how it hit me.

We could have lost you.
As I drove home today with you in the back seat, it hit me. It is hit me so hard it hurt. All of a sudden I felt it. The pain of what could have been.
I took me 4 months to finally realize how close I  came to never knowing you.
What would my life be like if I never felt the warmth of your little body, never saw your bright smiles or never got to look into your clear blue eyes?
How close we came to never meeting you.
How different it all could have been.
I feel so blessed to have had it work out the way it did. I am one of luckiest people in the world to have your sparkling eyes light up in that special way just for me. 
Tonight I am taking a moment to thank the universe for you and for our fate.
I love you Canty.

Full of abundance and feeling heavy

I was in a hurry,

walking fast and rushed.

I had just left the house in slight chaos and was feeling unbalanced.

I had Canton strapped to my chest in the Bjorn and was heading towards the library to attend a parenting workshop

I was feeling a little 'heavy' and weighed down.

The physical weight of the baby and my canvas bag filled with the necessities needed to successfully attend a two hour workshop with an infant were burying deep within the muscles of shoulders and back .

The emotional weight of the rushed night and busy day were bearing heavy on my mind.

I was feeling good but exhausted balancing on a tight-rope hoping not to fall in a pit of self defeat.

 

I didn't want to be late.

I took a shortcut.

I walked along the path of the old rail road tracks.

I walked across the bridge and looked in on the waterfront condominiums.

These homes have windows from ceiling to floor, allowing the residents to have full access to the beauty of the Mississippi.

As I unabashedly peered into these windows, drinking in the brief snap shots of the lives of others.

I interpreted my pictures into full collage of life in these homes.

 

I saw adult homes.

Beautiful art.

Clean kitchens.

Adult conversations.

Hot meals at appropriate times.

In the Dimmed lights of a living room I saw a woman sitting comfortably on the couch watching the news.

And for a brief moment, I wished that was me.

I wished I was alone on my couch watching the news.

In slience, living my adult life amongst beautiful art and drinking tea in a clean kitchen.

 

But it didn't take long for me to fall back into reality.

The slow and rythmical breathing against my own chest reminded me.

Reminded me that even with the chaos, I didn't want to be anywhere else.

 His little heart beat against mine reminded me what it felt like to not be alone.

I wanted to admire my babies paintings as great works of art.

I wanted to sing old mcdonald for the 100th time.

I wanted to eat dinner at 4:30 pm so I can make sure they get to bed early and have a good sleep.

I wanted to sit messy kitchen nursing a baby amongst princess playing cards and childrens sippy cups and enjoy my cold cup of tea.

I wanted my life.

 

The weight of my busy and choatic days may make me feel heavy,

but the weight of my babies on my soul makes me feel plentiful.

 

The weight of my life keeps me grounded.

Keeps me here.

 

Look at your own stress as the weight of the day,

the weight of your life.

Oh how that weight can bring us joy.

Allowing us to feel full of abundance and heavy.

 

“Through the blur, I wondered if I was alone or if other parents felt the same way I did - that everything involving our children was painful in some way. The emotions, whether they were joy, sorrow, love or pride, were so deep and sharp that in the end they left you raw, exposed and yes, in pain. The human heart was not designed to beat outside the human body and yet, each child represented just that - a parent's heart bared, beating forever outside its chest.”

-Debra Ginsberg

 

Much love,

Jessica

 

 

 

 

 

Stumbling down your path

As I begin my journey into motherhood , I am noticing how much 'stuff' I am reveling about my self.

Motherhood seems to pull away the blinders and make you notice all the intense emotion you have contained in your soul.

Emotions we have felt before but seem to be amplified by the role of mama.

Motherhood brings out our intense sense of grounding.

We are forging roots.

Creating a family.

We have embedded our qualities and traits into another soul.

We are teaching this new life in the only way we know how.

We teach by our own emotion and experience.

We begin to realize that with the birth of our children we are writing the beginning chapter to a incredible story.

Our sense of instinct is intensified.

We come to realize the ancient secrets of motherhood are buried deep within our psyche.

Instinctive knowledge passed on from generation to generation.

Most of us doubt our instinct until we care for our own kin.

Then we know.

We simply know that we have the strength and power as a mama to know what is best for them.

We realize our strength as women.

We realize what power is held in being called a 'mother'.

But as motherhood drapes down upon us, the power and strength that it provides for us is sometimes forgotten.

We not only realize the 'awesomness' of being someones mama, but realize the intense responsibility and stress that it can bring as well.

