Tag Archives: Parenthood

Something more

“You napped until you were 5,” I’ll tell my son.

You were stubborn as any icicle in hell, that’s for sure. Always staunchly certain you’d survive the afternoon until sleep melted your resistance into dreams.

I always loved that moment when I’d peak my head into your room to find silence holding you softly in its arms, your little body in a contorted position, warm and sweaty, with a familiar pink dusting your eye lids.

I’d close my eyes and whisper quietly, “God, I love this little boy, please keep him safe.”

My heart always danced a funny flitter. Any good parent watching over a healthy, innocent child knows this magical, frightening feeling.

 

What will happen when you go off to school? I’d think.

Share your first kiss?

Fall in love for all the wrong reasons?

Will you believe in soulmates,

And find yours in the girl whose eyes pull you toward her spirit?

 

Sometimes when we hit the road,

I reach my hand behind the seat to lace your little fingers in between mine.

We drive, without question, holding hands, and you never seem to ask me why.

I just reach, and like gravity, you reach too.

We sit in the silence because sometimes, as you always say,

We just like the quiet.

 

Yes, the quiet.

 

Today you said something, and I wanted to cry, but we were in the grocery store, and you wouldn’t have understood my tears, or maybe you would have.

Rounding the corner near aisle 6, I watched you stop, scrunch your forehead and say,

“Mommy, there’s something inside my heart that makes me go the same direction as other people.”

My eyes widened, and you waited patiently for my reaction.

I asked you to repeat what you had said because, well because I wanted to hear it again and make sure I wasn’t making things up in my mind, as I often love to do (hence poetry).

 

Again, a bit irritated with me now, you said:

“Mommy, listen, there’s something inside my heart that makes me go the same direction as other people.”

 

You did a little dance around the shopping cart, and the quiet came over us again.

I felt a lump in my throat surface, and tears glazed my eyes,

Spirit wanting to cleanse itself upon hearing this profound truth

Spoken by you.

You didn’t mind that I was at a loss for words.

Sometimes truth is loud enough that commentary seems noisy.

We kept walking in the same direction.

 

Sometimes I wonder who you are, I wonder how you know these things. I wonder why you trust me and love me as you do. I wonder if you know how much you’ve taught me. I wonder what your friends will think. What your teachers will say. Where your heart will lead you. What direction and with what kind of people you’ll walk.

 

Lucas, something inside my heart makes me go in the same direction as other people too. It’s the reason I get up every day. It’s the feeling that moves me to hold you closer. It’s the hunch that nudged me to create this blog. I think what you’re referring to is connection.

 

Yes, I believe that something in your heart is yearning for connection, for love, for compassion, for acceptance. Something greater. Something more.

I know because I feel it too. But oh my wise little Buddha Lucas, you don’t have to look very far – because all of those things are already in you, right there in your heart. You feel it because you were born with those things.

As my favorite poet often says, “We are born whole. We need others to be complete.”

My little light Lucas, you’ve got the answers already, at age 4! Now go and keep walking where your heart wishes to lead you.

Your light will brighten so many people.

 

Thank you for making me smile, even now as I write this. I can’t wait to share these memories with you when you’re old enough to understand how much you’ve helped mommy.

But for now, I’d like to keep walking in the same direction as you, that’s if you don’t mind of course.

 

I love you,

Mom

blackandwhitemeandluca

 

The courage to be vulnerable

If you’re uncomfortable with truth, this post may not be for you.

If you’re uncomfortable with emotions, this post may not be for you.

If you’re here for a “Facebook worthy post” with a false sense of ‘yay my life is peaches and cream!” – this post is definitely not for you.

If you’re still here, I want to ask you:

What does ‘being vulnerable’ feel like for you?

I asked myself this question after witnessing a beautiful soul talk about her struggle with vulnerability. I’m referring to Brené Brown, author and researcher, and total kick-ass warrior against shame. After watching Brown bare her truth on stage, I couldn’t help but shed a few (okay, a lot of) tears and embrace her struggle as my own.

