And So The Story Goes...

It is creeping up on us. It's almost been a year.

Just when you think the world has learned from such anguish and pain, there is another public place or school in lock-down. There are more mental health concerns unnoticed or not spoken about, and more victims in the ground.

I took my new job not knowing the connection it had to the former principal of Sandy Hook. One day I was filing something in the main office and saw her face in a frame. She had once been the principal of this school as well. This became really significant to me.

 Sure as a community surrounding that school it had personally inflicted so much trauma, and ripped so much of our communal innocence away. Suddenly we were afraid to be teachers, afraid to send our kids to school, and looking suspiciously in each others eyes full of worry.

I have, in the almost 11 months, tackled the fact it could have been my first grader just miles away. I grappled the weird conversations with people that knew the victims, or had kids that survived that day. Every twist and turn of the almost year that has gone by has revealed another connection. We live to close not to be connected.

So this building that I now call my second home, once was hers too. It also held her husband who taught years here. I think about her every time I walk into the present principals office. I think about the fact that we all start somewhere, and we all move on elsewhere eventually. Who would have thought being a teacher or a principal would ever put you on the front line? Who would have thought that someone that used to sit at that same desk that I print from daily, or ate lunch in that same teachers room-gave her life that day with a large attempt to save others. And so now, every time I file something in that main office, I look at that picture and I thank her for this reality. We all have no idea what we are made of until we are pressed to use it.

I am pleased to go to a conference that is not only in memory of one of the victims, but is based upon the greater good of prevention. How can we help to make this NOT happen again in our communities? How can we advocate, and deal with crisis before it's a crippling crisis.

I have wondered a thousand times how I could give back. How can I help these loving families grieve? They can only eat so many casseroles, and hear so many "I'm sorry's". What about using what I got? I got my degree, and the ability to help others in a school setting. I have the ability to advocate, analyze,  and address things that main be concerning before they are a concern. I have the ability to help by being the beforehand.

There hasn't been a day I haven't thought of those little faces, or the brave adult ones. Not a day I haven't thought of the fact that my day might feel bad, but those parents got out of bed today was a victory. Just as the world has expected for everyone to move on, and those in the trenches have tried hard to-- it is seemingly harder again.

I was reminded at a staff meeting where I am still getting to know others working in this district how entrenched and creatively weaved we are all in this together. I listened to the story of this brave social worker who went to find her own child that day in the firehouse, and did. However, she went on to stay, and happened to be the one who made that dreadful list of missing names that not one of us would ever imagine having to do. My heart cried and wailed for her.

There are so many stories. To many stories. And just when you thought you heard them all, there is another. Just when you think you have seen all the pictures you would ever see in the world about this, there is one smiling at you sitting above the filing cabinet at work.

Parenting In Social Media

Growing up in today's society is more pressure then my generation could ever imagine thanks to social media. I keep watching the middle schoolers in the lunch room taking selfies and wondering how all of the pics they take and put on Instagram/Twitter/Facebook could have an impact on their safety, confidence, and future.

It is hard enough being a kid. There isn't anything knew about wearing the "right" pair of sneakers, having a awkward body, trying to fit in, and getting over being out of your comfort zone. These are all things that have been demonstrated throughout generations. Social media's impact however, is a new game. A scary, scary game.

I understand how we are moving to more technology, and pushing our schools to demonstrate learning through it. However, it frightens me that kids have so much accessibility to not only those who know them, but also to those that don't.

Recently, while speaking to a Mom who has a middle schooler, she told me about her daughter wanting to text. She put down strict rules of monitoring her texts, and who she was able to text. Although the transition went smoothly, I kept thinking how hard it is as a Mom to open that door. Let's be honest, if we were to monitor all of our kids online activity it would end up being a full-time job. I just couldn't comprehend opening that door, trusting your kid, and praying they are safe. The only thing I could compare that fear to when I was growing up is parents letting kids go to parties with possible alcohol and hoping their kid made right choices. Similar-yes-- but the part of the Internet letting the world in scares me.

