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

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

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

For you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some people live a really pretty life. Right? It’s beautiful. There is money in the bank, beautiful fruit in the hanging scale for decorative purposes only. Their kids are healthy and happy and they work a pretty standard job. Home by 5 to do dinner with the family and done.

Some people have such a pretty life that they don’t know how to deal when the ugly comes. The ugly disrupts their reality, they’re perfect easy reality, and then they freeze.

What if instead of freezing and not dealing, instead, you dealt with the ugly in a pretty way? Put your beauty into where it matters. I never remember meeting someone and just because their house is pretty or their face is nice to look at thinking – wow this is my new favorite human.

Thank God I’m deeper than a puddle tho I guess. Good on me.

This time. This pause. This covid crisis. It has shed some major light on some major morals for me personally and for who I will include in my immediate circle going forward into my ✨new normal✨ if you will.

I want to be better. I want to hold space for what I’m missing most about my old life and go there first when I get back to it, but BETTER. I want to meet people only as deeply as they’ve met themselves but if that’s not aligning with where I’m trying to go, I truly think that’s no longer meant for me. Whatever that entails.

And that’s ok.

I know I post some shit that seems far the fuck out for most people. People who don’t want to challenge what they are spoon fed day in and day out and that is OK. I enjoy my freedom and my rights and the right to choose for my kids. My beautiful healthy kids. And thank GOD. I still live in a place where, mainly, I still have a few choices. Though one of the lights that has been shed is that NY is not my forever home. Big things are coming for the Phillips fam of 5 and I cannot wait to share.

And that’s cool. And if you don’t care? Honestly – that’s cool with me too.

All I’m trying to say is. This is a hard and trying time. I’ll even go out in a limb and say I’ve felt scared at times. Every single one of us. There are checks not coming, money not being made, and putting food on the table can be scary to think about. I have friends that have had to close their business and friends who have asked for help with meals being provided. I have friends who are dealing with family dying, without funerals or any closure. I mean I think one of the main things people are forgetting is that life is still going on. Scary big and mighty, life changing diagnosises are still happening. The world is still moving along, and some of us are far too concerned to think about and heaven forbid PRAY for these people who in the midst of the doom and gloom, it’s been even worse than “stay home and wear a mask” IMAGINE. That. That someone could have it worse than you. Some of us can’t. (And that’s ok too. Bless you for not experiencing the ugly in life)

I’ve LUCKILY, mainly been on the receiving end of the beauty in this. But I like to think it’s because the people I’ve chosen to put inside my very sacred space, is was and always will be intentional. For me, for my growth, for the way my babies are loved.

Damn this is all. It’s just. It’s all unknown. I read somewhere early on to treat this as if everyone is grieving a death, and then you will not be able to judge them. Because who would ever judge the way someone lost their mom? Their husband or wife? Their kids? A dear friend? You wouldn’t.

And while I agree with that, I still don’t like pretty people making an ugly situation, out to be somebody else’s problem.

Lovingly,

THIS LOOKS DIFFERENT FOR ALL OF US.

But. We are in this together. As long as we can keep our MINDS, as open as our hearts. And listen to another perspective. Or learn something new from a different source than channel 13/10&6. We will all come out better from this.

I promise.

Stay safe. Stay home. Think critically for yourself and your family. And wash your hands.

Peace, love and long tight hugs, from me☀️

It’s the eve of my first born’s 6th birthday.

