Sunday Mornings

It's Sunday.

I'm tired - not just any tired, but more tired than I've been in a while. This week has taken me in a chokehold and basically did exactly as it says - choked me. It's been a stressful week, an overwhelming week, and a week filled with more to dos and sickness than I'm comfortable with. My emotions have been high and the mental workload of this week has been more than the physical ~ thankfully because my body is weary.

My heart gets that way sometimes too.

It's church day and I struggle to get out of bed, but I do it. Not because I have to, but because I need to go today and pray silently for strength for the next week slowly creeping up.

I can't say all Sundays are this way. There are Sundays we don't make it to church. There are Sundays we are out of town, enjoying these weekends with our kids before there simply aren't weekend with our kids anymore. They grow, you know.

There are Sundays we snuggle a little past ten and we don't make it. Does that make me less of a mommy or less of a Christian because I didn't make it to church that day? Or does God just know that I truly did need that day of rest, day of pajamas, or day of family?

Our God is forgiving. I do not believe he thinks less of me because I overslept, nor do I believe he keeps my attendance for my admittance into heaven.

I am raising good humans. I am raising kids who are faithful, compassionate, helpful, and so many more adjectives that I fail to mention. My kids are good. My family is solid. My faith is strong.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: If God isn't keeping my attendance, neither should anyone else. He doesn't side eye because we rolled into church two minutes late or slightly disheveled. He does not care where I rejoice him, where I pray, or where I thank him - be it in front of the altar or in the aisle at Kroger because I finally had time to make it to the store.

The weight on a mother's shoulders is unbearable sometimes. The mental checklist and to do list and the feeling you are never, ever good enough. I don't need someone else judging me because frankly, that's not anyone's job.

Will I make it to church next Sunday? I hope so. But if I don't, rest assured that Our Father is not marking it in his black book.

My children missed school Tuesday and I stayed home with them. They were sick. They needed their mommy..... Julianna missed her first catechism class this year. Am I a just terrible role model because I didn't force her to go, sickness and all?

The Bible teaches us not to judge, to be merciful and forgiving... James 4:11-12 reads, "Brothers and sisters, do not slander one another. Anyone who speaks against a brother or sister or judges them speaks against the law and judges it. When you judge the law, you are not keeping it, but sitting in judgment on it. There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one is able to save and destroy. But you - who are you to judge your neighbor?"

The next time you see that family show up to church who hasn't been all month, say hello and smile. Maybe they've had more going on than they can bear, perhaps they've had obligations that aren't any of your business. But DO NOT judge them. Be merciful, says that Lord. Be welcoming. Do not be a churchgoer who turns people away from church. They do exist!

I guess the moral of my story is this: Don't feel bad for not being perfect. None of his are. Don't feel bad you took a weekend trip and missed church that week. It really is okay to live. Be steady in your faith and in your belief of the unending love and faithfulness of Our Father. He understands ~ more that any human ever could.

You ever heard someone say they're finding their way?

I mean, what does that even mean? Do we ever really find our way in life? I think that we hope we do or we say we do, but are we ever even sure? Life is so changing and so adaptive that the way we may think we have found will likely just require a new path in no time.

I'm not sure why we try to convince ourselves that we've got it all figured out or why some people try to throw perfection in our faces, but it is - for lack of better wording - garbage.

Life isn't supposed to be perfect. Messy things are real. Complicated puzzles are the most rewarding to complete. The days littered with small incidents and to do lists are the best to reminisce about.

Are we really even living if we hold it all in a tidy little bubble?

I get overwhelmed sometimes at my responsibilities, at my lack of time for just myself, and at the idea that one day there will not be little feet running in my hallways. This feeling can overtake me and make me tap my chest to remind myself to actually take a deep breath!

Life won't always be like it is today. I won't always have this precious time with my precious babies. I won't always get to lie in bed and carefully form my body around Lawson's tiny frame and he won't always need to be touching my arm to fall asleep. When the days are long and crazy, I keep those few moments in the back of pocket to remind myself..... It won't always be this way.

Julianna is so grown up these days. She pretty much takes care of herself and entertains herself. Her imagination is wild and fierce, her dedication and work ethic to be admired. She is smart and witty, clever and kind, and an old soul in that tiny body. She is wise beyond her years and looking much older than seven. She breaks me and makes me so proud. I'm amazed watching her grow - I'm amazed at her mannerisms and behaviors that are so reflective of an older child, but then that sweet girl hugs me and tells me how much she loves me and she transforms right before my eyes back into that six pound baby girl who changed my entire world.

