Just a Minute

Oh, hey! It's been a minute, I suppose.

Life is busier than ever, and yet, I often still find the itch to write. I have files upon files floating around on my computer of documents consisting of nothing more than rambling words, unedited and unseen stories that maybe one day I'll share with the world.

Maybe.

The last couple years have been amongst some of the hardest of my life, which is saying something, really.

Losing my grandmother wrecked me. Nearly losing my husband destroyed me. Taking over a business exhausted me.

How I did all three at the exact same time is still mind-boggling to me. Throw in my car breaking down numerous times in the middle of winter hours from home, managing our son and his schedule when he's missing days and weeks of school, my husband's nearly year recovery, our home and animals, our employees, my grandmother's estate and funeral and just LIFE in general - yeah, mind boggling is the only way I can describe it.

BUT

I did it. I might be a little super-human, honestly. But I did it. And I did it alone.

No one showed up for me. No one. I guess that's a little eye opening, isn't it?

I will never doubt my self-worth again. I will never find myself shoved into a box that I barely fit into in order to take up less space in whatever room I may be in. I will never settle for less because I think I might not have earned it. Damnit, I earned it.

If my overall life has not been enough of a proof, the neglect, abuse and overall trauma that I have experienced: the fact that I have overcome SO MUCH in the last few years is enough alone.

I am so strong and competent and able. I am hard-working and can achieve anything I set my mind to. What I have to say and my opinions matter. Where I've been and the story I have to tell is important.

I have evolved and my life will reflect my evolution from this moment on.

Thirty-One

My birthday has become a point of reflection for me. Every year I seem to find the time to spend a few minutes alone looking back at the past year and pondering the one of the future.

I appreciate this time, these precious moments where I can be lost in my own thoughts. 

My thirties haven't been so bad, really. This must be the age of not giving a flying $#!@ because I find myself caring less and less about the trivial stuff every day.

I'm rediscovering and reinventing myself based on who I truly am, not who the world wants me to be, and I have loved it. I'm chasing joy, chasing home, and finding it easier to find all the time.

Will all of my thirties be this way?

I doubt it.

But I'll be damned if I don't try to make it the best it can be.

Henry's 7 Year Questionnaire

What is your name?

Henry.

How old are you?

Seven!

What is your favorite color?

I'll have to think about that.

What is your favorite food?

Umm..hmm... probably chicken croissants.

What is your favorite thing to do with Mommy?

Go for a walk at Stillwater Prairie, probably.

What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?

Either go to his work or hang out in the garage.

What is your favorite toy?

Who knows out of the THOUSANDS of them.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Definitely a vet, but only for cats.

What is your favorite book?

Who knows, there's too many of them!

What's your favorite thing in the entire world?

Doggy blanket, or maybe my new tablet.

What is your favorite TV show or movie?

Probably The Lion in My Living Room.

Who is your best friend?

Maddy.

The Itch

I cannot tell you when I fell in love with words.

Whether it be when I was a child and the familiar stories told from golden-bound books poured into my imagination, or when I was a teenager and my diaries were filled with pages of angst and anger and a longing to find love and belonging. Or now, as an adult, when words can be the place that I feel most vulnerable and powerful but also whole.

I do not know when but I do know that if ignored, that itch, that need, eventually builds and bubbles up from inside of me until it's all I can do not to find my fingers on keys or pencil on paper until the words spill like ink, spreading across the page in a sudden flow.

Is this what it means to be a writer?

Or is the internal struggle to control the tongue, to force the unspoken into existence when the mind says "QUIET!" all too loud, are these words only a form of overflow? Like lava that cannot be contained a moment more, spewing from the deep only to wreak havoc, to carve a new way. Its beauty destructive and terrifying but also necessary.

I am home here. Safe.

This is love.

Love More

When I met my husband and he asked me to marry him 6 short months after meeting, I didn't think I could love anyone more.

Two months later we walked down the aisle together and said 'I Do' and began our lives together growing together, laughing and loving through the everyday mundane together, and I really didn't think I could love anyone more.

Fast forward to a tiny heartbeat filling a room as our eyes filled with tears, the tiny fluttering on the screen a miracle all on it's own - now I was SURE I couldn't love anyone more.

That tiny heartbeat developed into a rolling, kicking extension of my body and I had never loved my OWN body more - but then it was born, and I held my son in my arms and my heart burst because I had never, ever loved anyone more.