And as usual. I’m up too late decompressing from a very busy day. Last night I asked my husband if he could give me 30 minutes of adult time tonight and, well. I didn’t get it. Because 5 short days ago, I was forced to stop working. And since then he’s been working like a dog. While I’m not going to excuse him for falling asleep and leaving the birthday magic to be left up entirely to me, I do understand him. Where his body is tired from manual labor, my body is tired from nursing babies. Where his brain is exhausted from being the boss the worker and every other job title that comes along with business owner, my brain is fried from the mental load of all that comes along with the title of mother. (How many times can a child say mom in one day? How many times will he cry and wake up the sleeping baby? Why do they wanna start fucking with eachother right before bedtime? How on earth can it only be 10am? What’s for dinner? What’s my husbands ETA? How is possible I Woke up with my boob hanging out again? Just. business as usual for a nursing mom… etc etc etc) We can all agree that this has been a tough. Fucking. Time. But what I won’t agree on is that we are all acting like the human race I was once proud to be part of. Normally I can get very wordy and flowery about things. But for this I don’t want my words to come across with warmth and love. I want them to come across very black and white. And this is IT – Be kind. Do one thing every day to help someone. Make a phone call to someone you miss. Give yourself grace. Ask for the transparency you need. Ask for help. I myself have called my credit card companies, called about what to do with my car lease, and I have been humbled to the floor by a very select group of people and clients since I’ve been forced to “pause.” AKA not work but also not be eligible for unemployment but also be responsible for my livelihood somehow?! I also have gone on a walk almost every day since I’ve been home from work and have found my happiness peaks during that time. I have worried about my son not having this awesome getaway for his birthday this year. Instead of harping on it, I asked my in-laws and my neighbors to help me surprise him in this weird social distance sort of way. (Still stressing over people driving by beeping and Mav not understanding why they can’t stay, but hey, it’ll be great 😅) I don’t have any answers, but I have a SHIT TON of questions. What I can provide is my opinion, and that is it. So here it is – Hey moms! You did a lot before the quarantine – stop feeling like you now have to add more to that load! It’s ok if you don’t reorganize your pantry/closets/spice rack/kids’ rooms and /or start the garage sale prep at this time. YOU DON’T HAVE TO TAKE ON ANYYY MORE. Don’t do a puzzle! Who has a table that is safe from kids in their house anyway?! What kind of shit is that?! Ok. What else? Stop engaging with bullshit on social media. Post a picture of your kids instead. Think of three things you HAD TO change and how it has positively affected you during this time. I am not too proud to say I have been snippy short and bitchy at times. I am a human. With three kids under 6. With no job. (I REALLY like my job) With a husband I have barely seen. Without parents. And I can still find a reason to bite my tongue and smile instead. I can still find time to dial 7 digits and call someone who means something to me. This is tough, but we are tougher. We will get through this. I just hope somehow it’s the wake up some of us needed and we can truly mark this pause as a time of growth and learn to give attention to what’s important. So my final thought is this: You can post all the live long day on social media about how amazing you are, how beautiful your house is, your newest designer belt, your this your that. But at the end of the day, you are who you are when no one is watching. You are your most shallow thought and your deepest fear. God sees all. And speaking of Him, I hope you’ve gotten back in touch with the man upstairs during this quarantine as well. It’s not too late to change. You can still be truly good, we are all a work in progress. Be well, stay healthy, and stay sane ☀️ As for me. I’m gonna go smooch all my kids because I am next level obsessed with them. And especially (tonight) the one who made me a mama. COUNT🙏🏼YOUR🙏🏼BLESSINGS!

Let’s talk about culture. By definition culture is this; (as a noun)

the customary beliefs, social forms, and material traits of a racial, religious, or social group. The characteristic features of everyday existence. The set of shared attitudes, values, goals, and practices that characterizes an institution or organization

All of that, in correlation to being a person, really hit home, but it was as a verb that truly spoke to me — to maintain in conditions suitable for growth.

As a woman, I’ll go out on a limb and tell you, we wear a lot of fucking hats. Mother, professional, SAHM, therapist, big sister, motherless adult child, sister in law, neighbor, oh; wife. Ya know. All that, and a bag of gmo-free/gluten-free/fat-free cape cod chips in size party bag.

There is a lot that goes into the cultivation of becoming a woman. There is planting seeds, for ourselves, for our children, for our husbands, for our future successes. There is the tilling, tending and caring for those seeds throughout all the changes we go through. From young lady to independent 20 something, to an engaged woman where we literally think and believe we have the world by the balls, to then becoming a wife, a teammate, and someone for a partner through the worst and best of life, til death to us part.