If you haven’t seen her TED talks or read any of her books, I’ll summarize for you. In her deeply insightful book, Daring Greatly, Brown writes:

“Vulnerability is not knowing victory or defeat, it’s understanding the necessity of both; it’s engaging. It’s being all in. We must dare to show up and let ourselves be seen. This is vulnerability. This is daring greatly.”

She often reiterates the point that courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.

Again and again she says,

Vulnerability is courage. The courage to be seen.

 

So let me ask again, what does being vulnerable feel like for you? Does it scare you? Do you associate it with weakness? Would you consider ‘being vulnerable’ courageous?

 

What happens when you allow yourself to be seen? When you let your guard down? When you say the truth of a situation and how it makes you feel? When you make a pitch to your boss? When you introduce a boyfriend to your family? When you have a tough conversation with a family member? When you share a lifelong dream with a friend? Do you immediately regret it? Do you crawl up in a ball and cry?

Tell me, what are your vulnerabilities?

 

I’ll start with a few of mine. Here are some painfully vulnerable moments from the past few years of my life that have stuck with me and to this day make me feel uncomfortable.

 

Vulnerability is….

 

-Telling my partner that I’m unhappy

-Admitting that I need professional help

-Saying ‘I love you’ to a man who I know doesn’t love me in return

-Quitting school to have a baby at age 19

-Flying out of the country for the first time, alone

-Telling a loved one that her expectations of me are ruining our relationship

-Sending my book of poetry to a stranger

-Calling said stranger on the phone and admitting that I am completely terrified of watching this book come to life

-Hearing this stranger say that he’s all in — that he believes in me

-Having a dream so huge that it makes me cry when I talk about it

-Wearing a swim suit

-Explaining to my son why mommy is sad some days

-Talking about God

-Overdosing on prescription medication and waking up

-Talking to God about why she woke me up

-Beginning college for the second time and immediately panicking

-Sharing my story in a therapy group after being hospitalized for major depression

-Writing a book and wondering if the one person I desperately want to read it even will

-Letting go of one dream to pursue another

-Forgiving myself for So. Many. Things.

-Losing best friends after telling them I was pregnant

-Surrendering to Love

-Calling my grandma for the first time after my grandpa went to be with God

-Opening up to strangers and accepting them as soulmates (yes, I believe that many people nourish our souls!)

-Looking in the mirror and accepting that this is what I look like

That this is who I am.

———

Phew! I am going to have a vulnerability hangover after this post! But YOU GUYS!!! WE MUST START FACING OUR TRUTHS. WE MUST START SHOWING UP IN LIFE! I don’t know about you, but being vulnerable feels really awful at first, but there is good news. If we can just start to lean into that uncomfortable exposure, it is possible to enjoy a freer, healthier, more purposeful life. Living with intention allows us to embrace each precious moment that waits for us right here, right now.

 

I encourage you to think about your vulnerable self. What are your vulnerabilities? Can you name a few? Why not try writing them down and sharing them with a trusted loved one? What if you started the conversation today? If you find it too difficult to voice your vulnerabilities, think about what is preventing you from having the courage to be vulnerable and show up?

 

Before you begin exploring your vulnerabilities, please remember that you are enough. You are worthy of love and belonging. Do not let others, or yourself, tell you any differently. What you think about yourself may not be the truth. We all have our ‘shit’ that we’d rather not face. This doesn’t change the fact that You are enough. You are enough. You are enough.

Being vulnerable is not weakness. It is courage. It is courage.

It is courage.

Have the courage to face yourself in a naked, honest way.

Enter the arena that is your life. It may feel scary, it will be painful at times, and that’s okay.

Your soul thanks you.

Sending light and so much love to you all.

Let’s be courageous together.

I love you!

 

-Ki

 

**Infinite thanks to Brené Brown for starting the conversation on vulnerability and shame. You can never know how many lives you are saving right now. You are a beautiful, brave warrior. You inspire us to enter the arena ever day of our lives.

“Just because” — a story of gratitude

A little boy wakes with his father before dawn. He sits sleepily on his haunches on the bathroom floor while his father readies himself for the day. The two remain quiet in the hushed space between them, catching glimpses of the other in the mirror.

His father lays him next to his mother before departing at dawn.

