7-year Reset

rings“Seven-year itch” what does that even mean?

“The sevenyear itch is a psychological term that suggests that happiness in a relationship declines after around year seven of a marriage. The phrase originated as a name for irritating and contagious skin complaints of a long duration.” – literally what I got when I googled it. 

Getting married when I did came off as crazy since we were so young. But he was my soulmate. My one and only since I was 12 years old. We had several years in between where I had a few boyfriends and lots of mistakes but this boy waited for me. Me. Like I was someone special. We have the fairy tale story. Anyone who knows us will attest to that. We are soulmates. In the truest sense of the word. Does that mean this is easy? Fuck no. Not even a little bit. Does that mean it’s more worth it. Fuck yes. All the way.

Our eighth anniversary is next month.

To say this has been the hardest year is like putting butterflies and rainbows all over a Lifetime movie. There were a few times this year where my soulmate and I looked each other in the eyes and didn’t know where to go next. Leave? Stay? Walk out the door? Fight? Snuggle the shit out of each other? I’ll let you take a wild guess what we did.

Neither of us had any affairs, neither of us “wandered” or committed any unforgivable offense. It was just hard. So fucking hard.

There have been more “I’m sorry”‘s out of my mouth this year than ever in my entire life.

What now? Do I keep apologizing? Do I keep fighting?

Y E S.

We hit this moment in the fight where I realize we are having the same fight we have had for seven years and I want to bail. My mind is telling me this is all bullshit and he will never listen to me. My heart tells me something different. I have finally begun listening to my heart. It tells me that no matter what, I will take it. If he wants to fight then lets fight! Tell me how I hurt you. Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me all the mistakes I have made in the past seven years. I will lay down and welcome it. He could be wrong. He could be so wrong that every single person in my life will tell me to leave him. But I love him. I love this man with every fiber of my being and that means that I will hurt for him. I will sacrifice for him. I will cry for him. I will die for him. After I finally figured this out, it hasn’t been streets of gold but it’s been so much easier. Easy for me to fight. Easy for me to chose him every day I wake up tired from the kids staying up late the night before. Easy for me to listen to him venting and hurting just so I can tell him I understand and he’s not alone. I love this man so much that I will hurt for him. No matter the cost. He will not take advantage of me. He will only ever protect me and love me unconditionally for the rest of his life. This man fights for me every day even when I don’t see it. That doesn’t stop him, though. He keeps fighting until his eyes are swollen and his knuckles are bleeding. Because I am his soulmate. I am his one and only. The girl he waited for. The girl he has been in love with since he was twelve years old. That’s the kind of man I married.

Seven year itch has turned into the seven year reset.

Tomorrow my husband is going to take me on another first date. Coffee. No talk of kids or bills. Just us, getting to know each other. Like it’s the first time. A reset. A new beginning. I want to get to know the man I am married to. We were married so young, the man I married eight years ago is not the man I am married to today – this is not a bad thing, just a new thing.

So, here’s to our first date. I can’t wait to meet the man I married.
***edited to say that our second first date was definitely better than real first date. I am hopeful and excited for our future as a couple. I never doubted we could get through anything. 

Happy Mother’s Day, queens

To the tired ones, the stretched ones, the broke ones, the ones who have little ones in heaven, the ones who do it completely alone, the ones who do it with the village they have been given. For the times the calendar was too full to catch a breath, the times the milk is spilled on a freshly cleaned carpet, the times you have to google the answer to the homework. The late nights, the early mornings, the bills, the baths, the boo-boo’s, the graduation ceremonies for literally every grade they pass… We are mothers. We are nurses. We are maids. We are taxi drivers. We are warriors. 

I hope that no matter where you are in your journey of motherhood that you know you are deeply loved. You are appreciated. You are needed. 

I hope you get a moment of peace and rest today, even if it’s just one moment, don’t let it pass by unnoticed. 

Happy Mother’s Day, momma. You are the champion of all champions ­č嬭čĆ╝

I’m not good enough

IMG_8163

Stay at home momming is the hardest thing I have ever done. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it.

My whole life I assumed ┬áthat I would be a stay at home mom and raise all the perfect babies and have the perfectly clean house. Why in hell did I think that? Who told me that? That certainly wasn’t how I grew up.

They make it look so easy. Commercials, billboards, mommy bloggers with all the know hows, beautiful friends with their beautiful babies posed beautifully on their couch not covered in cheerios with their 5 month sticker on their onsie…

I don’t do that. I have two kids, 5 and almost 2. I’m lucky if I survive a whole week.

There is no secret formula. There is no one answer.

If only I get up every morning at 6:00

If only I make the bed first thing

If only I make this chore chart 

If only I work out everyday

It’s just not that simple or easy. It’s lonely, it’shard, it’s exhausting.

Making sure the five-year-old can spell her name and knows her birthday, following the two-year-old around the house while she messes up literally EVERYTHING you just cleaned… it never ends.

I’m not good enough. I never will be. I can’t do it all. Not today. I can’t make everyone happy and still have time for myself.

So what? What is the answer?

Knowing that it won’t ever be good enough… by your own standards.

