Adoption: Supply and Demand

Adoption: Supply and Demand

Soooooo. Anyone else read this post on adoption ethics by Jen Hatmaker? It’s a doozy. Read it. It’s right here, or you can click on the picture below.

Jen writes a post about the ugly side of adoption. The unscrupulous ways business people in 3rd world countries are meeting the US’s demand for adoptable babies and why this is abhorrent. I was going to just link the article to Facebook, but more people need to see this. It breaks my heart, but knowledge is power. Power to think, power to change, and power to BE. I have scores of friends who’ve recently adopted children and I love them all tremendously. Their littles are entirely blessed to be in their forever families and I could never, for even a moment, consider that there was something shifty in their adoptions.  But I see where opportunistic people can create supply for money and it makes my heart so sad.

Tara is a (real life!) friend of mine who blogs at MommyHaha. She posted an essay a while back about her adopted daughter’s first steps and how many mixed emotions were coursing through her. She said something to the effect of how proud she was of her daughter, but how sad she was that her birth mom was missing all these moments. That stopped me in my tracks. I’d never given any thought to what birth moms were missing. For obvious reasons, adoption PR has always focused on the child’s new life. Not the family that was left behind or the circumstances behind it. Tara’s compassion and love for her daughter’s birth mom speaks volumes of her heart and I thought of her immediately when I read Jen’s post. I also thought about how much a post like Jen’s could hurt adoptive parents’ hearts. No one wants to think that the beautiful child they prayed for and loved and brought home could have a mama far away who mourns her decision or ignorance. It’s too terrible to dwell on for long.

And of course I want to stress that this is not always the case. Diligent parents do their homework when adopting and bring home kids without a chance of reunification. But it’s scary to think of the why behind “no reunification”. Do me a favor and read the post. Be informed. Hold space for those coerced or misinformed mamas, and absolutely watch for the second part of Jen’s post.

 

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I dropped the ball

Life has been moving at a frenzied pace. There’s work to do and invoices to send and words to be written. It’s a beautiful cycle, but sometimes things get missed. It just takes one ball you’re juggling to go kattywompus and the whole slew of them crash down. I messed up the juggling balls today. Actually it was a while ago, I just didn’t realize it until today.

Kelle Hampton of Enjoying the Small Things recently released the paperback copy of her endearing and cheeky book Bloom. Over on her Instagram feed, there were requests for the book from mamas who couldn’t afford to splurge on themselves at the moment. Mamas doing without for their babies always tugs at my heart and I quickly arranged to send some books. I ordered them, I packaged them, I addressed them, I even printed shipping labels. All that was left to do was drop them off at the post office and they would be spirited away to 5 different mamas in 4 different countries. Pretty magical when you think about it. Spreading love and Light and stories across the world! That was over a month ago.

I found the packages in my car this weekend. [head hung in shame]

I’m not sure how it happened, but I dropped the ball and now I feel embarrassed. In the midst of life, I shuffled those books to the back of the car and promptly forgot about them. I think the worst part about the whole thing is having to email those mamas and explain why they haven’t received their books. Believe it not, I still haven’t done that. Because you see, in a moment of self preservation, I came up 1,001 stretches of the truth that I could use to invoke sympathy and understanding. It wouldn’t be lying exactly, it would just be explanations other than “I plumb forgot”. Save face, you know? Of course I’m not going to do that. wink wink. 

We’re all human and sometimes we just forget. We get too many things going, too many balls juggling mid air, and something is bound to fall. How we handle those moments says a lot about us though. Do we make up excuses and paint ourselves as the victim of circumstances? It’s tempting, I know. Or do we own up to our mistakes and take whats coming? I don’t expect any of these mamas are going to be too terribly angry with me. The consequences of this mishap is really just my own pride, but how we handle the small things sets a pattern that will be repeated with the big things. Incorporate grace, love, and honesty  into the small moments of your life and that’s what you’ll have to draw on during the big moments of life.

