I hope by now you know better.

Buuuuut, if ya don’t, lemme school you real quick. (God! Rita is falling out of my mouth today)

These are some things that set you apart as a fantastic adult – loving your children more than you love yourself. Not blaming other people or things for your daily attitude. Helping someone without expecting any help in return. Giving, be it your time, your love, or a bag of clothes, just give and feel how good it feels. Being present. Put your damn phone down and look at your child!!! Or your husband, or your plate of food without snapping it or instagramming it. Being diverse, even if it’s with the dinner you are preparing, your husband will love you for it and your tastebuds will thank you! Doing something out of your box every week, for me this week it will be returning to the gym – the Y, which I couldn’t be more excited for. Asking for help!!! Ask your dad to watch your baby and plan a spontaneous date night with your boo. ((Hello Blake SHELTON Thursday!)) Which brings me to my next idea, being spontaneous! Make dinner and then make reservations, it’s almost like two indulgences of free treats in one! Save the prepared dinner for Friday night and pop out for pizza midweek! It’s ok to step outside our CZ. 

In fact we as women need that, thrive on that, live for that, and then, say it with me, we are BETTER because of it!! Better wives, mothers and coworkers. Ok, more things that make you a fantastic adult – support your friends. Just do it! If one of your sisterfriends is having a horrible week, bring that betch a bottle of her favorite wine, leave it on her doorstep because you can totally afford to do it. Actually, I bet a bottle of wine is probably in your pantry right now, and you have 10 minutes to go out of your way at least one day this month, and, bonus! You can leave your kids in the car when you run up to her door 🙂 She’ll be surprised and delighted and won’t mind that you’re not staying to drink it with her! Don’t wanna bring her wine? Then support her small business! Buy the rustic sign/headband/tummywrap/young living oils/facecream or go and get your hair done by her. And when you’re doing business with her, treat her like the hard working, ass-busting professional she is! Don’t ask for a discount, don’t expect a discount, and maybe even give her a little extra because, well she’s your GIRL  and you should want to help women in small business! Don’t have any friends like this? (Lies, we all have a friend like this) then send her a good old fashion piece of snail mail. Or bake her a pie. Oh hell, buy her a pie since I can already hear the scoffing about pie baking. Just support your fellow woman! If we can’t have eachother’s backs then what the hell are we even doing? We are mothers and wives. Daughters of great women. Aunts to precious little girls and boys. We are shaping the f’ing future. More is more. Compliments, little gestures, little tokens of love become the most special and rare treasures in this world. And you know what will feel so much better than being lucky enough to receive one of these R.A.O.K? MAKING THEM HAPPEN. Being the one to make shit happen. Being the change we all can agree needs to happen in this scary world. And fine, if you can’t think of one girl in your life that you want to be a part in bettering her day, buy a box of donuts and bring them to your nearest construction site. Too lazy for that? Buy a coffee for the person behind you in line. 

Just stop! Stop being complacent, silent, entitled, booooring, self righteous or lazy. 

I like to think I’m gaining this unapologetic approach to life. I know I have my mother behind me pushing me forward, and making me speak up for myself. And making me not tone who I am down. And I love her for that. This life is a different world for me now. Some days it still sucks that I don’t have a mom. But I walk through every day watching how others live, and realize that however much we once butt heads, I respect my mom for raising me right. Come to think of it, my mom lived every day like it was her last. She loved with every ounce of her being. She spoke her mind, said inappropriate things, stirred the pot, and shot straight from the hip. She wore her heart on her shirt sleeve and had loyalty to her family like no other. Her relationships were paramount, the utmost important thing to her. The way she gave love is unmatched by anyone I know. 

She taught me to respect my elders, “I’m the mother that’s why” 

How to not eat like a fat ass “Brianna is that you in the pantry again?” 

And how to love. “I do it because I love you” 

I’ll forever miss being raised by her through my adult years. She was the kitchen commander and the best teacher of love, and of respect. 

So maybe I’m saying be more like Her. Because she was pretty fucking great 🙂 

You’re allowed to be a mess in front of people who truly love you. It’s ok to fall apart in front of people who know how to put you back together. It’s in the nature of some to hate on others successes, don’t let them into your life, and do not let them bring you down. if you’re lucky, you have a few humans who actually know what empathy is, and when you have friends and family who lay down beside you when you’re down, you’re higher in that moment then ever before, because you have them and they have you. Life is hard enough. If there are people who make it harder, learn the lesson they’ve been sent to teach you, and move along. Sometimes it’s necessary to love from a distance. It’s just as necessary to let go of grudges. Boundaries are the outline of love. Love is the heart of everything that matters. The littlest tiniest bit of love can go so far, so why not spread that. 
#endofseasons #newbeginnings #wisdom #openminded #speakyourtruth