Life's blessings are often littered into our lives in the strangest ways. It's meeting a stranger who shares her life story that somehow inspires your hand or holding the door for someone who needed just one small kind gesture today. I don't have life figured out and even though I might say that I, too, am finding my way, I'm not even sure there is a way.

I don't think of life as a roadmap or a way. I think of life as simply life - a gift, not a promise. It's a string of beautiful and messy days, long and short days, good and bad days, woven tightly together to make us who we are. Life isn't a noun to me - it's more of a verb. It's what we're doing, not just a thing.

We are what we do and we reflect what we give. I have felt like a better person this past month, full or promise and hope and confidence. I have enjoyed evenings of homework with my kids as much as I enjoy anything. I think life happens in those boring, mundane every days just as much as it does in those extragavant days and I'm willing to bet that when we look back --

those boring days will be exactly what we miss the most. Enjoy them, my friend. We really do blink and this thing called life gets right away from us - remember to live it.

Fresh start.

It’s been two weeks since I made a decision I thought I’d never have to make.

My entire life, so to speak, has been centered around “what I would do when I grew up.” Easy. I would work at the family business and eventually the clinic one day. I would become a physical therapist and everything would just work out….

Until it didn’t. An occasional bad day turned into an occasional bad month that became a hard year. Being a physical therapist became more about paperwork and insurance regulations than about treating patients and the unrealistic expectations led to resentment of my beloved profession. You would’ve found me three years ago searching in medical journals or reading books to expand my knowledge base and pouring over new information to ensure my patients were getting the best course of treatment possible.

This year, you’ll find me in my office scouring over insurance denials and entering them on websites because no one wants to pay for anything. You’re likely to find me typing up letters justifying why the patient is in physical therapy or shaking my head wondering why the patient is in physical therapy when they’ve verbally expressed “ I don’t want to get better – I want my disability.”

There’s a cold, dark world to physical therapy that people don’t see, sadly. It has become a career that is regulated by insurance companies and by disability lawyers and it’s driving away the same therapists who desire so much to actually care for patients. It’s a hard truth to swallow that some people don’t want to get better!

My physical therapy career has recently made me bitter and cynical. It has left me feeling upset and unfulfilled. I read so many articles about this being a top career and I’m wondering where these people work. I throw a grand a month to a student loan I’m paying for a job I hate…..

And that’s my truth. I have prayed and cried and hoped that God would lead me on a different road and here I am, two weeks later, preparing to leave a job I planned my entire life around. My children are growing up around me and not before me and I’ve always wanted to be a mom. A real mom. Not the mom who puts her job first and her family second and sadly, that’s exactly what I’ve done. I can’t do that anymore.

I have three more months of working here before I officially clean out my desk of 8 years and say goodbye to so many patients and coworkers who have become like family to me. It isn’t this job, it’s the outpatient environment. I don’t know if my next job will be any better or any different, but I do know I need a change and a chance. I cannot sacrifice who I am as a person anymore and I need a life and my sanity back. I am not cut out for the outpatient world. A hard pill to swallow when that’s been your life plan. Nothing like waking up one morning and just knowing the path you’ve been on for twenty years is anything but what you’d imagined.

So, no, I am not running for board of education, but I am working for the board of education beginning in August. I am excited and nervous and am eager to feel like I am truly putting what I know to good use again. I don’t want to just be a “filler” or “someone people go to before they can get their MRI.” I am over that and I need purpose. I feel as though this job appeared to me because that is the prayer God answered. I feel this is exactly where I meant to go. This is what I need so I can love my career again.

Please keep me in your thoughts through this transition – I do not expect it to be easy. But hope – sometimes you just have to jump and hope there’s something there to catch you.

I cried today.

I cried today.

I had a normal day at work today. A regular, steady Wednesday of patients hustling and bustling and spreading myself too thin, which is a normal occurrence. I remember sitting in Ash Wednesday service just last week and heavy hearted as Father Leon talked about not being a Cyclops and erasing the I off of your forehead and I almost cried there too. I sat and thought of all the times I wish I'd had an I and put me first. I sat and thought of all the times I put everyone else before me.... my husband even whispered, "I wish you had that problem." I'm sure there's many more out there like me - who please everyone else first - so I'll go ahead and end my pity party and get to the point.

