Does my mother know how much I love her? Do mothers everywhere know how much they are appreciated? Probably not. After working long hours that only end when her weary head is the last person's to hit the pillow at night; after countless selfless acts for everyone else with no reciprocation; after keeping an entire family together by taking everything onto herself--it can seem more like a job than a blessing. It wasn't until I became a mother myself that I began to understand the selfless love she has for me.
What my mother doesn't know is that I watch her every move. I pay attention to the way she handles all conflict with a firm but understanding demeanor. I notice every time her face furrows in concentration as she tries to solve the never ending problems of her children. I can sense the frustration of a woman who is constantly asked for advice that so often falls on deaf ears.
What my mother doesn't know is that I listen to her every word. I see the excitement that shines brightly in her eyes when she shares a funny story or tells a terrible joke. I see the panic in her eyes when she realizes she forgot one of the many million things she must remember to do in a day. I see the love in her eyes as she gets a rare opportunity to hold one of her children or relive a moment through her grandchildren.
What my mother doesn't know is that I see how she keeps our family together. I see how the house is only cleaned by the touch of her hand. I know that her household is only fed and in clean clothes because she gives up every free moment to care for them. I see her exhaustion as she runs from one event to the next errand only to recieve the next request.
And what my mother doesn't know is that I want to be just like her. I think of her in my daily chores, in the discipline of my children, in the wee hours of the morning when I feed my daughter. I think of the sacrifices she made for me and all the little things she has done for me that she thinks I haven't noticed. I want to tell her, but because I am a mother I will forever be too busy, too stretched, too under-appreciated, and too tired to find the time. So I will continue to pray for my angel on Earth--my mother,
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Support Hose
Why do we find the catastrophe in the smallest events? My husband just realized tonight that we bought and stained the wrong trim to the basement we're refinishing--a $400 mistake. He is furious and dramatic about the whole situation. I say slap on the wrong trim and be done with it--who will know? It is easy for me to sit back and judge him for his oversensitivity to what seems like a minor thing to me, but I know that when my small event becomes a catastrophe it isn't quite as easy.
Take, for example, an instance in college where I lost a paper I had been slaving away at for hours. I did not save it (of course) until the end when my only job was to email it to the professor. I thought I had saved it, but I did not do it correctly. I remember the blood draining from my face and my stomach crashing into my ovaries. The paper was due in 30minutes (which I could have done earlier but will forever be a procrastinator), and now I had nothing to show for it. I recall my husband, Albert, and my very dear friend, Lauren, offering words of comfort. I also recall lashing out towards them in a very harsh tone. Lauren was deeply hurt and Albert was stunned to see such a side of me. I contacted my professor, explained what happened, and he gave me an extension--very simple and easy end to my problem. But my problem was not a lost paper--it was now two potentially severed friendships. Albert and Lauren forgave me, but it was a while before our friendships could be as they were before.
This type of over-reaction is such a poisonous way to deal with adversity. When we can no longer step outside of the situation, but instead escalate it, we find our burnt toast is now a forest fire that we created. And this type of poison affects everyone around us. My husband's now bad mood makes me apathetic towards his distress. This only makes him furious with me, adding to the fire. And now he is sleeping in the guest room (which I don't recommend by the way). And what should I do?
I shall love him. I shall forgive him as he did for me, all those years ago. I shall support him by giving him the space he needs to calm down and realize that its just burnt toast. I shall be the truly selfless wife who commiserates with her husband so he will feel better. When he understands that his hurt is my hurt, we can work towards a calm, rational, positive solution. For now, I will let him feel that the world is ending because I know how that feels. I will leave him alone to work out his frustations so that he doesn't take them out on me. I will do this with the confidence and faith that he would show me the same respect.
My marriage vows are as clear to me today as they were nearly three years ago and I take them very seriously. It's my turn to be the support hose--to lift up all the heaviness, control all the chaos, and make him feel better about himself. In a marriage, every day isn't sunshine and roses. Sometimes its the dirty diaper you find under your couch that you have no idea how it got there. But even in the worst of times, and I truly hope the wrong trim is the worst of times, we must say "yes" to God's call to be a wife, a lover, and a friend.
