The Climb: An Adventure

When I was at Police Training, a few years ago, we used to do some intense physical training in the early mornings, before starting our daily class training. One of the training events we repeated over the course of the 3-month academy was stair climbing. Oh... My… Gosh!

We ran several blocks to this parking garage. It was 6 stories tall. That’s 12 flights of stairs! Everyone climbed the stairs, as fast and efficiently as they could, and ran down the parking ramps to the ground floor. At each level on the parking garage, we stopped and did some form of exercise. One level was sit-ups. One level was push-ups. One level was burpees. And so on, until we reached the ground floor to climb the stairs again… and repeat. 5 times. Before running back to the academy.

Never was a group so happy to simply, run! As we left the parking garage and made our way back to the academy, some were running far ahead of the group, and several were barely making a jogging pace, completely winded.

That thought crosses my mind, every now and then, when I think about the climb we make in life.

In my life as a parent of 3 boys, 2 of them with exceptional needs, the climb can sometimes be grueling. Those stairs look much taller when the teacher calls about a meltdown and a trip to the principal’s office. They look taller when another teacher calls about a medical issue and an unplanned trip to the ER. I look up at each flight and groan when my phone rings and the ID name is my kids’ school.

Between the flights of stairs is a small platform. I find myself pausing to take some running steps in-place before ascending the next flight. Sitting down after putting laundry in the washer and dryer, before folding the load just removed. Pausing for a sip of tea after all the dishes are done. Locking the door and taking a breath at the end of class time where I teach GED.

And the descent down the parking ramps begins when the day ends.

Going down… The kids are home from school. Smooth run down one level. Homework issues. Push-ups. Homework taken care of and continue down. Arguments. Sit-ups. Resolution to whatever mishap took place, and down. Nobody has socks without holes for the next day at school. Burpees. Almost there… Time for mismatching socks. Because who matches socks anymore?! Getting closer! Everyone is finally asleep. Crap! I forgot to submit my own school assignment due that night. Burpees. And finally, on the ground floor and the run back, only to rise the next day and climb those stairs again.

In the movie Forest Gump we hear that “life is like a box of chocolates.” In the business world, life is a race. In sports, life is a competition. To the whimsical, life is “a journey.” And for myself, life is an adventure. It’s a workout! But, it’s an adventurous workout.

Why did I use the stair-climb as an example for my life, when I refer to life as an adventure? Well… in addition to the 3 kids, I also live with anxiety. Pushing myself mentally to barely do the physical things is sometimes how it turns out. Sometimes the simple things are the stairs to me. Leaving the security of my house, to drop off and pick up my kids at their school, can be the whole 6 stories of stairs on some days. It’s life. Life just is. And life is what we make it. So, I choose to make it an adventure!

Adventure, to me, is the event of being in motion. Interaction with life. Maybe not people all the time (anxiety), but life. There is so much more to it than the average examples. The adventure is in the climb, the descent, and getting up to do it again. That parking garage will always be in my life. Some days it may wear me out. Ok, most days it does wear me out. But, I also love a challenge. Sometimes I make my own climb harder on myself and find myself looking back at the stairs I cleared. I wonder if I did the right thing. If I should go back (again, anxiety). But, I continue. And, at the end of each day, I think about ways to make the climb a little better the next round. That is why I take pictures of flowers, my kids, the puppies, nature, storms, and pretty much everything. I look for the adventure in life, and I do my best to share that part of life, and me, with my children. I am teaching them that the climb is work, but it doesn’t have to be limited to that alone. It’s not there to wear us out, but to build us up into something amazing, to do amazing things.

It’s an adventure.

Ink on Paper

          Writing has been a passion of mine for years. For as long as I can remember, back to when I first spelled my name! I got my first diary when I was 7 and haven’t stopped writing since. Lately, however, I have found myself in front of my computer, writing more with the tap-tap-tapping of my fingers on the keys. I’ve missed the feel of a book in my hands. A book that I am writing for myself. My journals.

I have a box FULL of diaries and journals, dating from 1990 until now, and even though some of the pages are filled with the most embarrassing moments of my life, they are also filled with the best of memories.

          As a 10-year-old, I wrote about the birth of my little sister, Leah. How she looked like a little, china doll with the pink bow in her black hair in the nursery at the hospital. How perfect she was, in every way.

          When I was 13, I wrote about the birth of my baby sister, Joanna. There’s a joke in those pages about her amazing lung capacity, and how she would be a phenomenal singer one day. She could be heard from the end of the hall, where our mom’s room was in the hospital, coming from the nursery.