“I love you,” they say together, and the boy returns to sleep.

A patient morning light wakes the boy and his mother to stir. He runs to the window to find fresh snow this sixth day of January.

“This is my lucky day, Mom!”

“Why sweetie?”

“Just because.”

 

I greet today with that little boy in my heart. His eagerness to spend precious moments with his father, his willingness to remain quiet when others are not yet ready to speak, his ability to completely surrender to sleep – and most admirable, his unattached appreciation for living, for simply being here, rising again, today. What a magical way to live.

There are days like today when I am so overcome with gratitude for that wonderful little creature I call my son. There are days like today when my questions are answered in a mysterious and magical way, and I am again reminded to keep going.

The past few weeks have been an emotional and blissful ride. I found an editor who knows my heart and shares my soul. Friends and family continue to cheer me on as I fight myself on the road toward realizing my dreams. Dubious thoughts creep in often, pushing me to question the purpose of these wild and untamed dreams of mine. Last night I cried, I told myself I don’t know how to do ‘this,’ I shared my fears with a loved one, and I left my office in disarray for the night.

I woke up this morning to the story of the little boy — his simple yet profound way of living lifting a weight from my heavy head. His diligence in waking with his father every morning reminds me to return again to my office this morning. His open ears and patient way of listening teach me to remain open in the silence of now even at the most exhausting hour of our existence. His ability to surrender to sleep and then wake with curious and grateful eyes shows me how to truly live. Yes, I believe the Universe is speaking to me now.

We are only human. We tire, we doubt, we fall to our knees and ask for answers when it seems there are none to be had. I believe that when we ask enough questions and allow patience to fill the space between frustration and understanding, we are again called to keep walking our unique paths. We are again called to look outside in awe of what is happening right now… if for no other reason than “just because…”

Just because living is the greatest question, the greatest answer, the greatest privilege of being a human on this earth.

 

I hope you have the strength of diligence, the capacity for empathy, the eagerness to greet today as if it were your first chance at life.

I wonder what life would be like if we all marveled at the world today just because…

With love and light,

Ki

me and my guy

 

To my friends

With so much wrong in the world, I wonder what is right anymore. As unfortunate events continue to unfold in the world and shake up the minds of my generation, a few close friends have turned to me for advice. I think, me?! What can I give? What wisdom do I have within me? I don’t know anything other than what I live each day. I’m not a teacher, nurse, politician, world traveler. I’m not necessarily cultured, I didn’t even finish my degree for God’s sake! I’m a mom, a ‘kind-of’ writer, what can I possibly give to these friends during such a scary time in our world’s history? I’m probably the least qualified person to give advice, yet for a split second I am humbled that others look to me, so it’s time to do what I love to do: Remind the world that there is good everywhere, and it is up to us to see it and spread it like wildfire. I wake up each day with these words in my heart: You are the light. Be it, live it, spread it everywhere you go. The same goes for love. Be love, live love, and spread it everywhere you go.

So, to you friends, this is what I can offer you today:

I, too, am scared. What a scary time to live. What a scary time to raise a family. Ebola, ISIS, beheadings in our own country, terrorism, disease, cancer, abductions, and the list goes on. But let me remind you that you have a choice each morning when you raise yourself and your spirit from bed. You must choose life. You must choose to live. Live for the moments of true connection. Yes, that’s the secret. That’s it. Use every moment you have to connect with the world and the people around you. Get out of your head, and get into the world. Let the fear, the doubts, and anxiety pass, and plug yourself into what truly matters.

Spread goodness —

You don’t have to be a powerful person to spread a powerful message. It is up to each of us to harvest an inner love, an inner goodness, and we must spread this goodness, this light, to every person we know, to every person we pass on the street, to every person who serves us in restaurants, to every person who shows us hospitality, to every person with a beating heart. Can you imagine what our world would be like if we all did this every day? If we all smiled at each other? If we all cared just a little bit more?