Fridays come in like a punch to the gut. Like a wrecking ball. Like a dark heavy cloud. I start the day off, two feet out of the bed, down to start the coffee, and then after that, some days it’s a mess. It’s tears and weird sounds and breathing that hurts. It’s trying so hard not to call my dad, because he could be having a good day, a good moment. It’s people asking me to do things and me panicking at not knowing how to tell them I just can’t commit to anything because this is all too much. The very nothingness of someone’s former constant presence is ALL. TOO. MUCH. 
Today is a hard day. I thought to myself yesterday how I haven’t cried in a few days, that I hadn’t felt that heavy cloak of heartbreak. That maybe I’m turning a corner. And here I sit today in pajamas still, trying to figure out what exactly I’m doing. I’m texting with my sisterwife and she is doing an excellent job of listening and saying exactly the right things. Which is telling me I’m ok, and it’s ok to be sad, and that I’m worth it all. I’m crying while texting and my loving little boy is moving my hair out of my face and telling me “look mommy, the sunshine is out don’t cry!” Am I ruining him? It’s my new greatest fear. Is too much of a sad mom a bad thing? I think so; though I’d rather have a sad mom than no mom. 
Ugh. It’s all falling down today. And people try to keep me busy which is just so sweet and on a surface level so so helpful. Until it’s not. Because keeping busy just prolongs the being alone part. And as much as the being alone, or feeling alone in a house full of people still feels like the loneliest thing I could think of; I still must feel this lonely feeling until it lessens, because that is how grief works. Because people who want me to be numbing my pain with Zoloft just saves me my pain for later, when I least expect it, and likely won’t want it or even have a clue of how to handle it then. Because I don’t know how to handle it now. But people are “more understanding” now. And by more understanding I mean not very understanding at all. So I just invite the pain now, because I don’t want to be like this forever. So I’ll skip the busy, and I’ll certainly skip the fucking Zoloft, thanks. 
I am a walking, living, working, breathing, grieving person who has to still be a mom, a professional, a wife, a daughter and a sister. I try to stay strong and give every last ounce of my happiness out to everyone. I try to understand that even though I may not be having a good day, Allie and Chris are, so I have to be strong for myself those days. I am the personification of these here quotes ~ “don’t judge her, you have no idea what storm God asked her to walk through” – “never look down on anyone unless you’re helping them up.” And all of us, collected as a human race should be kind and gentle to whoever we come in contact with. Thanks everyone for bearing with me through the very darkest time in my life. If I sound unlike my regular pleasant and happy go lucky self, I know. Please don’t point it out. I’m trying to steady my footing on this gigantic mountain that has been placed on my path. 

Today I’m missing all the things that only you could say to make me feel better. To make me feel right. Or tell me when I was wrong, but you still love me more anyway 💙

Can anybody tell me again why we all wanted to grow up so bad? Because when I was little? I still had a mom. And I didn’t know what anxiety was. I never needed a sleeping pill or an artillery of retaliation quips ready for everyone’s unwanted/unnecessary/unwarranted comments, advice, and opinions. I didn’t say prayers for more than a few minutes when I was little, now I can’t get through my long laundry list of worries and wishes without falling asleep with a little nudge from said sleeping pill. (Disclaimer, I haven’t turned to pills for any other reason since my mom has passed, not even a handy dandy Xanax, #gome #grievinggood) Last time I checked THIS, is modern day adulthood, or “adulting” as the kids call it. 
Sometimes I just want to throw a chair out the window and not worry about the glass shattering, or the chair breaking, or worrying that my husband may check me into four winds if I did so. But sometimes four winds sounds like a grand and glorious fucking vacation from this world. I don’t throw the chair, because normally a pedicure or a trip to express does the trick for my decompressing after a difficult day. Difficult days are also a far cry from what they used to be. My biggest concern in highschool was what song I was gonna play in the parking lot leaving school my senior year. My biggest concern after that was who was gonna chalk my ID for whatever Troy bar we were definitely getting into that night. 
We live in a time where everyone is an automatic expert in EVERYTHING because they can use google. Comments have ruined the Internet. Husbands sometimes turn down sex. People say rude things. Sometimes you feel like calling into work. You expect everyone to be well mannered, motivating, caring, independent, strong minded, empathetic, loving people who encourage their fellow human to be virtually GOOD, and kind. Then there are the meangirl (or guy) type and what I like to refer to as hyenas that need to be re-acclimated to the real world, and reminded of their responsibility to the human race. What happened to women empowering women? (We should be more like men) What happened to being genuine? What is normal?? Why are there people out there being callous and rude and always needing to be the one upper and or know-it-all in your family or group? God I am SICK of it. And another little shoutout to my mom for being the woman who raised me to be who I am. Everything she was and everything she wasn’t made me who I am and damn, am I happy God picked her to raise me.
I think I’m a pretty well rounded, empathetic and caring person. My intentions are always 100% genuine and I try to live a life I’m proud of. I use my manners, I compliment, and I praise. If someone is near me and they are crying, you can bet your bottom dollar I’m crying too. I like to do my best every day and make someone (everyone) around me happy. Sometimes, people don’t like confident people, and that’s ok. It’s not about them. Some, less evolved/low vibration people think that by trying to rain on your parade, other people won’t want to be part of the attraction that is you. 
………. (I find this to be) WRONG! Try again. What’s the saying? Something about trying to dull someone’s light won’t make yours shine any brighter? Bingo, my friends. Bingo. 

