The Best Version.

"Most writers write to say something about other people...and it doesn't last.

Good writers write to find our about themselves...and it lasts forever."

-Gloria Steinem

   Quite recently, I was at a gathering where someone had asked me, "Well, what are you?" The question itself was posed in a very specific conversation, but it isn't the first time that I have been left with the thought that things, for many people, need to be put in a box. It needs to be placed neatly in that box, labeled, and then stored properly, for all to see. I have just never been that way. Who I am, who I feel I am at least, changes on what seems to be a constant basis. My box has never been neatly labeled, rather crumpled from over use, switching it's shelves on the regular.

    This little personal tidbit, is something that has been very difficult for me to manage as a mother. The journey to discovering yourself, your true self, is a difficult one when you are constantly immersed in three other tiny little beings. How long though, can we as parents convince ourselves that we don't have the time for something so important? If we can more clearly recognize and convey who we are as people, what better way to inspire our children to do the same for themselves? I know that I myself, have pushed it to the wayside for far too long.

    Over the past three months, I have slowly felt this wave of change washing over me. I think a lot of it has to do with being back in this place. Sometimes the best way to realize where you want to go, is to take a look back at where you've been. It gave me a drastic comparison to the life I could have, to the life the I really want. 

What I want.

   Three words. Such a simple statement or question to pose, but have you tried answering it lately? It comes with an onslaught of emotions. Frustration, disappointment, sadness... Each and every one all pointed directly back at yourself. Why? Because despite all that you may have accomplished in life, how many things have you really done for yourself? And I mean really for you. Then you answer that question and realize that there are so many things you want to do, so many ways you long to express yourself, so many ways you want to push yourself forward. And then you wonder why you haven't done a single one of them.

At least that's how it has felt for me. 

   So I finally decided that instead of constantly being disappointed that I didn't make more genuine choices for myself or my life, that I would change things. It started out with things as simple as looking in my closet. Why was a woman with such a distinct style living with a closet full of the same t-shirt in 6 different colors? Why couldn't she go and find herself some clothes that truly spoke to her personality? That then progressed... Why was that same woman standing in front of the make-up and skin care at Sephora like it was an unattainable genie in the lamp? Why was she still squeezing out every last drop of that sample foundation? And why was she browsing the internet looking longingly at all of the women covered in beautiful, fierce, tattoos? How long had she put off that large tattoo she had always dreamed of? Instead of wondering, shouldn't she bring her dreams to reality?

   Those little changes in my decision making made me feel more empowered. Instead of constantly telling myself I couldn't buy or do things, I would instead ask myself, "Why not?" And these small things eventually led to bigger realizations. If I was hiding my spirit behind solid colored tees and old make-up, what bigger parts of myself was I subduing? 

   After many long talks with my husband, we both started to realize that so many of our decisions had been based off of every reason other than what we truly wanted for ourselves. Why have we never settled down in one place? Maybe because we have moved everywhere other than the one place we've talked about living for the past 8 years. Why had neither one of us ever committed ourselves to school the way we had dreamed? Maybe because we prioritized our personal growth beneath other things that just were not that important. Why? Why? Why? Every question would be answered with an excuse that just didn't seem to be good enough for not fulfilling dreams that would bring you that much closer to the best version of yourself.

   So from this day forward I am done with my own excuses. I will make the appointment for that tattoo, I will be that girl who you know exactly what she's about when you see her on the street, I will be that woman who lives her dream every day, and I will live those days in the place that I see every night when I close my eyes to dream. Because who I am matters, who I am is always changing, and I look forward to constantly meeting new versions of that woman. 

    

The Toddler Life.

   On February 6th, 2007,  I was skiing and wandering a small little slope town, while on a ridiculously romantic trip planned by my lovely boyfriend. I had no idea that at the end of that wonderful afternoon, he would have asked me to be his wife, and I would have been given the biggest (and most special) surprise of my life. It was the beginning of so many things for us. Even all of those years ago on the edge of breathtaking Lake Tahoe, I knew that this man and I were going to create some wonderful experiences together.

   On February 6th, 2012, that lovely husband of mine and I, celebrated the birth of our third son. It was a miraculous day for so many reasons, only one of which being that our little boy would share his birthday with a day that had always been so special to us in our marriage. It was a real and meaningful thing for us, to see how we had come completely full circle from those two young fools who had so many ideas for what their future would hold. After all of these years, all of these moments, the simple joy of just knowing I have them with me, is more than I could have ever imagined back then.

   After our engagement, our wedding, our first son(then our second son), the trend had been set that people thought we were pretty much cray cray. We were young, with a penchant for wanderlust, and would sometimes leap with confidence into the unknown. The pregnancy with my third son was no different.