What will my kids future employer think when they google my kids name and see's selfies, tweets, etc, that depict my child is a certain way that is less then pleasing? How can I be sure the selfie my daughter took in her bikini someday doesn't end up in the hands of a sicko that can read the location it was taken and find her? How do I know that my child isn't being bullied or bullying another peer when it is so easy so say words on the Internet then in person? And what about these cutesy groups kids are creating -like "tap a titty Tuesday" at schools across the nation? Can we please go back to passing notes and using the good ol' telephone strapped to the wall so that adult can monitor content?

Yep. That's me sounding like a grandma. I'm just scared what is to come in a few years. A lot of these worries are creeping up on me when I see the kids at their lockers in middle school and hear the things they are saying. It is an entirely different time, playing by entirely different rules. I can never say "When I was your age I experienced the same thing"-- because the world didn't have access to me and my immature choices of putting out certain things to the world that could come back to haunt me.

I just keep praying I will know how to monitor, and keep them safe. That my kids will know better and do better. That my Mom worry is full of emptiness, and that they learn to live in a world of technology unharmed. I pray they will still know how to spend quality time with people, that they know how to build rich friendships/relationships in real time, that they use the phone, write cards/letters, and while at dinner speak with those they are eating with while not caught up on Facebook with what someone else is eating.

The lesson of technology is a hard one. We want our kids to be educated on it. We want them to be scholars. However, what price is it paying ultimately on our kids as social human beings. Will they know how to seize the moment? Will they know how to drive without a gps? Travel without someone being able to get ahold of them right there right now? Does the world-- heck do I--need to know what and where they are every second of every day?

Clearly I adore social media. Clearly I lack at some of the things I hope my kids don't do. The difference being, I am a mature adult who knows how to navigate between right and wrong. I am not naive to the way the world works. And I just want to keep them safe.

TGIF

When your baby is crying because he has a 103 fever, aching, and saying "Momma", you sort want to stay home.

I knew the day would come where it wasn't all rainbows and sunshine. I knew the Mom guilt would come one day, but not so soon. I couldn't stay home when I had so much going on at work, and have only been there for a month.

I cried all the way to work. I felt like a failure as a Mom. A sell out. The poor kid wanted him Momma-not any other family member.

I made it through the important stuff that luckily transpired in the morning. Lucky for me I work with a lot of Moms that understood why I was so heart broken. After calling home to check in and learn that he was still upset, I couldn't sit in my office any longer. My first unexpected 1/2 day was about to happen.

I went home and put on the yoga pants, and cozied on the sofa with him. I know three hours of his life that he didn't have me while sick wouldn't be memorable to him, but it would be to me. You see for the other two kids there hasn't been a moment of sickness they didn't get to have Mom. This poor child now has to fight for me with my job.

Everything comes with balance. I am sure it will get easier with time. It is hard to want it all on your own terms. Life just doesn't seem to work that way.

It has been an incredibly challenging week this week. As the baby got better, I started to get sick. I pressed on, while trying to muster up the energy to do my job accurately. I stayed positive as much as I could. I poured every ounce of me out in our to make it to this day. FRIDAY!

The hard part I will struggle with this weekend is wanting to do fun things with my kids, while trying to recuperate for Monday. I am beyond exhausted not only from sickness, but emotionally. I have poured, and poured, and left literally on empty. I'm hoping that a little bit of sleeping in and some warm cozy clothes will be enough to fix it.

In the past, when I was a working women minus the family, I was able to recuperate by having every night, and every evening free to do as I please. Now that time is filled with putting on the Mom hat, and figuring out how to be great at BOTH! The trick is to figure out how to be both without guilt.

9/11

I can remember that day clearly.

My innocence was peeled back. It is funny when you are talking about innocence when you are in your mid-twenties being lost. Up until this point certain things in life I was no longer naive about, but never in am million years did I think as a grown adult I would learn I was limited to my thinking in a grander more evil way.

I know I am not alone in this feeling, on this day, as I am pretty sure even the elderly felt ripped of the innocence they had assumed they would exit this world with in tact.

9/11 changed everything.

Our American soil. Our thousands of people. Our city. Our hero's. Our planes. Our buildings. Our skylines. Our families. Our hearts. All cost by deliberate, well calculated evil.