Be always honest, upfront, and gracious. It’s quite becoming.

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Love is All You Need?

Love is All You Need?

I’ve seen this video pop up twice, and both times didn’t watch it because of the length. Then I was on Dan Pierce’s blog and he had posted it, citing my same reason for him almost not watching it. I gave a little laugh and decided to watch the first 5 minutes and go from there. I’m not really a video-watcher, so it’s hard to keep my attention. But this one did. It’s powerful. And I don’t use that work lightly. I sobbed.

Truth be told, I wanted to share it with you immediately, but then thought of a thousand reasons not to do so. In the end, I feel like it needs to be seen. Parents, watch alone before watching with your kids. You know your kids better than I, so I’m not even going to attempt a rating. I don’t know that I’ll watch it with Daniela. She has a beautifully sensitive soul and it would tear her apart. Maybe in a few years.

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The Rest Can Fall Away

The Rest Can Fall Away

Last Tuesday Daniela and I went on a Mommy/Daughter Date. This doesn’t happen often during the week because of homework and theatre, but there was nothing scheduled after school, Marco was working late, and I didn’t want to make dinner. You would have thought I handed this girl a blank check. She was so ecstatic at the prospect of our date! 10 year old girls have a gift for showing enthusiasm and I was eating it up. I suggested she do some homework on the way to Barnes & Noble so we could at least get that out of the way, but she asked to do it later, saying “I just want to talk to you” awwww. heart melted.

We browsed our way through the bookstore and settled on a few books. (Obama’s Of Thee I Sing is fabulous. Our new favorite book, hands down. We’ve read it at least 5 times since!)

On our way to dinner, I handed her one of her new books because she usually spends the car ride reading after we leave the bookstore. She took the book, but continued to chat with me. We sat down at the pizza parlor, and I noticed she didn’t bring in her book. Normally when Daniela gets a new book, you can’t pry it out of her fingers. She reads in the car, she reads while waiting for the pizza, she is voracious. I asked if she wanted me to go get the book from the car and she said “Can we just talk? I’ve been craving just talking to you!”

My momma heart exploded with love and pride (and teensy bit of guilt!). After she went to bed that night, I thought long and hard about how my time with Daniela looks and it made me sad. After theatre gets out (anytime between 5 and 8 during peak practice) it’s rush home, rush dinner, rush homework, rush bedtime routine, rush sleep. I am more of a home manager these days than a momma and my baby feels that. Even at night when I lie down with her, I’ve been cutting the conversations short because it’s important to me that she be rested for her full days. We need a break from the rush. School is gearing up for finals and theatre is working hard toward their production, life at home must balance the chaos. It’s necessary and healthy.

This weekend is going to be my life break. Absolutely no work of any kind shall take place. No writing, no editing, no filing, no, no, no. This weekend (and maybe Monday too, if I can drag it out that long) will be for relaxation and family. I won’t stress about dinner; we’ll eat whatever is in the refrigerator. I won’t stress about cleaning; crumby floors never hurt anyone. I won’t even stress about missed bedtimes; she’ll survive with an hour less of sleep. I will make time for conversation and hugs and lots of cuddles. Remembering the important things this weekend. The rest can fall away.

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A College Story

I want to tell you a story from my sophomore year of college. The freshman year stories are way better, obviously, but this one stuck with me instead of fading away as beer fueled stories tend to do.

I went to a very conservative Christian college. Think of the stuffiest church you’ve ever been to and add a college to it. Skirts below the knee, no open-toed shoes, and those gawdawful pantyhose. True story, first week of freshman year I took a pumice stone to the top of my foot until it bled horrendously just so I could get a note from the campus Dr excusing me from the pantyhose requirement. The note was only good for two weeks, but I strategically changed the date so many times that it lasted me the whole two years I was there. Naturally, I majored in debauchery and canny deception.