"It's too soon since his brother."
"3 under 4 is too close."
"You have no help, you won't be able to do it on your own"

It seemed that every one had an opinion, a reason for why we were wrong, that we just couldn't possibly know what we were doing. But on that day two years ago, I knew that they could say what they wanted. Because I knew the truth. This little boy was something so very special, and he was meant to be a part of our family.
 
So tomorrow my little baby will turn two. He will join his brothers in all of their big-boyness and I will be left, once again, wondering how I process the closing of one chapter, whilst preparing for the next. Even though he is my third child, I am still never really prepared for anything. And if I've learned anything in my journey of motherhood, it's best not to try. So as I enter into this new Toddler Life, I am left standing confidently with the lessons I have held onto dearly...

Comparison is the killer of joy. 

This is a simple quote, but it sends such a powerful message as a parent. It's so easy to get caught up in Mommy Wars, with who is or isn't doing what, with what you are doing wrong. You can't compare yourself as a parent to any other parent, because there is only one you. Just like each of your children are individuals and should never be held to any one else's standards, neither should you. The only person who you can compare yourself to, is who you were yesterday, and who you will hope to be tomorrow.

Guilt is a mis-guided and unfair form of punishment.

As a parent, guilt is unavoidable. As someone who grew up with a real problem dealing with guilt, my children have taught me the invaluable lesson of self-indulgence. How narcissistic are we, that we feel the need to emotionally punish ourselves for not being there for someone in every way? As though that person couldn't possibly survive if they didn't have us to help them? If we walk away from the laundry, from our children, our spouses, for a few hours, there's a solid chance that everything will still be running smoothly by the time you return. And if you surround yourself with people who love, understand, and support you in your life, I promise you that your guilt will be mis-guided. You're not a superhuman and it's unfair to punish yourself for falling short of superhuman standards.

Sometimes, there just isn't an answer.

Exactly as it says. Sometimes, your children don't need you to make it better. Sometimes they just want to be sad, sometimes they just want to be alone, sometimes they just want to be pissed off at their brother. Not everything needs a Band-Aid. And sometimes there will be things that need fixing that you can't fix. Just like sometimes you aren't going to be the one required to find the answers. It will be in that moment, that your children will have to use the tools that their wonderful mother taught them, to find the answers for themselves. And then there are times where the answers will find their own way. We just need to let it happen.

In all you do, trust yourself. 

This is the most important, as well as the most difficult. Doubt can be poisonous when you're a parent. And this is not to say that you should trust that you will always figure it out, because you won't. This is saying that you need to accept and trust all of the emotions and thoughts that accompany you. Trust the frustration you feel when your children won't stop fighting. Trust the overwhelming fatigue you have with a child who refuses to sleep. Trust that all you are feeling is a genuine emotion. It's natural. It's normal. Let those feelings, those moments, wash over you. Process them, accept them, and allow them to steer us to a better place.

Parenthood for me, has been a schizophrenic hodgepodge of brilliant and maddening moments. And as I officially leave my Baby Years and enter into Toddler Life, I know that my journey has only just begun. Just like when I felt a circle completing on that day two years ago, I will have similar moments in the future. Where something will click and I will be reminded that things come together, even when no one else can see it.

One Little Word.

Sentiment.

In many ways, this is a word that is very foreign to me. I've spent the majority of my life protecting myself, hiding behind walls and experiences many could never relate to. Most of who I have become today, I could thank in large part to my husband and children. They are not, however, my whole story. There are many experiences, people, who have molded the person who writes the words before you. I think by habit, I shut myself off from those people and moments. Maybe out of habit, or maybe out of fear that I may trigger a more painful memory. At the end of the day though, I am who I am, all thanks to the whole of my life.

When I was in my junior year of high school,  my parents moved us from NY to FL. I left my friends, my school, my center; all on the heels of the single most devastating loss of my life. I was lost, depressed, and without purpose. I would eventually create for myself a semblance of a normal life, but none of it felt like it was a course for proper self-discovery.

Quite recently I found myself at ground zero for that point in my life. After many years, and many more experiences, I returned to the small Florida town I lost myself in all of those years ago. Quite ironically, right on the heels of my 10 year high school reunion.

Having switched schools, half way across the country, so far into my high school experience, I've never truly felt like I belonged anywhere. I left lifelong friends, right before we started making lifetime memories and bonds, yet arrived way too late to recreate those moments in my new school. I did the best I could, but amidst death, divorce, and dysfunction, the cards were stacked against me.