          I wrote about growing up with my brother, Jacob. He’s the oldest, and only boy in the family. Growing up, before the sisters came into the family, I was just one of “the boys” along with him and his buddies. We wrestled, raced, played tag, cops and robbers, went on hikes for HOURS, and just lived in each moment, fully! And, I wrote about it all.

          There’s something about putting the pen to paper. It’s a form of therapy for me. The feel of the book in my hands, and the pen forming my own stories about adventures and fun. I wrote about the funny moments; the peaceful moments; the hectic moments; the breathtaking moments; and the moments of great pain and/or sorrow.

          Recently, the use of my computer has been convenient for speedy writing and accuracy. Blogging is a lot like journaling, and that is one reason I enjoy it so much. I seem to be on my computer more often lately, doing online college courses and whatnot. When I think of something to write, I just open a new Word document and start typing away. But, as a lover of writing, I believe nothing compares to the feeling of words flowing, raw and unedited, from the hand that holds a pen.

          I opened my favorite journal the other day, and saw the last page I had written on, the date I wrote there, and cringed. It had been a month! That’s a HUGE jump in time for me, and I felt the loss. I opened my fountain pen and began writing a new page. Gosh, it was wonderful!

         

         I wrote about my day, and a few days that stood out since the last page was written. I wrote about the flower garden I have been spending so much time in. I wrote about the latest funnies from my boys. I wrote freely until my wrist hurt! I closed the leather-bound journal and smiled. My stress from the day was forgotten while I expressed emotions on paper, and when I set the journal aside on my bed I was able to take a deep breath and continue my day effectively.

Sometimes it does a person’s mind good to step away from the fast-paced, daily functions in life. Read a book, not online, a hard copy book. Put together a jigsaw puzzle. Write an entry in a journal, or just jot down some notes on a sheet of paper. Take pictures, with an actual camera, of flowers, buildings, your children or pets. Put a CD in the radio and listen to it while re-arranging something in a room in the house. Throw darts. Make a piece of jewelry. Go outside and sweep the front or back porch/deck, and dance with the broom! The options are limitless for the simple things… the things that take just a little time away from “it all” and let your mind rest from all the cares of the adulting world. I do all these things at one point or another. But, for me, nothing compares to ink on paper.

Technology Time-Out!

Technology Burn Out!

It’s spring break. The kids have been out of school for the week and have been enjoying as much free time as they can. I planned to do the same (with the addition of housework, laundry, cooking, and so on of course). However, three boys, smartphones, smart TVs, laptops, and gaming consoles makes for a frustrating afternoon. Every. Day.

          After about an hour, and with multiples of each thing to take turns on or use solo, these three boys in my house still find something to fight over.

First child: “But it was MY turn on that one! You’ve been on it for more than 30 minutes!”

Second child: “Mom! He won’t let me play with him, and he says I can play later by myself. I don’t want to play by myself! Make him play with me! Or, can you play with me?”

“Honey, I can’t play that game to save my life.” Turns to first child. “Why don’t you want to play with your brother? Isn’t it a two-player game?”

Third child: “Hey, Mom. I got a great idea. Let’s turn it all off and play outside!”

Other two children combined groaning in protest.

“You know what Bubby? That’s a GREAT idea! Ok Technology time out! Turn it off and let’s do something else with our brains and bodies!”

*About 5 minutes into the playtime outside*

The boys are building tents, creating some type of battlefield for their Nerf wars, stacking piles of sticks in hopes of a bonfire, and running and screaming like warriors through the yard. They’re playing together, happy and free.

And me? Oh, I’m just sitting on the porch with a book in hand, sipping my coffee and enjoying the happy noises, however loud they may get, and smiling to myself thinking, “Ah. Success for the moment.”

Technology time-out is a very important thing in the lives of children in this generation. I didn’t grow up with a smartphone in my hands. I didn’t have internet access at my fingertips for games, socializing, or even basic searching. We waited for the dial-up, and when Mom needed to use the phone, we had to disconnect from the internet. Every time.

We’ve seen so many changes in the last 20 years alone. Don’t get me wrong. I have enjoyed the advancement in technology, personally. The minds behind current technology advancements have taken the world by storm, and while it has been the greatest blessing, it has also, recently become like a dark curse. The ease of access to all things in the world wide web has made it easy for our children to learn and be educated, and that’s great! But, it has also enabled them to be less productive and maintain a stationary lifestyle. Adults, too.

