You Are Not Alone

To the mom who sits in the hospital room, waiting for test results and facing more questions than answers.  

You are not alone.

To the mom who drops her child off at day care for the first time, and then cries all the way to work that morning.  

You are not alone.

To the mom who is up all night with a sick baby with a double ear infection, and hasn't gotten more than 15 minutes of uninterrupted sleep.

You are not alone.

To the mom who is diligently checking every ingredient in every food label, in order to keep a potentially life-threatening substance out of her child's body and just keep her child safe.

You are not alone.

To the mom who is carrying her toddler, kicking and screaming and in full-blown temper tantrum mode, out of the grocery store, and who is leaving the groceries behind to be bought another day.

You are not alone.

To the mom who has experienced loss and grief, and feels like her own body has betrayed her after enduring a miscarriage.

You are not alone.

To the mom who is navigating the waters of parenting a child with special needs, loving that child beyond words and wanting nothing more than for the world to see that precious child for who he or she truly is, not simply as a 'label.'

You are not alone.

To the mom who thinks she is not a good mom, seeing only the good in others, but not in herself.

You are not alone.

To the mom who spends long days and nights with her baby, yet feels guilty for longing for adult conversation or for not wanting to change another diaper or clean up another spit up mess.

You are not alone.

To the mom whose child is struggling, socially, emotionally, academically, or physically, and feels at a loss for what to do next or how to help.

You are not alone.

To the mom who is trying to find herself, and figure out who she is, beyond just the title of "Mom."

You are not alone.  

To the mom wondering if she is "enough," who feels like she is constantly trying to keep up and balance it all.

You are not alone.

If you read even one of these sentences, and felt connected to it in some way, you can believe there are other Moms out there who connected with it, too.

You are not alone.  You are not alone.  You are not alone.

Being a mom is one of the best, hardest, most rewarding, most exhausting jobs on the planet.  It provides some of the highest highs we will ever feel, but also some of the lowest lows. 

Sometimes, being a mom can feel like an isolating experience.  

Sometimes, we feel pressure to be everything to everyone, every time; to fulfill some fictional "Super Mom" role that only exists on TV shows and in the expectations we build up in our minds.  

Sometimes, we don't talk about the real life stuff that is going on day in and day out, for fear that we may be the only one struggling with these things.

Sometimes, we convince ourselves that we are the only one to have ever experienced what we are experiencing.  

You are not alone.

As moms, we are so much stronger as a community.  

When we reach out to one another in a real way and share our journeys and experiences in a real way, both the highs and the lows, we create that community.  

Real life is so much more than Facebook posts and Pinterest projects and Instagram pictures of seemingly "perfect" kids and moms.  Real life is hard.  It is worth it, but it is hard.  It is worth talking about honestly.  It is worth building each other up and supporting one another, not comparing ourselves to one another.  

During the hardest times I've faced as a mom, when I've been brave enough to share my feelings or concerns or worries, what I hear in response is most often "Me, too..." or "When that happened to my daughter..." or "I know what you mean..." or "I felt like that when..."  

To hear those words provides an incredible feeling of relief.    

The relief does not depend on if the issue I'm facing can be solved or not in that conversation. 

The relief comes simply from knowing I am not alone; knowing simply that someone else has been there, too.  

You are not alone.

If you are feeling alone, reach out to someone who will listen, someone who will support, someone who will understand.  Find a friend, another Mom, a family member, or even just leave a comment here.  You may be surprised to find someone who has been down that road ahead of you, or is traveling it with you right now.   

Maybe you are able to be the voice that simply says "Me, too."  May you give that precious gift to others if ever given the chance.

You are not alone.

Please never, never forget that you are not alone.  There are so many moms who have walked where you have walked, sat where you have sat, cried where you have cried.  Share your story, share your journey.  

At the moment you feel at your lowest point, like you're hanging on by a thread, like you are the only one, remember you are not alone, and never, never forget, You're a Good Mom. 

 ******************************************************************************************

If you haven't already, be sure to stop by and check out the "You're a Good Mom" page on Facebook.  "Like" it and any new blog posts will be delivered right to your news feed!  Thanks!!

A Thank You Letter to Moms Everywhere

A Little Backstory
For the past few weeks, I've been really looking forward to writing a Mother's Day post.  A day all about Moms on a blog all about Moms?  It's a perfect fit!  At least it was a perfect fit, that is, until I actually tried to start writing.  And then tried again.  And again.  And again.  This day means so many different things to so many different people and elicits so many different emotions.  I had no idea where to even begin.

Every time I tried to pull it all together, something didn't feel right.  The words just wouldn't come as a I stared at a blank screen.  Or I wrote too much without saying anything at all.  So there I sat, at 8:51pm the night before Mother's Day, trying to say something...anything...that would mean something...anything...to anyone out there reading it.