Take, for example, an instance in college where I lost a paper I had been slaving away at for hours. I did not save it (of course) until the end when my only job was to email it to the professor. I thought I had saved it, but I did not do it correctly. I remember the blood draining from my face and my stomach crashing into my ovaries. The paper was due in 30minutes (which I could have done earlier but will forever be a procrastinator), and now I had nothing to show for it. I recall my husband, Albert, and my very dear friend, Lauren, offering words of comfort. I also recall lashing out towards them in a very harsh tone. Lauren was deeply hurt and Albert was stunned to see such a side of me. I contacted my professor, explained what happened, and he gave me an extension--very simple and easy end to my problem. But my problem was not a lost paper--it was now two potentially severed friendships. Albert and Lauren forgave me, but it was a while before our friendships could be as they were before.
This type of over-reaction is such a poisonous way to deal with adversity. When we can no longer step outside of the situation, but instead escalate it, we find our burnt toast is now a forest fire that we created. And this type of poison affects everyone around us. My husband's now bad mood makes me apathetic towards his distress. This only makes him furious with me, adding to the fire. And now he is sleeping in the guest room (which I don't recommend by the way). And what should I do?
I shall love him. I shall forgive him as he did for me, all those years ago. I shall support him by giving him the space he needs to calm down and realize that its just burnt toast. I shall be the truly selfless wife who commiserates with her husband so he will feel better. When he understands that his hurt is my hurt, we can work towards a calm, rational, positive solution. For now, I will let him feel that the world is ending because I know how that feels. I will leave him alone to work out his frustations so that he doesn't take them out on me. I will do this with the confidence and faith that he would show me the same respect.
My marriage vows are as clear to me today as they were nearly three years ago and I take them very seriously. It's my turn to be the support hose--to lift up all the heaviness, control all the chaos, and make him feel better about himself. In a marriage, every day isn't sunshine and roses. Sometimes its the dirty diaper you find under your couch that you have no idea how it got there. But even in the worst of times, and I truly hope the wrong trim is the worst of times, we must say "yes" to God's call to be a wife, a lover, and a friend.
To Chad
A friend of my mother's just lost her 16 year old son yesterday unexpectedly in a car accident. I did not know the son, but a tragedy like that is felt by all. I hope that I never have to experience the loss of a child, but I know that suffering does not choose a race, class, or religion. Here is what I would imagine a mother would say to her child (I'm using Chad as a template).
"Please come back. Let me hold you in my arms one last time. Let me rest my cheek on your forehead and sing to you softly. Allow me to kiss away all your tears and take every pain onto myself. Call me "Mama" one more time. I will give everything right now for this single moment.
Did I tell you "I love you" enough? Did I tell you what a strong person you've become? Did I tell you I was proud of you? Did I tell you that I knew about the secrets you kept? Did I encourage you enough to inspire you to reach for your dreams? Did you know that I sneaked into your room nearly every night just to watch you sleep?
I remember the ecstacy of finding out I was carrying you inside me. I remember the first kick, the first flip, the first hiccup felt inside my womb. I remember looking into your eyes for the first time and seeing an entire world suddenly changing for the better. I remember nursing you close to my breast as you held tightly to my shirt. I remember your first word, your first step, your first day of school. Every picture you ever drew for me is fresh in my mind. How I loved every present you ever made for me!
I saw how insecure you felt about yourself. I long to have back the night we practiced dancing in the living room, preparing for your first dance, your first date, your first love. I could see the person you were becoming, blossoming before my eyes. Every conversation we had, left me in awe of the truly magnificant person I have raised. Every affectionate moment was savored, knowing that they were growing fewer and farther between.
Did you think of me? Were you scared? In pain? I hope it was quick and I hope you simply woke up in God's arms, not even realizing what had happened. I hope you are at peace, not aching to be with me. Knowing that you are safe and contented in God's kingdom somehow makes this easier, but not less painful.
If I could go back only one day, I would never let you go. Death would have to take me with you because I could not give up my child. I cannot imagine a world without you. I cannot imagine waking up day after day, knowing that there is one less bright light to inspire. When will this heaviness lighten?
Oh, my dear child! Please come back to me. Let me hold you in my arms one last time. Let me rest my cheek on your forehead and sing to you softly. Allow me to kiss away all your tears and take every pain onto myself. Call me "Mama" one more time. I will give everything right now for this single moment."
"Please come back. Let me hold you in my arms one last time. Let me rest my cheek on your forehead and sing to you softly. Allow me to kiss away all your tears and take every pain onto myself. Call me "Mama" one more time. I will give everything right now for this single moment.