I’ll be the first to admit I was so happy to allow my kids to be distracted by the “Free babysitter” of technology. Tablets, phones, computers, TVs that connect to the internet. It was a relief to get a break! That break, however, became a pathway to habits that now must be broken. I don’t want my children to become dependent on the screen for entertainment, social connection, education, and life! We have a yard full of trees and flowers! Wildlife abounds all around our house. We live near creeks, fields, and rivers, in an area of the country that is less than 3 hours drive from several major cities, where both education and entertainment would be readily available, and at low to NO cost!

          So, during Technology Time-Out this week, my sons and I put together a plan. Of course, they were on board with it the whole time we discussed it, because it sounded exciting and adventurous. Most plans with kids get the enhancement of imagination, and that alone makes it more fun to talk about. The true test of their dedication will come this following week, once school starts back up and they want to play with their gaming devices all afternoon…

          If things work out according to our plans, we have a lot of fun adventures lined up for the remainder of the year! Everything from backyard adventures, campouts, bonfires, and hiking; to short trips to local parks, libraries, museums, and malls. On the larger scale, we might attempt some trips to nearby metropolitan areas like St Louis, Nashville, and Memphis. Provided we have the resources and ability.

          Am I taking the electronics away entirely? Heck, no! Being technologically adept is vital to this upcoming generation’s success in life. We will continue to enjoy the entertainment and education that our electronic devices give us, with some minor changes here and there. But it was so easy to forget what life is like away from the screen and keypads, and that’s one thing I don’t want to happen again. Technology time-out was a good thing for me and my boys. It brought me back out of my shell, and I truly needed that.

          Now, I am going to get back to my break from technology, and go play in the flowers…

          I will be posting about those next!! And I will have pictures from my darling gardens! I can’t wait!

Mom Life!

Oh, the joys of parenthood! Better yet, single parenting of three boys! Life is never dull, rarely quiet, and always interesting. In my home I am the only female. Even my dogs are boys. The amount of testosterone that runs within the four walls of my little, country house could give Conner McGregor a run for the money in the ring!

My oldest is going to be 13 this year. *groans* I will be experiencing “puberty parenting” for the first time and find myself looking for the manual that my children must have come with at birth. Surely, I misplaced it leaving the hospital!

I know I am not the only one living on the working side of the great American dream. Working, raising kids, being two parents in one body, as if being Mom alone wasn’t hard enough. But, I am here to say that it is one of the most rewarding things in this world! But it is definitely work, and sometimes the most testing on my patience. Let me share an example of a day in my world, and how much fun we have!

7-ish-am (after a long night of broken sleep): Stumbling blindly through the house, I find my way to the coffee. After first cup is made, and first sip is gratefully taken, I move on to the task of waking the little cavemen. Oh, the joy on the faces of my three musketeers every day, as I calmly barge into their bedrooms to yank off the covers and “lovingly encourage” their resisting bodies from their beds. Most mornings I turn up the radio, and sing along in the car, to drown out their cries for mercy as we get closer and closer to the school. There’s a daily, tired but cheerful “have a good day. I’ll see you at 3!” as they creep slowly toward the door of the school from the drop off line.

I teach GED classes in my community, part-time. So, there are a couple of school days where I go from my children’s school to my classroom, and a couple of days where I run errands and then do my own school work while they are at school for the day.

Being a student studying for a master’s degree program myself, I take every moment I can to do my own school work while the boys are in school. That is not the case every day, however, and some days I find myself falling behind. Housework, schoolwork, laundry, appointments for myself and the children… you name it, I’ve been early, on time, and late for all the above!

I pick up very happy and energetic children from school at 3pm, and we are off to the house. Homework, chores, and free time all kind of happen at once in my world. If there were three of me I could manage all their homework at the same time. And if there were three MORE of me, I could do housework, my school work, and fold all that blasted laundry, too!

Alas, there is only one me. Supper can be anything from a gourmet meal to ramen noodles any given day. Depending on Momma’s energy, attention span, emotional, and mental state by supper time. The kids know if Mom is making a salad, or chopping vegetables, to stay far from the kitchen! But those days are few and far between. Most of the time there is music played in the kitchen while I prepare food. The boys are old enough now that they enjoy helping… until it’s time to clean up, of course. But making supper is always an adventure, whether I’m doing it alone, or the with the help of the troops.