Live spontaneously —

Plan for your future, yes, but don’t forget about spontaneity. Perhaps it feels impossible to be spontaneous when there are bills to pay and meetings to attend. At times, yes, you have to suck it up and go to work. There are evenings when you have to clean your house or go to bed early, but don’t forget to look for the moments when you can look into another’s eyes and connect with him. Get out of your routine, get out of your head, and tap into that universal energy which brings us all together. Go for a run in the park only to be surprised by an old man’s genuine interest in how your day is going. Ask how he’s doing, and leave the park feeling renewed. Call a friend half-way across the world and be surprised when the chat ends 3 hours later. Make a side note about how good it feels and how much you needed that spontaneous chat. Talk to the new neighbor on your street and find out that she’s from England and needs a friend, just like you do. Yes, all of these examples are recent experiences of mine.

Laugh and dance and yes, have a good cry –

I cannot tell you how good it feels to listen to a favorite song of mine when I am at my lowest. If you are a close friend, you know I love European dance music (which I’ll admit is a bit odd for a Midwest American girl, but hey! It’s who I am!) – There is nothing better than getting lost in the words, the beat, the rhythm, and connecting with that silly side of myself. It is good for my heart, my health, my soul. It is good for you, too. I really do believe it’s good to get caught up in our emotions sometimes. I believe in laughing until our bellies hurt. I believe in crying until our souls are cleansed. I believe in dancing ridiculously until my toddler asks me to ‘please stop, Mom.’ We are humans! We have emotions for a reason! It is okay to feel them — It is okay to let them move through us, so long as we remember to come back to what matters most.

Unplug, and Be present —

Turn your phone off right now. What would happen if you unplugged for half an hour a day? What would you do with that time? Would you pick up a book? Would you meditate? Would you take a walk? Would you say a prayer and send good vibes to other parts of the world? My, oh my, what 30 free minutes can do for your soul! I dare you to try it!

Most importantly friends, Be with the ones you love. Your presence is the only thing that truly matters. If you can give nothing else to the world, at least give it your attention. Stay current with what is going on around you, and keep those you love most close to your heart. Make a phone call to an estranged friend. Say I love you. Give hugs. Offer your time, your advice, offer your true self to the world. When the money runs out, when we’ve traveled the world and returned home, when the child in us is tired and needs a rest, all which is left are the people we love. Be present with them, that IS enough.

Cheers, friends.

coffee mug ki

The best teacher I’ve ever had

I held my little guy’s hand during our afternoon walk yesterday. He asked why leaves turn colors then quickly interrupted me mid-explanation to say, “Mom, it doesn’t matter why.. it’s just so beautiful. Will I turn colors too?”

I’m so thankful for each moment that brings us closer together. He is the most inquisitive, intuitive, insightful person I know. I wrote a letter for Lucas when we returned home from the park. My hope is that years from now, I can share this note with Lucas when he begins to notice his unique differences as he evolves into the person he’s meant to be:

Lucas, your 4-year-old self told me today that change is beautiful, and you are right. It doesn’t matter why things change, they just do, and it is beautiful when we see with accepting eyes and embrace the moment before us. My sweet little man, evolve and change as you will, and show all your colors to the world. Some of the greatest teachers are the silent trees of the world who show and don’t tell. You seem to catch onto this quite well. Hold onto that. Hold on so damn tight. Few people truly embrace change for what it is. Few people are like you. Few people love as you love. Few people come to know what you know now, at age 4. Thank you for always reminding me why I live and breathe and grow each day. Let’s be like those trees and twist toward the light, turn our colors, shed our bark, stretch our limbs as far as we possibly can, and maybe, just maybe, our roots will grow deep and last a very long time. Your questions make me a better person. Please, never stop asking them. I love you and all your colors. You are the best teacher I’ve ever had. My only request is that you keep playing and dancing and living in the light.

You are loved. You are enough,

Mom

sun

 

The good hurt

He just keeps running from me

A little bit more each day,

Our hands held one moment less today,

Our giggles lasting a minute shorter,

And I keep thinking, how do parents willingly do this every day?

It never gets any easier

Letting go.

I don’t understand this constant cycle

My baby boy walking and talking,

Hilarious and wise,

Laughing and stepping into moments

Apart from me and dad.