Most of my adult life thus far, has been a lesson in finding a proper balance. Balance between who I was as a teen all those years ago in Buffalo, to the lost young woman in Florida, back to the maturing mother wandering around the country. Which parts of me were worth holding onto? And which parts had I yet to find? It became this truly complex life lesson that I wasn't sure I would be able to teach myself.

All of this brings me to today. 12 years since a part of me died, since I began anew, since I started to rebuild the person who writes the words you read today. Last year, I first heard of the idea of assigning a word for the beginning of the New Year. The idea immediately struck a chord with me and I promised myself then that I would commit myself to the idea when the next New Year came around.

And so it has.

It took me a lot of time to choose my One Little Word. Ultimately, it came to me quite organically, as it has been the one thing that I have been searching for for so many years; balance.

I am someone who has struggled with balance for a very long time. Not only because I wear so many hats, but because I am someone who struggles with details. I am the type of person who likes to do everything I do to the best of my ability. And in the moments where I do less than that, I feel as though I'm letting a part of me down. At some point though, you realize that you just can't do everything, in all ways, to the extent that you want to. At some point, something has got to give. And that doesn't equate to failure.

There will be times that I have to remember that I deserve to treat myself as who I am; a woman. A strong, independent, often times overwhelmed, but nonetheless deserving, woman. A woman who deserves an hour at the gym, who needs a quiet story time with her son, who looks forward to cooking dinner with her husband, who should not feel guilty about getting her hair done.

So this year, in all that I say and do, I will remind myself of the balance that I am searching for. To even out every bad day with a good one, every impatient word, with a compassionate one, and every struggle with a success. Because it is not always about what you cannot or did not do, but more so what you can and will do the next time.

Thanks Be to Love.

You looked right through me 
When there was no one else 
I sat beside beside you and became myself...

Over the past few weeks, my social media has been filled with people each day, devoting a moment to say all that they are thankful for. It's a nice sentiment for this time of year, a time where we all reflect on the many blessings each of us have in our lives. That is what makes Thanksgiving so very special. For those who celebrate this Holiday for its true meaning, it is a time that is wholly unselfish. Something very rare nowadays. 

I myself, could give you a laundry list of things that I have in my life to be thankful for. I am a truly blessed woman, who is surrounded by warmth, comfort, and love on a daily basis. What I have is more than I could have ever hoped for in life. If I were to sit down though, and really tell you the one thing that I am eternally thankful for, the answer would be a simple one; 

My husband.

My husband is the reason why I am surrounded by each and every blessing I have in my life. If I were to list all of the things I am thankful for, each of them would be attributed in some way to this very wonderful and amazing man. He is everything in my life.

He is the reason I am a mother to my sons.

He is the reason I am a confident and independent woman.

He is the reason I am nourished and healthy.

He is the reason I have warmth and shelter.

He is the reason I have laughter and joy.

He is the reason I know what true love means.

He is the reason that I believe hope rings eternal.

He is the reason I know the true meaning of humility.

My husband is a man of little needs. He expects nothing from any one, but gives everything to others. His complete devotion to his place in mine and my children's life, is truly awe-inspiring. He has given me the gift of friendship, understanding, and complete peace. If not for him, I would never have been able to grow into the person I am today. A gift so invaluable, that I could never even begin to explain the magnitude of my thanks for it to him, or to others. 

So when you ask me what I am thankful for, it is, and always will be, the man who holds my heart eternal;

My husband. My soul. My best friend. 

A Forever Home.

I've been gone for so long
But my heart it carries on
As it pounds like a drum
On my journey back home 

Home.

One simple word can evoke a multitude of images and feelings. For each of us, home represents something, or maybe someone, different. It's a place, a feeling, a memory. It's an ever-changing, but always comforting place to return to.

Since the time that I was 15 years old, I have lived in 11 different "homes". Over the past 12 years, I have never lived in a single one of those places longer than 18 months. My friends and family joke that I am a gypsy of sorts, a nomadic person who can never just settle down in one place. Parts of that are true. I do like to fancy myself a free-spirit of sorts. I like to feel as though I will be able to see and experience many places before I find the one that speaks to my soul. My forever home. 

The life I've led thus far has been a wonderful one. I've shared with life many difficulties, sure, but I've gotten to see and do so much more than most people I know. The places I've lived, the things I've done, they are all a part of me now. They are all intertwined with what I describe as my home. You see, I can't pinpoint my "home" to any one place any more. I can't tell you where I would be happiest or most fulfilled, because no matter where I land, there will always be a part of my heart, my home, in another place. 