Anyway, each Spring semester, there would be a campus wide Spring Cleaning. Now, it’s not the type of spring cleaning that involves chemicals and scrubbing. This Spring Cleaning was more of a spiritual Spring Cleaning. More students were expelled during the first 2 or 3 weeks of the Spring Semester than any other. This house cleaning, so to speak, made it very easy to get expelled;  too many “bed not made” demerits, doodling a voluptuous fairy instead of taking notes during chapel, staying at Cordova Mall past 5pm, visiting a Blockbuster — all of these petty offenses resulted in friends being expelled from college. Somehow, I made it two years. It still amazes me. (And no, I wasn’t kicked out!)

The spring semester of my sophomore year, I sat in the lobby of my dorm waiting for a friend. A girl down the hall had been kicked out of college the day before for sneaking a kiss with her boyfriend and I saw her there in the lobby, in the middle of all her boxed up things, looking lost, alone, and scared. Naturally, I watched her and imagined myself in the same situation. Her face was puffy and her eyes were terribly bloodshot, the tear stains still on her cheeks. She was barely into her 5th month of college, and now she was expelled. The front desk clerk walked over and somberly said that her father had just checked in and would be around to pick her up shortly. The poor girl burst into fresh tears and buried her face in her hands. I felt sick for this girl and wanted to comfort her, but there were strict rules against talking to students in the process of expulsion. I dared not risk it.

Sure enough, a dark SUV pulled up in front of our building and a middle aged man got out. He looked road weary and anxious, squinting into the sun to make sure he was at the right place. He walked around the far side of the car and opened the back, preparing to load all his daughter’s things back into the car that took her to college just a few short months ago.

That Dad, saddened, frustrated, and probably a little angry with his daughter, walked into our building carrying flowers. Freaking flowers, people! He didn’t lecture or glare like I’d seen a lot of the parents in that situation do, he tenderly handed his daughter flowers and held her while she cried. I could hear him saying “I love you so much” as I walked out the door, swiping at my own tears.

I never saw that girl or her dad again, but I’ve always kept that story close to my heart and felt privileged for having witnessed such an intimate moment.

There are so many things to take away from this story, but no matter the situation in your life today, live your story with compassion and love. It will make more of a difference than you will ever know.

 

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Namaste: It’s more than Yoga

Namaste: It’s more than Yoga

Namaste. I say it at the end of every yoga class and always feel very yogi master when I do. It rolls off the tongue like a well rehearsed tongue twister: na-ma-ste. Peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.  Nah-mah-stay. It’s a fun word, but I never understood what it meant. I mean, I knew it was a greeting from India; a salutation like “goodbye” or “shalom”, but it goes so much deeper than that. Get this.

Namaste: The divine Light in me recognizes and honors the divine Light in you. Holymotherofallthingsgood! The divine Light in me recognizes and honors the divine Light in you. Think about it real slow I feel like my whole life’s passion is wrapped up in that one word. Namaste. Another version of the translation adds the action of bowing; recognizes, honors, and bows to the Light in you. Whoamama. Bowing shows respect. Deep respect.  My spirit recognizes, honors, and respects your spirit. Bowing takes it to a whole other level.

I believe that God has created each of us with a divine Light inside us. This Light leads us, guides us, teaches us. I believe that this Light is Jesus. I believe irrevocably that Jesus is in every single one of us. Mother Teresa knew this to be true, which is why she dedicated her life to helping the many faces of Jesus that needed it most. A lot of people don’t believe that the Light inside them is Jesus. That’s okay. I don’t think Jesus is real picky when it comes to his name. Jesus. Love. Light. Guide. Jehova. Mother. Spirit. He’s too busy loving to worry about heading down to the name change office once and for all so we can all get his motherloving name right. Jesus and Light are the same. My Jesus and your Jesus.

