2025

August 29, 2025Leave a comment

2024 flew on by and I never posted. 2025 is more than halfway gone, and my fingers have finally started to itch for the keys. I have wanted to write so much this year, but it hasn’t ranked high enough on the list for it to get done. I’m rusty.

2024 was a tough year. From summer on, we struggled with keeping the kids healthy. Nate had Salmonella, broken bones ( each kid took a turn wearing a cast!), endless colds, severe stomachaches that debilitated my daughter for almost a year, as we searched tirelessly for the source. There were so many late nights where Eric and I found ourselves trying to motivate one another to get through one more day. In hindsight, I can see how God was faithful, aligning different people in our paths for guidance, but gosh was it difficult.

Walking in faith seems easy when everything is moving along, yet so out of reach when you’re in the thick of it. I wonder how our Father sees everything from his perspective, encouraging us, whispering gently, never overbearing, allowing us the freedom to choose. Excited that he knows what is in store at the end, empathetic as we navigate life, hoping we hold space long enough to hear him and rest on his promises.

As 2025 started, we confessed health over all of us, God’s goodness and favor. We prayed that we would slow down, and really take in the time we have with one another. I am happy to report, we have only had one fracture this year, ok, maybe 2 as we wait to hear whether or not Nate’s nose is broken from a head collision during a soccer tournament. He says it was worth the championship!

I am thankful for the slowdown we have been able to embrace this summer ☀️ I am working on building character, setting my foundation on Him, for He is my family’s rock on which we choose to stand, come what may.

When Your Heart Skips a Beat

September 9, 2016September 9, 2016Leave a comment

When you love so deeply you share your boba

Yesterday was Nathan’s school orientation. He is officially starting Pre-School on Monday. My day was full of anxiety and I could not figure out what it was. All I knew was that I didn’t want to go to orientation. My eyes teared up about everything and I couldn’t keep myself from crying. But why? I had such a perfect day with the kids. We enjoyed our library filled morning, followed by Farmer’s Market shenanigans. And our ultimate favorite- boba drinking with some dancing. We napped snuggled up together and the kids ate dinner without any massive toddler breakdowns. And as the time approached for me to go- it happened. The big question kept atacking me and I answered it a thousand times. Over and over and each time the answer was different. And sometimes I couldn’t get through the answer.

The question is always the same. My answer- it always wavers.

How many children do you have? how many siblings does your child attending the school have? How many other children attend the school? …and then the hard part. What do I say? Do I say the truth? A version of the truth? People will feel bad. People will be uncomfortable.

And this is just the beginning of the questions and turmoil that goes on in my heart. It is not enough that I lost my daughter and that when most families go back to school with every child they have birthed, I am missing one. So instead of going back to school with three, I go back with two. The hole is left open. The waves come a little quicker. The scab begins to peel.

It’s always such a struggle with my heart, not because I am scared of the possible reactions but because I remember early on how much I always felt like I betrayed her with every answer. No answer was ever good enough. Every answer left me feeling unfulfilled. But after the meeting yesterday, I decided that no answer will ever be the right answer because what happened was wrong. My little family, we try our best every day to experience joy, after all, Eric and I have been blessed with two amazing children. But our lives will never be the same.

I will proabably have anxiety about backto school nights for the rest of my life. And I can live with that. Grief is not a step to get through. It is something that a parent without their child will always experience. Sometimes it hurts so bad you can feel it in your bones, and other times it presents itself gently; leaving love and smiles behind. So as I walk in this coming Monday, with my first born’s hand nicely intertwined in mine, I will squeeze harder when tears want to flow down and love this moment for what it is because even though I don’t get to walk Emme into her class and have her run after me in fear that I will leave, I am blessed to do it with Nate and Elea.

When Nothing Seems to go Right

September 2, 2016September 2, 20162 Comments

The week began with an overwhelming Monday. I wish it would have been a broken cookie causing all the crying but this time it was Elea falling down some stairs. I was horrified and disappointed that (although I saw it happen and ran to try to catch her), I was unable to. I felt horrible. A bad mother. Yup. I even thought I was a bad mother. I don’t think it hurt that bad, but her look said it all: where were you, mama? I pull myself together and go grocery shopping (only because we won’t have anything to eat if I don’t), only to realize my wallet was left at home.

Exhale.

Inhale.

My face must have said it all (it took everything I had to hold back the tears), because the cashier very gently said it happened to everyone. Maybe. Probably. But it didn’t matter. I was falling apart and it was only 10 in the morning.

