See You Again

The sigh of relief and satisfaction I get when I sit down to craft a blog, is undeniable. The blog has always been a sacred place where I can retreat too, neat rows of words that speak my truths in a way that just make sense to me. Opportunities to write quietly are getting far and few between in this chaotic season of life, but nevertheless, they still happen and when they do, it’s so healing. It brings me back and grounds me.

Tonight is a night like many others, the kids have eaten and been soaked in the tub. The days’ sticky fingers, marker stains & dirt have been scrubbed off and they are clean and in their soft pajamas, ready for bed. Our Coley goes to bed right around 7; he gets his blanket and rubs his eyes almost like clock-work. Hallie will sit on the couch, gazing up at the TV until her eyes flutter shut and she lands on the couch seat next to her. I leave her there most times and watch her sleep, until eventually; I’ll carry her to bed. Our lives, as chaotic as it can get, I work hard at making these last few hours of our day routine and steady.

I strive in an environment where I can predict, so I can prepare. But how do I react when things happen, that I can’t prepare for? I have to look at it straight in the eye and decide; how am I going to handle this? How am I going to manage to feel okay in this, if I’m not ready for it?

A couple weeks ago, I excitedly stood above my bathroom vanity, overlooking a little stick, waiting to see the results; a giant, bright blue, plus sign.

Pregnant!

Days of mental preparation, lists and quiet whispers to my close friends and family. Days of talking, planning and dreaming with my husband, talking about names and bedrooms.

I start praying for protection for this little baby. I buy prenatals and start drinking more water and going to bed earlier. I dream and hope.

I continue my workout regime, dreaming of sharing my journey. What will my belly look like this time around? Can I be a fit pregnant mom, heck yes I can!

I wake up one morning, slowly walk to my bathroom and the first thing that hits my mind is the baby. I wonder how they’re doing in there. I place my hand on my waist.

The next turn of events don’t end in an ultrasound with a happy mother and a peppy Instagram post announcement.

As much as I wish I was posting one of those, instead I sit here crafting this blog; the one where I tell you all, that it happened again.

The fourth pregnancy, but a woman with only two children.

My heart aches, my soul feels bruised. The doctor tried to tell me it was just a pregnancy that “didn’t take.” But it felt a lot like a baby I could have raised, a life that could have brought so much joy to our lives. As I sit in the midst of this miscarriage, I felt such an urge to share with you that this life, though so little, was so loved. I wanted to shout on the top of my lungs that I was pregnant and it mattered. That I didn’t want to just try again, I wanted to continue THIS one.

As I maneuver my way through these emotions, I have such an unwavering peace flowing in. That this baby is a part of my story and they are going to teach me more about myself and the kind of Mother I want to be to the babies that I have been blessed with, here with us.

Our God is a faithful one. He doesn’t give us things that we can’t handle, He gives us trials and tribulations to carve us in to the servant we need to be. I have to move forward, to bring purpose to these lives I held for such a small amount of time.

I am your Mother, you mattered and I will see you, again.

My Corriney

            It’s been a few days since my beloved Corriney passed away. The evening the Lord took her, I had made plans to head up and see her. My parents came over to pile in our truck, with kids in tow, and made our way up to the hospital to see her. She hadn’t been in the hospital long, but something inside me caused haste, telling me to get up there. We missed her by twenty minutes. As we were barreling down I81, our Lord and Savior took His daughter home.

          

  When we got there, she was laying in her bed, so still. In hindsight, the Lord was gracious to me that evening. I was frustrated at the time for not being there when she passed, or even not being able to say goodbye with her still here with us. But now I see, with her wishes to have a closed casket at her funeral, He knew I needed to see her for closure, to see her body one last time to say goodbye.

            It’s taken me a couple of days to process, and each time the wave of sadness strikes, I’m able to follow it up with some sort of smile. Her presence has this effect on you that brings comfort. I’ve felt it all week, even with her gone.