My kids have no idea. They just know that they’re fed and happy. They have no idea that I am up at 6:00 just so I can write uninterrupted. They have no idea that I feel like I have failed them. They’re just content. They know they are loved. They are so loved. So loved that everyday I get up and do it over and over again. So loved that I hide my insecurities from them and read them that extra bed time story even though I am so tired I can’t see straight. So loved that I will spend my last penny on whatever they need and make sure they don’t see my struggle. They have a great life. Not just one, but two parents who love them unconditionally… which unfortunately isn’t the ┬ácase for so many children.

Sometimes I even let her pass out on my bed in her ballet outfit and let her ruin the sheets while she’s working on her “science book”. That’s what she knows. That’s what she will remember.IMG_8162

You are good enough, momma. Stop comparing yourself to the friend with the perfect instagram filter… she doesn’t have her shit together, either. I promise you. There is no one answer, believe me if I knew it I would do it and tell you over and over again. Just be okay with being okay. Forgive yourself everyday and just continue to love the mess out of those crazy life-draining babies. They’re worth it. And so are you.

 

Hello, I am the world’s okayest mom

Being okay is completely underrated. Why are we always trying to achieve perfection? Perfection is impossible and even if you do eventually achieve it, it’s a huge disappointment.

Guess what.

My house is almost always messy. I take care of the basics, like the kitchen, the yuckyness… but laundry?? Oh man… laundry is always around. There are piles of dirty clothes in every room and piles of clean clothes in the living room. Piles of folded clothes on the coffee table and on top of dressers, piles of laid out shirts draped over the couch waiting for the closet… forget about it. My poor husband. Our mornings usually go as follows:

Him – hey babe… wake up. I can’t find any clothes.

Her – huh? whaaaat?

Him – where can I find pants?

Her – folded on the coffee table… or wait… the dryer. Yea, the dryer.

….five minutes pass…

Him – babe, where are socks?

Her – ummmm….. yea good luck with that.

Being a mom of two little ones takes up all my time. I am homeschooling the five year old and I’ll be lucky if she is counting to 15 by the end of this school year. My 18 month old is a baby genius which sounds like a good thing but ends up biting me in the ass more often than not. She is constantly testing things, like me… it’s exhausting and stressful as hell.

I live for nap time and the use of the Kindle Fire for the five year old. I look longingly forward to bed time when I can finally pop open that bottle of wine…. ok box… box of wine… and turn on a show with adults and cuss words.

Can you imagine what our mothers did before smart phones?? Thank God I have access to all my friends on a tiny device I can hold in my hands. And those mom’s who judge us for being on our phones too much…. we get it… you’re so much better than us. But if I don’t stay in contact with the people outside of my townhome filled with piles of laundry, my antidepressants will only go so far.

Can we just be okay with being okay? Can we stop striving for perfection? Our Instagram filtered pictures are killing other moms. Let’s just be OKAY for once. Just be okay with the fact that your child will eat that bug or that pile of mud… it’s good for their immune system!! Just be okay with the fact that one day our children are going to tell us they need therapy. Dip into that college savings fund and put it towards something that will actually help them.

Give yourself some grace, momma. It’s going to be okay. Being okay is okay! Take a nap! Throw some cheerios on the floor and let your kids fight for them gladiator style. Drink that glass of wine. Get on facebook and vent about it. Send me a message! I’ll level with you.

It’s going to be okay.

winemom

live love

livelove

This is an ongoing theme on my blog.

Life is hard y’all.

People are on medication so that they won’t have urges to kill themselves. Family members have stage four cancer. Friends are addicted to drugs. Neighbors have lost their homes. Children are being neglected and not loved.

We have got to be the good in the world. We have got to love every single one of these people. Even if they’re voting for Trump of even Hillary… Even if they have been “helped” so many times before, or they have been “warned” to not live the life they are living anymore. Everyone has their struggles. No one knows where that person has been. We are just supposed to love them. Jesus loved so well. Why is this the hardest lesson for us?

I have some dear friends going through some heavy, life changing events that were the direct cause of their reckless behavior. So many people in their lives are quick to judge and shake their heads in disapproval. I get it. It’s so hard watching the ones we love knowingly make the wrong decision every day. But it just does’t matter. It doesn’t matter why they are doing it or what has happened in their past to make them believe they need to do it. We are directly placed in their lives to love. Love when no one else will. Love when they are at the edge of their lives and feel like there is no reason to go on. Invite them over for a cheap meal and conversation, without an agenda to intervene. It is not my job to determine their fate or what they need.

The truth is… I am no better. We are no better. We may think we are better because we haven’t tried that drug, we only get drunk every once in a while, we haven’t slit our wrists before….. these are the most irrelevant excuses I have ever thought of. I am no better…

I suck. You suck. She sucks. He sucks.

You know what makes us great? Admitting that we suck. Getting on their level and telling them that you are no better.

Love

Love

Love

Love

It really is that simple.

There is literally no point to this post except to let the ones in my life know that I love them. Unconditionally. No matter what.

Do something today. Buy the starbucks for the stranger in front of you at the drive thru. Text a family member three simple words that are said far too infrequently. Knock on a neighbors’ door and invite them over for a cheap meal sometime.

Do something! And no, there is no hashtag. There is no instagram filter you need to use. Do it because no one is looking. Just love someone. For no likes, no reposts, no shares…. just do it.

It really is that easy.

http://www.loveinmotion.info