The week continued with regular toddler and baby meltdowns, not enough of me to go around, limited showers, late work nights for papa and a very tired mama. I then told Eric, this CEO was coming close to turning in her two week notice. I was nearing my breaking point. I was contemplating stepping down from this gynormous-whopping-biggest BUT most rewarding job in the world. I sat at the table while the babes napped on Wednesday and I cried because I can’t. I can’t leave this job that is so ‘abusive’ because it is my favorite job. It is not a job, it is the only thing I am honestly passionate about; motherhood. I love a lot of things but I am not passionate about any of them as much as I am about my children and husband.

On Thursday, Nate very calmly told me that he needed more attention from his mama. He wanted to have my undivided attention without it being shared, even it if was just for a little while. So as I walked to the car with yogurt in my hair, a baby crying to be released from her mamas arms, a little toddler sobbing because his sister squirted his yogurt, managed to lose his Walker’s (AT-ST: Star Wars) weapon, I, again, almost lost it. And as I was walking towards our house, a sweet older lady complimented the kids and proceeded to say “Honey, you having a good day?”, I responded, “it could be better” and she said, “oh, but everyday is a great day honey.” I smiled and walked on. Not until later when the kids were in bed and I snuggled with a blanket and a good book, did I realize the heaviness of her words. The truth.

I know what it is to have bad days. I know what it is to have your world come to an end and struggle to breathe. So even on my worst days, they are the best. But I am also well aware that I am a human being. Hard days, hard weeks, they will happen. Mommy breakdowns are completely normal. Having moments of throwing in the towel are going to happen. I get to do what I love every day. I get to start my day singing our good morning song and I get to end it singing their favorite songs.

The week ended with warmth, love and Nate and I looking through Elea and Emme’s photo albums. Our hearts were full.

Xoxo

P.s. This Monday was a great start to the week but the day ended with me almost burning down the house. The pan was ruined ( my favorite go-to) and dinner was a bust. But after we aired out the house, we all had a laugh about it. It could have been worst but I’ll take a burned dinner any Monday of the year 🙂

An Open Letter To My Ever Growing Baby

June 4, 2016June 7, 2016Leave a comment

Nathan meets Mama

I remember the day you were ready to meet me. I remember the joy I felt knowing I would soon hold you in my arms. At 4:30 pm you were placed on my chest for the first time. You moved towards my breast and suckled on the colostrum my body had so diligently prepared for you. My body nourished you for 45 minutes and here I was, head over heels about you, with no clue on how to care for you. Sure, I had attended every baby prep class there was: how to care for your newborn, breastfeeding for the first time mother, bathing your baby…you name it, I took it or read all about it because that is what I do. I read way too much, sometimes to my detriment.

Nathan turns 1 month

We experienced all our firsts together. We rolled for the first time, crawled, walked, broke our first tooth, took our first flight as mommy and baby. We have done everything together for the past 47 months. We have cried ourselves to sleep and been each other’s everything. But as you near your fourth birthday, things are beginning to change, and my mama bear heart is hurting just a little bit, and unfortunately, papa is paying for it.

Nathan, 23 months

You see, you are becoming a little boy and as happy as that makes me, I am saddened (and very proud!) when you say, “mama, I want to do it”, “I can do it!”, “don’t help me!”… followed by 15 minutes of non-stop crying as you struggle ( but are so determined) to take your own shirt off, get the one piece of noodle left with a fork or buckle yourself in your new big boy car seat.

Nathan, 3 1/2

You are doing everything right. The countless mornings and afternoons we have spent learning about being kind, loving, independent, a God-fearing little boy have paid off. You are becoming just that, but I long for the little Nene that was barely able to say much more than mama and shark.

Nathan, 10 months

I remember when you walked for the first time. You giggled the entire time you walked towards me. I can look through every single picture of you and tell you what we did that day and whether or not you were recovering from a cold, didn’t feel like yourself or needed a couple extra cuddles before nap.

Nathan, 2 years

I can recall the naps we took together every day, sometimes waking up right before papa got home from work and we would pretend we had been awake longer just so papa wouldn’t feel left out. We spent the first two years of your life playing at the beach, walking up and down the strand. You learned to ride your bike and scooter there.

Nathan, 3 1/2

There is no memory too small of you that my brain hasn’t managed to file in your life binder, even though I can’t even manage to remember if I had breakfast this morning.

