I Believe...

the sun, sweat and tears cure a lot of things.

I believe I'm a glass-half-full kind of girl, but some days there isn't a drop left, and I'm neither good nor bad; I'm indifferent and numb and that's worse than anything else.

I believe that when I look into my children's eyes, I can see my soul and the holes in my heart are filled up again.

I believe there is always light after the storm.

I believe that you have to search to find joy; and when you stop searching; stop seeing the little things; a piece of you dies inside. I believe that some days I have my eyes closed tight to these little joys and I need a slap in the face to wake me up.

I believe a hand on someone's shoulder and a How are you doing? can go a long way.

I believe a hug can heal and a sunrise can soothe and looking at the harvest moon is magical and sharing those things with someone you love is a spoonful of soul sugar.

I believe that a child's laugh is some of the best music.

I believe that colors are happiness wrapped in a bright package waiting to be splashed on paper and bright ones are the best; but even the bright ones need to be dimmed sometimes.

I believe I've had some dark days this winter, but the dark days are passing and I can see light again; I believe you have to go through some darkness to appreciate the light; you have to experience cold, dark days to appreciate the warmth of the summer sun.

I believe in the good in people.

I believe in spreading the love.

I believe I can make the world a better place, but it starts at home.

Dreaming...

I had a dream last night that we packed up the family and headed south. We drove and drove until the cold winds turned to warm breezes, and as we drove we shed our layers and threw them out the windows; coats, hats, mittens; layer after layer after layer. We drove until we were in muscle shirts and shorts and flip-flops. We drove until the sun kissed our cheeks and the sweat glistened on our faces and I was warm. We drove until we found a sandy beach and we plopped on our towels and the kids ran to catch the waves and they were laughing and I was laughing until my cheeks hurt and I yelled, I'm never going back!! It was a good dream...a really good dream.

Spread Some Love...

today and every day.

Tell them you love them...

Hug them, kiss them, smile at them with your heart and eyes and soul.

Hold their hand, write them love letters, bake them something they love.

Sit beside them, tell them they make you happy, and in turn you'll make them happy.

 Spread the love...I dare you.

Atrophy

Winter is my off season. It's my I-don't-want-to-go-outside season; my hibernation season; my just-get-through-it season. January is especially hard. It's cold and dark and gray and dismal. The sun doesn't shine for days and I seem to lose my sparkle.

I've had to get creative with my workouts. No running outdoors in this weather. It's snow-covered ice and dangerous windchills. I've been itching for a good run outside; a run to make the sweat drip and the swirling thoughts to fly away. My leg muscles don't feel as strong and they need to be exercised and so do my writing ones. I've neglected this little spot of mine. My leg muscles and my writing muscles go hand-in-hand, though. Some of my best thoughts come to me when I'm running. Today, I ran 90 flights of stairs. Up and down, up and down. It's a miracle I didn't fall down those stairs. Up and down and up again. I blasted the music, set up Barney for the littlest one, and ran and ran and ran. The sweat was dripping and the blood was flowing and I.was.happy. Twenty minutes and 1080 stairs and the swirling thoughts, they were freed. 

I can't let atrophy set in; not in my leg muscles or my writing ones.

Today the sun is out. There is fresh snow on the ground and it is beautiful; all sparkly and glittery and when I stepped outside I didn't feel as if I had been slapped in the face with the wind.

January is over and February is short and the sunlight hours are getting longer and I feel half alive again. My soul is starting to thaw and I feel the promise of the spring.

Eight is Great...

Anna, you are 8 today.

I remember the night before my scheduled c-section, so excited to have a little girl that I couldn't sleep at all that night. Your little pink and purple clothes were all laid out and and I was so excited to be your mama and do our 'girly' things together, like paint nails and play dress-up and do your hair and go shopping together. 

Sometimes, I feel like I'm failing miserably at being your mama. You are me; you are stubborn and smart and underneath that hard shell is a beautiful soul and lively, enthusiastic spirit. You are my challenging one; the one that shuts down if something is wrong; the one who wants to wear her summer sparkly shoes in the dead of winter; the one that loves so big and has a smile to match; the one that has a contagious laugh and a concerned heart and is loving and kind and has a sensitive soul to match. Sometimes, I have to look inside myself to figure you out; do some soul searching to try to help you, because we are two halves of a whole, and it is difficult sometimes. 

I love you as far as the stars and moon and back. I love you fiercely, and when your heart hurts, so does mine. 

I love that you love to create things; draw and paint and write in your many, many, many notebooks. I love that when I let you pick something out in the store, it's always new pens and notebooks to write; new crafts to create. I love that you think I'm a crafty mom, because I so am not. 

I love you for you and I hope you never change, because you are beautiful, both inside and out. I hope the world doesn't crush your spirit and your enthusiasm and your pure zest for living. 

You can do anything you set your mind to, anything and everything, and you are extraordinary. I need to tell you this more often; I need to tell you that on ordinary days, you make life extraordinary. 

Happy Birthday, sweet girl. 

Winter...

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.--Dr. Suess

I cried when the big kids went back to school after Christmas vacation. I love having them home. I don't love the wars that sometimes break out when they're all home, but I love having them all cozy in our nest. I'm not ready for them to fly away; and yet, it's happening little by little. Sports and friends and activities and going in different directions at the same time.

I'm trying to enjoy this season we're in; this very cold winter season; while the kids are big enough to enjoy the outdoor things like sledding and ice skating; but not too big to go and do them by themselves. That's why I love my husband for forcing me out in my many, many layers of clothing; so I can see the pure joy on their faces as they are facing their fears of sledding down the big hill, or making it all the way down on the snowboard for the very first time.

My brave little 6 year old, who proclaimed I'm facing my fears, mama!! We can learn a lot from a little kid, can't we?

Gosh, I love them. But I can't wait until summer.