Just about the time I was getting ready to fold up my lap top and give this whole "Mother's Day post" thing a try next year, a notification came through on Facebook.  I happily clicked on over to Facebook because obviously no writing was actually taking place on my end, and this seemed like as good a reason as any to continue procrastinating.  Out of the blue, I had received a message from a friend who had gone back tonight and re-read the very first post I wrote when I started this whole blogging adventure a few months back.  She shared how it had touched her, how it had encouraged her and actually thanked me for writing it.  

Thanked me.  

There it was.  The words that had been eluding me.  The words I needed to hear.  The words that spoke to my heart. 

I was shocked as I read her message.  I didn't feel like I had done anything that warranted a thank you.  A few months ago, I had simply put together a string of words, a few sentences, a couple of paragraphs, and sent them out into cyberspace, wondering if anyone would ever read them.  But she did.  And she thanked me for it.  And that, along with the rest of her sweet message, made me cry.  Right there at my computer, just as I was getting ready to call it quits.  

In that moment, I realized how powerful those two little words were, and how much we all need to hear them.  Even when we don't think we've done anything "special" to deserve them.  And especially when we are just about ready to call it quits.

Sometimes, God doesn't work in mysterious ways.  Sometimes, He just flat out works.  At a time when I was struggling to find words myself, He was speaking them to me through her.  It was the encouragement I needed, exactly in that moment, to put a post together for today.

So here is my Mother's Day post.  It isn't perfect.  But neither am I.  It isn't exactly how I imagined it to be.  But neither is Motherhood.  It is simply from my heart.  

I hope in some way, some part of it speaks to your heart on this Mother's Day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Thank You Letter to Moms Everywhere

Thank you.

You.  Yes, you.  All of you.    

Thank you.

Each and every one of you.  Especially you; you who are feeling like you're hanging on by a thread today.  And you; you who are joyfully soaking up every moment of your very first Mother's Day today.  And you; you who are filled with grief and sadness today as you mourn a loss.  And you; you who are overcome with gratitude and happiness and love today.  And you; you who seems to roller coaster between all those feelings day in and day out.  You.  I'm talking to you.  

Thank you.

Let me say that again in case it didn't quite sink in.

Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.

You don't hear it nearly enough, but thank you.  

Being a mom usually means long hours and lots of work, and often there aren't too many "thank you's" floating around.  Sometimes it's because your child isn't able to speak those words.  Sometimes it's because life just becomes so very busy that there aren't the moments for those words to be sincerely spoken.  Sometimes it's because you are always there, doing what you do, and those words get forgotten.

Thank you.

Thank you for the little things.  Thank you for the big things.
  
Thank you for changing diapers, changing sheets, changing clothes in closets as the seasons change and kids grow.  Thank you for finding lost mittens, lost socks, lost library books, lost dreams and helping your child to believe in them again.  Thank you for wiping noses, wiping down counters, wiping away tears.  Thank you for applying band aids, applying kisses, applying yourself.  Thank you for tying shoes, tying ribbons on pigtails, typing up loose ends.  Thank you for washing uniforms, washing dishes, washing away past mistakes and letting your kids know it's OK to be human.

Thank you for always knowing the answer to the question "Where is my (fill in the blank)?" when it is asked by any family member at any time.

Thank you for sitting at endless baseball games, dance recitals, volleyball tournaments, band concerts, basketball scrimmages, and school plays.  Thank you for helping to sell wrapping paper, cookie dough, coupon books and sub sandwiches so your child could participate in all those activities.  

Thank you for telling your children no, even when it's hard; especially when it's hard.  Thank you for providing them with boundaries and keeping them safe and helping them to understand that life is about so much more than just getting "your way."

Thank you for doing laundry.  And more laundry.  And more laundry.

Thank you for loving your child in a way only you can.  Thank you for giving them a sense of worth just by being there for them, unconditionally, over and over and over again.  Thank you for never giving up on them, even when it gets hard and you are exhausted.  Thank you for having that special place in your heart that has been, and will forever be, saved for your child.  No matter what.  

Thank you for hearing what your children are really saying, even when that message is hidden behind different words; even when they aren't talking at all.  Thank you for giving them space to grow and be who they need to be.  Thank you for hugging them and holding them tight when they need that, too.  

Thank you for the way you embody patience, grace, love, humility, kindness and selflessness.  You are teaching these qualities to your children everyday without speaking a single word,  simply through your actions, and most likely don't even realize you are doing it.  Thank you for bringing to life these intangibles for your child to experience firsthand.   

Thank you for the time, effort, love and care you put into your family.  Thank you for working around the clock.  Thank you for being real.  Thank you for all the things you do, day in and day out, that you don't think of as "special" or deserving a thank you.   

Thank you for being you.

Thank you for being a mom.  

