Secretly Teaching My Daughter to Embrace the Messy/ Beautiful in Life

The other day I had a typical proud MOM moment.  Like the many before this one, I stared at my daughter and thought YEP, she’s a genius!  Luckily for me, I usually get brought back down to reality quick enough that I don’t start calling news agencies and boasting that I have the next Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds in the making.  Yes, my daughter is smart, beautiful and creative but she’s probably not a super genius wiz kid. PROBABLY.

But on this morning I was “Momming” around the house… you know cleaning, picking up and organizing… when I picked up her coloring book to put away.  Flipping back to the front, I noticed she had already gone ham on this new book as the pages were starting to fill quickly.  I immediately noticed a castle outline with coloring already in the works… and it was, for a 2 year old girl, AMAZING.  I was stunned at how inside the lines she was and how she had even started a pattern for the colors.  So impressed in fact, that I asked Abasi if it was his work, which thankfully it was not since he’s 36 and I know he’s got a better coloring game than that!  I couldn’t believe it… how could a little girl color so well, so neat and so organized?

I mean, she’s 2… wow, right?

 

And almost before I got through the thought in my head, I felt a sudden urge of panic.

Not an uncontrollable, debilitative panic but a small sensation running up my spine telling me to pay attention to something.  I knew immediately what it was.  The drawing was too neat and clean, too put together for a little girl.  I wanted her to go crazy, be messy, have fun with it, not worry about staying inside the lines too much.

And trust me, I would never say this to her… this stays between us.  I will encourage and applaud her drawings, neat or messy.  But I want to make sure she is embracing all the beauty that comes with being a little crazy, a little messy and a little imperfect.  This wasn’t a ground breaking, life shattering turn of events for Kennedy, she will never be the wiser, but now as her Mama, I have a secret mission: to help her embrace the messy and beautiful parts of life.

It’s along the same lines of cheering and clapping when a baby falls down.  They look immediately to your face to determine if this is something they should cry about, be hurt because of.  If you make a happy-big deal about it, they get excited again and keep on moving.  I want to be like that for every little messy part of Kennedy’s life.  Her biggest cheerleader (ugh, yes I said it) for big or small events that go either as planned or not according to plan.  I want her to know that not being perfect IS PERFECT.  She doesn’t have to get straight A’s, never have braces, win every game or keep every hair in it’s place, as long as she is giving it her all.  She can fall down, get up, go out on a limb, cry, wipe her eyes, take chances, fail and then succeed again because THAT is what it is all about in this crazy/ beautiful life.

Some people will get this, others will not.  That’s ok.  For me, I look at that picture and see how well done it was and know she is already on her way to being amazing.  She’s got it in her and I can’t wait to watch her grow and succeed like I know she will.  But I also know from my own experiences, that it’s not always about drawing inside the lines.  Doing something crazy, taking chances and making mistakes is how we learn and grow.  Some days we will be a perfectly colored castle and other days we will be a Jackson Pollock piece of art… and that is beautiful.

 

To The Friends Who Want Me to Stay Still…

Since leaving for college it seems I have been prisoner to explaining my need to go.  17 years old and leaving to another town, another state, hours away had never felt so right.  I wasn’t leaving them I would explain over and over, but simply leaving.  Moving on to a new place, new faces… not a new me, but a different me.

Over the last 10 years I have moved from my small home town to another state and eventually another country, always farther from “home” but closer to finding me.  It has never been about running or hiding or leaving a bad thing.  I am a traveler at heart, a shaker in my soul.  I need to move, I need to feel the change of a new pathway under my feet and the smell the scent of a new garden in the air.  I need to hear the sounds of a new town waking up in the morning and see the lights of a new city finally dim at night.  The adrenaline of feeling outside of my comfort zone is euphoric.  I need to keep going.

Mountain Views in Guatemala.

 

Anyone who travels know this.  Gets this.  Feels this.  Needs this.