Nathan, 3 1/2

Lately I have been a little harder on you than usual, I have let you try to figure things out on your own where as before, I would have skipped and jumped to be at your side. I have taken things away from you to give to others and watch you cry in disappointment. But I can assure you, I don’t love you any less. If anything, I love you more. I am simply working really hard at ensuring that I am building a strong foundation for you.

Nathan, 2 months shy of 4

I am trying to raise a loving boy who understands compassion, grace, patience, unconditional love, is respectful of others and feels remorse when making bad decisions. Everything we worked so hard for is coming to fruition and as happy as it makes me, the past 47 months have gone by a little too quickly.

Mama & Nathan, 3 1/2

I can’t promise we won’t shed any more tears, or have meltdowns because I don’t understand, but I can promise you I will always be by your side, rooting you on, because I will always be your number one fan.

Love,

Mama Bear

On the Eve of Mother’s Day

May 7, 2016May 8, 2016Leave a comment

As mother day approaches, I sit here on this Friday night in Elea’s nursery, pitch black, ocean sounds blasting, and a little giant baby snuggled on my chest, holding on to my shirt as tightly as can be. I rock us both with my right toes, my left leg folded under my right leg for left hand support, as my hands hold onto a tiny bright screen that sheds just the right amount of light onto my babes face. And my thumbs go crazy, as they so carefully type this post, making sure to touch the right letter.

This has been a crazy week. We wrapped up Elea’s first birthday celebration on Sunday and had family staying with us from Dallas. I woke up feeling kinda sick so I had to make sure to give myself a break. Wednesday came along and I was starting to feel better, when Elea and Nate slid down the jungle gym slide and Elea tweaks her foot. She refuses to walk or crawl and seems to be in pain. Long story short, her foot is bruised but no broken bones. We are safe. I sat Wednesday night crying my eyes out, angry that I wasn’t able to prevent her from getting hurt. I thought for sure it was broken. My prayer chain worked.

Onto Thursday, my book club meets and we have an amazing meeting with even more amazing women. I go to bed feeling great with a full heart.

Friday morning hits me hard. Elea is up every couple hours. I resign and bring her into bed hopping she’ll nurse when needed and let me sleep. 5:50am comes around and she is wide awake. Play time comes around too soon. BUT her foot seems better so I am grateful.

We get ready for tea time with Nathan, and while he is helping me get the baby ready, in frustration that he can’t help me carry in the diaper box he says *uck.

Yes.

* u c k. The F bomb. The worst. I am completely taken aback, especially because he used it in the correct context. Where? What? How? We never. No one around him ever…a million thoughts cross my mind while I accidentally smear poop on my hand and Elea is giggling up a storm. I quickly snap back in and begin to ask questions. What did he say? Can he repeat what he said? Did he mean to say fudge? Maybe fun? Forge? Anything other than what I thought I heard?! Please. But he is pretty adamant, he assures me, that what he meant was *uck. Ok, so I continue with my questions and the story is more or less the same.

So, naturally, being that I have a marriage and family therapist on retainer (she’s my sister and she accepts my children’s love as payment), I text my sister. After discussing the whole scenario the following hits hard:

“You can’t really control what Nathan will hear, you’ll protect him as much as possible… I’m so glad that you have a great relationship with him where he’ll tell you exactly what happened. That’s what’s worth protecting and making sure it stays strong.”

I can’t and will not be able to protect Nathan from everything, possibly not many things at all BUT I can equip him with the right foundation with our Father at the center, so that he can find comfort in sharing and asking for guidance from a loved one. It takes a village to raise babies, and I can only continue to strive to teach my children about grace, love and faith. I can continue to try and surround him with people who love him and will be there when he reaches out, but mostly people from whom he will see what he should be like.

We finished the week with a yummy Indian dinner ( at Nathan’s request) and very much enjoyed each other’s company. The family sitting next to us even commended us as we left on how well behaved our children were and how well cultured they seemed. What else could we give our children, I thought as we left the restaurant, but experiences and exposure to the world to make them better human beings.

So on this coming Mother’s Day, all I want is to make some more time for long hot showers, more time to sit and take in my rapidly growing babes and to be gentle with myself as I learn to be a better versions of myself (and a better mommy, of course!) as every day passes by.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the hard working mamas out there, especially the ones who get to clean up poop more than once a day ( it’s only fair 😁).

Xoxo

Confessions of a Wife, Mother & Cook

Tag: raising children

2025

When Your Heart Skips a Beat

When Nothing Seems to go Right

An Open Letter To My Ever Growing Baby

On the Eve of Mother’s Day