I cried today and I went home and had a glass of wine.

I didn't need the wine to handle the stress of the day (I'm a pro), but needed it to handle the stress of the world. In case you've been living under a rock, there was shooting in a Florida high school last week that claimed 17 victims. Seventeen precious lives were cut short by a boy with a gun - a boy who never should've had a gun.

I cried last Thursday, too. I cried because my child, my first born, beautiful baby girl asked me if a shooting could happen in her school. She showed me how she had to curl up and protect her head in case someone came in their school. My beautiful daughter and her long legs lie before me, curling into a ball and my breath stopped and my heart raced. What kind of f**king world do we live in where this is okay?!? Why does my child have to know that such violence even existed? Why is this her reality?

Pardon the language, but understand the sentiment. I get so mad sometimes that I want to scream; I cry instead.

I cried today because I was driving home from work and listening to the news on the radio, a common occurrence. They recapped the school shooting in Florida, reported that the 7th grader (yes, 7th grader) in Ohio who shot himself in the school bathroom had died, and how a school shooting was halted in California by a report of a possible threat and the discovery of 2 AR-15s and 90 magazines.

Jaw.
Drops.
Tears.
Fall.

What future do our children have to look forward to if we keep allowing a world full of such violence and such fear? I am terrified every day I kiss her goodbye. What if Little Johnny wakes up today and decides that he can finally follow through. He will take the life of anyone, not understanding the spiraling effect and he doesn't give a crap if that's your child, the light of your world. How do you even begin to wrap your mind around that?

We are all one gunshot away. A gunshot anywhere. There isn't a safe haven anymore and it terrifies me. How do we arm our children with understanding, with compassion, and with a plan? How do we teach them that despite these things, the world is still good? How do we, as parents, push it out of our minds that this could happen here?

I cried today and I'm sure I'll cry several more days. I prayed today too. For Julianna's future and Lawson's future and the future of all of our children. I don't know what needs changed or what the answer is, but I know SOMETHING has got to give and it can't be anymore of our children that take the bullet. We cannot let them continue to be victims and die in vain while things remain the same.

We have to be able to enjoy this beautiful life we are given without fear.....

One day you won't need training wheels

We took a walk this evening. It was so nice out. The temperature just right for a fall day after a long day at work - it's always a long day at work.

My anxiety was at all time high at the post office. An ambulance sped past me and my heart just sank. I thought of you, my sweet girl. Was it you? Were you where the ambulance was heading? It quickly got worse when I realized it was in front of the school. Someone must've noticed the fear on my face when I pulled in because the told me fast that you were okay. It wasn't you. You were fine.

Breathe, Jennifer, just breathe. Your baby is okay.

The walk this evening was just what I needed. An evening of air, an evening of laughs, and some time to unwind with my two favorite people.....until it hit me like a ton of bricks.

One day you won't need training wheels.

One day you won't need to hold my hand when you cross the street or you don't need us to tuck you in. One day that sweet smile will turn into braces and those matching dresses and socks will become mismatched socks and tattered jeans. One day you won't be almost 7 with a snaggle tooth smile.

Not too many days ago, Lawson's fire big truck became a fire truck and then it wasn't talked about anymore...... and my hear just aches knowing these days don't last.

I snuggled between you both on the couch the other night and sat in pure bliss as we, as a family, were uninterrupted as movies played across the television. The three people who mean the most to me nestled tightly under covers and huddled together, sharing laughs and smiles and each other's company..... until it creeped in again. That anxiety. It won't always be this way....

one day you won't need training wheels.

Raising your children has to be the single most bittersweet thing this momma can imagine. It becomes a countdown to when that little human is born to counting down until the days you have left with them here all the time. It doesn't last, does it?

They grow, don't they? The grow up and grow away and become their own little people. It's heartbreaking and heartwarming at the exact same time. It's hard to imagine life without them. It's hard to imagine waking up without hearing those little feet.

One day you won't need training wheels.

So I sit back and watch, I give you hugs and kisses freely, and all the love my momma heart can give because you are my absolute world and while time and days will change, I know you will grow, and I'll enjoy every moment I have left -- training wheels or not. I am SO very proud that I can watch you both grow.

