Protection

I've started running again... and when I say "started" I mean, I've been twice this week (my goal).

I love to run. I love it because there's no one needing anything from me. It's just me. With my raging thoughts, running and walking alone. It's glorious... I think about my life and my blessings. I talk to God. I think about my to-do list about my wish-list and about nothing at all.

Last night though, I saw a spot of the ground and a tiny memory came back. Just a bit of it. One that I've been trying to remember for a while now.

You see there was a time a few summers ago where I left my home and stayed with S. In my mind it was a Thursday through a Sunday but her version made my stay longer. I thought time had just mixed up her memory but it turns out... my mind blocked it out and I'm beginning to realize why.

It's normal to not remember every single part of your life, but when you are reminded, either by a friend or a song or a story, memories come back. You still remember it, it had just been stored somewhere else.

But for me. This particular time, I can't. I can remember everything leading to it, but that time at S's house. I can not remember. I can't remember and when I try it feels like a wall comes down in my head and blocks that memory. I can't remember if I went to work. I can't remember where the kids and I slept. I can't remember where we ate dinner (with her and her family or on our own?). I can't remember. And I've never asked her for the details... because I don't think I want to.

That little spot of the pond I saw last night... I took the kids there during that time. The sun coming down on the pond was the same was it was during that time. And that's all I remember. That and the feeling of deep deep hurt.

And that is why God has chosen to not let me remember. He knows that it's too much for me to bear. He protects, He comforts, He loves.

Who will win?

he wins when we choose hate instead of love.
he wins when our words cut more than they heal.
he wins when our marriages are more broken than repaired.
he wins when our children choose violence over peace.
he wins when we cry more than we smile.
he wins when our world looks more cloudy than sunny.
he wins when we choose the world over THE God.
he wins when we walk away rather than walk towards.
he wins when we resent instead of forgive.
he wins when we are first and He is second.
he wins when we let fears overtake courage.
he wins when our lives become his playground.
he wins when we choose ignorance over truth.

Don't let him win.

Choose Him when you win and when you lose.
Choose Him when you laugh and when you cry.
Choose Him when you are hopeful and when you are hopeless.
Choose Him when you are joyful and when you are joyless.
Choose Him when you are in plenty and when you are in want.
Choose Him when you celebrate and when you mourn.

Choose Him because He lived it.
He chose love.
He chose to heal.
He chose to smile.
He chose to hug.
He chose truth.
He chose courage.
He chose patience.
He chose peace.
He chose death to this world.
He chose life in His world.
He chose you over Him.

Let Him win.

Once

I have never been more aware of the short time I have left with my parents. I know it sounds morbid. It is.

My dad's been sick for a while now and he's more often than not visiting the hospital because of side effects related to the cancer.

I see them once a year... sometimes less. The moments we have together are precious to me and all these health challenges only reinforce my need to make every moment count.

But that's life isn't it?

I have never been more aware of the short time I have left.

Making every moment count, whether we're 1500 miles apart or 1.
Moments. Life. Breath.
It all counts.

Relationships built, loves won and loss, lessons learned, lasting hugs and gentle touches.

Babies graduate and get married. Life is constantly moving, and moments are constantly slipping away.

The days are long but the years are short. ~Gretchen Rubin

You only get to do it once. Do it well. Do it so it matters.

Promises

He woke up this morning crying because he had a nightmare. He dreamt that B and I were getting divorced...

How do I comfort him? Tell him that it just won't happen. That divorce is not an option.
I did that before. And I broke my promise.

So what words can I use to set his mind and heart at ease? There are none.
I just hold him and tell him how much I love him and I'm sorry he has these yucky feelings.

Not ready to end

My baby is growing up. In just a few months he'll be starting kindergarten.

Yes, I'm the mama that cries during the "firsts" because it's then that I realize that for something to start... something else has to end.

Taggies... his beloved taggies. I ordered this when he was a little over a year...

...because I realized what he was doing. Whenever he got anxious or tired, his little hand would immediately find a smooth ribbon tag from either his underwear, tshirt or my shirt. He rubbed and rubbed it until he soothed himself. I did not discourage this because I sucked my thumb until I was 11. Yes. Years old. So, I was all about the taggy rubbing.

At the same time I ordered this (which we affectionately call - "Football Taggy" cause we're original like that) from Amazon and paid way too much money, Grandma was making him this (which we affectionately call - "Taggy Blanket", again with the originality):

So now here it is... about 4 years later and he sleeps and brings his "football taggy" and his "taggy blanket" on trips, to bed, to the couch... wherever. He rubs the tags when he's watching movies, bored or just needs some extra comfort. It's not a big deal because we can go to lots and lots of places without them. He's attached but in a healthy way. :)
Last night I asked him what he thought about putting the taggy blanket away... you know, since he doesn't use it as much as he used to. He said maybe when he goes to kindergarten. Sounds fair.

Maybe in a box, he suggested. I told him that was a good idea. He said I could box up the football taggy too. I was shocked. Both?! Then he told me not to put them too far because he was going to need them when he cries again.

Ah... I still have my baby.

Don't worry bud. I was just testing the waters. I'm in NO hurry to box 'em up. Cause that would be the ending to this...

And I'm so not ready for that.

I think I'm a 1.5... how about you?

I was making my yearly visit to my dermatologist last week (years of baby oil have done bad, bad things to my skin!) and  got this bad boy...

This is the second time I've had to have a mole removed. My other one was on my cleavage and as much as I'm sure you all would like to see it... I'm not putting my cleavage online. I'll show you in person though. :)

Anyway, so there I was waiting to have Mr. Sun Damage removed when I saw a poster that caught my eye.

The words displayed:

Which 1* are you?

Well, I wanted to know what in the world they were talking about cause I wanted to know which "1*" I was too!  So it turns out they were talking about this.

Um... so I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I'm a...

1.5

I obviously have the long "1" and the beginning of another... just a half though.

Um... so there I sat in the dermatologist's office wondering what I was supposed to do, now that I knew I was a 1.5.

I thought about it while they numbed me, cut out the "bad" mole that decided to create a journey on my arm and contemplated this new information and...

I decided Botox is disgusting, fake and expensive and not for me. I like my 1.5. I've earned my 1.5.

And I should use sunscreen.