It was hard for me to grasp as a social worker at that time who was on the front line trying to make a difference in the world, how in fact people would be so malicious towards a bunch of innocent people. I kept thinking of the young lives that had started their career that ended that day. The parents with young kids at home, some unborn, that didn't make it home. How, on this loving earth, could anyone dream of 2 American commercial jetliners crashing directly into two massive buildings. A place I had lived for years, and loved on with all of my heart. Two buildings I had weeks before stood in front of admiring their beauty and moved to take photos that would last in my dining room forever not for their beauty but for their legacy.

A few months ago I was blessed to go down to the memorial alone. I stood in the same spot that once held the large globe signifying its grounds. Instead of the beautiful buildings that once stood there, huge massive, beautiful crafted holes now are there. Holes that are filled to the brim with names. Names of people that were loved and cherished, and didn't deserve that day to be their last.

It is an honor to always be able to say I lived in New York City. My heart will hold it until the day comes that it is my last. My prayers today, while standing in the halls of my new social work job during a moment of silence, is may those grieving be lifted. May this day never be forgotten. May we see more love than evil.

I want to grow that innocence back for our country.

Feeling Blessed

Being a stay at home Mom is extremely challenging. It is hard to be Mom 24/7. It is hard to pour all of who you are into little people that have high needs of change me, feed me, hug me. It is hard to seek out who you truly are while being Mom all day everyday. Especially when you had a well defined self image prior to motherhood.

Two weeks in of being a working Mom I have already learned an abundance about who exactly I am. Many things I had forgotten about, and some I never knew.

What I didn't realize while being a stay at home Mom was that although I loved the time spent with my children, I was depressed. When I woke up to every day being the same, wearing the same yoga pants, listening to the same gossip, and filling up my time by the minute with things and people that sometimes didn't exactly matter much. I adore shedding the ability to be sucked in to high school momma drama (and MAN is there so much when you are home everyday being social). I love having limited time for things/people that matter. I love dressing up while missing my yoga pants for the weekend. I am spending a significantly less amount of money. And....yes! I have lost 5 pounds since working! Why? because I have no time to eat my day away or spend money on random bored trips to Target or the grocery store.

Obviously I get this is not what ALL stay at home Mom's do or feel, but for me it was a black hole I got stuck in for way, way to long. Ideally, looking back, I should've spent the first year with each child, and the time between worked. Seven years was just way to long when I had defined myself as a life learner, and career women for years and years prior. I truly forgot I could talk in a professional manner that had nothing to do with the color of baby poop. I forgot that people actually cared where I went for my graduate degrees, or worked, or lived. As Mom's we tend to only focus on that. Our conversations never wander to what makes us who we are other then our kids or our spouse. Hallelujah I am much much more then that. AND I FORGOT!

There will be days I will absolutely loathe going to work I am sure. Times I envy those sweet days of seeing friends with an open calendar. It is life. Although the grass is usually always greener on the other side--I got to say this field I am standing on is the best color green right now with just the right amount of light.

I have learned volumes--book worthy of information from being home for so long. I am so very grateful to my husband that let me take the time to love on our children. I am equally grateful for this new opportunity with a commute I could walk to, a job I actually am good at, a baby sitter that is AMAZING and an end of the day time of 2:45 so I am still able to enjoy my kids. I never ever miss my oldest getting off the bus! On so many levels this was the best decision we have made in a long long time.

It is a true blessing when you feel like all the stars are alined  and you are exactly where you are meant to be. It is also a blessing when the entire family has adjusted without any major challenges, and all seem equally as happy.

We are blessed.

The Shift: Stay At Home Mom 2 Working Mom

In my last month of pregnancy with  my oldest my doctor took me out of work early. I didn't mind because it meant no more commuter train in the morning where grown men in fancy suits never gave up their seats to a almost nine months pregnant women. In that last month I remember sleeping in late, making bacon in the morning, and watching all the morning talk shows in my pj's. I had envisioned that this was exactly like what stay at home moms do except a kid was playing quietly on the floor entertaining ones self. This would of course be, one of many, many things, I would soon be proven wrong by. You can't exactly tell new moms what the real deal of motherhood is until they are in the thick of it.

