Tag Archives: Love

It’s coming.

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It’s already here.

The despair, the feeling that you’re thisclose to drowning. Running out of breath, running towards an exit, wishing you were anywhere but where you are.

But you’re there.

Sitting next to the person that’s supposed to be your light. But instead, sitting next to them is like being underneath a huge, ominous storm cloud.

It’s sucks and I’m sure there’s a more poetic way to say it but why waste your breath?

Relationships. The shitty ones will suck the life right out of you.

The end.

Love and then love them more.

Life.

So wonderful, so unfair, the innocent die, the wicked prosper, and we cling to the last bits of hope.

There have been so many deaths in my newsfeed not just of the old but of the young. Car accidents, sickness, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, all of them unsettling. I find myself complaining of not having things, THINGS, when so many friends and acquaintances are grieving and wishing they had people, people they loved and even hated back in their lives.

Put your phone down, turn off the screen, take a break from the online world and love the ones you hold dear today. Forgive the ones that wronged you but didn’t know better. Live with the living and remember the ones you’ve lost. Laugh, cry, hope, and grieve. Remember all the amazing things and people that you have and give them all the likes and double taps in the world.

Life is uncertain but your love doesn’t have to be. I wish you all a Happy Father’s Day may you live, laugh, and love everyday like it’s your last.

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So long, December.

It’s been too long since I’ve sat down to write.

I’ve had no energy, no desire, no internal fire to get me going.

My youngest, Emma, had a severe allergic reaction to amoxicillin. You don’t know what it’s like to feel powerless until you’re holding your tiny, red, puffed up toddler in your arms and you hear her gasping for air. You don’t know fear until you’re on the phone with a 911 dispatcher while crying and shaking because your child’s eyes are rolling back and her face has turned completely pale. You don’t know despair until you’re sitting in an ambulance holding your child and just asking over and over if she’ll be ok.

The ER nightmare lasted almost 2 weeks. It started with a cold and escalated into a life threatening situation. No one slept, no one ate well, no one showered or was able to relax. It was a hard time. It made me realize how much I’ve taken for granted and how I need to be more thankful.

I spend too much time on my phone. I don’t play enough with my girls. I pick my fiance apart for little things. I neglect myself.

Well, December, to you I say – Good riddance.

Here’s to another year, another opportunity, another chance to take action. Please stop waiting – Time is unforgiving.

Live, laugh, love… Today and always.

The 7 is coming.

3 days. In just 3 short, fleeting days my baby will be 7.

I can’t stress how much time really does fly. There are moments I missed that I’ll never get back. There are memories that were never made because something got in the way. There are a thousand things I regret and wish I could do over.

My dear sweet Lola,

At 6 your hands are still tiny. Your love is still pure. You fill the house with whys, what ifs, and wonder. Your eyes and laugh still sparkle with innocence. Your dreams are big and very within reach and any wrong doings against you are simply answered with forgiveness. You are my hero and the love of my life. You’ve taught me so much and make me strive to become a better mother and person every waking day.

I love you, sweet pea.

Scarlet letter X.

I’m going to make this short and sweet.

My future mother-in-law is kind of a bitch. And, I’m only adding the kind of because sometimes my fiance glances at my blog.

But how does this woman who is 1,432 miles away manage to make my life absolutely miserable, still?

I’ve read countless of articles and books and they all say to let go. Let go. Move on. That’s all sunshine and rainbows in theory. I’d love nothing more than to forget or forgive the insults and nasty actions taken upon me by her. I would love to somehow rationalize the way she blatantly manipulates my fiance because well, I’m your mother and so you’ll deal with my nastiness and I’ll disown you for leaving me at 30 years old and starting a family.

I’ll insult you and push you off to the side when you have no job. I won’t bother asking if you or your pregnant fiance need anything because I don’t give 2 shits that you two are under a lot of stress and have only enough money to eat .99 tacos at Jack in the Box every day. Nope. I’ll keep updating my status to show people that I practically live in Beverly Hills and that anything else is beneath me. After all, I am a lady of society.

I’ll keep partying and dressing like I’m 21 and then send you pictures of me in tight, leopard dresses so you can tell me I look better than the younger girls I’m clubbing with. I’ll criticizing you and make fun of you nonstop for being with that bitch because I need my rent paid and someone to babysit your brother while I’m out attending events. I need to interrupt you and call you through the wee AM hours to get your attention. I’ll send you texts saying game’s over and anything else I can think of to upset you.

I’ll make you ditch your fiance on Christmas Eve. I won’t go visit my granddaughter who lives 10 minutes away from me because she’ll be there. I’ll start acting like I give a fuck once I know you’re working again and my birthday or any holidays are coming up. I’ll finally want to get closer to Em because she’s a pretty, personality filled toddler who feeds my ego. Yes, she looks nothing like her mom. Thank god. She’s beautiful and all things great obviously because now, I’m her grandmother.

I would love to free myself from the hatred this woman has implanted in my heart. I would love to hug her, have lunch with her, go shopping. I would be smitten with her if she accepted Lo and treated her like another granddaughter. After all, my fiance and her younger son are also from two different dads. I’m no more a whore than she is. Let’s bond over our failed relationships.

She once told my fiance that I was a disrespectful, uneducated girl for not fawning all over her. She said that she would never kiss my ass. Well future mama-in-law, the feeling is mutual. I’ll never kiss your ass, either. I’ve seen it once while you were wearing a miniskirt and bending over and it’s not very appealing. Much like your personality.

Shit, I’m supposed to be letting go.

Fuck.

Things my 6 year old says…

Overheard while in the bathtub with her sister…

So you’re white, I’m tan… We’re still sisters, it’s all good.

When asked how long her sister napped…

Oh, you know like an hour? No, maybe 2. No, wait… 2 hours and 50 cents.

When reunited with a friend she hasn’t seen for a week…

Oh my god, Jasmine! I haven’t seen you in like 30 years!

6 has been quite a ride but I don’t think I’m mentally ready for 7. My baby is getting older. How much longer will she be ok with sitting through Dora with her little sister? Or listening to lullabies? How much longer will she love me unconditionally and be ridiculously forgiving?

I can’t help but notice the baby leaving from her face and in place the beginnings of a beautiful, spunky teenager.

Oh, Lola. You have no idea how much I love you. You drive me absolutely crazy but I’m just as crazy – about you.

Hey mama.

Hey mama,

Your kids are screaming and it’s all good. Mine are quiet right now but that doesn’t mean they weren’t turning my hair gray earlier. Never mind the stares, I get it.

Hey mama,

You’re out in pajamas on a Friday evening? I feel you, it’s my favorite look.

Hey mama,

You look amazing. I can’t believe you’ve ever given birth, I’m kinda jealous. Tell me your beauty and workout routines, I’m listening.

Hey mama,

Don’t keep tugging your shirt down every 2 seconds, I have stretch marks too. Battle scars don’t offend me.

Hey mama,

You’re beautiful and a hot mess. You’re imperfect, you make mistakes, but your love and irreplaceable patience are the building blocks of our future. You are amazing, no matter your size, shape, or quantity of hair on your head. You deserve to be loved and to love yourself.

Thank you, mama. You really are the universe.