Now, let’s say you’re a Yankees fan and you’re traveling in, let’s say, Nebraska. I know a guy from Nebraska. There’s nothing there. Anyway, you and your Yankees jersey are in Nebraska and out of the blue, another guy walks into the bar with a Yankees cap on. Instant connection.  Out of all the people around you, you felt a spark of recognition to this complete stranger because he’s wearing a yankees cap. You recognized a part of him that was the same as a part of you. Namaste!

Now imagine that on the level of all of humanity. What if every single person recognized and honored the humanity in every single other person. Namaste. It’s kind of hard to judge people if you’re recognizing and honoring that the humanity inside them is the same that’s inside you. Namaste keeps you humble. Glennon Melton, author of the newly released “Carry On, Warrior” (which is fabulous, by the way) (and where I learned the idiom of Namaste) says that confidence and humility are two sides of the same coin. They aren’t opposites, they work together. She says “I am confident because I am a child of God. I am humble because I believe that everyone else is too.” It’s recognizing that we are all the same. We’re human. We’re faces of Jesus. Faces of Light. Let’s recognize and honor the divine Light in each other this week. The easiest way to make that human connection? Eye contact. Look people in the eyes this week and smile. Clerks, taxi drivers, police officers, teachers, parents, waiters; just make eye contact and smile. recognize and honor that divine Light that lives inside us all. And bow, if you’re feeling so inclined ;) Namaste y’all.

 

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Trust Your Struggle

Trust Your Struggle

When I was 16 years old I lost my parent’s trust. I told them I was going to work when really I was going out for girls’ night with my best friend. We saw a movie and went to the mall. Totally innocent stuff, but I wasn’t allowed to go to the movie theatre. Baptist upbringing and all. My dad found out — as dads do — and I was grounded for months.

He drove me to and from work (which is the ultimate humiliation when you’re 16 and your dad is the probation officer), I had no social life outside of church, and even that was strictly limited. Even after he gave me back the keys, he watched my mileage to make sure I was going where I said I was going. I’m pretty sure this lasted until the summer before college.

You know how on cheesy sitcoms there is a theme that runs through every episode? Uncle Jessie lies to Rebecca, Michelle sneaks extra dessert, and DJ stays out way past curfew with her boyfriend. In the end, Danny has a big family meeting about earning trust. If you don’t know who these people are, Netflix Full House pronto. Yes, I used Netflix as a verb. Roll with it.

In life, these themes are rarely that obvious. Our cause and effect are often spread out over a lifetime and nothing is ever resolved in 30 minutes minus commercial breaks.

But The Madrid’s House of Awesomeness had a theme yesterday. From the time Daniela got home from theatre rehearsal until we were lying in bed with the lights out, the subject of trust kept reappearing.

Daniela told me that she didn’t want dessert because they had sweets at school. Yes, I have the most health-conscious child you ever did meet. For real. I told her how great it is that we can trust her to eat sweets in moderation.  She beamed.

Later, I was helping her with math homework and I noticed that she had answered all the questions correctly, then erased them. I asked her about it and she told me that she’d asked a friend for help and the friend had instead just written in the answers. Daniela knew that wasn’t right so she erased them. Even though she really struggles with that particular math concept, she was honest in her work! What I would have given for a friend like that in school :) Again we talked about honesty and how much trust we have in her.

Two more times the subject of trust popped up like that. Marco and I chuckled about it as Dani was getting ready for bed then he shrugged it off. I kept thinking about it though, and it occurred to me how easy it would be for Daniela to lie and we would totally believe her. It wasn’t long ago that I was a teenager abusing my parents’ trust. Not often, but enough to get caught.

So we talked.

As I was lying in bed with her, I told her my story and she was horrified.  I’m not sure at what, though. She probably sided with her Grandpa Mark. Freaking kid.

Moral of the story was that trust is a delicate badge of honor. And not just with parents, I told her. Trust with friends, teachers, and significant others is something to be earned and cherished. Not taken lightly or carelessly. There will come a day when she wants to lie to me. And if she chooses that path, I’ll probably believe her. But I’m cultivating a relationship with her that values honesty, trust, and open communication above lectures, groundings, and imposed consequences – though I’m sure they’ll find their place in there too ;)  I just don’t want her to feel the need to lie to me.