But there are still the seeds. The tending, the caring. And then you throw in the creation of a new life made from the love between your partner and you. And then, you quickly realize that the world now has YOU by the balls, and you need to somehow, through all of this MAINTAIN. In conditions. Suitable. For growth. have an attitude worth adjusting. A set of beliefs worth standing in with your convictions. A moral compass that always points NORTH.

The growth for you, your husband, your values, your morals, your CHILDREN, their morals and values, and the growth that one day will be seen as millions of little circles swelling out from the one before it, from one pebble thrown into a vast open sea.

You. Are the pebble. This world and all we touch is the vast open sea. We are all making ripples every single day. Some good, some bad. Some truly life changing.

Lately, at night I tell my babies that they can be absolutely anything they want to be. That their thoughts become their words and their words become their actions. I’ve talked about mantras and we say them many times a day with eachother. My oldest is just beginning to understand how thoughts become actions, my middle one listens intently and absorbs what he can, but from what I can tell, he is certainly more interested in biting his toe nails, and as for my little girl, these are the very beginnings of words and seeds being planted in her ears, her mind and her soul.

I know I am only one person. And my opinions aren’t for everyone, that’s why they are called mine. But every day I can find myself in a situation where I stop in my tracks, and think about what I’m about to say or do. Sometimes I carry through with what I thought I was gonna do, sometimes I don’t. I’m almost 36 years old and I still know when to check myself. When I may actually BE the problem. And how I can start becoming part of the solution. I’m not perfect, and I don’t have every answer, but when it comes to being deep down in my soul good, I can genuinely say I’m happy with myself. With the seeds I’m planting, the energy I exude, the people I choose, and who I give my love to.

Not everyone is worthy of your inner most best self, but everyone is worthy of peace. So since it’s been a minute since I’ve written, I kind of do this to check in with myself to walk myself through a hard season or lesson or loss, I present to you my take away:

Each one of us walking through life, be it Target, your local farmers market, or driving through your neighborhood, you hold within you an entire culture. A system of values and beliefs and morals. Legacies you’re living out and blueprints you are creating for your children to honor and live by, and eventually when they reach parenthood or adulthood, tweak, and make even better. So, try to remember this when you walk into someone who maybe didn’t hold the door for you, or let you cut in front in traffic, or didn’t smile at you back in the dollar spot at target. Give them your peace. Give them the grace you wish someone would give you. Pay it morally forward. Because this world has become a really scary place. Full of one uppers, opportunists, everything experts, fear mongering, violence, hatred and so much more darkness. And because of that, us good ones? We need to up our game that much more. To be the change we wish to see we must radiate our light, our God given light, out of us. Even when the world is dark.

There’s something to be said about surviving a trauma. You see the problem with it is, the trauma in its infant stages is fresh, on everyone’s mind. Your friends, your coworkers your family, your in-laws. They mostly, seem to get it. And much like when you bring a baby home, everyone is all warm and fuzzy over you and asking how the baby’s doing and asking how you’re adjusting.

Then. Well, it gets to be life as usual and the baby is a little older and on social media you look like maybe you got over the hump and you’re good and killin it. You even may have hosted thanksgiving or a birthday party and it looked like business as usual and everyone forgets to ask if you’re still doing ok. How the baby is. Ya know? So follow me.

So then, when the party’s over, and everyone is gone, your left with that surviving a trauma thing. Grief, depression, whatever you want to call it. It was born from a trauma and that trauma gave you a baby. Whether you like it or not, this baby, is now yours to get to know, feed, and nourish it and take good care of it. This is what trauma is. It’s a new piece of your DNA, brought to life via (for me a death) depression or anxiety and the lack of being able to explain why you’re like this now.

And here is the hard truth. Not many people CAN understand. They will want to, oh my God will they want to try and learn this new you. But the worst part is, you’re learning her too. And learning her is hard. And learning her without a set of parents, with three children under the age of 5, with the seasons changing in life and everywhere else, learning. Her. Is. Hard. And the pain sometimes brings your insides to a slow burning boil, and down to your knees in a heap of infant like emotions on the kitchen floor. And the tears roll hot and heavy down your face, onto your neck and into your sweatshirt. The tears are the echoes of love, the abandonment of strength, and sometimes weeks of pent up frustrations. But those tears are painted with promise. They stain your face with a new blueprint in how to navigate the sadness and overcome the stagnant waters you just released. The tears are the most supreme release of love and hate. Patience and doubt. The tears have washed your insides clean.