           

It’s been a long time since I’ve lost someone, but I’d have to say so far, this is the hardest loss I’ve had. Corriney was a grandmother to me, she adopted me as her own just naturally, because that’s what she did best; she loved. She loved in a big, loud and reckless way.  She didn’t care if she looked silly doing it, it just was the way she did things. I won’t forget her smell. I won’t forget the way she always had a bunch of things in front of her as she sat where her husband once sat, at the head of the her kitchen table and I won’t forget the way she’d stand In the door way, waiting for you to pull out of the drive way, as if she wanted to be present with you as long as possible.

            

Someone asked me how she impacted my life, and as I’ve had a few days to think of that answer, I’m finally sure on how I want to answer it.

            

Her life was well-lived, long and fruitful, with so many people intertwined among the years. I saw testimony to that today at her funeral. I realized at what being thoughtful and fully present can do to relationships. The importance of recognizing each person that comes in to my life as special. Because they are! That’s the way God wants us to see His people and spread His love among each other. I learned so many things from that woman, but what’s truly impacted me, is to be fully present with everyone; because it matters. The loss of Corriney has reminded me so many times already, to remember that it’s more important than anything else. It’s important with my kids, it’s important with my husband, and it’s important with each and everyone else that I encounter, because that’s how God works; He works within His children.

The Lord still continues to work through her, even still, after she’s left the earth. But you know what remains? Her memory and the change she made in my heart.

I cannot wait to feel that big bear hug from her when I arrive in heaven.

With a long week behind me and her body now laid to rest, I needed a way remember her legacy, because no matter how much time passes, I won’t forget her spirit and her light. Tonight, Jon took me to our local Lowes store, and I searched long and hard for a plant that I could use to represent her life in my home. I found this tree, and its trunk reminded me of the many people that Corriney intertwined together and in that we found relationships. I’ll place her tree in the sunniest spot of my house; I’ll keep it alive and place this photo next to it. I’ll use this as a token of remembrance to my beloved Corriney.

Letter to Moms

I sit with you with a nervous and anxious spirit, sipping on a glass of Vitamin C. It doesn’t sound like the most glamorous night; in fact, these are what most nights  have looked like lately, sporting tattered sweats, a messy bun and probably a pretty tired expression.

For those friends who have faithfully taken the time to always read my blogs, you know I try to paint a very real picture in hopes to spread some authenticity in this world. Tonight through anxious tears, I decided to open up and write these stressful moments out to share, because I have to believe I’m not the only one struggling.  Mother-hood has me on this roller coaster of emotions. One day I am feeling good, I have my hair straightened and my brows done, with an iced coffee to boot! I’m feeling like for once I have it together. The kids are dressed and I’m on time! Those days are good, I like those days.

But how come the bad days, are so bad? The days where I have a house job to clean, the kids are still sick after 4 long days, I have no food in the fridge and my jeans keep falling down. The days where the tears are hot and they stream down my face in frustration. I cannot help but think back to a time, before children, where I lived most days for myself and I decided how I’d spend it. Those days were so easy. Then I get mad at myself for thinking that way, because how could I ever wish for a day where my kids weren’t there? Then the guilt sets in.

Every day I survive as a Mother, is a day I also wonder, will it get easier anytime soon? It’s also a day that I continue to learn about myself as a Mother and not just Mallory. How do the two combine and who will be left after? I don’t have it together, not even close. I ask for help often from my people, like my sister and my own Mom. I often wonder how my Mom must have felt, while she was raising me. Wishing and hoping she didn’t feel this lonely or lost. I’m sure she did. She is a Mother.

There is pain, joy, frustration, exhaustion and of course; love.  A lot of love.

That love that drives us to constantly want better for them and always push through the moments of frustration and exhaustion.

I know it probably sounds like I’m a basket case, and yeah tonight I am. But I had to sit down and share these thoughts, because there is also a beauty in another Mother hearing they aren’t alone. They aren’t crazy and they don’t have an anxiety problem and they don’t need to feel guilty for wishing for simpler times. I realize that at the end of these years, as my kids grow and these nights of anxiety will all be a memory, I will be able to say, that I did it. I made it through in one piece and am strong and worthy of basking in that. 