My heart will always find home in the childhood I spent in a big blue house, listening to the train whistle while I fell asleep.

My heart will always find home in the kindred souls who would help heal me underneath a Florida sky. 

My heart will always find home in the peace I made with a snowy lake and a one stop light town. 

My heart will always find home in the land of blue skies and beautiful, green pastures.

Even as I reminisce about the time spent in each of these places, I feel emotional. It tugs at my heart to know that I can only ever just have one of them. It feels like the ultimate cosmic punishment, to have so many places welcome you with open arms, only to have to say good-bye. 

After so many years of moving trucks, boxes and farewells, my soul is finally starting to come to peace with the fact that it may be time to choose a real home. A place that will give my children the kinds of memories that I was given in that big blue house near the train tracks. A place that can be their center. A place that I can promise them, will not ever be taken from them. And as much as it terrifies my entire spirit to make such a commitment to one single place, I know that it will all be worth it. The time has come to make sacrifices for a true home. A forever home. 

So with that, I send myself on a mission. A mission that will change my life completely for a time, but one that will result in a dream I never thought would come to fruition; A big warm house with a garden in the yard, rooms built around memories made, and my children's squeals of delight running through it all.

Here's to forever. 

The Curse of the Rut Month.

I am a firm believer in the importance of personal growth. I have always thought that the further you push yourself; mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, the stronger of a person you are able to become. The most important times, for me, to focus on my own personal growth, is on the back end of what I like to call my "rut month". Every few months I tend to allow all of my personal obligations to get the better of me. Where I do recognize that these times in life are completely normal (I am a very busy SAHM, with a lot of responsibilities, who simply just cannot do it all), I also recognize that it is vital for me to remember that taking the time to really focus on myself and what I need to do to overcome my rut, is what's best for everybody. As someone who has a bit of a Type A personality, this often times poses somewhat of a challenge. Sneaky things such as impatience, grouchiness, depression; they all feed off of that negative energy. If you allow it to creep in unchecked, it will eat you alive. If you neglect your personal growth long enough, you will eventually be staring at yourself in the mirror, wondering who in the world that person is staring back at you.

This isn't to say that we shouldn't be allowed to wallow a bit every now and then. It's more about keeping perspective. Would I love to be a personal trainer/holistic nutritionist, with an independent life outside of my family? Absolutely. Is that a possibility in the foreseeable future? No. And where I recognize and acknowledge my disappointment in that, I also don't dwell in it. I can only focus on the things that I am able to control. I may not be out there in a gym getting to impart my passion and knowledge, but I am most certainly able to impart more knowledge unto myself. No one is stopping me from gaining further knowledge of my passion, just because I'm not doing it as a profession. It's a compromise. And compromising based on your situation is okay, so long as you aren't compromising who you are as a person.

As a busy mother, it's easy to not recognize when you start compromising yourself for your family. Whether you are a SAHM, a WAHM, or a mother who works out in the field, we all tend to put ourselves behind everyone and everything else. I know for me, my husband works very hard at trying to push me out of the house. He encourages me to go to the gym, go get a pedicure, go to a movie. He understands that I need time for myself so that I can re-charge. There are times though, where I refuse to acknowledge the importance of this time. For example, my husband works 9:30 AM-9:30/10:00 PM, 5 days a week. So on grocery shopping day, I usually have to wake up very early so that I can go shopping and be back before he has to leave for work. I rush to make sure I get everything I need; breakfast food for the boys, lunch food for the boys, snacks for the boys, etc... Ultimately, what happens every.single.time. is that I don't spend the extra 10 minutes shopping to get healthy food choices for the week for myself. I am then left eating grilled cheese or oatmeal (for days on end) and justifying it, because I just "didn't have enough time". Did I really not have an extra 10 minutes to shop for myself? Of course I did. And how about all of the nights where I was so burnt out and frustrated that instead of getting an exercise in, I sat and stared at the TV screen like a zombie for an hour until my husband came home. Am I not worth the extra effort 30 minutes of exercise would take? Of course I am. Eventually it becomes a slippery slope where I haven't exercised in a month, haven't cared about what I'm fueling my body with, haven't given a second thought to the amount of sleep I'm running on. Then comes the crash. Where I'm tired, burnt out, irritable, and I try to attribute it to everything other than the fact that I've neglected myself.

