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I DON’T RECOGNIZE MYSELF
I don’t recognize myself in the mirror sometimes. It’s more than my body, though that has changed in almost every way possible.
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I don’t recognize myself in the mirror sometimes. It’s more than my body, though that has changed in almost every way possible.
Quite a bit has been ripped from my hurried life lately. Like bullets pulled from my back, I feel wounded and empty in spaces
That’s how I’ve felt in life lately, like motherhood and the inconveniences and the events on the agenda are quicksand, and I am trying
Just a mom torn between angst from a rough night’s sleep and wonder at the face of the beautiful bed hog who caused it.
The HOA removed some pine trees behind our house last week. Our whole morning was filled with sawdust and chainsaws and watching arborists climb
Motherhood is a journey that’ll take you to unexpected places:
Like hot air balloon launches in Christmas PJs as the sun begins to rise,
Every night during her bath, I make it a point to speak truth over this babe of mine. I tell her: You are loved…
I am the default parent.
And for too long, I’ve let this fact be an excuse for my unhappiness and proof of my oppression.
It won’t always be like this.
There won’t always be midnight wake ups.
There won’t always be bedtime story time and smiles
Our toddler told us tonight about the monsters in her dream; he’s big with HUGE eyes and he roars at her in her bed.
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