I pride myself on my mental strength. But as tough as I am, I am healing. Healing an entire lifetime of learned behaviors and guilt and trauma. And healing is ugly. Messy. Healing is disturbing and sad. And inside all those same words, healing, though fleeting for me right now, is so fucking beautiful in some moments.

So. Coming from a girl who was told to start zoloft one short month ago, I say – fuck that. And I also say, it’s ok to feel like you’re not ok. And feeling? It sucks sometimes. Especially the way a woman knows how to feel. Especially a woman who is mothering without a mother. I have navigated all my life’s trials without any medication and though this is not to bash anyone who needs a pill, or a drink, or a puff puff pass every now and again; I’m here to say I am zoloft free but heavy on the therapy these days. Heavy on the talking about something bothering me to its death. And then after its death into the cemetery 😂 because FEELINGS, manifest inside of us, and if you let the bad ones stay, you’re as good as DONE. And if I have something lingering around inside my head that shouldn’t be there, I talk til I can let it go.

Now again, I have no disrespect for anyone who pops a Xanax, or meditates, hits the gym, indulges in a flight of whiskey at happy hour on a Sunday, whatever it is and however it looks for you to feel healthy, mentally – I say DO IT. But for me? I’m gonna hit my lifeline and earth angel Margie for some mental health aerobics. I do it for myself. I do it to be a better mom. To be a better wife and sister. To continue to live this legacy I’m trying to build. And I do it because every day I am surviving. The loss of my mother. The loss of my father. And anything and everything those losses have affected inside my pocket of the world.

But don’t get it twisted, my kingdom, the one that sits on a little piece of land in upstate NY. This kingdom that has three little children whose minds are being molded and shaped by my husband and me. This little special kingdom of mine will forever be protected. Fiercely. Boldly. Loyally. And with a heart pounding, heart breaking love, I can just never seem to get into words.

Isn’t it odd that as a leaf dies during the change of seasons its colors are the most beautiful and vibrant at that point and then they’re gone?

I was sitting on my front porch bench this afternoon. After we did the breakfast and the clean up and the homeschool and the 8 diaper changes, 2 extra sets of teeth brushed on top of my own, 3 nursing sessions. One baby down for what would become a 3 hour nap, and one getting some vitamin D in the stroller in front of me as I mindlessly rocked the base of it with my foot.

And then I looked to the sky. So blue today. And then, I saw the most beautiful red and coral leaves on the top of a tree I wish I knew the name of. I suppose the name is irrelevant, but the tree’s lesson was anything but. If I had taken a picture of the moment, and then, if pictures could smell, the moment smelled hot like summer with that underlying wetness of a recent rain. Mixed with a little fresh driveway sealant, and the crispness of the shade in September.

And that’s when it struck me. Leaves are so beautiful this time of year. Gorgeous colors most trees never possess until the very leaves on their limbs are dying. These beautiful leaves are essentially taking their last breaths. Something so ugly, in human form, is so beautiful in nature. And that’s when I reflected on my own journey through loss, and then depression, and then acceptance, and how I’m learning to live a legacy.

My mother, my sweet and beloved mother. The one who would have absolutely ADORED dressing my baby girl up in clothes I myself can’t afford. The one who would swoop in when I’m at my lowest point and take my kids for the night. The one who would know all of this, before I even knew I needed her, would then come in, kiss me through my hair and tell me how beautiful I am and how proud she is of me. My mother, was like these leaves.