I thanked her again for being trustworthy and finished my story: As angry and suppressed as I felt having my dad drive me to work because I was grounded, those few minutes in the car with him were some of the best conversations I’ve had. I began to see him as a person, which I think he was always a little afraid of me seeing; his humanity. I began to see that maybe he enforced rules with such gusto because underneath all the stern parenting was just a dad who was scared he wasn’t doing a good enough job. Parenting is the most rewarding job you will ever feel insecure in. That’s how you know you’re doing a fine job.

I don’t think I earned my dad’s trust back by making curfew and going where I said I was going. I think we earned each other’s trust by peeling back the layers of frustration and exposing our vulnerability. 12 years later, I love my dad for the humanity he showed me. One 10 minute car ride conversation after another.

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Friday Phone Dump! Hashtag your Instagram photos #ltbtl and I’ll include them in the round up!

 

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Speaking Life

Speaking Life

“Baby, why are you crying?”     Marco, Daniela, and I were sprawled on our bed talking about the upcoming school olympic games, which she takes very seriously.

Daniela choked back a bigger sob and with tears now rolling freely, whispered “Because I’m a bad person!” My heart broke.

Daniela has never been very good at accepting criticism. It’s one of the things we’re working on. As soon as I heard her sad words though, I instantly knew how she got to that dramatic conclusion.

Daniela has a hard time separating her behavior from who she is at her core. If I were to tell her that she did something bad, she hears that she is bad. That drastically changed my parenting style, but occasionally something will slip out that I didn’t catch. Such was the case here.

A few days ago I posted some pictures of Marco and Daniela training for the various competitions. Marco is amazing with her. He coaches her with love and compassion, but she is hard on herself and gets easily frustrated. I just want to swoop in and remind her that it’s more important to be a kind athlete than to be the best, but Marco turns her discouragement into motivation to do better. Daniela can be fierce; she doesn’t like to lose and Marco’s competitive nature loves that spark. Meanwhile, I worry that Daniela will be so focused on winning, that a defeat will crumple her.

Daniela is what you would call a sore loser. Competition is highly emotional for her and when she’s ahead, her laughs and silly dances are infectious. But when she falls behind, her shoulders slump, her face falls, and her frustration is evident through her scowls and body language. She feels everything intensely, and that’s a beautiful part of who she is – a part I am still learning to understand every day. But I also feel strongly that she should be taught how to lose. Try as he might, Marco just doesn’t quite grasp this the way I do. His attempts come across more as “On the off chance you happen to not be in first place, (wink wink), be proud that you did your best. (Wink, wink)” While it’s good advice, it’s not exactly what I was going for :)

After they came in the house the other day bragging about a particular long jump measurement, I called a family meeting. I’m totally the downer, I know. Well, Daniela doesn’t respond well to criticism. Even the most innocuous remark can wither her in a flash. We talked about what a kind and compassionate person she is and how that should transfer to sports. I told her what a great winner she is, always proud, but never cocky. Then it slipped. I segued into the criticism with a smooth “One thing you could work on though, is being a good loser. Because let’s face it (insert giggle) you’re a sore loser!” Then Marco told a funny family story about a game she lost when she little. Which normally makes her laugh, but I had already done the damage.

Sore loser –> bad action –> bad person. 

Of course I immediately pulled her onto my lap and rocked her as if she were still a toddler. All I could say at the moment was “No, no sweet baby. No.” I apologized a thousand times and tried to help her grasp the idea that her behavior is entirely separate from who she is, but I’m not sure she really believes it. I tell her constantly, and I told her again that I would give anything for her to see herself the way I see her. Compassionate, smart, clever, and so very loving. She smiled that adorable half smile of hers and life went on, but it got me thinking about how fragile a child’s self esteem can be.

