thirty days with a grateful heart. day six.

day six.  graham higgs.

Before Little J was born, there was no way I could have even imagined how much I would love him.  Nothing in my life could have prepared me for the breadth, the depth, the sheer and utter magnitude of emotion, of love, that overcame me when I held him for the first time.  My baby.  My boy. 

My heart swells and my eyes fill when I remember that day.  How incredible, really, that day I became... a mother.

I must be honest, I was worried when I learned I was pregnant with Frankie.  I'd given my heart to Little J.  Was there room for her?  How on earth could it be possible to love, to love them both, like that?  Wholly?  Completely?  With every ounce of my being?

And then, well, and then, she arrived.  And in that instant, I knew what mothers forever have known.  There is no occupancy limit on a mother's heart, it simply expands and makes room. 

Of the myriad titles that I hold... daughter, friend, employee, wife, runner, aunt... mother is the one that I covet above all others.  Because stripped down to my very core, a mother is what I am.  What I have always wanted to be.  What I always will be. 

I look at my littles and I see the incredible young adults they are becoming. I study them when they are not aware. I watch them as they interact with others. I ask them questions and I listen to them respond. Sometimes their answers are as I imagine they will be.  And sometimes, their insight, the depth of their thought simply blows my modest hopes away. 

I am so amazed sometimes, so proud and full of them, I cannot even contain it.  And I know that I cannot take all the credit, I know that as the old adage goes - it takes a village - but as I watch them, I cannot help but be filled with such... gratitude.  That maybe I haven't done such a bad job after all.  That maybe, just maybe, I might even be halfway decent at this mothering thing. 

Oh, how I hope so. 

Oh, how much added importance it has.

Because just as my heart grew to make space for my own, incredibly it has expanded even more, to make room for this little one...

my godbaby, Graham, who was born last week.

I have loved his momma for a long time.  And when she and his daddy found out he was to be, they paid me the highest compliment a mother could ever hope to receive... they asked me to be his godmomma, to help them to watch over him, to protect and help teach him, to do what I do because it is, most simply, what I do.

So honored.  So grateful.  So crazy in love with this new little life.

My heart is... full. 

xoxo,
m

three hundred words a day. on change.

life is change. growth is optional. choose wisely.

 

 

If you glance at my facebook profile, right beneath my name, birth date, phone number and all the other about me stuff that you likely never really look at - you will see that quote.

life is change.

Change.  A universal truth.  Not one thing in our world today is as it was yesterday, from the sun in the sky to the teensiest cells in our body.

But if change happens, if I know there is no escaping it, no running from it, no denying the inevitable, then why, oh why, do I have such a hard time with it?  Why does the hair stand up on my back with the simplest mention of change?  Why do I look away, avoid, pretend its not happening at all?

Perhaps it is because that with change, there almost always comes a decision.  Left or right?  Yes or no?  Stay or go? 

What if I choose wrong?  What if I should have zigged when I was supposed to zag?  Ran when I was supposed to walk?

growth is optional.

Maybe it is not so much about the actual decision itself.  Maybe for me, what I eventually decide is less important than having been able to make the decision at all. 

For most of my adult life, I've given my choosing to others.  To my mother, to co-workers, to family and friends.  My family often teases me that when presented with a decision, I used to smile sweetly, shrug and say simply, ok.

Growth was optional then.  For me.  No choices means no responsibility.  No accountability.  Never taking the credit but also - never assuming the blame.

I changed.  I cannot pinpoint when it happened, and it has caught me somewhat by surprise, I would have you know.  But I have.  I have changed.

Because no longer do I fear the change.  No longer do I fear the growth.  No, now, my greatest hope is that I can simply...

choose wisely.

three hundred words a day. july 3.

I absolutely love the new Keifer Sutherland show, Touch.  I recorded the series and just recently watched the episodes in succession, a few at a time, over the span of a couple of weeks. The young boy at the center of the series narrates the opening scenes, alluding to the theme of that particular episode.

One day as I was watching, a seemingly simple statement the boy made stuck with me. 

Human beings crave connection.

Think about it for a moment.  Such a simple statement.  Such a huge truth. 

Human beings crave connection.  With families, friends and loved ones, with the stranger whose path we cross in our daily commute.  We need to touch, to be touched.  We need to speak, to be heard.

We crave... connection. 

Why is that, I wonder?  Perhaps it is self preservation, we crave it because our bodies require it.  Like they require air to breathe.  We crave it because our minds need it, the stimulation, the interaction in order to learn, to expand, to grow.  And our hearts?  Oh, our hearts need it.  Maybe even most of all.

And yet, how often do we withhold creating those connections with others?  How often do we glance down as we pass a person on the street?  How often do forget, neglect, to interact with the very ones we say we love?  How often do we bypass the hug, the touch, the physical - too busy, not right, no need?

As our world has become virtual, technological, and our interactions computerized, impersonal, it has become increasingly difficult to create those connections we need most.  Working from home, isolated from others daily, I live this truth more than I care to admit.  But we must seek them out.  I must seek them out. 

We crave... I crave... connection.

thirty days with a grateful heart - day three

day three - falalala lifetime

Ah.  Lifetime.  I heart Lifetime.  Especially at the holidays.

No, I'm not talking about Lifetime Fitness, although, actually, I did used to (kindof) heart LT last year when I was (kindof) training for Ironman and I used to (kindof) swim (which I so did NOT heart) there on volleyball practice nights.  Well, that was until they wanted to charge me a single daypass fee of $30 last week when it was dark and raining and I was feeling wimpy and didn't want to get my new running shoes all wet.  Or my hair for that matter.  So I dropped Frankie off and headed over there and $30 for a day pass?  Puhlease!  I asked the receptionist what US Fitness charged, which just so happened to be right next door, she said she didn't know, but I am pretty sure she did too know (it was $15) and that she probably thought (wrong!), what with it raining and all, and what with me being all dressed to workout and all, that I'd just shell out the $30.  You'll be glad to know that I most certainly did not because, well, hello?  I could have my hair washed and dried by a professional for $30. 

Wait, where was I?

Oh yes, Lifetime.  I heart Lifetime.  You know - the tv channel?

For at least a couple of hours most weekends the month of December, you can find me and oftentimes both me and Frankie, in front of the television watching the Christmas movies on Lifetime.   Seriously, I've seen them all...  A Diva's Christmas Carol, Home for the Holidays, The Holiday Switch, the Road to Christmas, Dear Santa.   You name it, we've seen it.  A few times.  Ok, maybe more than a few times.

There aren't many shows that I make much of an effort to watch - and most definitely not at the time they are actually shown, thank goodness for the DVR - so the fact that I can sit, sometimes for hours (and hours) on end, watching sappy Christmas movies is rather... interesting.    Especially considering that each and every one is just a slight variation of the other - a story about some sort of a crisis or catastrophe that, incredibly, miraculously, is completely resolved to the joy and happiness of all by the approaching Christmas holiday.

Homeless people find shelter.  A widowed, lonely man finds a wife.  An orphan is adopted.  The wicked witch boss develops a giving heart.  A secret wish comes true.

I heart them.  Every single one.  You know why? 

I heart them because I know, every December, I can snuggle up with my girl in a comfy chair, and have my faith in the simple goodness of life restored.  That happiness will happen for us.  That Santa exists if we say he does.  That love is right around the next corner.  And that no one has to be alone.  Especially on Christmas.

falalala lifetime!