and at the end… there was you
you. where do i begin with you?
well… jay… simply put… you are tough. tough in every sense of the word.
let that shit go (part two)
there was no awareness of the moment while it was happening.
life simply moved on.
life can be brutal like that.
and the mets will WIN!
i wish i could somehow show this photo to myself ten years ago.
“chill. you will find a GORGEOUS man. a good man. and you will have a baby boy with curly blonde hair and crystal clear blue eyes. and they will both love you so much that they root for the mets.
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so wonderfully ours
to my hunny on your second birthday,
two. oh my. my boy, my heart, my world. you are two. how can this be? on one hand i can hardly believe two whole years have passed since we met. on the other it seems like an entire lifetime ago when it was just me and baba and snoop dogg.
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to prove to myself
twenty four months ago i gave birth to our son. eight months ago i brought our daughter into the world. seven months ago i started training. and in five days i am running the new jersey marathon.
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nope. not even close.
while i am confident i will not be among the fastest pounding the pavement of the jersey shore on race day, i am more than sure i will be one of the gutsiest.
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keep f*cking going.
today was the longest of my marathon training runs. this week and in particular this run have been glaring up at me from my training calendar for the last six months.
morei come back to the pavement.
i ran sixteen of the slowest miles any human being has ever traveled on friday. by the time i crossed the threshold into my house i was utterly defeated. my pace is no where near where it once was.
morei believe more.
this morning… while eating handfuls of banana chips and playing with his little people toys… my almost two year old stopped dead in his tracks. he looked up… smiled, waved, and said “hi!”
morein the thick of it.
there are many lies new parents are told. one of the most popular, aside from, “you can sleep when the baby sleeps,” is “it only gets harder from here. you will miss these days when they are older.” each time i hear this lie… and i hear it a lot… i have to physically bite my tongue to stop myself from replying with a firm, “shove it up your ass.”
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it started with jethro tull.
my mister and i unearthed a copy of too old to rock ‘n’ roll: too young to die! while rummaging through bins at a record shop in seattle a few years back and have been hooked on stacking wax ever since.
moreall i can say is hold on.
but the very last thing my old man wrote was, “it’s hard to imagine that someone who has done so much in such a short amount of time is really just getting started. ant, all i can say is hold on….”
moreresolution realized.
i resolved to read twenty five books in 2018. it took me a few extra days (because… babies…) to finish working my way through the final book, but i did it!
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it’s me. your mom.
hi hunny. it’s me. your mom. your all day ery’day playmate. your constant companion. your personal jungle gym. your butt wiper. your tear drier. your boo boo kisser. your snack bitch.
moreunsolicited advice
all the terrible, annoying, “is this bitch really suggesting i sleep while the baby sleeps?” advice is still ringing in my ears. with the garbage advice i somehow managed to not roll my eyes at very fresh in my mental and my second pregnancy nearing the home stretch i compiled a list of the tips and tricks i wish were passed along to me as i prepared to become a first time mama.
moreto go it a little slower.
i spotted a friend while grocery shopping at my local acme. not a close friend. more like the good friend of some of my really good friends. i knew his parents lived on my street, but i hadn’t seen him in while.
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it will all be wonderful
today my first born has completed an entire rotation around the sun and truth be told, my hormonal pregnant butt is feeling pretty emo about the whole thing. from the moment he was born hunter has been anything but normal. i guess considering who his parents are, we should have expected as much.
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just a little bit louder.
in my dreams i delivered my first born in a warm, candle lit room while my husband gently encouraged me to breathe. a playlist packed with cat stevens, conor oberst, and james taylor would play softly in the background while the scent of carefully selected essential oils wafted through the air.
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thank you.
more often than not, the things i take for granted today are the things i prayed most hard for. the things i was never sure i would have.
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let that shit go
i toast the mamas who cringe at the “normalize breastfeeding” hashtag while silently wishing they could also erase the stigma thrown onto formula feeding families. i see you.
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