Yet every time, without fail, I am accused of abandoning someone.  Questioned, yelled at, cried to, asked to stay.  But I never can.

To my friends that want me to stay still, I simply say… move.  Get in your car first and drive somewhere, anywhere, different.  Feel the wind on your face and the sun on your arm hanging out the window on your drive to no man’s land.  Jump on a plane or a train or a bus, who cares… just let it take you somewhere different.  Unknown.  Unfamiliar.  Possibly unplanned.

The moments I have impulsively buckled in for a road trip or jumped on a bus to a random town in Spain have been the most freeing moments of my life.  Navigating through Central America with only a paper map, Abasi and a bottle of tequila for courage has been one of my most rewarding experiences.

Navigating… and lost… in Mexico.

 

In every new body of water I stand reflected in, every new language I immerse myself in or every unknown alley I take, I turn towards a better understanding of myself.  A intimacy hard to explain unless you have stood at a literal crossroads and simply pointed in the direction you wanted to go, unaware of the outcome.

Tarifa, Spain

 

Even now… in paradise… I feel myself itching anxiously to move.  To see, to experience, to feel vulnerable again.

To my friends that want me to stay still, know this: I carry our stories on my journeys and weave your spirits into my experiences.  I do not leave you behind, but carry you beside me into every new cafe or bookstore I venture.  I roam because you have strengthened me enough to feel as if I can venture out and always have a home to return to.

And once you go, explore and return, overflowing with new ideas and tales of adventures you will get it.  Feel it.  You will come back with friends’ names you can barely pronounce whom with you’ve had conversations barely understandable between the barriers of language, yet you will feel FULL.  Alive.  You will feel humbled.  Rich.  But most of all you will finally get that every movement I ever took didn’t take me away from you, simply closer to you in another direction.

Just go.  And then you won’t have to ask me why I can’t stay.

Tarifa, Spain.

My Little Girl’s Gentle Soul: Nature vs Nurture

To say that my daughter surprises and inspires me daily is an understatement.  The obvious humor Kennedy possesses is nothing compared to the gentle soul that frequently expresses empathy for others.  I have seen my 2 year old care more for other human beings than some grown folk.  By 1 years old she was rubbing the backs of older children who were crying, obvious to their sadness.  As her age progressed, so did her awareness of situations with pain and sadness, leaving her to cry at sad songs in movies… obviously my child with that one.  She just gets it.

Today I stood in awe from the doorway as I watched my tiny little human, the best thing I have ever created, line her animals and dollies up on the bed to sleep, whisper in their ear and kiss them on their heads.  Kennedy beams beautiful from the inside out.  She has grace that I cannot explain and question if I can even take credit for.

Of course there are moments when the terrible twos rage their screaming, belligerent heads.  Moments where she looses all human like qualities and simply flails on the ground like a sea creature out of water.  Oh yes, my darling daughter does that also.  But I feel like those moments only help to show the stark contrast that is her soft and gentle nature.

How did this happen?  Is it simply who she is or a direct result of our obvious award winning and glorious parenting?  Though I obviously kid about the next-to-Godly job I am doing parenting, I do pray that my daughter’s kindness comes at least in part from her interactions with Abasi and I.  “Dear God, please allow Abasi and I to continue being the very best parents we can” is a nightly prayer.  I only want to do the VERY best I possibly can do for her… nothing more, nothing less.

Hopefully it is a combination though.  Hopefully Kennedy’s born nature is working in peaceful unity with the examples she sees not only from Abasi and I, but from her family, friends and surroundings.  The simple nature that is our life here in Costa Rica hopefully lends Kennedy to feeling less of the hustle and bustle stress of an over-stimulated world.  I certainly have moments that are not in my finest hour, when the stress of the day erupts after washing the 100th plate of the day and the dirty dish water splashes up into my face and over on the floor, leaving me howling out the kitchen window like a crazed wolf.  Oh yes, picture it.  These moments I would rather prefer her NOT to note for later use.