We have emotions and feelings that can be very hard to deal with at times.

We can get angry.

We can get frustrated.

We can lose our s**t.

We simply act out.

We can feel lost.

We can feel scared.

All of sudden we are losing our minds and can't seem to reel it back in.

When all those feeling come out in us, we begin to  feel guilty.

Ferocious and consuming guilt.

Guilt that at times can debilitate our well being.

We feel the 'mama guilt'.

Mama guilt is a strong guilt.

A feeling that can take us over.

And unfortunately we feel it too often.

For most mama's I know, we feel it everyday.

Maybe not all day, but at some point during the day we question our judgements.

We question our choices.

We question our ability to be the best mama.

All those questions lead to our guilty feelings.

 When we feel guilty we begin to be hard on ourselves.

Mean to our inner self.

Judgemental to our souls.

We can feel lost in our own sea of self doubt.

I am hear to remind us today that we are good and strong woman.

We are capable of so much.

One of the biggest problems is that we focus so much of our attention on our babies growing.

As they go from crawling to walking,

murmurs to talking.

They move from preschool to kindergarten,

high school to adult world.

We watch our babies grow and cheer them along the way.

We love their growth and their stumbles.

We know that makes them the special person they are becoming.

But we forget,

As they grow- we grow.

Changing and adapting.

Becoming a newer and improved version of ourselves.

As our babies learn to walk, they stumble and fall down.

We praise their attempt  and encourage them to try again.

We give them strength to look up and give it another go.

We admire their resiliency.

Well today I am cheering for you- my mama army.

As you fall, and you will along the way, don't be harsh.

Don't feel guilt.

Don't be mean.

Admire your own resiliencey and strength,

Get back on your feet and try again and.... 

Keep on stumbling down your own path of motherhood.

We will be stumbling along side with you! 

Much love,

Jessica

The mom army

I sometimes feel like a lone solider trudging through the weathered terrain of motherhood.

The war torn fields of abandoned toys, half eaten lunches and dirty diapers follow me wherever I turn.

 

It can get a little lonely, a little scary and a little overwhelming.

 

But this morning after a late night battle of sleep, I realized I wasn't alone.

I just had to look in the right places

 

I had to look to my Army.

My Mom army.

 

The ladies that understand.

They know all to well what it feel like to walk the deserted fields,

left in chaos after the battles fought.

Without words, they just seem to know my struggle.

They nod with understanding.

They know the look.
They have been there too.

 

They are clever and strong.

They know when to bring coffee and food.

They know when to step in with a lively distraction for a distraught child.

They know when a laugh will make it all better for that moment.

They know when to call or text you with encouraging words.

They know that even if they are fighting their own battles, a simple smile can make all the difference.

They are simply amazing.

 

 

Just knowing they are out there, just like me, brings me peace.

Knowing they are standing with me as I stand with them allows me to feel strength.

Strength in numbers.

 

My army is strong.

We can battle anything.

Sleepless nights, tantrums and meltdowns are nothing for us.

We have each other to help battle through the unknown.

We have the strength.

 

With every story told, every tear shed, every piece of advice divulged, and every insight seen, the mom army gets stronger and as do I.  

 

I am really not the lone solider.

I am part of an army.

The mom army.

 

"If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?” 
- Milton Berle

 

 

Much love,

 

Jessica

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beauty of sisterhood -for you my sisters.

 

Watching you morph it to the beautiful woman you were put here to be.

Seeing your strengths, your love, your true being emerge.

The simple power of your presence has the strength to calm my inner demons.

I cherish my time with you. I drink it in and allow it to fuel me.

 

It is like looking in a mirror.

Sometimes painful, most time joyful.

So many similarities, but still so many differences still exist, allowing us to fill in the gaps with one another.

 

I savour that I get to watch you become the mother, aunt, daughter sister and woman that you are.

 

You are vital part of me.

You give me strength.

You give me joy.

You give me love.

Thank you.

 

To my beautiful sisters,

 

Meaghan, you growth into such nurturing and strong mother is astounding. Watching you makes me so happy. You are an amazing person. My rock, My joy, my lovely sister. I love you and am so happy to be taking this journey through motherhood together.

 

Emily, my little Emmy. My lovely Emmy. No words describe how strongly I feel for you. You are kind heart with so much love to give. You can change the world with your gifts. You were put here to make a difference. I love you and miss you.