Being a grown up is awesome. It’s rewarding, it’s vacations with my family. It’s money in the bank account and sometimes splurging on a new Michael Kors. Being a grown up also sucks. It’s challenge after challenge, it’s a vacation without my mom, it’s money spent on necessity rather than a want. 
It can get pretty messy up here in grownup land. All of it. The friendships, the bedtime routine, the bank account, the sex life. And I’m ok with it. I’m ok with putting it all out there because I’m a human, just trying to get through this wonderful, tragic season of my life called 32. It helps to know someone in this life is feeling what I’m feeling. Understands how I understand. And wishes we didn’t spend the easier times hoping to be grown ups one day. 

Another bad day, and I’m on the couch unwinding/decompressing because although at 10:30 I was exhausted and ready for bed, my dog escaped in the three minutes she wasn’t gated,  pissed on the floor again, and it ran underneath my purse, Mav’s diaper bag, and inside my bag full of color and developer. #fuckyoustella

I’m ok when I’m crying. I really am. I actually kind of have to be, and once it’s all said and done, it usually lasts around an hour and then I feel relief for a little. And I’m okay with my sadness, because it’s the blueprint for a love that once was whole inside me. What’s a little difficult is how quickly it washes over me, and how easily it comes flowing out of me. I used to have an easier time navigating,  think of it like an up to date gps system of sorts. Now my map has disconnected roads and longer routes, lots of road blocks and detours, rain, and shifty roadwork but I still have a sense of where I am.
Today was a very hard day. And I almost want to say shame on you Brianna. Shame on you for putting yourself out there in any way for anyone to assume you are “ok” because as “ok” as I am, I am still completely fucking lost. I’m writing this because my eyes are burning and my soul is seething tonight. Some days are just hard. Some days I want to sit in a pile and eat chocolate by the bar and drink wine in complete silence. I want to tell every single person who calls me to kindly leave me alone and just be there for me when I’m ready. I want to be so selfish and take time for myself. I want to drop Mav off for two hours and not feel guilt or rushed. In that two hours I want to make the 7 phone calls I’ve either ignored or haven’t made, get a pedicure and peruse Marshalls for the majority of that time. 
I sometimes talk to myself now. When something is making me mad I find myself talking out loud to myself. I repeat myself a lot. I start more conversations saying “wait tell me if I already told you this.” I ask my husband if it’s scary to watch me go through this; because as much as he has been a rock for me, he can’t go through this with me because he simply hasn’t experienced it. I can’t make a decision to save my life, (and it fucks with me hardcore, I have a full blown anxiety attack where my hands are shaking and then I know it’s just a matter of time before I’ll start crying so I just sit myself down and invite the tears to fall.) over what my plan is for my next day off. Over what I want to do this weekend. Over what to make for dinner. #hatethissomuch 

See the problem with grief is, you have one good day and everyone thinks boom she’s over it, she’s laughing. No. Dead wrong. It’s just that I’m sick of being sad and not feeling entirely like my former self and I need a release too. My work is an amazing outlet for me (work and Mav are the absolute remedy for me right now.) I get to basically make money for a hobby of mine every other day. I get to be creative and use my talent and release some pent up stuff. I get to talk to so many people in a day’s work that it’s more beneficial for me to do that then to see a therapist. Wanna know why? Because I believe a therapist won’t tell me anything I don’t already know. The one thing about me, blessing and a curse, is that I’m always so acutely aware of my issues, I just have a problem with acting on the changing to fix it part. I’m a stubborn, smart, confident, very conscious of others kinda girl, and I pride myself on knowing how to act in many situations, which brings me to what I think is my best quality: Being the (second) most empathetic person I know. 

So yeah, it sucks. My life fucking sucks right now. Of course I have the most supreme honor of being a mother to my Mav. Of course I have a wonderful husband. Of course I still have my dad and my brother my sister and many family members through so many beautiful marriages in these families I’m blessed to belong to. And of course I am SO FUCKING grateful for these things. But the loss of my mother has blown the bottom out of a very strong foundation I was standing on. Because I was standing alongside her. Because she always, always was there for me, even when I didn’t deserve that support. She stood next to me, and let me lean on her. She held me up when I was weak, or frail in my emotions. She pulled me when she knew I needed the extra encouragement. She pushed me when I needed some balls. God she had the biggest balls my mom. And when I didn’t want her to even do anything, she would go above and beyond and behind me to stand up for me, because I was hers. My. God. One tough woman she was. 