I swear my mother was more beautiful on her death bed than she was for the last 5 years before she left me. Psoriasis covered her body and she wasn’t the same woman she always was in those last few years. Her eyes told a story that the leaves tell. I heard these beautiful stories about my mother, full of life and color. Her friends shared so many things with me, that I still treasure, into this very moment in time. My mother’s death was ugly. I still remember how ugly it was. But today, when I felt hope in looking to the leaves to make her absence hurt a little less, it helped. Because right before you die, your colors burn through everyone you touch. Your light hits the high points, but the shadows tell a colder story still. And in the midst of the seasons changing, and my own depression sneaking back into the deepest darkest corners of my heart, I am reminded of love. I am reminded of my mother. I am reminded to live like her, letting my colors blaze as bright as the firey leaves, and letting my light change everything it touches. I am reminded to walk in the warmth. To speak warmth, attach to warmth and be the warmth. The changing of weather and sunshine dosage and saying so long to summertime always gets me. And a little bit more since she’s been gone. So here is my gentle and friendly reminder to check on the light in your life. Check on your strong friend. Reach out. Spend the money, call your friend. Make the time to be someone’s sunshine in the shade of a cold September day 💛

Couldn’t even tell you the last time I wrote but I think it wassss July?!

Life is WILD. Up at 5:30/6 every morning and the feet, the hands, the heart, the brain. They don’t stop. Got everyone to bed, and little miss Venice decided she wanted one more dream feed. So ya know, pulling a 17 hour shift. But this little GIIIIIIIIIRL. She. Is. An. ANGEL. Angel angel angel. Thank you God. Thank you universe, love and all the powers that be that brought her to me. I never knew how much I needed her. My GIRL.

Ace is still a frat boy, but making teensy weensy improvements here in week 9 of life with a new baby in town. Maverick has started KINDERGARTEN through homeschooling and we couldn’t be more in love with the freedom it’s giving our family. We still have a bedtime and a routine and we are learning all the things and making all new friends and everyone is thriving in our new little endeavor.

Dan is proud of me. I have full blown conversations with my dead mother. And my kids do the dougie all over my nerves from sun up til way past sun down and I still feel like the luckiest chick in the world because I have my children and my husband and we all have our health and for that, I am forever thankful.

Today I hung out with one of the most beautiful souls I’ve truly ever sat with. We nurses our babies over muffins, Starbucks and pasta salad, talked about our beliefs and our husbands and our children and food and weed and she left me all the little love treasures a heart could handle. And I thanked her for today but that didn’t seem good enough or sufficient enough so here I am blogging about her. Because she made me feel a little less like a frazzled, lonely, crunchy, weirdo mom, whose doing all the weird things, and more like a confident, sure, understood, smart and beautiful soul. Well, Erin – takes one to know one I suppose 🥰.

It’s a lot ya know? Since I lost my mom it’s been kind of a revolving door. People wanted to “be there for me” when in reality they were just being nosy and wanted to see what a girl with a dead mom was like. Then there were the family and friends who checked in and then suddenly checked the fuck out. Including one deadbeat father. Ok. So, then I tried to immerse myself in people I thought would make me feel whole when in reality. My family, my 3 kids. My husband. My sister and brother were the only ones who really understood. And honestly? Nobody else did. So I completely flooded myself with them, and for the last 3 years that was enough. But today? And in the last few weeks? I’ve realized I need something, aside from work, aside from my little clan, aside from being a mom a wife and a sister. I needed friends. Real friends with real deep conversations. No holds barred type territory. Ones who understand and are IN IT. The raw messy side of life. The raw and messy person who is me. Who want to understand my beliefs and convictions. Hell, they even AGREE with some of them! And I can’t tell you enough how happy I am to have an open heart for these exact people.

I talked to an old friend this week who I’ll be seeing this weekend. We did not shut up when we were on the phone together. We’ve never met each others’ husbands or kiddos but guess what? I can tell you we both already are in love with each others’ families. Also. Recently, I connected with a former client of mine who I now talk to a few times a week, I love listening to her passion and the way she talks may or may not remind me of my mom, and for that I will always keep her in my world. And lastly someone whose kind of always been someone I’m following through social media has come into my life and bumped me into this amazing realm of realization that, I’m ok. I’m 35 and a grown ass woman who can do with her life whatever she so shall please. I feel really good about where I am and welcoming some new minds and hearts into my life. I think I’m ready to have this new identity of Brianna. A truth seeker. A freedom fighter. A fierce girl mom. The quintessential boy mom. An amazing and solid wife. A woke-ass participant in a very scary society. And a human who has nothing but love to give. (Also loves target and amazon too much caffeine and NOT good at Pinteresty things. Ever.)

