When It Storms

There is something to be said about a good, strong thunderstorm. I love them! For me, the storm gives me peace. I feel comforted by Mother Nature when the wind picks up and the rain starts to make its way across the field to my yard. I love watching it, anticipating the first drops before they fall on my upturned face. The wind embraces me, sometimes gently and comforting, and sometimes with a strength I needed but couldn’t pick up on my own. The flash of the lightning sparks an energy in my soul. The thunder soothes my spirit when it rolls in the distance, and it excites my spirit when it cracks, loud and strong, just over head.

The storms in our lives do not bring peace. Our life storms sometimes come at us with a vengeance, raging in fast and suddenly, leaving us broken and desolate when they are finished. Sometimes they come in gradually, giving us fair warning before drowning us in the flood and leaving us heavy with the weight of the heavy rains.

This year, in the month of June, we had so many storms. Beautiful storms! High winds, some hail, thunder that shook the very soul, lightning that lit up the sky as far as the eye could see, and sheets of rain flowing like waves across the fields. They soothed my soul. The trees did a dance, taking on a life of their own under the music of the strong winds. The rain was like a song, comforting and calming. They were perfect storms. Little did I know they would have to hold me over for my own storms that would come the following month.

July was the month of my personal storms. It was also the month when very few natural storms came to comfort me. But, they did come at the right times, thankfully.

Some storms came in gradually, tormenting me with their approach. I felt helpless to get out of the way, and they poured on me sickness, sorrow, disappointment, pain, and rage. Others hit me suddenly and without warning, like a tornado dropping from a clear sky, rocking my world and leaving me completely destroyed inside.

Yes, storms are beautiful. They clear away things that are cluttering our lives, and they cleanse us with the floods, so we can emerge from them and rise as a new person. But, they are a beautiful disaster. They are not meant to be gentle. They hurt. They break away the things that we have carried for too long, and they blow us over, knocking us down to crack open the hard shell we didn’t even know was covering our soul gradually, over time. It hurts. It really hurts to be put through a storm. Sometimes storms blow away friends and people in our lives whom we believed were going to stand by us in even the strongest winds.

Storms don’t define us. They refine us. Storms are going to come. There is no way to stop them. It is what we do with ourselves when the storm comes, and when it passes, that defines us. Some storms will break us. I have often thought I would never repair myself from the damage of a life-storm. But the beauty in the disaster is when we allow the storm to blow away the rubble, wash away the dirt and grime, and stand firm, cleansed and free. Raise your hands and face to welcome the rain. Open your arms for the embrace of the wind. Let the thunder shake off the crud from your heart and soul. Bask in the energy of the lightning. And, when the storm is over, breathe in the fresh air. If you were knocked over, stand up. If you were still standing, take your first step. Be it good, or bad, there is just something about a storm.

Now, the next storm that Mother Nature brings your way, take some pictures, record some video, and feel the cleanse that the earth is receiving. And when you have a life-storm come, you can look at those memories of nature’s finest and hold on, because you will be as the earth when it passes. Cleansed, refreshed, and more beautiful than ever.

I Love My Children

I just want you all to know, I love my children. I do love them, so much…

One of my favorite things to hear out of the mouths of my children is, “Oh, Mom!” There is just something about their tone and half-smile, with the annoyed look in their eyes, that just gets me right in the heart, with joy! I beat them at their own game, usually a game of wits, and they can’t deal. But, they continue to try. Ha!

Now, this is a form of a “Mother’s Day” post, as I said I would provide, but I wanted it to be about the reason I celebrate this day.

I love my children…

Levi, my 10-year-old son, has some of the most hilarious one-liners I have ever heard! We recently changed primary care physicians, and our new doctor loves to tell jokes as well. In the 2 months that we have seen him, Levi has sprained his finger, had an allergy attack, and tried to go a third time for another reason, and was sad to learn it wasn’t bad enough to see the doctor. I told him it would be a bad idea to break a bone, because that would land him in the ER where he wouldn’t see HIS doctor, but an ER doctor instead. So, he looks at me, without missing a beat and says, “I don’t feel so good. I think I have a fever *cough, cough*.” Really, son? Really?! (sigh) I don’t call him my “carbon copy” for nothing.

I do love my children…

My 12-year-old, Titus, is 5ft6.5in. He has RED hair, and delightful freckles all over his face. His smile is so sweet. Do not be fooled by this (not so) little sweetheart, though, because he has a trickster side that will come out of nowhere and catch you off guard. His usual victims are his brothers, after which they will come running to me playing the unfortunate victim. Then, when I go see what was up, Titus will look at me and say, “Oh, I just did that, so you would come outside to see what I made.” And proceed to show me some creation of his, made from scraps of something else he tore apart. I’m just thankful he hasn’t tried breaking down my walls when I’m not looking, to create a droid or some other robotic thing he enjoys.

Again, I love my children…

Micah, my youngest, is 7 years old. I call him my animal. He can climb anything! He does this thing, he calls a swan dive… and yes, he does it well! He gets a running start, jumps up, and soars forward until he face-plants into the dirt below. Arms stretched out, over his head, he looks like a curly-headed Superman flying 2ft off the ground until he lands with a thud, rolls over, and runs back the other direction to do it again. This is a daily event. What shocks me the most is, of my three sons, he is the only one I have not gone to the ER with for an INJURY yet! Oh, I know the day is coming, though. I have prepared myself emotionally, and mentally, for the day to arrive.

Oh, how I love my children…

Every day is such a joy, and a functional disaster, in my house. Between the break-dancing (Levi) Human Crash Dummy (Micah) and the genius of all things electronic and construction (Titus), we have unending adventures. No, really… like we can’t even move on to the next chapter of an adventure. It MUST stay on this on! Ha, ha!