WE can do this.

Real Talk. Truth Hurts.

I’ve been having some serious writers block over the last few months. Mostly because every-time I’d sit down to write, I’d have these thoughts of doubt- like what do I have to offer this blog anymore? Did I ever really have anything of value to share? I’m not sure where these thoughts of insecurity root from but I’ve always tried not to give them power. So this is me, telling them to shove it.

               

My entire adult life, (all 7 years of it) I have aspired to connect with people. I thrive off a good conversation, an afternoon spent with a friend or a shopping trip through Target with my sister. It fills my cup. It makes me feel alive and that I’m spending my time on this Earth doing something meaningful. Talking and connecting with someone can do a number of things for me. It can distract me from my problems or it can reroute my thoughts-back on a healthy track. If I’m having a bad day, my first move is to reach out. Which is why this blog has always served a purpose for me, by writing these words and knowing they may end up in front of a bunch of people that I know, I feel connected which makes me feel like my words may actually matter to someone other than myself.

                

Which brings me to the topic of why I sat down in the first place; I’ve always felt that social media, which is where I spend a lot of time connecting, can be a negative place if I’m not careful. I don’t mean the usual argument over a heated topic- I mean the lofty feeling of comparison that looms over us as we scroll. I do it. I know you do too. I was just chatting with a friend of mine this morning about how we compare our lives to the highlight reel of someone else’s. It isn’t fair, and it isn’t real. Yet it still affects us and we still post and scroll and repeat that feeling of comparison and inadequacy. As I was going through my day, I couldn’t help but feel convicted.

By posting only the good, the love and the happy days of my life- not the ugly, or sad or even heart-breaking pain I have dealt with so recently. So I will gently but abruptly share a few things that I’m not proud of and I don’t really like sharing with everyone. But I want to be authentic. I want to be raw. I once said in a later post, this is my story and I have to be willing to live it; which for me, means I have to be willing to share and connect.

My marriage is hard, so hard. I struggle on a day to day basis to be an example for my kids, to practice the vows I so freely gave 4 years ago. I get divorce. I understand wanting to run, because this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life; Which is tie myself to another and try to coexist with both of us needing things we can’t always give each other. I love him and I appreciate him in ways I have a hard time communicating. I wish things were easier right now, but they aren’t.

My body image is lacking, I feel so over-weight and with the exhausting nature of my current life situation, working out and eating healthy and changing an un-healthy lifestyle seems like the most daunting task of all. Each and every day I make questionable decisions, like eat donut holes because I’m sad or drink 3 iced coffees and realizing at 8pm that I have had 1 measly glass of water. It’s a struggle people.

Lastly, the mom guilt! Did I tell them I love them enough today? Have they eaten too many servings of mac n cheese this week? She had way to much screen time today. GUYS! I’m horrible at this but I know you mama’s get me here. We need to be easier on ourselves but it’s so much easier said than done.  

This entry has been a long one, but I have to say- its freeing getting a few things out there in the open. I am not ashamed of my problems because I KNOW everyone has their own. My biggest desire for sharing these intimate details of my life, is that It may resonate with someone and comfort them in knowing that we’re all in this together.  

Lost

It’s a balmy, humid morning over here in the country. I awoke early to the sound of my 4 year old, telling me it was morning and time to wake up! I invited her to climb up in to the empty space my husband leaves when he’s off on the road, and handed her my iPhone to occupy her for just a few more minutes of peace and quiet.

After the kids finally woke up for the day, still groggy, I stood from the bed and my legs and back creaked, as I made my way down the hall to my son. Hallie skipping past me, up on her perch- which is a little black storage box that stands next to Cole’s changing table, she stood there and sang to Cole as I changed his diaper. My eyes were still feeling sticky and tired- I thought to myself- how do little kids have so much energy so early? I made my way out to the kitchen which instantly felt hot and humid. The AC had been off all night. I poured each child their morning cup of watered down OJ and started the Keurig. It was a pretty average morning, but I felt differently.