The moments like today only inspire me to snip my loose ends and tighten up my game.  Not because I am trying to be perfect and act like I don’t loose my cool or have moments of being incredibly overwhelmed.  I want to simply mirror the beauty that I see in my daughter.  If she can learn from my nurture, then why can I not learn from hers?

And if this is the result- this small, beautiful, bundle of empathy, humor and grace than I am humbled, truly humbled, to be her mother, her teacher and her student.

Resolutions Don’t Have To Be Cliche: Improvements in 2015

So we’ve all heard it year after year, “New Year, New Me!”  While there always seems to be people who snicker at the concept of resolutions, I personally don’t see a problem with it.  In my opinion, a bold starting date, such as the 1st of the year, seems like a great jump off point to get your goals and butt in gear.

I think the problem comes when people try for something either unrealistic or something they probably already know they won’t follow through with.  Why start something you can’t finish?  Of course, resolutions are meant to be challenging, but keep it within the realm of reality and your sanity people.

So for me this year I have 3 small New Year’s resolutions.  One is for me to feel better, one is to help Kennedy in the current (and get Abasi off my back : ) shhh) and the other is to help Kennedy in the future.

The first is pretty par for the course for me these days… I just need to really commit to it.  Ever since being pregnant I have developed an intolerance to beer, bread and pasta.  To take those 3 delicious staples from my diet, you would think Kennedy hated me even before she was born!  In fact, Abasi says he got suspicious that I might be pregnant when I told him I “wasn’t in the mood for pasta” right before we found out about Kennedy.  HELLO RED FLAGS!!! Well after the pregnancy it continued and me being stubborn it definitely took some time admitting to it.  I have done pretty well with getting the main culprit out, which is pasta, but I still dabble in beer and bread.  WHO WOULDN’T RIGHT??  Well for this upcoming year, I want to go from Jan 1st to my birthday, April 22nd, without any of it to truly see if it makes a difference in my health.  Pray for me friends, this will be TOUGH!

Secondly, I want to work on something SUPER EASY!  I am the first to admit my downfalls and as a parent I am certainly not perfect.  But this one is so easy, I know I can fix it if I am just MINDFUL about it.  So here it is…. I’M BAD AT WASHING KENNEDY’S HANDS BEFORE SHE EATS!  Whhheewww, weight off my shoulder, save the ‘Mom of the Year’ award until next year, you now know my dirty (literally) little secret.  I am super good at getting home cooked meals ready in a snap, serving it up exactly how Kenny will eat it and setting up her little table.  I GET SO CLOSE… and then I just let her go to it.  Well, it is kinda gross, especially being a tiny little force of nature constantly doing things in every conceivable nook and cranny in the house.  AND this is one of Abasi’s BIG hangups… he is super good at remembering this.  So, as silly as it may seem, I am going to be VERY mindful about washing Kennedy’s hands before she eats.  Moving on.

Finally, this is something I have been very aware of for a while, but until Kennedy really started mocking every little thing I did, I didn’t think of the consequences of.  I think I do something that easily 75% of America does without thinking twice.  When I walk past a mirror, especially the more I work out, I stop and check myself out, flex or lift my shirt to see my tummy.  One day, I was walking by the mirror in my bathing suit and stopped and checked out my figure.  I saw Kennedy stop playing with her toys and notice what I was doing.  I decided then, that I wanted to make this change.  I am not going to completely stop “analyzing” my fitness results but I am going to stop fussing about myself in the mirror in front of Kennedy.  I want my daughter to know that she is strong and beautiful from the inside out, not the other way around. I am happy with the way I am physically coming along which is a great thing.  I am glad Kennedy sees Abasi and I working out, getting stronger physically and mentally, but I don’t ever want her to obsess about her looks.