Happy Mother's Day!  For today and for always, You Are a Good Mom.

*******************************************************************************************************
If you haven't already, be sure to stop by and check out the "You're a Good Mom" page on Facebook.  "Like" it and any new blog posts will be delivered right to your news feed!  Thanks!

My Own Personal Lost and Found

I admit it.  I tend to lose things.

My keys.  My wallet.  My patience.  One shoe at a Jimmy Buffet concert.  My passwords for just about everything.  My dry cleaning claim slip for my son's comforter.  My perspective.

That last one is probably the one I struggle with most.  I, admittedly, am also a "sweat-er of the small stuff."  I don't mean to be, and I try really hard not to be, but it seems to be one of those things that continually pops up in my life.  One of those life lessons that keeps presenting itself over and over, most likely because I haven't learned it yet.  Whether it's a pop quiz or a full blown exam, I generally fail.  Miserably.  

I worry about the mess.  I get frustrated with being late.  I see the short-term loss instead of the long-term gain.

Photo Opp...
In an attempt to document the "small stuff" I tend to sweat, and provide a visual reminder for myself to stop and find perspective, I decided to take some pictures.  Over the last week or so, whenever I found myself getting upset or frustrated about "small stuff" at home, I tried to remember to grab my camera and snap a quick picture.  

So, feast your eyes and enjoy the mess that is my house in the pictures below.  I've added my own little "perspective caption" for myself, too.  Hopefully I can use this as a cheat sheet on my next test...

**********************************************************************************************************

I will be thankful for the lotiony fingerprints on the mirror, because it means I had a 2-year-old beauty "helping" me get ready for the day.

I will smile at the piles of books, because it means I have kiddos who are hopefully beginning to fall in love with the written word and will return to books again and again throughout their lives.

I will take joy in the dinosaur I stepped on as I put my shoe on, because it means my 4-year-old son took a creative journey back to the prehistoric ages.  I'm guessing my stinky shoe got to a be a tar pit of some sort...

I will be glad for the string of puzzles that found there way into my bed, because it means I have a daughter who still wants to play with her mom.

I will ignore the muddy footprints in my kitchen, because it means family and friends have filled our home.

I will smile at the scrambled eggs on the floor, because it means we had food to eat, and kids who are independent enough to feed themselves...well, sort of...

I will take a deep breath and not freak out about my kids bringing everything (this is just a small sampling) out of their bedrooms into the living room, because it means my son and my daughter are playing with each other.

I will try really hard not to step on any of these Legos, and be thankful for my budding little engineers and their boundless creativity.

*********************************************************************************************************

This ended up having a couple of unforeseen benefits:

1. It gave me permission ignore the mess for awhile, and acknowledge that no one got sucked into a black hole and the space/time continuum did not tear. 
2. It forced me to stop and be thankful for the causes of this "small stuff," and appreciate that these little messes and mishaps are to be cherished and treasured now, because one day, the ones who cause them won't be living under this roof. 
3. And even an added benefit for you, dear reader...  Don't you now feel like your house is incredibly clean, and you didn't even have to pick up, wash or dust anything!

Put It Somewhere Safe
I wish I could hang on to this perspective; to put it in a safe place where I won't lose it.  (Along with my keys and my wallet...)  Unfortunately, I fear that in the hustle and bustle that is life, this new-found perspective will inevitably get lost again, along with a stack of mail and a wayward toddler sock.  I can only hope for more deep breaths, more photo opportunities and more reminders to focus on what is truly important in this life.  

My faith.  My family.  My friends.  

That is beyond enough.  I am truly blessed.  

When the messes are piling up, You Are A Good Mom.  

When you are busy raising children, You Are a Good Mom.  

When you lose perspective, but find it again, You Are a Good Mom.

Here We Go!

So this is it.  This is me starting a blog.  I'm not really sure what I'm doing or what I'm supposed to write.  I feel like I should have something profound to say that would be worth putting out there for someone else to read.  It should be funny.  It should be poignant.  It should be eloquent.  It should be worth whatever space it is taking up on the Internet.  The first blog entry on a blank page in the blogosphere... Oh, the pressure...

And so I suppose that is where this all begins.  Pressure.  The pressure that comes with being a mom.  The pressure we put on ourselves.  The pressure we inadvertently put on each other.  The pressure the rest of the world puts on us.  But most of all, the pressure we put on ourselves.  

I had been toying with the idea of starting a blog for about six months, after a dear friend had suggested starting one (Thanks, Tara! :), but I had yet to act on it.  Nothing had hit me as far as having anything to say about anything.  I had lots of experiences and lots of feelings on lots of things (and oh don't you worry...that will all come later!), but nothing that really rang true or felt authentic that other people could relate to that I could actually start a blog about.  That all changed after a grocery shopping trip to Meijer with my toddler and preschooler in tow.  (Enter collective sigh by all moms here...)