After supper is served, and eaten, we move on to evening free time! This is everyone’s favorite time of the school and work week. The musketeers play video games and watch movies, and I watch Netflix. I highly recommend Netflix to anyone and everyone who has free time on their hands! I could binge watch for years! But that’s another post for another day.

The final part of my day is what I affectionately refer to as “Bedtime Battle.” This is the grand finale to every day in my life, from Sunday night to Thursday night. We start showers and brushing teeth as close to 8:30pm as possible, and somewhere between 9:00 and 11:00 we are all finally sleeping. My youngest has ADHD, and my oldest is on the Autism spectrum. They both have issues falling asleep, and the youngest has gone through a few different attempts at sleep aids, with no success yet. My oldest just lays in bed and mentions that he is still awake every few minutes, until he is finally silent and sleeping. Every night with my youngest (my little monkey) is like a new experience. It ranges from an after-party type of event, with bouncing on beds and restlessly pacing the house, to a pre-zombie state where he just sits on his bed, staring at the wall, and/or gets up and comes to my room where he stands beside my bed and stares at my wall. I rub his curly hair and encourage him to rest, and eventually he sleeps.

I finally get to lay back, relax, and bask in the peace of the end of yet another day. It feels good. Eventually I slip into my usual, restless slumber, and start over again the next morning.

Now, this is just a sharing of a normal weekday. I will elaborate more on our exciting weekends another time. At the end of each day I reflect on the ups and downs of the day we just had. My boys are my life. They are my joy, and they are the testers of my patience. They have a sense of humor that leaves my sides sore from laughter multiple times a week! They are quirky, funny, active, VERY intelligent, and we learn from each other every day. I go to bed every night thinking of ways to make the next day even better for me and my little men. And every day we do the best we can in our family.

I am just one voice. One mother. I know that there are many single moms out there who live this life and count every day a struggle and a win. We are some of the strongest people out there. And there are days when we feel like we are alone. We aren’t. I salute all moms out there. Moms of babies. Moms of youngsters, and teenagers. Moms of other moms! When you fall into your beds at the end of your day, smile big. You made it.

Beautiful Soul

Little girl with the bruises on your arms and legs, from the beating you took the night before. You feel hopeless, unwanted by your own flesh and blood. Put off daily to fend for yourself, and your siblings. Looking for food, and knowing the only place you’ll get it is at school… if you make it there the next day. Your house has no heat in the winter, and no cool air in the summer. You barely fit in your clothes. They either swallow you up or are so small you cannot fasten or secure them. Where are your shoes? You gave them to your little sister, so she wouldn’t have to walk to school without any tomorrow.

You are a beautiful soul.

Little boy who battles with the voices in your head, telling you to do harm to yourself and others. Dealing with an internal struggle most adults cannot survive. Bullied, called names, often in trouble for fighting at school, and ignored by those who should care. On the outside you appear to have it all. The family looks happy. You have a nice house, with your own room. You have a dog, toys, games, and you want for nothing… except the love and attention you so badly crave from those around you. And yet, you sit alone, entertaining the voices you battle against, because while they are your enemy, they are also your only friend.

You are a beautiful soul.

Young lady with the beautiful eyes, and the smile that never, quite reaches them. Hidden from the world, in your dark corner. Depression and anxiety are the oppressions that burden you. You feel your friends have abandoned you, your family constantly fights with you, and you are so lonely. You have pulled away from everyone who has hurt you. Your pills have become the only link to sanity you believe you have left, and yet they are not enough when times get harder. And yet harder, they continue to become. You look in the mirror, and the ghost of your reflection gazes back at you, broken and empty, and all you          want is the pain to go away.

You are a beautiful soul.

Young man with the perfect job, your own house, starting a new family, and living the dream… yet tormented by your own nightmares every night. You struggle with the monsters and demons of your past. Things have happened in your life that were beyond your control, yet you blame yourself. Your wife supports you, and you have countless friends who would help you, if you could just let them in. But you feel like you cannot. You look at the face in the mirror, and hate the reflection you see. Your mind wants you to end it all, but your will is strong, and you carry on. You are determined to make it through, but struggling to figure out how, because you cannot on your own.

You are a beautiful soul.