Thinking

I'm rambling today, but not aloud. Rambling with my words on paper and the thoughts in my head. You know, those thoughts that sometimes shake you to the core, even though you can't put your finger on them?

I hardly slept last night because I made the mistake of watching the news before bed. The news that fills me with sadness and horrific images and stories of people who were victims of someone who took their lives for no reason. It's unthinkable that we live in such a world full of such evil. Unthinkable that we aren't safe anywhere. You could be here today and gone tomorrow. I'm just wondering about these people and their panic. How scary this situation must have been. How absolutely life changing and anxiety inducing.

I'm anxious about it and nowhere close.

I remember when the shooting at Virginia Tech happened. I cried tears and sat in classrooms anxious. I was always that girl in the front, the one asking ?s. Close to the door. I sat there, anxious, just staring out the windows knowing I'd be the first to go if a crazed gunman entered our room. And that could happen. That does happen.

I've always been hypersensitive and empathetic. I used to think it was abnormal for me to be able to feel so deeply what others feel. I often wished I could just turn it off because it tore me up inside. I hated feeling other's heartbreak. It'd hit me like a ton of bricks. And my own heartbreak? It was always too much. My feelings hurt for being left out, for being forgotten, and then the internal battle to forget it. Not so easy. The losses, oh the losses.

A life lost.

A love lost.

A child lost.

The tears I've cried for people I didn't know have broken me. The sleepless nights for the children I have never met, the children who never had the chance to grow have changed me. Isn't it funny how love and loss can shape you? The love you have and the love you lose are two of the most crucial aspects that make us who we are. The love for my own children is almost too much for me to bear. The worry about them. I have woken up in a sweat just scared of losing them.......

Oh, Mom.

When you’re a young girl, you’re told to chase your dreams, go to college, become self-sufficient. What you aren’t told is that perhaps one day that you will be a mom. You aren’t told that that your life will no longer be yours once you birth your beautiful baby. You aren’t told that the word “I” disappears from your vocabulary.

So you go. You go to college and you become the best version of yourself and you make a career you are proud of. You do your job with passion and with care because, after all, you worked your whole life to get here. You did it! You made it.

What no one bothers to tell you is that once that little slobbery child comes along, the days become longer – oh my, how they drag. The working hours last longer than your home hours. No one tells you that sometimes you’ll cry in the mornings putting on your mascara because you’d rather snuggle and smell that sweet baby smell while you can. You start over on your mascara because it’s smeared everywhere and this is just a Monday.

No one bothers you to tell you that you will miss so much. No one warns the working momma that they will miss the first steps, the first words…You aren’t warned of these things and you cry, silently and alone, more nights than you'd wish and more instances than you'd ever admit.

Education is pushed upon us more and more and we struggle to become the mommas we want to be because we’re tied to careers we’re in debt to and chained to the jobs we worked so hard to get. Before them. We’re thankful for our jobs and we constantly defend them when someone says, without knowing, “I don’t know how you can work and be away from your babies.” They don’t know that those words are like a knife to you because you want to be a mom so much, but you also want to do your job. After all, you worked for twenty some odd years to get here. You can’t just throw it away.

No one tells you that you’ll miss school plays, award ceremonies, class crafts, and so much more because you are the one behind the scenes, caring for those who need you. No one tells you that you’ll be late for the Easter party because a patient needed you a little longer than expected and you so want to be good at your job too. You want to be the best you can be, at everything.
No one tells you that you’ll feel like you’re failing at everything. Your planner will burst with things for everyone else. Your life becomes one big mess of appointments and practices and work. You’ll look like you handle it all with grace and precision, but what nobody sees is that you are just like that duck, paddling ferociously under water just to stay afloat.

We working mommas have it tough – our minds in one spot and our hearts in the other. We try so hard not to miss a beat, not to miss an event, and not to make a mistake. We work and we mom the best we can. No one tells you how hard this is. No one warns you that there are days you wish you could just be mom. They tell you how quickly it goes, how fast your kids grow – what they fail to mention is how much you really do miss. You know your kids will be proud one day and you do hope you're teaching them to be the best they can be. So your cry and go on to tomorrow because you're mom, after all. You CAN do it all.