 

Amber,  Your creative genius is inspiring. I do not use the word genius lightly here. You are a genius. You are such a giving and passionate soul. I am thankful you were brought into my life. I love you Ber and look forward to seeing you soon.

 

Thank you for being there for me.

Being the best sisters and aunty's I could ask to have in our lives.

 

My beautiful sisters fill my life with such joy.

I truly don't know how I got so lucky to have such strong woman in my life.

 

 

A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double. 

~Toni Morrison

 

Much love,

 

Jessica

Letter of love

To my little ones,

 

I love to write about you.

How much I love you, your awesome hijinks's, your loving nature, your crazy adventures and my journey (smooth or rough) on how to be the best mom for you guys.

But today I want to write about something different,

just as important but different.

 

I want you to understand how it all began.

 

You are here because two people fell in love.

A young love. 

A strong love.

A love that knew in it's innocent being that it could handle anything.

 

We met when I was 15 and he was 16.

Young and naive.

We were high school sweethearts.

Through those tumultuous years, we made it through.

Two completely different personalities beat the odds of high school romance and moved on together to our next phase.

 

We went to collage.

Got our first 'real' jobs

We got our first place.

Bought furniture and nested.

We got a pet.

We did all the things young adults do to find ourselves.

Our new 'adult' selves.

 

We grew.

And somehow we kept growing together.

 

It wasn't always easy.

And it wasn't always fun.

But we stayed by each others side.

Through it all, we stood strong together.

 

Your daddy and I grew strong together.

 

Your Daddy is a great man.

He is kind and thoughtful.

He is strong.

He is smart in ways he doesn't even realize.

 

He is fun.

Always looking for the joke.

The reason to laugh.

The reason to make that moment one to remember.

 

He teaches me everyday how to be a better person.

How to yell less and laugh more.

How to be get more from life by simply seeing the 'funny' in every moment.

How to take myself less seriously.

 

I have had the great privilege of watching a boy grow into a man and a man grow into a father.

And what an amazing father and man he has become.

 

He loves you whole heatedly.

He holds nothing back.

He plays and laughs, teaches and calms.

He is an amazing daddy.

 

I want you three to understand someday that you came from love.

A strong love between two people.

This love has changed and morphed through the years, but it's foundation of strength and resiliency has stayed strong.

It has now become embedded in you.

You have a love in you that is strong.

That can conquer all.

 

 

 

"I know that you are not perfect and nor can I claim to be either, but please believe me, when I say that I want to be by your side, to hold your hand, to treasure you in the morning and in the noon-tide, to be next to you, to be held close to your heart now and for the rest of my living years, to comfort you, dry your tears and calm your most frightening fears, to fight your battles and show no shame to scream my love for you out loud all over the land."

 

Much love,

 

Your mommy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

my heaven

I have always loved mornings.

I am a 'morning person' shall we say.

I love being the first up, planning my day and getting organized.

 

Before kids, on days which I had no obligations (that line actually made me laugh out loud. I can't really remember what it feels like to have no obligations.) one of my favorite things to do was wake up before Court, Watch old romantic movies, read my book and curl up on the couch. I could spend a whole day like that.

 

I thought that was heaven.

 

My perspective has changed.

 

Heaven now is waking up before my littles.

I love the way it feels to prepare the house for their immanent wake up.

 

I love to hear their soft sweet voices over the monitor and outside their door. Playing make believe with their special stuffies and comforting each other with words.

 

I love to hear the murmurs of an infant slowly waking up braving the big new day. Taking notice to the fact that he feel slightly empty, like he is missing a piece and he needs to find it.

 

I love the joy in their voice as I walk in the room. Each day it being the same, but as if they never expected me. The pure and honest expression of contentment to see me.
 

 

I love the look they cast upon me as I pick them up and they realize in that moment they have found me. The one who can provide them with your missing pieces and substance to fill you up in that moment.

I love how when I unswadled him from the tight warm cacoon, he stretches his legs out and arms up as if to say  'here I am day, I am ready to conquer you' 

 

I love their smiles.

Wide toothless grin with a face that cannot not hid true feelings.
 A honest face.
Staring up at me right before he drinks away to fill your belly with nectar made just for him.

I love cute little pink lips curled up, looking so much like their daddy's smile, searching for a new face to join the sea of happiness.

 

I love how we discuss our day, I tell you are plans and you tell me what you think.
I love how you weave together our new adventure for the day.

 

My three angels fill my life with so many new 'loves'.

 

I realize now what my heaven looks like.

 

Much love,

 

Jessica