Confessions from a Thirty Something Momma

A few months ago a very special person ran into our lives. That's right, ran into our lives. Through an organization called  Who I Run 4 , my son Alvaro became a buddy to a runner. This buddy/ runner relationship is meant to bring encouragement to both parties involved. The buddy is usually someone who can't run for themselves- usually due to a special needs situation, a disease, or a condition which makes it a challenge for the buddies to run. The runner is usually an athlete of various levels who runs on behalf of the buddy. This running gives them a renewed sense of purpose and motivation behind their training, races, and exercises. So the last day of October in 2013, Alvaro was matched with Heather. She was bound for a half marathon with her sister Melanie, a couple of weeks after the match. Melanie was on the waiting list to be matched, so she also lovingly ran on behalf of Alvaro. What a blessing these ladies have been in our lives. They truly have become good fr

How does life go on when life doesn't go on? These are the words that have been whirring in my brain for the past couple of days. Friends of mine have lost a child. Several weeks into their pregnancy, they were forced to say goodbye to a life that had yet to fully live. Aside from the heavy heart and hurt of seeing friends in pain, I am reminded weekly, sometimes daily of the loss incurred by so many. A spouse is taken too quickly by fate. A child lost to disease. A baby who could no longer fight a terminal battle got its wings. So many broken hearts. So much sadness. I cannot fathom the despair some may feel in their darkest moments. How does life go on when life doesn't go on? When I ask that question- I hear an answer echo: It just does. Because it has to. I suppose its how our lives continue that make the biggest impact and difference. We cannot keep the memory of our loved ones alive, if we wither into despondency. We can not carry on a legacy, if we chose not

I had always striven to be a kind person.  When I was growing up, I was terribly teased. Part of why I was teased was for wearing glasses. Apparently I hadn't known that tinting the lenses blue to match my blue frames was not the wisest move for a girl in middle school. Ouch! I can still hear the unkind remarks. I was also teased for being clumsy. A stage that I never seem to have outgrown. (Which I realized yet again when I broke a jar of balsamic vinegar in my pantry a couple of days ago).  In all cases, I have known what rejection feels like for many reasons: not being cool enough, not saying the right things, or wearing the right clothes, or having the "right body type."  After experiencing all this teasing in school, I have striven to be accepting and encouraging of all types of people. No matter what they look like. No matter how they act. (That doesn't mean some people don't get on my nerves or that I have always risen to the occasion. Just being r

A   ca tch - 22  is a paradoxical situation from which an individual cannot escape because of contradictory rules. I find that being a parent of a preschooler, or two even, would fall into the category of a Catch 22 and here's why: I live with the dilemma of trying to enjoy every precious moment with my children while they are small. I am also living with the dilemma of trying to survive some of the difficulties of this stage and holding on to my sanity until this phase is over. I recently read a blog entitled  " Are You Wishing Away What Someone Else Is Missing? "  I read this blog, with big wet tears rolling down my eyes. I related to the woman with the two young children and all the discomforts she was looking forward to leaving behind. I cried because I didn't want to wish away the precious time I have with my boys. That being said- there are many things I won't be sad will be over. That's why I said that parenting my preschoolers is a catch 22. 

It's no secret that I find staying at home with my kids a bigger task that I expected. I have been on both sides of the coin, having worked outside the home, and now staying home with my kids. Both have different challenges.  This blog post however isn't to compare the two. Or even to gripe about  how tired I am or how batty I get staying at home.  I've been thinking lately about all the blessings and perks that come with staying home with my kids. While I may feel like some days are endless and I rarely, if ever, get " a day off"... there are so many joys I am stumbling into.  I get to roll out of bed at 8 am.  All my previous working years, I was up at 5.45 or 6 am. That usually led into the big morning rush. Breakfast, diaper bags, food bags, lunches, and if I was lucky, a cup of coffee to drink on my way to work. These days, I get to roll out of bed at 8 am. Sometimes 8.30am. I shuffle to the boy's rooms. I get them bottles, diaper changes, and break

I know little of the dry docking process for large ships. But the little I do know, is that the ship is taken out of the water and put on dry land. This  enables work to be performed on the exterior part of the ship below the waterline, which cannot happen while its in water for obvious reasons.  In my blog post entitled Cleaning Up , I confessed to coping with difficulties in my life with food. Junk food, alcohol, sweets, and such were the tools I used to escape my feelings at the end of long and tiring days. Recognizing the unhealthy patterns and seeing the results of it through different aspects of my life, I knew it was time for change.   As so change has begun. It's probably too soon to share the results of these changes other than my initial observations.  Physically, I feel "lighter." My running is better and faster. I don't feel as greasy and bogged down. I don't feel as icky. And some digestive problems I had suffered with seem to be dissipating.