But I smile and clench the tears,

Biting lips until the coast is clear

And it’s okay to cry.

He’ll never know how good it hurts

To be his mom.

lucas on bridge

I’m exhausted. I don’t know how some moms do it… the ones with multiple. Hell, even the ones with just one, like me. My dog is staring at me like I forgot to do something, which I probably did. You do lose your mind after having kids… that is a fact. I look forward to this time of day though. 2PM. Nap time, or at least I think he’s napping. If he’s playing quietly, I’m okay with that. I just need a break. I can’t believe he’s leaving tomorrow. The next chapter begins, and I’m not quite sure I’m ready.

As I’m sitting here, eyes heavy from the early mornings, I know I need a break. Some days I pray for a relative to call and say he/she is on the way to steal Lucas for the day, but as I stare at the calendar above my bookshelf, I can’t help but feel the nerves swell and swirl in my belly. It’s time to let him go a little bit more. Preschool starts tomorrow.

This is how it goes though, I guess. The day comes when we need less of one thing, and more of another. There are periods of time, months, years, even decades when less of ‘this’ means discovering more of what is next on the list. I’ve had 4 years of unconditional Lucas, 4 years! An abundance of love, growth, challenges, and blind hope, on-call and alert 24/7… and it’s time I need a little less in that direction. It’s time he needs a little less of his momma’s helicopter love. Yes, I can admit I hover. It’s time we both work on ourselves, our own individual paths, apart from each other.

A little less time together doesn’t mean we will love any less, and it sure doesn’t mean he’ll forget me (though I worry). A little less will bring a little more of what we both need, whatever that may be. No, I don’t know where exactly my life is headed. I don’t know what is next. I don’t know Lucas’ path or how he will walk it. But we’re moving and learning and growing together, supporting each other.

There’s a lot I don’t know, and I’m relieved to say that. What I do know is that life is a beautiful cycle of less this and more that. It is certain to happen that ‘the plan’ of what life ought to be always blooms into what my soul knows it will be. Do our lives ever go ‘as planned’ anyway?

I hope you begin to see that every moment is beautiful during times of change and uncertainty. Just because you can’t see what’s next doesn’t mean something magical isn’t happening right now. Look for the good. Hope for magic. Open yourself to every step along the way. We all go through this. Trade less for more, more for less, let life move through you. Be fluid, be in the moment. Trust that in weathering this change, what is next will be more beautiful than you could ever have imagined.

Sooner than later, we find the answers. Keep going.

Ki

I’m getting better at it

My son is a little Buddha — a tiny guy with a big belly and an even bigger heart. I first started the ‘little Buddha’ joke when I noticed skin playing peekaboo from underneath his t-shirt. All parents go through this with their children. Growth spurts ignite the dreaded ‘in between sizes’ phase. One day the shirt fits, the next… sheesh! All you see is belly! We laugh together as I tickle the exposed part of his belly, and that was it for a time.

Suddenly, I find that my once lighthearted reference is now quite a fact: my son is a little Buddha, wise with untainted knowledge and insight, a being capable of unmatched love and compassion. Over a cup of hot chocolate one chilly morning, Lucas eyed me and sternly voiced his concerns.

“Mom… if you give me too many pieces of your heart, you won’t be alive.” He smiled, wiggled in his chair, and continued sipping hot chocolate with marshmallows.

(Cue shivers up the spine) — I mean good god!! What?? How did our conversation shift from Tuesday morning cartoons to the challenges of parenting?? I smiled in silence and stared at the Crayola craft table that separated me and the enlightened being who cheerfully scanned my face for a reaction. I was baffled. Mute and dumbfounded. And as any other over-thinking parent would do, I fell into the depths of introspection.

Am I giving too much of myself? Do I love him too much? Can he sense my anxiety? Does he know I’m exhausted? How does he KNOW these things? Does he know I’m a people pleaser? Can he read the worries on my face? Can a three-year-old know and comprehend the idea that pleasing everyone first leaves little time and energy for oneself?

Well, he’s figured out the secret to life.