From the “Bad Dad” jokes, to the pranks, the knock-knock jokes that make NO sense, my three musketeers keep my brain in constant working order. Speaking of the knock-knock jokes, Micah told one the other day that I couldn’t help but laugh at. Let’s see if I can get it like he did…

Micah: Hey mom. Knock, knock.

Me: (kind of distracted) Uhm, who’s there?

Micah: SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS!

And… that was it. Now, if anyone knows my child, they can read this in his dramatic tone of voice. He kind of sounds like the dude announcing the fighters in the ring on a fight night. When he finished on that note, I sat there for a second, silently, and I could feel the physical signs of uncontrollable laughter starting to work its way from my feet to my mouth. He just KNEW he told a good one, and the look on his face, through is little coke-bottle glasses, the pure joy and humor in his eyes, matching the cheeky grin on his face as he looked at me expectantly, I couldn’t stand it. I laughed until it hurt. Not to make him feel better about a half-done joke, but because the whole thing was PRICELESS! It couldn’t have been a better told joke by either of his brothers.

These three are the reasons I celebrate as a mother on Mother’s Day. They have made me what I am, in so many ways. I look at them and see a little of me in each of them every day. I see the softer, sensitive side of myself in Titus. His genuine concern for others touches my heart. I see the quirky, humorous side of me in Levi, with the jokes, silly humor, and witty come-backs. I see my wild side in Micah; the pure enjoyment of life, and the fun that can be found around every corner. I just wish he had a little more caution than he does. I fear for my health with that one…

These three are as different as night, day, and some other universe as well! It’s just me and them. They do not have a male influence in their lives, only me. We battle the day, and enjoy the world, together. And without them, I would be… lost.

I do… love my children. <3                            

Just Another ADHD Day

This week, in the lives of myself and my exceptional children, we didn’t do much until near the weekend.

Monday was torturous, as usual, and as the week went on everyone settled into their routine with ease (as easy as we do anyway). But it is Friday that I want to share about today.

Friday: I had to take my youngest, who is 7 and has ADHD, to the orthodontist to have a couple of teeth worked on. This would be his first time having the Nitrous gas used on him for any dental work. Before we found this group, he was TERRIFIED of the dentist, because of an issue he had with a previous orthodontist who traumatized him with a tooth extraction situation. I was nervous. He was hyper. My mother went with us for “momma support” and I was so grateful!

We waited for over 30 minutes for them to begin the procedure, and he was getting restless. My anxiety was climbing. Finally, the Dr. came in and they began. He did AMAZING! Tried to move his hands and feet a couple of times, but he never cried, squirmed, or did anything to disrupt their actual progress. They praised him for his awesome handling of the event, and we were finally free!

We went to Steak ‘N’ Shake for lunch, because the poor, little guy wanted a milkshake after the event, and we thought we would give it a try. Now, his smile was slightly loose on the right, and his words had a slight slur to them. Mom and I wondered if he would be able to actually succeed consuming his milkshake. So, I suggested we eat inside, and let his mouth come back to life a bit before ordering the delectable delight for the munchkin.

Success! Well, sort of. He had a couple of spills but having requested the M&M milkshake he was bound to have some clogs in the straw.

Now, all this being said… my son has ADHD. He is hyper. He is impulsive. I have had to learn to deal with sudden outbursts of noise, wiggly arms and legs, climbing, rolling, fidgeting, and muttering from his little self his entire life. Only recently have we been able to get a solid diagnosis for him, and medication when necessary (i.e. school). For this day he did not have the medication, and it was showing. He wasn’t rude. He wasn’t obnoxious. He was Micah. And, he was getting looks. We all three were.

Did it bother me? Yes.

I understand that my child is not going to sit still for 45 minutes in a single place. I understand that my child has a volume control issue now and then, that even he can’t explain just yet. I understand that other people aren’t going to get it, with their quiet, well behaved, smiling children sitting next to them, joining in the observation of my wiggly, restless, but cheerfully hyper son. But it doesn’t take away the struggle that I, as a mother, deal with internally when it does happen.

Mothers of ADHD children are exceptional! We are blessed, and we are strong women! For us to be the mothers of such amazing children is a privilege. We have been given a gift. A strong child, and a strength in ourselves that, at many times, even we do not comprehend! I say “mothers” because, as women, we are emotional creatures by nature. The struggle to suppress emotions is real!

I find myself fighting the urge to be rude to the people who are making faces in my direction when I am in public with my kids. I fight the urge to walk up to them and give them a lecture on exceptional children and their struggles. But, as a mom of exceptional children, I also understand that people aren’t going to “get it” by mere words and defense of our children. Emotions are already high, on both ends, when it comes to ADHD and Autistic children in public places. I wouldn’t make it any better, or educate anyone, by stepping up with my emotions high and confronting someone.

I tip my hat to any parent of exceptional children, single or married, who fights the public battles daily. I am doing the best that I can. My boys are healthy, happy, and loved. They are amazing, and my little heroes. I couldn’t ask for a better blessing from above any day, than the three musketeers who call me “Mom.” And, I will always support them, encourage them, and teach them that honesty, integrity, and love will take them farther than anything in life. Regardless of what anyone else thinks, says, or does, if they remain true to themselves first, and others, they will do things in life that we never imagined in their youth.

We will all get looks and words charged in our direction, all our lives. Both encouraging and discouraging. It affects us, yes. But, what matters most is what we see in, and say to, ourselves. My son is ADHD. I am his mother. We both have a lot of heart, and a lot of strength. All three of my sons are strong. My hope for my sons is that their strength will be used for good, always.

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.