Rylan was born. He was so sick, and I was so worried. I resigned and became a stay at home mom. It looked nothing like sleeping in cooking bacon everyday. I was lucky if I got to watch the weather in between Baby Einstein's and Elmo. I thought I had it all under perfect control, and how could life be any different going from one child to two? I mean we would have the same schedule, and we would do the same things! Easy right?

Addison was born. I was so wrong. In my professional years at being a stay at home mom, that first year or two of balancing two kids all day long weren't only the hardest but the longest.

Sure we got to do some amazing things with amazing people. I got to grocery shop when nobody else was in the stores except for old cranky ladies that forgot what it was like to have two little ones shopping. We attended classes, and played in parks. We spend endless time with old friends and made new. Just when I pondered over how they were getting older and should I find my way back to my career, things changed.

Bennett was born. I so badly wanted to give him what I had given by other two. As we struggled with finances, because MAN does it cost you a ton to stay a home, I lived in the moment. I knew my time with him full-time would be limited. I can honestly say I have lived his first year literally drinking him in.

Seven years as a stay at home mom doesn't look great on a resume, although I think it should. It required a lot of skills jobs need! Micro management, communications, and keeping the boss(es) happy! I mean what other job requires changing diapers and determining what the boss ate beforehand? Who would have thought my phone would be ringing for interviews and that I would end up with more then one option.

I am a week into being a working mom.

I silently kicked and screamed all the way there. I was convinced my life would never change out of yoga pants, play dates, and cheerios in my purse.

What I didn't realize is becoming a working mom from a stay at home mom is similar to being an expecting parent to a new parent (or a parent of one becoming a parent of two). You can not "get it" until you "do it".

I am a social worker again in a middle school using skills I hadn't tapped into in almost a decade. Lucky for me it is like riding a bike. You know what the beauty of it for me is? I use my brain from those years in graduate school. People ask my professional opinion. I make a difference in someone elses life every singe day. I know what you are thinking--I was doing that last part when I was a stay at home mom with my kids--but doing it professionally is entirely different. At the end of the day I am exhausted, and I muster up what I can to give my three little ones. At the end of the day I pray it will get easier, and I won't feel so overwhelmed. At the end of the day I am so filled up with giving, doing, being my best, that I could burst.

I don't stop being a mom all day at the job either. As when you have a job working with kids, you are still using those loving maternal skills too. I miss my kids, but in those moments, other peoples kids need me too.

Dare I say I feel complete?

My passion for my careers, and my love of being a mom actually mesh perfectly together.

The shift isn't easy. I do miss yoga pants, grocery shopping with the old cranks, seeing my friends during the day, naps, Target, and occasionally sleeping in. I miss my kids too of course, but frankly at my new job I don't have time to even pee never mind worry about them or wallow in it. When I come home at night it is like a three ring circus trying to get ready for the next day. It is like hitting repeat-repeat-repeat- all the way until Friday night. Regardless of the struggle, I know it will get easier, and I know it is such a blessing to now have my career hat again.

Being a new working mom is much like being a new mom. Just like in those first 6 months of newborn/baby stage when you have those sleep deprived moments of what the hell did I just do-- I predict to have similar feelings in this change. However, knowing what seemed impossible then (like regular sleep patterns), I know, in time, it will only get better.

What I know for sure

You could have easily given up when I stuck in you friend zone after our first date. A jaded city girl that couldn't understand why a guy would open doors and wave down taxi's for a women. I plopped you in the category of "to nice" which always held friend zone in line.

How incredibly stupid could a young twenty something girl could be? "To nice" didn't add up to dateable? You still stood by for three years awaiting for me to wake up to the fact that it is the NICE guy you want to date and the not so nice that should be hurled into friend zone. I pray our daughter learns this early on.

If only I listened to my intuition first those few years. I ignored all those butterflies, and the feeling of not wanting to leave when we got to hang out. Then one day... I listened. Since, I haven't stopped.

The beauty of an uphill battle is when you reach the top to check out the summit and breathe in it's peaceful air, all of the climbing and hurt along the way becomes worth it. You were worth all of my bad mistakes before hand. The beauty of us is I haven't left the summit in 8 years! There isn't a day I don't feel loved and at peace.