I had embarked on our weekly grocery shopping trip to Meijer with my 4-year-old son and 2-year-old daughter.  As always, it was my lofty goal to get the things on my shopping list, check out, load the car and get home without a.) losing a child or b.) losing my mind.  This particular shopping trip was in the middle of a business trip my for my husband and the Christmas season.  Double whammy.  Needless to say, there had not been much sleep in our house, and the kiddos were getting a little sick of the "all mommy, all the time" show.  We were far enough into Dad being out of town that everyone was tired, but not yet close enough to him being back home to have that "light at the end of the tunnel" feel.  I was looking especially lovely, having not slept through the night in a few nights, and not showered in just as many days, I'm sure.

We were slogging up one aisle and down the next, and had avoided a couple melt down situations with the distraction of Goldfish crackers, the highlight of getting to walk by the cart for an aisle instead of being strapped in, or the special job of going to get a requested item off Mom's list.    This had been, and was continuing to be, an extra long trip, as I was not only doing our weekly grocery shopping, but also the Christmas grocery shopping for the family gathering of 25+ we'd be having at our house soon.  Things were actually going relatively well, all things considered...and then we hit the baking aisle.  Oh, the baking aisle...

Per our advent activity calendar that I was attempting to do with my kids, we were getting supplies to bake a birthday cake for Jesus for Christmas day.  We have never before done this, but I thought, "What the heck, let's give it a try..."  I told the kids they could pick out sprinkles and frosting to decorate the cake.  They approached the shelf, and of course wanted totally different things.  As I looked up, my son had his hand raised and was coming down at full force to deliver a mighty blow to his younger sister, who was no doubt, aggravating him.  A birthday cake for Jesus and we are hitting each other over it.  Perfect.  I think that parable was somewhere in the New Testament... Anyway... Moments before my son could make contact with his target, I reached out and quickly pulled them both back by me. The aisle was pretty much empty, but the last thing I needed was two kids in major melt down mode in Meijer, with a finished list and a check out lane miles away! 

I'm not gonna lie.  I was pretty close to losing my mind at that point. There were a lot of deep breaths being taken.  I kept my cool the best I could and tried to talk as calmly as I could to my kiddos, and we all worked through the issue without physical violence or crying on anyone's part.  (In general, I consider this a good day...)  I was feeling pretty much at the end of my rope and like my last ounce of energy and patience had just been sucked out of me, and I still had about half a shopping trip ahead of me.  As I finally loaded the kids back in the cart and we were getting ready to finish up our list and survive yet another week in the saga that is the Meijer trip, a woman in her 40s came walking calmly down the aisle, pushing her cart, without any kids in tow.  She didn't slow down, she didn't stop, she just casually walked by and leaned over and said "You're a good mom," smiled, winked and kept walking. She had no intention of having a conversation or talking to the kids, as many people do when we grocery shop.   She just wanted to deliver that message and move on.

That was it.  Four little words.  Nothing more, nothing less.

But they were the four little words I needed to hear the absolute most in that moment.  They weren't in judgement. They weren't in praise. They weren't meant to begin a conversation.  But they calmed me and encouraged me and made me smile when I felt like crying.  They gave me the energy and patience I needed; that my kids needed me to have.  Those four little words did, however,  begin thoughts for me about what we do day in and day out as moms, how we question and second-guess ourselves, how we push ourselves, how we give every ounce of ourselves and sometimes still feel like we come up short.  The quiet, simple encouragement of one mom to another at the moment it was needed most.  This rang true.  This felt authentic.  This felt like something I could say something about.  

In all the thinking, in all the pondering, in all the wondering for six months about writing something and putting it out there...that's it.  That's what this blog is going to be about...at least for now.  

You're a Good Mom.  They are not my words, but her words.  A total stranger in Meijer, who gave me the gift of those four little words at the moment I needed it most.  She will never know what a gift those words were and continue to be.

You're a Good Mom.  Because you need to hear it.  Because I need to hear it.  Because we all need to believe it...of ourselves, and of each other.

I figure that whenever you visit this page, at the very least you will read that title and know those four little words were meant for YOU in that moment...
YOU are a good mom.  

No matter where you are, what you are doing, how you are feeling...
You ARE a good mom.  

No matter what the day has held or the future may hold...
You are a GOOD mom.  

No matter if your baby is a week old, or is now having a baby of her own...
You are a good MOM.  

Just by swinging by this little piece of the world wide web, no matter if you stay to read anything or not, you have heard the message YOU ARE A GOOD MOM and I hope you take it to heart.

So there you have it...I guess that takes the pressure off me having to say something funny, poignant, eloquent. Taking the pressure off?  I think that's a pretty good place to start...for all of us.