Did I tell you "I love you" enough? Did I tell you what a strong person you've become? Did I tell you I was proud of you? Did I tell you that I knew about the secrets you kept? Did I encourage you enough to inspire you to reach for your dreams? Did you know that I sneaked into your room nearly every night just to watch you sleep?
I remember the ecstacy of finding out I was carrying you inside me. I remember the first kick, the first flip, the first hiccup felt inside my womb. I remember looking into your eyes for the first time and seeing an entire world suddenly changing for the better. I remember nursing you close to my breast as you held tightly to my shirt. I remember your first word, your first step, your first day of school. Every picture you ever drew for me is fresh in my mind. How I loved every present you ever made for me!
I saw how insecure you felt about yourself. I long to have back the night we practiced dancing in the living room, preparing for your first dance, your first date, your first love. I could see the person you were becoming, blossoming before my eyes. Every conversation we had, left me in awe of the truly magnificant person I have raised. Every affectionate moment was savored, knowing that they were growing fewer and farther between.
Did you think of me? Were you scared? In pain? I hope it was quick and I hope you simply woke up in God's arms, not even realizing what had happened. I hope you are at peace, not aching to be with me. Knowing that you are safe and contented in God's kingdom somehow makes this easier, but not less painful.
If I could go back only one day, I would never let you go. Death would have to take me with you because I could not give up my child. I cannot imagine a world without you. I cannot imagine waking up day after day, knowing that there is one less bright light to inspire. When will this heaviness lighten?
Oh, my dear child! Please come back to me. Let me hold you in my arms one last time. Let me rest my cheek on your forehead and sing to you softly. Allow me to kiss away all your tears and take every pain onto myself. Call me "Mama" one more time. I will give everything right now for this single moment."
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
A Good-bye Letter
Good-bye dear friend. You have been there for me through many years and many hardships, through unspeakable tragedies and unforgettable celebrations. You were solice when I felt hopeless, exuberance when I was overjoyed, and comfort when I was bored. You shaped who I am today. You altered the perception of myself to others around me. You have stayed with me from childhood and accompanied me over the threshold into adulthood.
I must sever the ties. You have tricked me time and time again into thinking you were a necessary part of my life. I always enjoy our time together, but after you leave, I am always sad, regretful, and feel terrible about myself. I swear that the next time we meet I will be able to resist your charms, but we both know that I am powerless. The only way to overcome this unhealthy relationship is to end it. A clean break is the healthiest way to say "no."
You will find someone else. There are a million weak people out there who are looking for a way to fill a void in their lives. I am no longer one of them. You may even emerge stronger than before, but I hope not. I hope you die with the helplessness that I no longer feel. I am stronger now because I know how to treat myself better. I am in love with my husband, my children, my future, and the Lord. I won't jeopardize my life for a few fleeting seconds of bliss.
So, Good-bye old friend. I hope to never see you around again. Cross the street when you see me coming because I will demolish you and your hold on me. I am stronger than you and your empty promises.
Stronger Without You,
Jennifer
I must sever the ties. You have tricked me time and time again into thinking you were a necessary part of my life. I always enjoy our time together, but after you leave, I am always sad, regretful, and feel terrible about myself. I swear that the next time we meet I will be able to resist your charms, but we both know that I am powerless. The only way to overcome this unhealthy relationship is to end it. A clean break is the healthiest way to say "no."
You will find someone else. There are a million weak people out there who are looking for a way to fill a void in their lives. I am no longer one of them. You may even emerge stronger than before, but I hope not. I hope you die with the helplessness that I no longer feel. I am stronger now because I know how to treat myself better. I am in love with my husband, my children, my future, and the Lord. I won't jeopardize my life for a few fleeting seconds of bliss.
So, Good-bye old friend. I hope to never see you around again. Cross the street when you see me coming because I will demolish you and your hold on me. I am stronger than you and your empty promises.
Stronger Without You,
Jennifer
Captivity
I feel trapped by my children. There, I said it. I long for the days when I could go to the store on my own. I don't miss going out with my friends for a beer near as much as I miss going to the gas station on my own and being able to walk in and get a soda. Some days are just a steady stream of crying. When my 2 month old stops crying, my 18 month old decides its his turn. The only break from that is when they cry together, and let me tell you, that is truly agonizing.