Many thought we moved too fast. What they didn't consider was the years prior that we were in the making. I truly believed when we finally came together the heavens rejoiced. Mainly because I finally awoke, all the while you knew. You always knew.

You have spent many years loving me even when my multi-faceted personality gets extra vivid and colorful. You have made me laugh harder then anyone on this living earth has in my life time. You have encountered the world with a careless attitude of living every minute as you would like without caring about anyone elses opinion of you. You have honored the fact that I may not be the same women you married years ago because I in fact had three little lives come out of my body.

This year in particular made us stretch places in our relationship that we hadn't planned. The birth of our perfectly happy, giggly blessing that has made our family so incredibly complete. The wake of something horribly tragic in our community that made us have conversations as parents we never thought we would have to do. While, holding on to each other as a safety net during a time that was so incredibly dark, and so hard to seek light.

I can imagine living a day on this earth without you. Nor do I ever want you to live a day without knowing how amazing, loved, cherished you are. For every year that passes it doesn't get harder, it gets easier.

What I know for sure is... you were right from the start. I know we were God intended for one another. And the sweetest part of our relationship is where is begins for our love for Him. Nobody.... ever... will compare.

For the love of Dave Matthews.... we are in this crazy thing called life--together-forever.

Defined

We define ourselves so many things over time.

Along time ago I was a college student in Boston determined to never leave that city. A few years later I was young twenty something grad student living in NYC passionate about being a New Yorker for the rest of my life. I worked incredibly hard to define myself as a social worker in drug rehab that soon went back to school to become a teacher. I taught like my life depended on it in the Bronx. My paychecks helped define living as a single city girl would- filled with new outfits, endless amounts of Starbucks, and many nights of city outings. I saved not a dime. I lived freely and effortlessly in the city hustle and bustle. I did not own a drivers license until I was 25 years old.

Then I became a Mrs. in the suburbs. I became a Mom and broke up with my careers. I then became a blogger and survived on keeping my sanity in tact by writing instead of only interacting with "Ga Ga's and Goo Goo's". Most of the time I survived writing this ol' blog unshowered, with Cheerios stuck to my behind, and a kid wrapped in my arms. I was a Mom of two June bugs until my third came in August. As I grew into motherhood my need of blogging seemed to waver. I realized blogging for me is more of leisure now and not therapy. And so I gave up the ads that gave me a handsome $30 every year, and decided I no longer needed a company to define what me being a "blogger" meant.

A month or two ago I wouldn't have considered myself a current blogger as I hadn't done it actively in quite some time. A month a go I wouldn't have considered myself a social worker, a teacher, or a city chick either. Then life shifts and tosses you around to make you remember you are all of these things that you took pride in, it just looks different.

So here I am blogging.

Recently I became a Christian. Which seems funny to me to write because I was always a believer but never let a faith define me. I am well defined now. Since that moment doors have swung open that I had never anticipated before. Sad things have finally been closed, healed, and forgotten. And suddenly part of my definition is --dare I say-peaceful.

Coming up this September I am making the move from stay at home Mom to working Mom. The beauty is I am teaching at a place that not only includes God, but also care for two out of my three kids. Daycare AND Preschool are included and I could not say no.

And so I start on a new journey of taking who I have been and using to help the future me be the best I can.

I may not be a student any longer or a city girl. However those two former parts of who I am absolutely have made me the Mrs., Mom, social worker, teacher, blogger, Christian, suburb living Aimee I am today.

After all, we are defined by what we allow ourselves to be defined as.

Over The Top

I had everything planned out thanks to Pinterest. Everything was so detailed oriented and well thought out. I knew this would be seemingly over the top when it came to the little things I was investing in. One being, the time I was taking to hot glue gun red roses to a paper yellow table cloth. However, I knew what would be returned to me as payment for it.

Addison turned 4 yesterday. The baby I once thought I would never have. The one I wrote on this blog countless of times about longing to have her. It is hard to believe it was four years ago!

Addison loves Beauty and the Beast. Naturally this was the theme this year. I made the enchanted rose, Lumiere the candle, the clock, Mrs. Pots, Chip, and of course this grand table cloth. When she saw it pulled together she squealed saying "Thank You Mom. This is the best birthday ever. I love you". Yes, that is payment.