One day, I was walking by the mirror in my bathing suit and stopped and checked out my figure.  I saw Kennedy playing with her toys beside me stop and notice what I was doing.  I decided then, that I wanted to make this change.  I am not going to completely stop “analyzing” my fitness results but I am going to stop fussing about myself in the mirror in front of Kennedy.  I want my daughter to know that she is strong and beautiful from the inside out, not the other way around.

So that’s it.  Nothing too crazy, nothing too unobtainable.  I will work hard at these (and I’m sure many other things that need constant fine tuning) but I will not punish myself if I slip.  I will acknowledge it and move on. Friends and family feel free to hold me accountable… slap that damn piece of bread from my hand!  And then run fast my friends, very fast ; )

I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas and has a new year full of health, wealth and happiness. What are your goals for the New Year?  Share ’em with me and let’s work on ourselves together! Here’s to a fantastic 2015!!

The Hand of Ignorance Blinds Us All: Moving Past Hate and Racism

I feel like I’m suffocating.  Perhaps that is a poor choice of words in respect to recent events and it is meant to have zero comedic relief in it, but it is truly how I am feeling at the moment.  I feel so lost and confused, embarrassed and sad, ashamed and defeated.  How can this still be such a violent and ugly problem in almost 2015?  Normally, living in such a remote place, it is easy to cast the troubles and tensions of the U.S. into the “not my problem” box, but I feel like I can’t ignore it anymore.  My gut is wrenched and my heart is almost in pieces as people are dying daily because of… what?  Police brutality?  Black vs white? Thugs?  No, it’s more simple than that.  It’s because of hate.  All because of hate.

And quite frankly, I need you to explain it to me.

I hear things like “you people” and “those people” as if all people of one race, religion or occupation subscribe to the same deplorable behavior and actions that have been wreaking havoc on our nation.  I read such hate being spewed throughout my newsfeed about black people or police as a whole, choosing to forget that every person is an individual and responsible for their own actions, not those of their people.  Truly you cannot believe in your heart that all police officers are killers… if so, then please know you are talking about my cousins who risk their lives every day to serve and protect, all the while having 2 little boys to come home to.  And certainly you do not believe that all black people are ignorant thugs, as I have read too many times to count in various news feeds and comments.  If so, then you are speaking also of the father of my daughter, my best friend and one of the most honorable men I know, whom mind you served our country as well… but he’s a thug right?  It goes beyond just generalizations of white people, black people and cops.  Too often people of the Islamic religion are also generalized as part of a whole, attacked undeservedly and tagged terrorists just for being Muslim.  Who are we in this world of constant diversity to assume anyone is anyone other than themselves?  Being a part of or from something does not make you ALL of that something.

Please do explain it to me, because I just don’t get the generalized, automatic hate.  As a white mother to a beautifully mixed daughter, I can’t understand the fact that some people will hate her, just for being “half her.”  What do I say to her as her white mother, that there are some people from my race that will simply hate her father’s race for no good reason?  Can we not see, as a supposedly evolved people, that one person’s actions only depict their character, for better or for worse?  I can’t explain it because I never conducted my life by the color of the people I interacted with. Being in a biracial relationship doesn’t mean my world is “colorless” but to the contrary it is that much more colorful.  I neither fell in love with Abasi because he was black, nor would I ever NOT love him because he was black.

Recently, I  re-read the saying “an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” but I am beginning to think that possibly we already are.  Can we not see the small patches of beauty in this world enough to want to continue to move in that direction.  Towards a better future for our children, towards equality of all people: black, white, purple, gay, trans, Muslim, robot?  How can a country that has seen so much destruction and hate feel compelled to fester with that instead of rise against it and show that there is such a thing as being the better person?  Of moving forward.  Moments like Sergent Barnum and Devonte Hart putting aside their differences in Ferguson to embrace in the presence of pain.  Moments like Pakistani teenager Malala Yousafzai being the youngest recipient of the Noble Peace Prize after being injured by the Taliban and continuing to fight for human rights.  Or moments just in your own, simple life such as when my daughter grabs my face and says “I wuv you Mama.”  There is beauty to behold, but the blindness of hatred does not allow us all to always experience it, thus continuing to walk through a world, seemingly filled with pain and darkness.