Loving mother of 3 children; bouncing, hollering, energetic, bundles of joy. Every time you look at your little men you hope and pray that you are raising them right. But it is hard to be mom and dad to boys. There have been times you feel like a failure to your kids, many times, in fact. You go to bed tired, after working your full-time job. Were the bills paid on time? Was there enough to take care of their needs? Was anything missed today? Anything forgotten? You feel like the teachers and babysitters may know your babies better than you do. Split many ways, and barely able to take proper care of your own self, you are worn and frazzled, and yet you trudge on because those babies mean the world to you, despite what anyone else may say or do. Maybe one night you’ll sleep soundly, feeling secure for yourself and your kids. But until that day, you will fight your own inner battles, and any of the battles they face as well, because you are the strength and security in their lives, and they are your life.

You are a beautiful soul.

Gentleman with the silver highlighted hair, marking your wisdom and time on this earth, the kind face, and giving hands, you are a man sought after by many for your wisdom, but you are tired. Having lived life, and made your mistakes, you want nothing more than to spare future generations from doing the same. You have watched your children grow, and build their own families. Now, you have the privilege of watching your grandchildren grow as well. You love being the best example for all the little eyes watching you, but time has worn you down. Every day is more precious to you than the one before, and you fear you will leave this earth before you have shared all your wisdom to the younger generations, and so you write. You write your soul, your heart, and your wisdom in hopes that they will someday read, and take to their hearts the words you have shared. The writing on the pages is shaky from your aged hands, and splotchy from the tears that fell from your eyes onto the aged paper. And yet you continue, because you wish only the best for those who will follow you.

You are a beautiful soul.

To all the beautiful souls, remember who you are. Find yourself if you feel lost. Be happy, and be at peace. Stay strong, live free, and continue to grow more beautiful with every experience. Struggles in life will leave marks on your soul, until the end. Some call them scars, but I call them milestones. They are reminders of what you have survived, and how you have grown. You are born with a beautiful soul. And regardless of what life does to your mind, your body, and your heart, your soul remains…beautiful.

Rain

Rain is perceived in many ways. For some, the rain reflects the sadness they feel. For others, it is refreshing and invigorating. When the clouds roll in some say it’s gloomy, just how they feel at that moment. Others get excited, and sit outside in anticipation of the coming downpour. Some stand still, in the rain, so it hides their tears (I’ve done that). Some dance in it because it makes them feel good, free, and full of happiness (I’ve done that, too).

When we go too long without rain, we feel the heat from the sun all too strong. The ground dries up, and sometimes things die. When it rains too much, the ground floods, and again, sometimes things die. So, why is it that the thought of rain makes me smile?

Well…

Have you ever tasted the rain? Fresh, falling from the sky? Just stand under the countless, cascading drops, open your mouth, and laugh or squeal every time one hits your eye instead of your tongue?

Have you ever listened to the rain? When the rain starts to fall, do you sit outside, or open a window, and just listen? Do you hear the sound, the peaceful flow of water in the wind, and the rhythm of the drops as they land? It resembles a sigh; a long, exhale releasing tension in the air.

Have you ever danced in the rain? Have you thrown your shoes to the side, and ran carefree into the downpour of cool, cleansing, refreshing rinse from Mother Nature? It doesn’t have to be some happy dance. Just step out into the falling water, stepping to your own tune in your head, and feel it wash over you.

I remember being a child who enjoyed the rain. When the rain came, I was ready to play! My brother and I would go out into the yard and wait for the ditch to fill, and we would take toy cars, boats, and planes out there and create a world that was divided by a flowing river. My grandmother would set out pots and buckets to catch rainwater for her gardens. I used to sit in the opening of our garage, with my father, and watch the lightning during storms. He would tell me how lightning worked, and how it affected where it struck. We would count the seconds from the flash until the sound of thunder started.

The other day, My son enjoyed the rain we had. As I watched him run, play, laugh, and catch raindrops in his hands and on his tongue, I remembered the carefree days of childhood, doing the very same thing. It did my heart good, for many reasons.

If you are having a time in your life that is dry, look for your rain. When that rain comes, step out into the cleansing water. Reach for it, stand in it, dance in it. Cry in it, if you need to. Let it wash away the dirt and grime that has been covering you. Know that somewhere, when the rain falls, I will be doing the same.

Mother's Day and Me

“I don’t know how you do it!” Is often a phrase I hear from people, when asked how my life has been lately. Well, I’m not going to lie. I tell them how it is, what’s been going on, and give them MOST of the updates they are asking for. And if I were to guess, my response is probably not very different from most other moms out there in this generation, “Honestly, I don’t know how I do it either.”