While I was setting up for her big day filled with littler friends, a wave of emotion came over me. I could not help but think of the homes in the town over that was once filled with this type of payment, that are now silent on their birthdays. Almost six months later, the raw reality and pain of the Newtown community and it's surrounding towns, continues to bellow in such unexpected places. Here I was about to host my joyous 4 years olds party and I was weeping. Crying for those others Mom's who no longer hold these moments with their child taken from them so violently.

I was thinking about sweet Joey Gay who was supposed to be celebrating her 7th birthday the day after she died. I couldn't help but think about what efforts her parents had done for preparing for a great party. I couldn't help but think of how they unknowingly didn't expect they wouldn't see that memory follow through not only for their daughter, but for their daughter's classmates.

During the party I kept thinking about the future and what it might hold for her and her little friends. When her first grade brother came home from school early to take part in his sisters birthday, she beamed. He beamed. I just couldn't help but say in my head "Thank you God for this moment".

This is what happens when you live in a community stricken by such horror and grief. The world goes on having millions of kids party's unaware of the precious payment of smiles and thank yous from their kids. And we literally stop in our tracks, riding the wave of sadness, thinking I better take this in. Parents here are still talking about putting their kids on buses worried about not seeing them again. Police cars are still patrolling our schools. Instead of huge shrines on the corner streets of Newtown people are now whispering in grocery markets, and grieving at home. It may look like the community has moved on, but it couldn't be farthest from the truth. You don't forget with 20 first graders were murdered at their school 6 months ago. You just don't.

I didn't imagine when I was pinning Beauty and the Beast birthday ideas that it would bring be to this place. A place of wonderment, sadness, and sincere empathy. Could those parents spent their spare minutes on Pinterest pinning their hopes and dreams for their kids parties, crafts, teacher gifts etc. ? So when someone tells me I went over the top in hot glue gunning red roses to a table cloth, my answer is "good. It was meant to be".

I am trying to live over the top in love.

Love wins. Still. Always. Forever.

Ever

I keep imagining the day when the police car roaming the elementary school parking feels normal. Will it ever? And should it? For as thankful that I am that they are there, I also feel the pit in my stomach reliving over and over what just happened in the community one town over. Every day I drop my daughter off to preschool I feel like vomiting. Every morning I wave to my son as he gets on the bus I pray it won't be my last memory of him. This is our reality in this are of Connecticut, while the rest of the nation seemingly fights over political stances on gun control.

Quickly I am learning that there will never be a day our community forgets. Ever. The difference is the rest of the world that does not have a direct impact has stopped talking about it, while we are still grieving. Never in a million years would I have imagined this would take place here, and so other naive people continue to think that way about their own places they call home.

While shopping at my local Trader Joes I couldn't stop thinking about Lauren Rousseau and the latte she made me weeks before the end of her life came. A sweet smiling Starbucks barista made me a latte' while on my way to go Christmas shopping, and days later she was taken from this earth while trying to save children. How will I ever not think of her when returning there?

I watched Katie Couric's show "Katie" about the aftermath of Newtown. I hear sweet Ann's Mom talk about her child who loved to dance inside the stores at the local mall. My local mall.

I see a sweet picture of sweet little Jessica on Facebook getting a pedicure. A pedicure at the same place I frequent.

I visit Addison's old preschool she attended last year that lost a number of alumni that day. All I can think about is their laughs that used to fill the walls, and how trusting their parents once were to leaving their kids to responsible adults fully expecting to always pick them up again alive and well-forever.

The list goes on and on and on.

I do not even live in Newtown and this is the impact this has had on my life. A daily, breathing, heartbreaking, impact. Imagine how those that live in that town feel?

When the 26 random acts of kindness came out and the nation chimed in playing, it seemed up-lifting. However, part of me knew that it was a matter of time that this fade to would die out. When you aren't living it and breathing it, you move on. During the height of it I participated by buying some nice unassuming Starbucks customer their order. I did this with the intention of thinking about sweet Lauren who made my latte weeks ago. I did it without any expectation other then giving love. Moving forward that is all I could think to do...pour unassuming love everywhere. And so I did.