The most helpless I feel is when we are driving in the car. How do you discipline a year and a half year old? It is more of a punishment to me to pull over somewhere, get him out of his car seat, spank him, put him back in his car seat, and get back on the road. How do you console a tiny baby who just wants to be held? This only makes the 18month old just as upset b/c the crying can be so . . . so . . .well, like my husband and I say, she sounds like a witch being boiled in oil when she cries. How would you feel?
Changing diapers is more frequent than breathing. I feel like I could qualify for the Olympic sport of diaper changing--both in amount and speed! It is easier to give my son 2-3 showers a day than it is to clean him up after he is done eating yogurt, or BBQ sauce, or on those special days, both!
Captivity is a funny thing. When you are the one being held, you long for freedom, but once you are free, you long for the security of captivity. Look at our founding fathers. They demanded freedom from the British, a "captivity" that was smothering their liberties. Once we achieved that coveted break from bondage, we established rules that must be followed lest we face consequences. Isn't that another form of captivity?
Perhaps not. Perhaps before my children, I was a slave--a slave to my own selfish desires. I lived my life with the most important person being me. Perhaps I was a slave to myself for so long, that freedom looked like captivity.
I think of my son rocking gently in my arms. I think of his newest trick of trying to look like he is sleeping while slyly peeking out under his beautiful lashes with a large grin on his face. I think of his attempt at magic tricks, the new words he learns every day, his ability to work the DVD player to watch the only movie he cares about--Cars. I melt when he gives his most wonderful kisses and when he tries to console his sister.
I think of my daughter smiling like she won the lottery when someone coos at her. I think of her craddled, softly in my arms as she naps contently. I think of her little voice trying to mimic my every word. I remember carrying her in my womb every time she draws her feet up to her stomach. I unabashedly give her kisses sleeping, awake, crying . . .
What a beautiful way to be set free! I am free from myself to serve a greater purpose--being a mother.
The most helpless I feel is when we are driving in the car. How do you discipline a year and a half year old? It is more of a punishment to me to pull over somewhere, get him out of his car seat, spank him, put him back in his car seat, and get back on the road. How do you console a tiny baby who just wants to be held? This only makes the 18month old just as upset b/c the crying can be so . . . so . . .well, like my husband and I say, she sounds like a witch being boiled in oil when she cries. How would you feel?
Changing diapers is more frequent than breathing. I feel like I could qualify for the Olympic sport of diaper changing--both in amount and speed! It is easier to give my son 2-3 showers a day than it is to clean him up after he is done eating yogurt, or BBQ sauce, or on those special days, both!
Captivity is a funny thing. When you are the one being held, you long for freedom, but once you are free, you long for the security of captivity. Look at our founding fathers. They demanded freedom from the British, a "captivity" that was smothering their liberties. Once we achieved that coveted break from bondage, we established rules that must be followed lest we face consequences. Isn't that another form of captivity?
Perhaps not. Perhaps before my children, I was a slave--a slave to my own selfish desires. I lived my life with the most important person being me. Perhaps I was a slave to myself for so long, that freedom looked like captivity.
I think of my son rocking gently in my arms. I think of his newest trick of trying to look like he is sleeping while slyly peeking out under his beautiful lashes with a large grin on his face. I think of his attempt at magic tricks, the new words he learns every day, his ability to work the DVD player to watch the only movie he cares about--Cars. I melt when he gives his most wonderful kisses and when he tries to console his sister.
I think of my daughter smiling like she won the lottery when someone coos at her. I think of her craddled, softly in my arms as she naps contently. I think of her little voice trying to mimic my every word. I remember carrying her in my womb every time she draws her feet up to her stomach. I unabashedly give her kisses sleeping, awake, crying . . .
What a beautiful way to be set free! I am free from myself to serve a greater purpose--being a mother.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Prince Charming
I am disgusted with romance books and movies. I am disgusted with women telling other women and teenage girls that Prince Charming doesn't exist. Movies make the principal character seem flawless, but do you think he doesn't have to light a match once in a while after he leaves the bathroom? Don't you think even the most chivelrous of characters track mud through the house for the princess to clean up? Perfection sometimes picks his nose when he thinks you're not looking. But those flaws are trivial compared to the truly "charming" nature of a real prince.
There are happy endings! Sometimes our fairytales are in unexpected people. My husband, Albert, was hand-picked for me by God, and I truly believe that. When I first met him, I wasn't instantly in love, but a month later I was head-over-heels. I remember thinking how annoying I found him, even though I also thought he was very attractive. It took me looking beneath the surface to find the truly exceptional husband I have today. And what makes him so exceptional? He loves every part of me. He values me as a person. He NEVER puts me down, never insults, never belittles, never asks me to change. He also leads me closer to God, and that, my dear friends, is the most important quality a "prince charming" can have.