He is right. Every word is the truth: If you give too many pieces of your heart, you won’t be alive. His words scared the hell out of me and ignited tears, so I politely excused myself from our hot chocolate date. Perhaps they were tears of relief. Perhaps they were tears of joy. I’m not sure. Perhaps I cried for all of the moms and dads who undoubtedly face this issue: when we give too much of ourselves, we (and those closest to us) suffer the most.

To say I struggle with this issue is an understatement. I am consumed with balancing my well-being and that of my family, friends, and blog readers. I am plagued with a hunger to tend to everyone else first. I’m convinced it is engrained in my DNA. I want to ease pain, fix everyone and every tough situation that arises. I smile and tend to others before giving a thought about me and my needs. Motherly instincts remind me that every waking moment with my son is an opportunity to teach, play, learn, and explore. Embarrassing as it is to admit, I sit at the computer replying to emails from friends and new readers of mine across the globe — advising, listening to, and easing others before I’ve showered, eaten, even used the restroom! I am obsessed with helping others; it consumes me; and I think Lucas sees that. I know he does.

I know he suffers because of it. I know he hurts inside when Mommy is stressed and on edge. I know he vibes off of that, and in knowing this, I have a choice. I can keep going, keep doing, keep helping, keep tending to everyone and everything and risk becoming worn down by life and living and caring. I could walk on this winding road for years. I could. I know this road quite well. It’s beautifully paved with exhaustion, sleepless months, and anxiety. But it’s familiar.

Or I could slow down. I could put a pause on all of it. I could prioritize my health, my family, and my goals. I could tell my readers that I need some time to respond. I could take a moment to realize how absurd it truly is to worry about everyone else first before myself! I could toss the selfish feelings aside and go to the gym. I could turn off my phone and reply to emails in the morning. I could go for a walk with my son, and leave everything else in the back of my mind for an hour. Yes, I could do that.

And I am. I am spending much less time blogging, connecting, Skyping, pleasing, helping, etc. and more time focusing on my health and well-being. It feels strange when I choose an afternoon at the gym, but my body thanks me afterward. It feels selfish to spend an hour juicing veggies when I could be practicing counting to 100 with my son, but my spirit thanks me afterward. Sometimes it feels like a waste of time to lay in bed with that book I’ve been itching to read when I could be cleaning and washing dishes. But my mind thanks me afterward.

I wonder if other people are like this? I wonder if people-pleasing is a disease? I wonder if others suffer from it as I do? I wonder a lot about these things. I wonder if it’s curable? I wonder if it’s a plague or a gift? I wonder if it’s possible to live in the Now if I’m constantly caring for others? I wonder what it will take to truly put myself and my needs first? I wonder if hearing my son’s insight is the moment that I need to wake up?

I wonder, what is your moment? When will you wake up and take care of yourself first? I’ll be (less) anxiously awaiting to hear from you guys 😉

Take care, be well, do something for yourself today. Slow down — the world will be here when you get back.

 

xo,

Ki

 

Photo: @redxluckyxcharms

Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset

 

 

 

 

 

The ‘little’ things

Sometimes you ask for a snack before bedtime. I know what you’re doing, and for whatever reason, I give in, let you eat whatever I’m not too tired to throw together. Your belly has impeccable timing, you know that? It always knows exactly when I’ve retired for the night, hung up my apron of motherly duties, and just about closed up shop. At that precise moment, it alerts you to be my final customer. I bet you don’t know why I do it, do you?

I know you’re not hungry, I know you won’t eat it, whatever it may be, but somehow I’m flattered that your little belly ‘wants me to feed it’ one last time. This is an invitation no momma can refuse. To steal ten extra minutes from the day in which no one else gets you, but me?! I’m sold. And you know what? I’m really not mad when you don’t eat the bedtime snack, I just pretend to be disappointed because that’s what parents do.

I’m quite fond of the sound your little feet make when you prance down the stairs one last time. I melt at first sight of the extra twinkle in your eye when you lay on the charm and ask for the snack we both know you won’t eat. You may think you’ve won extra minutes past your bedtime, but the real winner of this little game we play is me. Only I can recount these memories no one else shares but us. The sound of your singing and giggling as I smear jelly atop warm toast and dance to a made-up jingle we’ve composed together. The shake of your rump as you incessantly demand, “Watch this Mommy, watch this!!” The way my belly flutters after you’ve nibbled your snack and whispered, “You’re the best nest, Momma.” Or a personal favorite of mine, “Hey babe, I love you.”

