I can SO relate to this. (from cafemom.com)
Playing…leads to…stealing…leads to…screaming…leads to…pushing…leads to… refereeing…leads to…hugging…leads to…biting…leads to…crying…leads to…scolding…leads to…more crying…leads to…feeding…leads to…flinging…leads to…cleaning…leads to…bathing…leads to…splashing…leads to…whining…leads to…more crying…leads to…Googling “at-home vasectomy.”
If we don’t laugh, we’ll cry, so might as well find the funny!
She didn’t know all of the words. She couldn’t keep up with all of the choreography. Her sundress was stained down the front, and none of the other kids were wearing cowboy boots. But my daughter shined. In my eyes, there was nobody else on stage. It was her first time performing for a public audience, and I was mesmerized.
Afraid she would run to me if I caught her eye, I tried to hide in the large auditorium. But seeing her eyes frantically dart around the room for me, I stood up and waved. She beamed. Above the din of the crowd and kids, I heard her yell, “My mommy! My mommy came!” As much as I try to avoid cliches, I can’t this time. My heart swelled with pride. Filled my chest cavity and …
I’m positive that it’s negative. (Not my actual test, don’t worry.)
First of all, there’s something I’d like to say to pregnancy test manufacturers: WHY ARE YOUR PACKAGES SO DANG HARD TO OPEN?! I mean, really, can’t you give us a little tab to pull or perforation to tear? Why does that plastic have to be sealed so tightly without even the slightest bubble under which to slip our nail and tear the stupid thing open? Because when you take a pregnancy test, you’re a little on edge, no matter what you want the outcome to be. Is this some male packaging engineer’s idea of a sick joke? “Let’s make ’em scramble a bit before they find out if their life’s about to change…forever! Muahahaha…”
Ok, now that I’ve gotten that rant out of the way, …
As tempting as it is so stay in the rabbit hole, the outside is much more alluring.
12 posts. 5,324 words. Thousands of views. Hundreds of comments. I’ve been telling Eric’s Story for only a week, and already so much progress has been made. But friends, I’m exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually exhausted.
I’ve descended into the proverbial rabbit hole, consumed by the creative process. My natural tendency is to dig deeper, stay longer, until I have to be retrieved after collapsing in the depths. But this time it’s going to be different. I will only write when the words well up inside me and spill out like water over a flooded dam when my fingers hit the keyboard. When it starts to feel like an obligation, it’s time to back away.
I’m taking a break, a …
Need a good scream? Go ahead. Need to let something go? That’s ok, too.
“Something’s gotta give. I don’t know how much more I can take. I’m at my breaking pount… AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!”
When I saw this status update from a dear friend today, my heart ached. Not only because I care about her, but because that could have easily been me a mere six months ago. I feel ya sister!
Not very long ago, I was at my breaking point. Friends were worried about me. Family was worried about me. My boss was worried about me. I was an empty shell, floating back and forth between work and home, the hours, days, weeks and months passing me by. I was physically, spiritually and emotionally exhausted. Something had to give. And not just something minor (those things …
A nearly 20 hour commute. Months (not weeks, or days, or hours) away from home. Desperate to hear your child’s laughter, babbling, crying, whining, anything…not desperate to escape for a few hours.
This is the reality for Tashina Miller, a medical service corps officer, serving as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker at a small Forward Operating Base (FOB) in Afghanistan. She serves a vitally important role on the Combat Stress Control Prevention team, providing counseling, education, traumatic events management, united needs assessments, and prevention classes to service members and their commands.
Mommy=Freedom. I teared up when I saw her caption on this photo from her Facebook page: “Wish I could be hugging this guy :)”
Tashina is also a mother. Her son Cooper is 16 months old and her affection for him permeates her correspondence with me. “(Becoming a mother) really does change your entire life, a change I …