Journal Entry #1 August 2017
The beginning of the school year is my new New Years! I’m nesting like a crazy women. I’ve even got my crazy game face on. Ha! It may have even gotten so bad that my husband wondered if I was pregnant (I’m not.) And by “nesting”, I mean organizing, cleaning out closets, etc. I even went through old artwork and pictures to make room for this year’s artwork and pictures. I wish I could say this was a special moment for me- you know, looking all serene and feeling nostalgic as I flip through the pictures in the attic (all movie like). And yes, some of the time it was, until I got to a specific class picture. My son looked like he just got out of bed. I’m not kidding. His hair is standing up in opposite directions, and he’s wearing a hand-me-down cartoon t-shirt with a completely stretched out neck. Meanwhile, the other boys are wearing collared shirts and have perfectly coifed hair. I already felt a tightness in my chest thinking about how much time has gone by, and this picture pretty much put me over the edge. What if this is proof that I really did fail as a mom during that rough patch I went through? I knew my head could start spinning like nobodies business, so I marched downstairs for reinforcements. Sane reinforcements, otherwise known as my husband. I told him about the picture, the outfit, and the hair. His response? A plain and simple, “None of that matters. They felt loved by you. That’s what matters”. And like the good, self-doubter I am, I replied, “Ok… they felt loved, right?” I had a really hard time as a young, new mom with two boys 17 months apart (I lovingly refer to it as my “deep dark hole”), so I needed him to say it again. He said, “There is no doubt in my mind that they felt loved by you 100% of the time.” Well, phew! That’s good because I love them, with every ounce of my entire being, 100% of the time.