In the deepest pockets of my heart, and in the scariest corners of my brain, my worries, my plans, my dreams, my decisions. They’re all coming from a place with the purest love and the most pristine intentions. And it may seem like I’ve taken some extreme stances and measures in the last couple years and MAYBE I HAVE; but, I’m Rita’s daughter. And when she left, the game fucking changed for me. I’m steadfast in my beliefs. I’m not willing to turn a blind eye. And now I get to live in such a way, that when she looks down at what I’m doing, she can belly laugh with me, and smile at the difference I’m making.

I do this all for you my mama. You’re my strength every day.

Life is sort of settling? Is maybe the word? Like imagine all the most patient testing noises and touches, mixed with an obstacle course constantly at your feet, but at least now you’re coming to expect all the chaos coming at you literally 24 hours a day. And sleeping is literally/figuratively/actually a thing of your past now. Yes. This is my new normal.

I haven’t slept through the night in a solid 2 and a half months. First it was peeing 7x a night which prepared me for the up every 2-3 hours for the last 6 weeks. I wake up and my eyes hurt and my vision feels off for a little. The baby wakes up at 5:30 and is back down JUST in time for the boys to get up around 8. Bedtime is a full blown battle zone, and breakfast is for the fn birds. We’ve had Oreos, ice cream and chicken for breakfast in the last week alone and I ain’t too proud to brag about it. I’m clearly killing it. (Go me, spirit fingers, I’m the real mvp and every other power play is mine)

I know how blessed I am. I know that I am so lucky to have had 3 successful pregnancies turn into 3 healthy children. Who are beautiful, lovely and magical all at once. But I cannot help but think how much my mother would have loved to be here to witness it all. I cannot help but think how badly I want and need and crave her inside all the cute faces, funny pronunciations of words, adorable expressions, and inside all the times I let it all go and cry for her. Her relief, her comfort, her love.

I look into this baby’s eyes and I feel so understood by her. I’m looking at my new best friend. My future sidekick. My little goody girlfriend and the newest “Paula” as my mom and her sisters would call their favorite and most cherished besties. (Read an officer and a gentleman’s favorite line “way to go Paulaaaa!” at the end of the movie) But I just fucking miss my mom. I feel so robbed by not having her be a part of all of this. And often times, I still feel so misunderstood by even the people closest to me because honestly, until you lose your mom, your MOM. You will have no idea how hard it is. Yes the heart throbbing pain has lessened, and no I do not cry as often, but I lose her over and over again in new ways every day that life marches on with out her. And for me, that sucks. And for Venice, and Ace and for Maverick? That sucks.

All we have in life are the people who participate DAILY in loving and supporting us, wanting us around them, wanting to spend good quality times and make lifetime type memories with, even in all the chaos. I’ll never be able to put into words how it feels and how the absence of my mother pumps through all the veins in my life. It’s an absence that makes me miss things about her that haven’t even happened without her yet. A call I’m not allowed to make anymore. A hug I’m forbidden to ask for. A Monday out at the mall that has been taken from me. It’s a loss that is so great it still is a thought in the forefront of my brain. It’s a hollowing feeling all the time, especially when I can slow down to remember I don’t have her anymore, and I cry on the front porch with a baby on my boob.

Maybe I’m a little more lenient now. Maybe I give a little more grace. Maybe I love a little harder and differently than the person next to me. Maybe I make decisions differently than you? It’s because I have this knowingness that anything could change in the next moment. And I’m ok with that, and who I seem to be to others. I’ve had a lot of shit and a lot of good come my way in the last 6 years and I’ve never felt more human, more alive, more aware and more certain of who I am presently at this very second in time.

Blessings come a dime a dozen if you’re not paying attention. So PAY THE F ATTENTION. You are blessed. And so. Am I. But, I still miss you mama ♥️ forever.