These moments we share remind me what living feels like. It is you who taught me how to laugh with my belly until I’m blue in the face. It is you and your rock-out moves who taught me how to dance to the rhythm of my own silent, and possibly insane, drum. And truthfully, I can’t begin to thank you enough. I just can’t tell you these things now because then you would know how much I look forward to your ‘bedtime snack plea’ and the silliness that ensues. I can’t tell you all of my secrets now, can I?!

I’ll just keep on pretending to hear that little growl in your belly as we giggle and sing in the kitchen together, dancing past your bedtime…

….because that’s what momma’s do, and oh how truly grateful I am to be yours.

———————————————–

Every moment is precious, and with gratitude in my heart, ‘the little things’ are no longer little — but rather monumental occasions in which my heart is wide open and ready to receive what is happening right now. Ready to receive, and ultimately softened.

Be open to everything as it is right now. This moment you are in is truly perfect.

Allow yourself to see it as such. This is where living begins.

My every day

Forget the cake

And the flowers

Forget the cards

None of that matters

It’s you that makes this day so special to me

beach

I feel it in the warmth of our morning snuggles

And your eagerness in waking with the sun

It’s the moment you say I’m ‘beautiful and pretty’

Conveniently when you want something sweet to eat

It’s your honesty in telling me I have a terrible singing voice

It’s your obsessive, compulsive habits like your dad **cough, and me**

It’s our secret missions

And the lessons you teach

The inside jokes

And the subtle looks we give each other from time to time,

Our unspoken language

It’s our silent walks

trees

And afternoon talks

It’s the way you laugh when I speak in funny accents

It’s the shape your eyes make when I tell you I have a surprise for you

It’s the way your little hand fits perfectly inside of mine

It’s the shrill in your voice when I agree to read Chicka Chicka Boom Boom

One last time

It’s our spontaneous dance parties to music daddy hates!

It’s the late nights

And early mornings

It’s the sound of you snoring

sleeps

And the smell of your snuggly head when you first open your eyes

It’s in your “Please and fank yous”

It’s the way you talk yourself through tough situations

And your personal mantra, “I’m breathing,” when you’re scared

I hear it in your giggles when daddy makes you laugh

And in the songs you sing when the radio is on

It’s in the tears we both shed, and wipe for the other

And your concerns as to why Mommy is sad sometimes

It’s your courage

courage

And your strength

It’s the shape of your little hips

And your almond eyes, like mine

It’s in your incessant questions

And curious mind

It’s the sound of your laughter when I pinch just above your knee

It’s the way my heart feels funny when you leave

And the way I feel in this moment,

Holding back my tears.

It’s the comfort in knowing that parenting you is the greatest privilege I’ll ever have

And my greatest accomplishment as a human being

It’s the pride I feel in beginning our story at age 19

mommy and lucaman

And continuing on a path of happiness, health, and unconditional love with you by my side

And Lucas, it’s all of you that makes all of this day and every day

So special.

 

Mother’s Day is my every day

And for that, I am grateful.

I love you thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much,

Big hugs to you, my little man.

black and white

 

 

Thaw

I trace every face

In search of your love.

I wonder if you do the same…

Like a lost child in search of her mother,

I am.

The weight of that simile

Suffocates me.

Be love, and I’ll show myself to you.

Resilience, live me

Until then.

 

My body is cold from this horrendous winter. I was told to wait patiently and sure enough, spring will show herself again. So ‘they’ said.

I waited, and here she is. Her warmth now mending the aching bones I carry. Like my body, my heart grows cold from relationships strained, and I build walls around it for protection. Yet just as seasons change and frozen lakes thaw, my heart grows warm as I lower these walls and open myself, once again, to those I love most.

I encourage you to do the same.

Cycles, seasons, all things impermanent. Be love, and forgive. Resilience is a beautiful color on you.

 

With love and light,

Ki

sun