What I haven’t shared, is that lately my heart and mind have been ridden with anxiety. I’ve felt  run down and exhausted. I’ve snapped on my kids on multiple occasions, for just being kids. I’ve been running around my house and my life feeling spread thin-going from task to task, getting more and more anxious along the way. My kids have been getting my worst and I feel horrible about that.

Last night I had a moment of frustration, I had made it through another day- feeling as if my head was spinning all day long. I was tired, irritated and confused as to how I got to be this bad. I felt so guilty. I missed who I had been long ago, happy-go-lucky, driving around my little white car, with the windows down and feeling as if nothing was wrong. Enjoying my day and every interaction I had throughout it. My existence had become this tightly wound Mother who didn’t even recognize who I was anymore. I was literally laying on my floor in defeat; Partially because I couldn’t find the TV remote but also because I felt as if my back was carrying the weight of all of these emotions, and I had no idea  how to get up and feel better about who I was.

Heavy stuff…and I’m sorry to lay it all out. But this morning when I woke up, something inside me clicked. I swiftly walked over to a basket where I keep all my notebooks and other papers, and searched all the way to the bottom for my little black book. It’s a notebook I’ve been keeping since October of 2015. I write prayers in it, and I realized that I hadn’t seen it in months. Conveniently placed right next to it was my bible.

With my kids playing in the other room, I sat down and flipped to the last entry. May 12, 2018.  Are you kidding me? Has it been that long since I’ve sat down with the Lord and really tried to connect? In disbelief, I grabbed it and sat down at my kitchen table. I scribbled out where I had been in my life and the things I was feeling and as I was writing, it occurred to me that Satan had such a hold on my life and I was so blinded by my tasks and schedule that I didn’t even notice what an ugly person it had turned me in to. I got up and hugged my kids and I sent a quick text to my husband. “I’m so sorry.”

This is who I am without the grace and love of Jesus in my life. I become tired and irritated and I start thinking back to times in my life that seemed perfect and long for them and I miss out on the beauty that is in my life right now. Not only does Satan put up blinders, he tricks us in to thinking what we have isn’t enough and isn’t enough to make us happy.

After this long-winded blog, I am thankful for the wakeup call that God so graciously gave me this morning. I cannot wait to move forward today with this peaceful and clearer state of mind. I don’t need to lay in bed and wish for a few more minutes of peace and quiet, I need to rise and seek out the one who is the truth and the reason for life. Rise and give me Jesus.

The Little Black Book 

Big Beautiful Fruit

I sit down with you early; Cole has found a new found love of waking up as the sun does, so it’s the ripe hour of 6:15am. I must be getting used to it though, as I woke clear and ready to go this morning. To me, there has always been something so promising in the early morning hours. They are usually quiet, accompanied by warm, sweet coffee.

In this journey of Mother-hood, I’ve always sought out better ways to do things. Whether its shop for household goods, better ways to organize our never-ending stuff or just emotional support to find that you’re not the only Mom struggling with things. I’m here to say, boldly, that mother-hood is boss. We grind, we hustle and we learn to do it well. BUT sometimes we learn to do this so well, that we forget that it’s okay to let a few things fall away so the things we do spend our time on, thrive and flourish.

God has blessed me with many people in my life. One of which is my sweet friend Courtney. A fellow Mom hustler of her four beautiful children, I’ve come to love so much in this past year. Courtney and I connected on Instagram and discovered not only that we have a ton in common but we live 2 miles from each other. I call THAT a God thing. I was delighted! FRIENDS! They are so rich for the soil of life. What better way to move forward in my journey than to find a fellow Mom to connect with. On many occasions, you’ll find me perched on her sunny deck, with an iced tea, while we chat about life, God & motherhood. It’s glorious. Not only is she a great Mom but she seeks the Lord’s direction for her life which are the absolute best friends to have. She recently shared something with me that will stay with me and I just have to pass a long to the rest of you, she said, “Prune back your tree so that the fruit that it bears is good.” Let me elaborate.