The truth is, people are dying… on both “sides.”  This isn’t about who was right, who was wrong, was he justified, etc.  What I am talking about right here, right now is the bottom line hate that stirs the ignorance and fuels the fires.  No matter what “side” you are on, and it is nauseating to see the depths at which some of you will blindly defend your side, no one is winning.  There is no winner to be had here.  Children are still becoming fatherless and parents are still mourning their children.  Yes, it is true black lives matter.  So do white lives and cop lives.  So do gay lives and straight lives.  It’s really simple… ALL LIVES MATTER.

The only side we should be on, is a united front for humanity and equality.  When that day comes, then perhaps I will have the courage to look my daughter in the eye and explain that our pasts are all etched with dark times but we have risen above it and are a united, accepting people.  I truly do fear, as not only a woman who does not tolerate racism nor hate but especially as a mother, that not even my daughter will ever see that day.  But I can continue to pray for it.  And I can continue to teach my daughter that the beauty in this world starts inside of her.  That her actions to others not only have negative consequences but have the opportunities to enrich the lives of others as well.  I can continue to conduct myself and my actions with tolerance (which is different than patience Abasi, thank you very much… I am working on that as well) and to choose to love instead of hate. Please do not get me wrong… I am the last person in the world to say there are not people out there that I would love to put on an island just for them, but to hate someone really only defeats yourself and darkens your own soul.

So let’s do something.  Let’s start today, before the holidays, before the New Year.  Not as just a resolution to work on for one year, but forever for our futures.  TODAY.

Today, I vow to recommit myself to the achievement of peace.  Today, I vow to refocus my prayers to the people that cannot open their hearts to others.  Today, I vow to replenish my soul daily with love and acceptance instead of allowing myself to get wrapped up in petty problems or linger on negative actions.  If we all take a moment to look inside ourselves then maybe, just maybe, we can rid ourselves of the blinders and begin to see the wonder that this world truly holds.  Though we may feel foolish and cheated for ever living a day prior with a hand of ignorance held over our eyes, we can solidify and promise a beautiful and accepting future for our children… and what a day to look forward to that is.

Will you join me?

The epitome of love ❤

Everything in life should be as simple as this moment right here… ❤

Mornings I Want to SCREEAMM!!!

Oh hello 6:30am… is it time to wake up, because I could’ve sworn I just closed my eyes barely before my head hitting the pillow.

But no, it has to be time to get up, because I hear Kennedy pounding on her door, yelling “MAAAMMMAA!!”  Opening the door, I am greeted by the newest fashion trend Kennedy is flaunting… full on nudity, convinced she must take off her own diaper behind the door every morning.  And it is definitely morning, because the sun is up from its sleep as well and the monkeys, yes monkeys, are howling and grunting high above our heads.  Yes… it is definitely morning in Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica for this Jungle Princess and her mama.

But unlike normal mornings, coffee in hand and cartoons on the TV, we don’t have time today to adjust to the new day before heading to school.  No, today we must finish the cake for Kennedy’s class party, which means running out to town before 8am.  Hurry, hurry, hurry, we have to get out the door my little love.