When you agree to marry someone, it is not simply a contract. It is a covenant between 3 people--you, your husband, and God. Just because you can picture yourself marrying someone, doesn't mean he is the right someone for you. Can you also picture yourself divorcing that same person? I may be so upset with Albert at times that the thought of divorce crosses my mind, but upon that reflection, a deep and overwhelming sadness floods my very being. There is no sense of freedom or contentment with the thought of losing Albert.
I have dated, boys really, before and have thought with each of them that I could never find anyone better. But in thinking that way, I was settling. I believed all the lies that Prince Charming wasn't coming to save me. I believed that I wasn't worthy of the happiness others had. I thought that love must be dramatic or else I would be bored. Ha! Jokes on me! Even the most perfect of relationships have plenty of drama, and I can tell you with the most sincere honesty that WE will never be bored.
Another lie told to many if us is that we should live together before marriage to see if it will work. Ladies, huge mistake! You can't give it an honest try without the bond of marriage. Once you are married, you don't go back. You work harder to make things work. It's like babysitting for someone else's kids and deciding you don't want children. Any parent can tell you it is a much different experience when its your own. You don't have the option of giving the child back--you have to make it work, which makes parenting your own child much more successful than a trial run with someone else's kids.
The final lie that is the most dangerous of all lies is sex before marriage. Many people become instantly offended when you tell them that what they're doing is wrong. I know some may think I am old-fashioned, but we will see who is still happily married in 20 years. Sex should be between a husband, wife, and God. It is a renewal of your marriage vows every time. When you are in a relationship, you should be doing everything you can to get the other person to Heaven. If youre having sex before marriage, you are putting lust in front of that person's salvation. I am not saying you will go to Hell, because I don't know, but why would you want to risk that other person's soul (and your own) for moments of pleasure that mean nothing without God's presence? I have fallen into temptation and I know where it leads--to the lie that fairytales do not come true.
Thank you, Albert, for loving me before you even knew me. Thank you for waiting to experience a love that is so holy and pure. I am sad that some people think virginity is a dirty word. Don't be fooled by the lies. I don't want anyone to read this and be filled with hate. I often find the only people who are offended by such thoughts are those who have believed nightmares are reality.
Prince Charming IS real. I married him. And there are many princes out there, just be patient.
There are happy endings! Sometimes our fairytales are in unexpected people. My husband, Albert, was hand-picked for me by God, and I truly believe that. When I first met him, I wasn't instantly in love, but a month later I was head-over-heels. I remember thinking how annoying I found him, even though I also thought he was very attractive. It took me looking beneath the surface to find the truly exceptional husband I have today. And what makes him so exceptional? He loves every part of me. He values me as a person. He NEVER puts me down, never insults, never belittles, never asks me to change. He also leads me closer to God, and that, my dear friends, is the most important quality a "prince charming" can have.
When you agree to marry someone, it is not simply a contract. It is a covenant between 3 people--you, your husband, and God. Just because you can picture yourself marrying someone, doesn't mean he is the right someone for you. Can you also picture yourself divorcing that same person? I may be so upset with Albert at times that the thought of divorce crosses my mind, but upon that reflection, a deep and overwhelming sadness floods my very being. There is no sense of freedom or contentment with the thought of losing Albert.
I have dated, boys really, before and have thought with each of them that I could never find anyone better. But in thinking that way, I was settling. I believed all the lies that Prince Charming wasn't coming to save me. I believed that I wasn't worthy of the happiness others had. I thought that love must be dramatic or else I would be bored. Ha! Jokes on me! Even the most perfect of relationships have plenty of drama, and I can tell you with the most sincere honesty that WE will never be bored.
Another lie told to many if us is that we should live together before marriage to see if it will work. Ladies, huge mistake! You can't give it an honest try without the bond of marriage. Once you are married, you don't go back. You work harder to make things work. It's like babysitting for someone else's kids and deciding you don't want children. Any parent can tell you it is a much different experience when its your own. You don't have the option of giving the child back--you have to make it work, which makes parenting your own child much more successful than a trial run with someone else's kids.