I was sitting on her deck, sharing how stressed I was, all of a sudden I was finding myself over-loaded with ‘things,’ kid activities, chores, cleaning jobs, time with my family, time with friends. How do I juggle it all? Refer above to the bold sentence. She blew my mind and it has been on repeat for about a week now.

Isn’t it the truth though? We pack our lives with so many things that demand our attention that it becomes humanly impossible to do well in all these tasks we’ve lined up. So you end up exhausted, burnt out & doing things with a lack of energy and desire. I’m on a mission this Summer to be 100% intentional about what I choose to spend my time doing, so the things I DO, have my full attention and I can ENJOY. It can be really hard, you may feel at times you are letting people down or disappointing people because they want you to do things. But I’ve decided, others aren’t the one that have to make this happen. YOU do. My kids deserve a Mom who has a smile on her face because she knows the difference between hustling and drowning. I choose happiness and big beautiful ‘fruit.’

God loves us all so much that he wants us to enjoy the fruit that he blesses us with. Our kids, our families, our friends and ultimately our lives. We owe it Him for blessing us so dearly, to give our very best to what he's bestowed on us. So lets shed some of the unnecessary to truly enjoy the rest. 

Our silly girls playing on her deck :) 

Pressing Pause

I originally got on my computer to look for coupons, but I somehow ended up sitting in front of a blinking curser. It’s early on this Tuesday morning, the snow is falling outside my kitchen window and I’m strategically placed in the chair right next to the heat, sipping on my second cup of coffee. I don’t exactly know why I’m here writing, but I can only assume it’s time to scribble out my latest findings in this journey of Mother-hood.

           

To my friends and family, it’s no secret I’ve been struggling in the many complicated feelings and emotions that early Mother-hood brings. These two kids have become my night and day, needing things on a daily basis I never knew I was capable of providing, but yet here I am. I lose count of the many tasks that I juggle in one day. As I write this, I’ve gotten up to fluff the laundry while I helped Hallie use the bathroom and scooped up a fussy Cole up off the floor and in to his car seat, to sit next to me. My day consists of task after task after task.

But wait.

There is certainly a lot to juggle and my day does seem to consist of an endless amount of chores and tasks to keep up with, but I’ve found it’s important to stop, often. It’s important to stop the running from thing to thing, because the ‘things’ will always be there. I’ll always be behind and trying to catch up. With my personality, it’s hard to sit down when there is a lot to be done, it’s been wired in me since I could remember, and as efficient and put-together as I may seem from the outside, it wares me on the inside. I miss out on things daily because of my grind and it often catches up to me in the evening hours as I collapse, feeling exhausted and diminished.

            

This journey I’m on is so full of lessons; I can’t even keep track of them all. This blog serves many purposes but it’s most important one is to look back on the important lessons and remember them and why they changed me and pushed me to be better a Mother, Wife and person. This one is simple and its one I’ve been working on because it goes against my nature, but it so incredibly important.

STOP.

 Stop rushing around your every-day life and breathe the moments in. The efforts I put in to the house and our lives are important but they aren’t everything. They don’t come before my sanity and my kid’s attention. The simple moments of lying on the floor and doing a puzzle with my child, the times I push my shower even farther in to the afternoon, to just cuddle and watch a movie with my kids and when we’re out running errands, it’s okay to take my time. It’s okay to just turn the radio up, sing songs with my kids and enjoy this life I’m bringing them up in. They deserve a Mom who doesn’t see them as a burden but enjoys her time she gets to spend with them. I’m working on it.

So today along with the following ones to come, I’m going to work on slowing my pace down and just letting the tasks sit for a while, because they are sure to be there when I get back