Hardly.  My beautiful child, who can rock an easy disposition like no ones business is having none of it today.  Incessant whining every time I put her down, needing to be held, then yelling NO! as if to say “HOW DARE YOU PICK ME UP!”  This tiny little maniac is sending signals all over the place and all the whining is already fine tuning my must-get-coffee-now-headache.  God bless my soul, even her rare moments of happiness induced singing are driving me crazy this morning. Pushing through the fits and  trying my damnedest to keep calm, I turn her attention to getting dressed because today, I remind her, is a party at school!  My efforts seem not to be in vain but she quickly remembers she has recently mastered her colors- thank God because I swear I thought she was color blind. However, Hell hath no fury like a toddler that knows her colors.  “GGGWWEEEENNNN PANNNTSSSS!!!”  Dear God, please Krysta… find the green pants, I beg of myself.  And as if taunting me, I peer through her bedroom window to see her green pants hanging on the line, dripping wet from last night’s (and the night before that and the night before that and, well you get it…) rain.  Well that sucks.

I try to steer her attention to a “yellow-green” shirt, to no avail.  Thankfully, after another bout of fits and crying, she decides red is ok to wear and like a gift given from God himself, there are a pair of red pants sitting as a sacrifice atop the pile.  Remember to say an extra thank you later, I remind myself.

Fast forwarding through more huffs and puffs, the wanting the banana then not wanting the banana, NEEDING to wear her blue shoes (what do I care if it doesn’t match and we can get it done without tears), and again with the needing to be held… carried actually to the car.  It feels like I’m rounding third, on my way to home plate, just a quick stop at the store and we are at school… I can practically smell the coffee percolating in my kitchen.

BUT NO, duh.  The mental prepping I had done last night is all awash.  The candy I had envisioned on the cake is out of stock and the other candies aren’t going to cut it.  Think fast, move on Krysta.  At this point, Kennedy has already stared wide eyed at the candy display, holding onto the promise she could have “only one.”  With the time restraint and lack of suitable candy, I make what I know to be an unwise move and leave the store, sans candy.  Insert waterworks —->> here.  More like fireworks with tears, as she screams and thrashes all the way to the car.  A local surfer I pass says “you look nervous,” and though I think the term got lost in a language translation, I know what he means and blurt out “I JUST NEED TO FINISH A CAKE!!!”

I run to the only other store open at this hour and settle on rainbow sprinkles… no not Jimmies to all my South Jersey friends… these are the tiny little ball sprinkles.  It is lack luster but it will have to suffice.  Kennedy at this point has refocused her energies and compromises on a juice.  Easy.  Buy it and run to the car, open the sprinkles and again my Murphy’s Law of a morning continues.  SPRINKLES EVERYWHERE.  EVERYWHERE.  Clean up all the sprinkles and I drop the freaking cap on the ground almost under the car.  I seriously don’t have time for this and I can feel my blood rising into my face.  WOOOSSAAHHH, Krysta, you’re so close to home, the ball’s in mid field, you will DEFINITELY make it to home plate.

Throw the kid back in the car, head to school, hand over the cake… I am relinquished of that responsibility now… and give kisses goodbye.  Halleujah, I slide around the plate, barely sweeping my fingers on the base, close but enough for the home run… I am free.  Free for the next 4 hours.  Well actually 2.5 because I have work meetings, but still free to go get some coffee, decompress and renew my patience.

Not every single morning is rainbows and sunshine people.  Most days are great.  But some days I want to rip my hair out.  Today was one of them.  This too shall pass. And at noon, I will gladly go to the school, scoop my big/ little girl into my arms, ask her how her day was and kiss her until I turn blue in the face.  It’s about breathing, accepting the bad moments, embracing the good and pushing forward to the new.

And it helps to remember that children are really just tiny, little, crazy midgets whose sole purpose is to make you go bat s*%t crazy… but they do it with love.  : )  True story.

At least the cake looks cool… pre frosting and sprinkles.

