We Have This Hope

Screenshot 2014-10-20 13.19.43 Last week I was hired to write for mom.me. I’m really, really excited to be a part of their group; they have some of my very favorite people with them.

I’ll be writing with their Parenting section, similar to what I write with Babble but with more of an edge for snark/humor at times. So while I try to avoid anything super confrontational on here, it may be that you read my writing there and get a bit bristly at times. That’s ok! We can still love each other with prickles. ;) It’s simply a different direction to my writing and voice, and it helps me to branch out.

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Pondering Fulfillment

Life is a funny thing. I often wonder if anyone ever feels the way I do about it – that this isn’t at all what I expected it to be. Not all bad – just so different. Will it all come together at some point in an “AHA!” moment? Will I ever see the purpose behind this pain – enough of a purpose that I can use it to propel forward? Or will it just be a series of little moments that never really string together? I think of all the things I’d love to do…

I want to write a book. I’ve wanted to on and off for a while, but these past few months – well, probably since Kaden died – I’ve felt this urge to write one.

I know what it’ll be about.

I know the title.

I have the chapters in my head.

I’ve read about traditional publishing and self publishing and even contacted a company that helps self publish.

Then I sit down and become paralyzed by writing a whole book. (And yes, even breaking it into chapters is still overwhelming because it’s chapters of a whole book lol.) I over think it – where do I begin? Do I plan out the book in those idea bubbles? Research? Just start writing?

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#Blessed Weakness

#Blessed Weakness

I see the #blessed hashtag everywhere. If I’m really honest, it makes me incredibly angry most of the time. It’s used for (what I consider) trite, stupid things.

Is that my call to make? No. But that’s how it feels right now.

I’m using Cynthia Heald’s Becoming a Woman of Strength (afflink) with my  mom in our one on one Bible study. This week we talked about strength in our weakness, specifically God’s strength.

Lately I feel very on edge about doing things the right way. We’ve had some really bad weeks, with more to come as a consequence of them, and my inner control freak kicks in at these moments to keep everything I can in line.

  • Clean the house.
  • Vacuum like there’s no tomorrow.
  • Organize.
  • Schedule.
  • Plan.
  • Then fall apart.

The other night I sat on the couch and sobbed to Sam about what a disaster our life is. Again. And really – it is. I wish I could be more specific (it’s preventing me from writing more on here because I have so many “can’t be told’s”) but we are waiting to see the outcome of some of this before I make it public.

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Impatient Outsider

I’m sitting here with a hot cup of coffee (cream only, hotter the better) thinking about how it’s been a week since I’ve written on here. I’m not sure why.

I feel left out of everything lately. Life in general. I’m the oddball out almost everywhere I go. I enrolled Bella in gymnastics last month, and two moms with babies sat and chatted about breastfeeding/formula/clothes/nights/etc the whole time. It was so hard to hear, then on top of it little baby whimpers that sent me straight back to Children’s with Kaden. I had to get up and leave the room a few times (Bella was in another room completely).

The last day of it, I chose to sit a little ways away from them and could hear them whisper softly about how I thought I was better than them or something. It hurt so much. I wanted to unload my story on them both, watch their faces as they struggled to find something to say to me then. But I didn’t. I ignored them and their living babies and took Bella home at the end.

We start Girl Scouts next week. I was talking with the lead mom yesterday about it by phone, and she said, “The parents all stick around during the meetings, they’ve become such good friends.”

Great, was all I could think. I wonder when I’ll have to explain why I can’t hold their baby without crying while they dash to the restroom or that Bella isn’t my only child.

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The Day Before

Today has been a really terrible day so far.

And it’s only noon here as I write this.

I expected tomorrow to be. The day Kaden died. Really though, I find myself dreading birthdays more than – death days? What on earth do we call these days? Anniversary seems to give it the air of something celebrated. Birthdays are hard – and as my wise friend Emily told me, “It’s because that’s a day when you’re supposed to be happy, but you can’t be.”

Tomorrow is a day I’m supposed to be sad.

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