I usually walk away from my "rut month" feeling disappointed in myself. I work very hard to maintain a healthy, active, productive lifestyle. So when I realize that I'm not doing that, it's easy to beat myself up about it. As I get older though, I am starting to learn that it's okay to have these seasons in your life, so long as they are just that; seasons. It's important to take the steps to make sure that your valleys in your road to personal growth, don't become your plateaus. It's all too easy to let the negativity and excuses become your new normal. As a woman and mother, it is ingrained in me to nurture. I nurture my husband and our marriage, I nurture my children, I nurture our homeschool. We all give so much of ourselves to so many other things, that nurturing ourselves begins to feel like a selfish venture. To nurture ourselves on a personal level is not only important, it is vital. Rather than getting swept away in all we aren't accomplishing at this very moment, or all that we may not accomplish in the future, let us all take a lesson in acknowledging and accomplishing the things that we have right in front of us. Most importantly, the woman who greets you every morning in the mirror:

Acknowledge she is there.
Acknowledge how she is that day
Ask her what it is she may need from you.
And then do that for her.
Do that for yourself.

Generation Incommunicado.

Sometimes I find it hard not to rant. Sometimes I find it even harder to remember that, more often than not, people could give two flying figs about what it is I feel like ranting about. Which is mostly why I leave it all right here on a blog, allowing my rant to fizzle away into the ether. I get it off my chest, you read it if you choose to, and we all walk away unharmed (usually). I've found though, that most people don't have the same restraint when it comes to their ranting. Most times, the ranting or complaining turns into something ugly. This is usually due to the fact that people nowadays seem to think that having an opinion or a point of view is some sort of contest. That it is somehow their sole mission in life to make every single person have the same opinions that they do. When did we start de-valuing unique thought? The true spirit of communication seems to have become lost in a generation of screens and clicks on a keyboard.

Honestly. It's exhausting.

Over the years, I've adopted a very specific approach toward what I choose to discuss with people; "Is it kind? Is it necessary? Is it true?" It's under this mantra that I've tried to navigate myself through relationships, friendships, even parenthood. And it's a delicate balance, because sometimes even though something may be true, it may not be necessary. And other times it may be necessary, but it isn't going to come from a kind place. This has caused some people to take away from knowing me, the idea that I hold grudges. Which isn't exactly true. I acknowledge the whole of every situation I am in. I can see where I've faulted, where voices maybe should have been louder, where I need to acknowledge a larger hurt I've been inflicted with. And sometimes, as cowardly as it sounds, it's easier to just walk away. Which I think is different then a grudge. Because I walk away without prejudice, without resentments. I walk away with the knowledge that I was less than perfect on probably more than one occasion. That it always takes two parties to stumble and fall, that I should see where I did so, and grow from it. Sometimes it's because I am overcome with what I feel is true and necessary, but still love that person enough to know it's not worth the pain my words would cause them. Sometimes there are hurts that words just can't fix. Sometimes it's up to the person carrying that hurt to find a better, more cathartic, way of dealing with things. I find that there are situations where there are some things just better left unsaid.

As a parent, the deep level of understanding this type of communication requires, starts small. It is vital for me as a mother, that I teach my sons that their words deserve respect. That their thoughts and their voices are of the utmost importance, but not at the sacrifice of someone else's feelings. You can't speak or listen without understanding that each and every person requires a different focus. There will be people who will accept your harsh honesty and they will grow from it, but there are others who would break under it. Who would need more of the kind, and less of the necessary. They will know that the truth is paramount. The truth is also not always kind, which is where restraint should introduce itself. They will know why we cannot cultivate gossip, because your truth isn't always the absolute truth. Others have theirs as well and their truth is just as important as our own. They will know that disrespect is never tolerated. You can never truly know what someone could be going through, what their perspective of something may be. My children will know that if it isn't something you can keep to yourself, it is something that should be taken directly to the other person involved. Every one deserves that chance to explain themselves. It does not require a third party, it does not require presumptuousness or slander. It requires honesty, compassion, and the ability to understand all sides of a situation, not just your own. Regardless of the emotion, all communication deserves respect. If that cannot be given, then it is something better left kept to yourself.

I suppose my ranting for today is mostly because I am disheartened at the things I see around me today. The mudslinging on message boards and social media. The total disregard that the person on the other end of words typed so easily on a keyboard, is a real, feeling, breathing human being. How I see families on television airing their dirty laundry for a paycheck, while the rest of America sits and eats it up with a spoon. As if having zero respect for the people whom you claim to love and care for, is something that should be championed. It hurts my heart a little. And while I don't claim to always say the right thing, or that I always communicate things the way I should, I do see the need for something to change. And I hope by guiding my sons through this dangerous mine field that is "The Communication Era" (oh, the irony) that I can leave something better behind than what we have now. That they can learn a lot sooner in life than I did, how compassion and communication are the tools needed to fix the hurt in this world.