Keepin’ It Thankful…

Hidey ho amigos!  Hope everyone’s day is going super well.  It was really great to get the response that I did to my last post “Dear Kennedy, I Promise” and everyone that privately messaged me really touched me. So thank you for that. Since my last couple of posts have been preetttyyy llooonnggg, I decided to keep it short and sweet… to match my new haircut ; )

And because Thanksgiving is tomorrow, let’s keep talking about being thankful!  Somethings in life we KNOW we are thankful for, like for our health and that of our loved ones.  I recently read a post by another blogging mama (you should read her stuff… Mom Life Now ) I follow and in her last post, she painfully described the scene at their house while their son suffered through another seizure.  Pure nightmare.  Pure hell.  Pure agony.  In the end, he was fine, but I truly cannot put myself in her shoes and I THANK GOD FOR THIS.  Literally the day before reading her post, I was watching Kennedy as she was falling asleep for a nap and she began shaking her head almost in a yes nod, up and down, up and down.  It freaked me out.  She wasn’t convulsing, she wasn’t moving erratically, simply shaking her head “yes.”  HELL, it’s probably the only “yes” she has given me in the past year so I should’ve let her be, but I couldn’t.  Like I said, it freaked me out.  I assume she was dreaming, but nonetheless I woke her up.  Wake a sleeping toddler, crazy huh? The health, happiness and safety of my daughter is my most focused prayer every night.  I am thankful beyond measure for my own health, that of Abasi and all of our family and friends, and while we too are in my prayers every night, nothing compares to my desire for Kennedy to be healthy and safe.  So for that, more than anything in the world… I am blessed and thankful for.

But then there are things that you appreciate unconsciously and as I sat down to write today, I giggled at myself when I realized that outside of the BIG THING… I really appreciate some small, silly stuff.

Like free coffee at the local ferretería.  There’s nothing special about it, except that I know that when I go to our hardware store, I can score some free coffee and it makes me smile.  I LOVE COFFEE!

Like the fact that you can take a $1 mug and some markers and make a brand new mug for that coffee I love so much.  I also LOVE mugs.

HHOO loves mugs more than me? ; )

And small things like getting my haircut today.  2 hours to relax, chit chat with my girlfran and walk out feeling lighter and refreshed.  Today I did it big and cut my hair short, and I’m even thankful that I SIMPLY DON’T CARE if I take that risk because it is just going to grow back.  9 times out of 10… hair grows back. Cut it off.  Take a chance.  AHHH REFRESHING.

Nice face, huh? A bit apprehensive?

And then there are super cool things that you realize you didn’t know you would be thankful for, or even ever need.  Like writing.  I’ve always loved writing, but I never thought I would need to write.  NOW I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO WRITE. Because it helps me and because I think it’s helping some others too.  AND I NEED THAT.  I am thankful for all the people that pushed me to start a blog and the people that continuously comment, share, like, follow, friend, tweet, etc, etc because it makes me feel SO connected.  Recently, a friend gave me a book by Glennon Doyle Melton (who I am learning is AWESOME, you should check her out too at Momastery.com) to help support and inspire my writing.  She already knows how much I appreciate it, but again, GRACIAS Zoee!  In this book, Mrs. Melton says, “Reading is my inhale, writing is my exhale.”  That is so incredibly beautiful and true.  But the more I thought about it today I realized that for me, writing is my inhale, and YOU… all the people reading this blog and supporting me… are my exhale.  Publishing a new post for me is like holding my breath… waiting for that first comment or like.  A bit narcissistic I know, but it’s more because I want so badly to touch a place in people’s hearts and souls.  I am so grateful FOR YOU GUYS, for giving me a reason to sit down and truly enjoy writing.  Wanting to write.  It helps me deal with life, it calms me down and every time I get a private message saying “THANK YOU, I NEEDED THAT POST TODAY,” I blush with pride.  I am truly honored to be able to express some things that others are feeling also.  SO THANK YOU… ALL OF YOU.

That is it.  Kennedy is napping, I’m gonna watch some boob tube and tomorrow is Thanksgiving Feast time with lots of great people AND GREAT FOOTBALL!  I can’t wait to start baking my Pumpkin Cheesecake and various other recipes I’ve been dying to try.

Have a great day tomorrow, appreciate the small and big things in life and love freely : )