And how do I do it? First, I wake up in the morning, groggy as all get out, because someone was up in the night sick, had nightmares, or just wanted that last chance at sneaking into the kitchen for a drink of water. Oh, and then there’s the kids’ issues too. Then, I round up the troops (or three musketeers) to get them out the door for school. Once they are safely deposited there, I return home to clean, take care of the four-legged kids, and catch up on other chores (bills, Dr. appts, other business phone calls, etc). At the end of the school day I fetch the minions from their place of education and either return home or go on to other destinations. Grocery shopping is often done while they are at school, because who wants to take three boys into the store?! “Mom! I want this! Can I have that? Mom, when can we leave? Oh! Look! A fidget spinner!” Yeah…no.

Don’t forget the seasonal sports! Practices, picture day, games, team events, etc. Thankfully, this year, I have only had one child engaged in a sport per season. Whew!

Video games and computers are often my live-in nanny for shower time, cooking dinner, folding laundry, cleaning out the car, or just hiding in the bathroom (don’t shake your head, you do it too Mom) just to BREATHE.

Then, there’s feeding an army of boys. Boy-moms…you know what I’m talking about! My oldest, Titus, is 11. He’s literally shot up at least 6 inches in the past 2 months, and will be taller than my 5ft7in self before his 12^th birthday! He is slightly selective in his eating, but neither of his younger brothers (Levi -9, Micah -6) have that problem. So, keeping food in my house is almost as strenuous as keeping it clean! I live in the dungeon of dirty socks, underwear, wet shoes, muddy, ripped jeans and shirts, and Nerf bullets everywhere! Half the time, when I walk into my house the lights are all out. When I open the front door, I might hear, “Mom! Close the door! Micah will see my location!” Then I might trip and stumble over blockades and boundary lines from my front door to my bedroom, where I escape from possible, friendly fire.

Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t strayed away from my “this is my day, every day” story. This is really it. Every day. So, let’s move on to supper.

My house is frequently filled with people who are not my biological children, but I claim them… sometimes. They aren’t even “children” per-say. But, they’re all my kids, so it seems. So, I literally do feed an army in my house quite often. I make sure food is done, and that my children (that I gave birth to) are fed first, then the rest come in and scavenge the remains of what has been cooked. Some nights we have a bonfire in the fire pit outside. Some nights we settle in front of a movie. There have also been nights when the Nerf Wars take over the house, and I hide in my bedroom to survive. Some nights the family doesn’t get to dinner until a tad later than planned, and everyone eats and goes to bed. *Sigh* There are times I reflect on my world and wonder if I’m a mom, or a zoo-keeper.

Bath time is often a battle between myself and my little men. Like many boys, they do not see the need for DAILY bathing, and try to get out of such a ghastly chore. From manipulation to downright begging, and finally to mommy giving in to let them play in the tub... Hey, as long as they clean it out, I win! Booyah! 

Once we have gone through our day, from waking groggy to collapsing into bed the same way, I do my best to fall asleep before I remember something I missed, and then wake to tackle the next day all over again.

Now, I haven’t even got to the fun part yet. In 95% of my parenting life, I have done this either working a full-time job, going to school full time, or BOTH. So, there’s a work schedule and school assignments to fit in there… Somewhere. I have also managed to maintain a chuck of this parenting life as a single mother as well.

In some ways, I am tooting my own horn, so to speak. And with good reason. There have been many days and nights I have sat in my bed, or on the bench on my porch, wondering if I’m really doing this right. Am I a good mother? Do I spend enough time with my kids? Am I raising children who will be successful in life? Have I made too many mistakes today? Did I handle this situation, or that, as I should have? I believe I stress myself out more than I should over my role as a mother. But, as a mother, I cannot help myself. I am not raising me, my mother did that QUITE WELL. I am raising three boys. I want them to be the best that they can be, and there are times I feel like I am failing them in that aspect. I know better, but deep inside, I will always want to make sure I am doing the best for them.

In doing what is best for my children, I often make decisions that don’t result in happy faces, but that’s okay. I put myself aside for them, and I do it willingly. But, I do it too much. Is that selfish of me to say? As I type this, I believe so, but I know in my heart that it isn’t. Why? Because if we, mothers, forget ourselves, we will lose our children. Remember that. Take care of you. Stay healthy; physically, mentally, emotionally, and your kids will be better for it. I don’t get “me time” enough, and most of the time I’m okay with that. I shouldn’t be. I need to take my own advice, and set aside some time for ME. Doing something that helps me relax and enjoy myself away from it all. Because I stay healthy that way, and I am at my best. And, when I am at my best, my children are better off.

Now, I’m off to do my daily thing!