The final lie that is the most dangerous of all lies is sex before marriage. Many people become instantly offended when you tell them that what they're doing is wrong. I know some may think I am old-fashioned, but we will see who is still happily married in 20 years. Sex should be between a husband, wife, and God. It is a renewal of your marriage vows every time. When you are in a relationship, you should be doing everything you can to get the other person to Heaven. If youre having sex before marriage, you are putting lust in front of that person's salvation. I am not saying you will go to Hell, because I don't know, but why would you want to risk that other person's soul (and your own) for moments of pleasure that mean nothing without God's presence? I have fallen into temptation and I know where it leads--to the lie that fairytales do not come true.
Thank you, Albert, for loving me before you even knew me. Thank you for waiting to experience a love that is so holy and pure. I am sad that some people think virginity is a dirty word. Don't be fooled by the lies. I don't want anyone to read this and be filled with hate. I often find the only people who are offended by such thoughts are those who have believed nightmares are reality.
Prince Charming IS real. I married him. And there are many princes out there, just be patient.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Restless
I want a new job.
I love being a nurse more than anything! I think it is the most noble job on the face of the earth. It takes so much knowledge and skill combined with a true sense of compassion for others to be able to do such a job. I guess I should say "career."
I want a new job.
I love Barnes Jewish St. Peter's Hospital! It is the only place I have ever worked as a nurse. The atmosphere is very family-esque. I know most everyone who wroks there. I was promoted to a charge nurse almost immediately after I got out of orientation as a staff nurse. I have loved being charge, but am ready for a change, so I have resigned. Now I will return to work as a staff nurse.
I want a new job.
Why would I return to work into a lesser paying position? Well, I have held the same position for 3 years. My heart is no longer in that role and I think it is time for someone else to have the opportunity to lead. It would be selfish of me to stay in a role I dont want for a measely $1 more an hour.
I want a new job.
I think my personality and skills are better served in a managerial/leadership/education role. Some may think I do not have enough nursing experience to persue such a role, but I have much more than most nurses my age. There are no positions open at the hospital I love.
I want a new job.
Christian Hospital and Progress West have jobs that I think I would be suited for. I am scared to apply. It is a scary thing to leave the home you love in pursuit of different dreams. If I dont apply a really great opportunity could pass me by. It could be months or years before a job opens up at BJSPH. If I do apply, I will have to start over, meet new people, I may hate it. I may love it. The hours may be awful. The hours may be great. Decisions, decisions.
I want a new job . . .
I love being a nurse more than anything! I think it is the most noble job on the face of the earth. It takes so much knowledge and skill combined with a true sense of compassion for others to be able to do such a job. I guess I should say "career."
I want a new job.
I love Barnes Jewish St. Peter's Hospital! It is the only place I have ever worked as a nurse. The atmosphere is very family-esque. I know most everyone who wroks there. I was promoted to a charge nurse almost immediately after I got out of orientation as a staff nurse. I have loved being charge, but am ready for a change, so I have resigned. Now I will return to work as a staff nurse.
I want a new job.
Why would I return to work into a lesser paying position? Well, I have held the same position for 3 years. My heart is no longer in that role and I think it is time for someone else to have the opportunity to lead. It would be selfish of me to stay in a role I dont want for a measely $1 more an hour.
I want a new job.
I think my personality and skills are better served in a managerial/leadership/education role. Some may think I do not have enough nursing experience to persue such a role, but I have much more than most nurses my age. There are no positions open at the hospital I love.
I want a new job.
Christian Hospital and Progress West have jobs that I think I would be suited for. I am scared to apply. It is a scary thing to leave the home you love in pursuit of different dreams. If I dont apply a really great opportunity could pass me by. It could be months or years before a job opens up at BJSPH. If I do apply, I will have to start over, meet new people, I may hate it. I may love it. The hours may be awful. The hours may be great. Decisions, decisions.
I want a new job . . .
Hi, Sweetheart!
This is the first entry of my very first blog. My beautiful 2 month old daughter, Regina, is sitting next to me in her bouncer. She always stares at me with the most inquisitive eyes and smiles the most beautiful smile. Just saying the title to this blog is like an "on" button to her smile. I see so much of myself in her! It is amazing to look at yourself looking back at you. It's also funny how I can mistreat myself, but when I look at myself through her, I want only to be perfect and to treat her exactly how I would want to be treated. I know that sounds confusing, but I am the only one who has to understand it! Well, the boys just got home so maybe I will get another chance to write later. I love you Regina.
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