He grew and his mommy and daddy did too. There were good times and there were bad times. There were easy times and there were hard times (really, really hard times, if we are going to be honest). Now I sit and I look at my life, surrounded by my boys, and I understand why we are not given an infinite amount of time to love. Given an eternity my heart would not be able to withstand this extraordinary love that constantly grows.

I see my son develop daily into his very own person with quirks and attitude, likes and dislikes, that are unique only to him and my heart melts. Curled up on the couch with a stuffed cat tucked into his arm, a fuzzy vest that hangs to his knees his favorite piece of clothing, his hat turned inside out, and watching a YouTube video about kid hacks and inventions - I couldn't love a boy more.

I look back at the 10 years that I've spent with my husband and sit in awe at how far we have come. We have seen heartache together. We have seen the worst of each other. We have lost all humility and have fallen vulnerable at one another's feet more than once. And while there were times I wasn't sure I loved him like I did when we met, I realized over time that the love wasn't lost, but more the patience and the understanding of humanity and all that it brings to the table. The fight was worth it because a love like this is worth it. As we grow older together, raising this boy together that we couldn't love more, I realize too that I only love him more. His quirks. His books on tape. His obsession with Tesla and Jeopardy. His cheesy jokes, constant picking, and his desires in life - I couldn't love anyone more.

Everyday, it seems, I only love more.

Bark

I've reflected a lot on my life over the years. Yesterday I ran my fingers over bark, comparing the texture from one tree to the next, and I thought: life is not much different. We all weather it differently, some of us with tough exteriors, rough skin and callouses, while others appear gentle and smooth and less...worn. There's always more than what meets the eye, and what we hold inside is always more precious than what's visible. Always.

I'm sitting sideline, trying my best not to interfere too much, as I watch my son grow and develop into this person all his own. Quirks, humor, motivation, and annoyances that he did not get from me or his father - they are unique to him alone, and I love exploring these parts of him, probing deeper into his individualism. I am broken as a mother that wishes to keep this perfect human to myself for all of my life with the knowledge that he is quickly gaining independence that steps further and further away from his parents.

I will always love him and he will always know that I do. Perhaps this is the one thing he needs to know as he evolves: that he is loved, and cherished, and always has a place to call home. As he stands against the storms of life, his bark will form. I have no control over that texture, it is all his own, but I hope I can influence what he holds precious inside.

Henry's 6 Year Questionnaire

What is your name?
Henry
How old are you?
*holds up six fingers* Six!
What is your favorite color?
Hmm...every color.
Why every color? 
I don't know, it's just too hard to choose one.
What is your favorite food?
*shakes his box of Gobstoppers* These.
But what's your favorite thing to eat, real food, not candy?
Breadsticks. Actually, no, anything that tastes like oranges. But not oranges. Can you ask me what my favorite candy is?
Sure, what is your favorite candy?
*shakes his box of Gobstoppers again* These!
What is your favorite thing to do with Mommy?
Umm...like we used to go to Stillwater Prairie a lot, so that.
So hiking and exploring?
Yeah, I love that.
What is your favorite thing to do with Daddy?
Do that blanket thing where I put his blanket in his legs and I sit in it.

What is your favorite toy?
Let me go decide. *goes upstairs for ten minutes* Okay, I've decided: ALL of my toys but some. Cause there's some toys up here that I don't really play with a lot. Like this merry-go-round, I don't really play with that because it doesn't have any horses and I don't think a merry-go-round is really a merry-go-round without any horses!   What do you want to be when you grow up?
Hmm...hmm...*looks around, thinking for a few minutes* I want to be like the Wild Kratts because did you KNOW that their job is actually what they do on TV? They look around for animals AND discover new ones. Oh, and I want to be a vet. But only a cat vet, so a vet only cats can come to. 
What is your favorite book?
You do not like this book and I'm already potty trained but I really like that Elmo bathroom potty train book. I love that one. If you ask me what my favorite thing in the entire world is, I can tell you that!
Okay, what's your favorite thing in the entire world?
Doggy blankie, and maybe you and daddy. Maybe.
What is your favorite TV show?
I'll have to search around on the TV to figure that out...or I'll just think. Every show, well not every show, just like kid shows.
Who is your best friend?
I already know that but I can probably never play with them and they might never be able to come over but Maddy...and Gabe.