I don't always have gleaming redeeming qualities about me or my nature. But the one thing I am confident in is that I am a giver. I am a giver to the point that often it becomes harmful to me. I have always enjoyed making others feel good, even if it was at my own expense sometimes. I always thought of this as negative quality to carry with me. After 12/14 I realized it is in fact one of endearment, and I have since embraced it.

Today while driving through my local Starbucks to get my latte things took an unexpected spin. This is not the Starbucks Lauren worked at, but the one I frequent, and the one I now know to give a proper good morning to each and every barista. I wonder if I was kind that day to Lauren. I wish I would've tipped her. I wish I took the time to tell her how I enjoyed her smile.

Today my Starbucks random act of kindness was returned to me. As I pulled up and greated my normal baristas with a good morning, they smiled. "The car in front of you paid". I could not help but get choked up. I was on my way to drop off Addison to the school being surveillanced by local police, and I could not stop weeping. She asked what was wrong with me. I assured her I was happy and that people in the world can be very, very kind.

I am usually the giver. I never in million years expected to be the receiver. Ever.

I will never stop pouring love. Ever.

Yes It Does

Love Wins Forever

His smile now beams, and goo goo's are now rising and falling as he learns the power of his own voice.  Funny. Lately, I am feeling as if I am re-learning that same lesson all over again. Voices have power. Voice have meaning.

My littlest of three turns six months old by the weeks end. He is beyond a blessing. He is is contagious, and beautiful, and everything that encompasses sweet in the world. He makes me want to be a better Mom, a better person. I am sure my little man will wonder some day where is his monthly pictures on this blog, why didn't I focus on printing every giggle, and milestone on here for him when I did it for my others. The fact of the matter is, my priorities shifted. And by the third baby I finally got it right.

My dearest Bennett. You matter. I'm sorry you may read this blog and not find a million posts on your sweet soul, but Mommy is drinking you in. My focus is on living the moments instead of running to the computer to write about them. I am guilty however, of the millions of photos I have uploaded to Facebook of  you to capture some type of momentum. I want to share you with the world, just in a different way. The treasure you have given me in the world could not be justified by a blog stating you just popped a tooth, or rolled over. When I write about you, and of your siblings, I want it to resonate in peoples souls on how much you all mean to me. I want the time of mere posting what you are currently eating, to be spent feeding you.

Life goes by way to quickly to not measure the moments in being present.

I keep kissing your neck beneath the rolls and listen to you giggle. I count my blessings. You rub your face against mine in comfort. I count my blessings. You smile widely first thing, every single morning, making me feel as if I am the only one that matters. I count my blessings.

For every time I drink you in I think of those babies that left this world to soon. Your first Valentines day holds a sacred day for us in this area, as it is also the two month anniversary of a horrible tragedy. I imagine those Mom and Dad's who lost their kids also treasured them, as I treasure you. I imagine they kissed those babies beneath their neck rolls to make them giggle as babies too. For this it makes me realize how important it is to treasure you and your siblings. It wakes me up to how I treat others, and aware of the type of energy I put forth in the world. In my last breaths on this planet I want to be remembered as a good person. I want to be remembered being the best Mom I possibly could be. I want my friends and family to feel like I gave them my all.

So in these moments that you are exercising your right to make sound, so am I. As I will not ever stop trying to protect you and all of the other kids that deserve a safe education and a right to live. For just as you favorite song states: "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine".

I will protect and treasure every moment granted to me to watch your light, and your siblings light shine.

Love wins.
Forever.

1 Month

I was elbow in green cookie dough. It was the best I could do. I can't heal hearts- I wish I could. All I could do now is fill bellies with sweets and hope that it provides a moment of comfort. 80 cookies later-most of which going to a bake sale for my husbands work in honor of one of those sweet angels--I am still wondering how this happened here. Wondering why. 80 Sandy Hook Minty's later and there isn't an answer. 80 years from now I am sure there will be no clarity.

There hasn't be one single night-NOT ONE in a month-that I haven't sat in bed thinking over and over again what happened that day. My brain is trying to process something that is not easy or even possible to process. I keep stumbling upon the same question in my head: Why? Very blessed moment I have spent alone since that day-I sit in silence wondering the same question, over and over and over again.