So I’m just sad. And it hurts my entire body. And it makes me cry. I’ve heard some noises come out of my mouth that have actually scared me. And sometimes, the absence of her? …..man. It makes me not want to go on. 

But she would pull me by my hair and tell me I’m going the fuck on, and she’ll let me know when it’s my time, because “she’s the mother.”

I just miss you. And I still needed you here. What about if I get pregnant again? Who will I call first? Who will come to my appointments with me? Who will help me and hold me through 43 hours of labor and 2 hours of pushing? Who mom? I don’t even care because it won’t be you and that kills me. What about when it’s late and I’m fighting with Dan and all I wanna do is talk to you because you just understood me more than I ever gave you credit for? What about Christmas? What about all the little special things we’d bring to each other on a regular basis because “we just couldn’t leave it in the store” it’s just so completely hollowing to know I will never feel your hug again. I still can’t call you. No more pictures. Karaoke nights. It’s all just a memory now. And I hate that now they’re only memories but I love them all at once. I promise I’ll always keep them safe. I promise to always keep your name fresh on my tongue. There is a place, so deep down inside me that longs to be your baby again. To relive our story all over. To cherish the love I felt from you. To give you more love than I did. The darkest corners of my brain have you in them. The deepest part of my heart is broken. I long for the day I will reunite with you. I feel less and more on a whole new level. I feel robbed and cheated but I know where you are this was all part of our plan as mother and daughter. I remember when I first had Maverick, and all I did was stare at him and tell him ‘I love you’ probably 150 times a day, you would say “I wish you told me you loved me as much as you say it to him!” And mama. I wish I did too. I wish I did too. 

Wanna Know how I know I’m having the best summer ever? Because not only have I learned all about heartbreak and depression, but today I get to break in my 32 years with a ROOT CANAL! HOLLER!
Kill me. Seriously. 90 minutes in a dentist’s chair is painful to even think about. But to me what is more scary and painful than the dentist is this: (some) PEOPLE.
I’m almost two months deep without having my mom, and you wouldn’t believe the lessons I’ve learned. Yes of course I have come to start accepting the greatest heartache I’ve ever endured. Boyfriends who were drug addicts and best friends turned idiots have nothing on this kind of heart trauma… But you know what’s just about as bad as losing someone you love? Nosey people. People who invite themselves into your life dressed like pretty little sheep when in fact they are scary, selfish wolves. 
People who are more interested in why you’re sad than why you’ve, idk maybe been happy in the last few years. People who open up the lines of communication only to the pull the plug after, for lack of a better expression, the novelty of my sadness has worn off and become less important to them.
I give you this, prodding assholes of the world; My sadness will never not be important, for it is a part of my very DNA now. And I hate that. And sometimes the good person inside me forgets that some people will never, ever change, and that is very sad for them. When people weasel their way into your life because a door has been broken open, and in this case the door is my heart, and my welcome mat is vulnerable, tattered and sad but they wipe their dirty feet on it and waltz right in anyway. I hate to sound so rude and cynical but for fucks sake I lost my mom and I now understand that saying no to someone or something you just don’t feel like dealing with or doing, is saying YES to yourself. 
So here is me saying yes to myself. I have had the worst year of my life. More tragedy than triumph, and somehow I still wake up, brush my teeth, work, clean my house, love my husband, raise my son and continue the role as daughter and sister to the greatest people I know. Because I am strong, I am important, I am worthy of being happy, and with all of that, I am allowed to be sad, and sometimes cautious of people with weird and selfish intentions. For now, I have this special and magical inside information that I wish I didn’t, but am starting to realize that it is a gift to know what I know, and a gift worthy of having after watching one of the most excruciating things I’ll ever see. Although I would give that gift of knowing, back at any cost to just squeeze my mom one more time. I know it’s one of the greatest lessons she left for me here on earth, to live and love like it’s your last day here.
My life is not a spectacle, or a topic of conversation. Sometimes it’s happiness, and Mav being hilarious, and flowers on my door step. Then there are days where I pour a shot of captain and cheers a candle I lit for my precious and gorgeous mother, only to cry over its rim and sit on the very stormy shores of my heart shattering sadness because I can’t make a simple decision anymore. 
With all this being said. I am so thankful for the people who I know are real, and pure and true. I’m thankful for the way you pick me up, and sense when I’m sad, and know why I say no to plans. I’m thankful you are holding tight to my pieces and keeping them safe for me as I learn how to pick them back up. I also know that if I forget the way they go back together that you will help me remember. I hope you know I love you more than I can ever explain in words. That I’m thankful for the ways you’re keeping me safe, and keeping me up.