I am usually one that can pray with ease. This time, for a month now, I have been unable to even put together a mere sentence in prayer that makes sense or provides such pleading need as I feel. I know God gets it regardless, but I just end up asking Him to walk with us, and heal the town over from me. To cover them with love for the rest of their journey on this earth. It will take just that for them to heal. An entire life.

I did what I could today in the wake of this horrible tragedy to spill love all over it. Cookies, food, hugs, stories, prayer while breathing Sandy Hook air. I even tried to get myself to bring cookies to the officer on duty at the Sandy Hook Elementary School, however I couldn't muster up the courage. My brain and my heart need boundaries, and I just couldn't get myself to that space. I did, however, do what I could do. Actions speak louder then words. Love speaks louder then hate. And light always beats darkness.

Today while driving through Newtown the site of a banner hanging on a bridge nearly took my breath away. A banner sent for Tuscon Arizona. When I drove toward it I thought it was a wonderful sentiment, and then driving beneath it--breathless. Thousands of signatures spreading love.

The world shifted a month ago. Mainly for the community of Newtown who continues to ache as it happened just yesterday. Trying, fighting for a new normal when nothing is normal. The world shifted for those communities surrounding that community. For those of us with first graders. For this great country that stands for so many great things, but still needs to implement laws to protect our future. The world shifted and sent love.

Many of us are in it for the long haul. Not just a month out, or any other major anniversary. I am in it for the daily need for prayers. The daily need to tousle my first graders head and be thankful for his life. The daily need to love others and set our ego aside. The daily need to love on this community next door until the day I die.

Tonight I am going to consciously go to sleep not focusing on the why--but the what now. Living life with kindness and love like my life depended on it--because the answer to the why--is: It does.

My 6yr Old Made Me A Mom

My six year old is what made me a Mom. Prior to him, I loved children, but had no idea what birthing one could do to ones definition of love. The love I once knew prior to motherhood sort of exploded on the day he was born.

There hasn't been a night since December 14th that I haven't went over in my head what happened at Sandy Hook. There hasn't been a night I haven't awaken from nightmares or spooked from my own shadow in the dark. The first week out I nearly slept with the light on. My mind loops through classrooms I substitute in and places to hide kids, to Rylan's first grade classroom being the first classroom in, to the fear of those teachers that day, to the fear of those kids, to the mental state of the killer, to the fact this REALLY happened miles from my house, to my dear friends and acquaintances in Newtown, to all of the connections to the victims. One of which, a teacher, made my coffee weeks prior at s local Starbucks.

I wake up everyday holding my 4 month old and thinking about when Rylan was 4 months old. Doesn't seem so long ago when his baby brother is wearing his outfits. I think about what Bennett will be like when he is six. And then, almost daily, it smacks me in the face--this simple thought--all of those parents of those 20 angels the same age as my kid that made me a Mom-- they hugged their babies too. They dreamed bright futures. They trusted this world to protect them. And now they are stuck with memories.

6/7 years of memories just aren't enough.

Every night Rylan has been waking up with nightmares. For as much as I want to go back to sleep, I keep thinking about those parents that don't have the luxury of calming their child back to sleep. The empty bed. The smell of their child getting weaker. And it just makes me hold my six year old closer.

My kids are probably sick of their Mom telling them "I love you" every five seconds. They are probably also confused on why I am nearly in tears every time I drop them off before school. Now our reality as parents is wondering "could this be the last moment I see them".

Today I joined many in prayer for the Sandy Hook community as they go back to school. As a parent, as a teacher, I just can not imagine the bravery this takes. I get that we must move forward. I get that the world can not stop. However, some things bother me. Like the feeling like every day that goes by it is less in the forefront of our countries mind. People not from this area have literally said to me they don't want to talk about it any longer! It hasn't even been a MONTH! The signature flag pole in Newtown is already changed from half mast. And I can't help but want to say--SLOW DOWN.

I have smiled since. I have laughed since. I have loved on my children a whole lot more since. However, for me I am changed forever. All because my six year old made me a Mom. I will never be the same Mom again. Nor will I be the same teacher, social worker, friend, family member, citizen.

I will never forget. I will never stop praying for Newtown. I will always choose love.