Alvin Price, author of several parenting books including 101 Ways to Boost Your Child’s Self Esteem, said “Parents need to fill a child’s bucket of self-esteem so high that the rest of the world can’t poke enough holes in it to drain it dry.”

What scares me is that often its the adults poking the holes.

I recently volunteered as a Guardian Ad Litem and am representing the best interests of 7 (seven!) siblings. These children have been through a lot, and for obvious reasons don’t trust the adults involved in the removal from their home. My heart just breaks for them. I’ve made it a priority to spend a few minutes with each child just speaking life into them individually, praising their characteristics and encouraging their abilities. It’s our one-on-one time, and their caregivers tell me they look forward to it. One young girl in particular has really come out of her shell. She used to shrink away when I told her how brave she is, but now she lights up. She quipped, “I told my teacher I was brave!”

Kids believe what we tell them. When we believe in them, they bloom! They watch for our reactions and adjust accordingly. This is showcased beautifully in one of my favorite books, To Kill A Mockingbird:

“Scout, look!”

Smoke was rolling off our house and Miss Rachel’s house like fog off a riverbank, and men were pulling hoses toward them. Behind us, the fire truck from Abbottsville screamed around the curve and stopped in front of our house…

“Don’t worry, Scout, it ain’t time to worry yet,” said Jem. He pointed. “Looka yonder.”

In a group of neighbors, Atticus was standing with his hands in his overcoat pockets. He might have been watching a football game.

“See there, he’s not worried yet,” said Jem.

Kids look to us to form their opinions of themselves and their worlds! That’s a mighty responsibility to shoulder carelessly. They rely on the adults around them to keep them safe and let them know that everything will be okay. That they are okay. As adults, we need to be conscientious about the words and ideas we speak over our children! I read on Pinterest somewhere that the way we talk to children becomes their inner voice. I think that is accurate to the -enth degree. I have a fabulous inner voice. For real. My mom was very vocal growing up about raising me to be confident and independent. She instilled in me a self assurance that absolutely shaped my personality. In some respects I may be overly confident (ha!). But I credit her with building up the qualities in me that helped me slide into marriage and stepmotherhood without batting an eye. I wasn’t perfect at it, but I wasn’t second guessing my every move either. I was confident that I could add another dimension to Marco and Daniela’s lives and that we would blend as a beautiful family. And we did.

But how different my story would read if I had grown up with constant ridicule and jeering. The life and Light she spoke into me propelled me upward.

As life is wont to do, the cycle now repeats itself and I am responsible for the life I speak into Daniela. One of the things we have adopted in this empowerment journey is reading little quotes while lying in bed at night. Right now it’s this one by Jada Pinkett Smith on the backlash of why she would let her daughter cut/dye/shave her hair.

The question why I LET Willow cut her hair. First the LET must be challenged. This is a world where women, girls are constantly reminded that they don’t belong to themselves; that their bodies are not their own, nor their power or self determination. Willow cut her hair because her beauty, her value, her worth is not measured by the length of her hair…even little girls have the RIGHT to own themselves and should not be a slave to even their mother’s deepest insecurities, hopes and desires.

This blew me away. While I believe that ultimately Daniela belongs to God, I agree that there is no person on this earth who should be making Daniela’s decisions for her. As parents, we are to teach our children to think for themselves, empowering them to be their own advocates. This has a boomerang effect too, for when kids do have a problem they can’t face alone, they turn to the people who have supported their independence all along. They’ve been taught by example that they can trust and depend on their parents.

I want Daniela to be confident enough in her self worth that she could dye her hair blue. Or green. Or even fuscia. I don’t want society to dictate what is “pretty” for her. If she feels good in leopard velour hotpants, I want her to rock those hideous things. Of course I will be taking pictures for future blackmail, but that’s beside the point :)

Another way we empower Daniela is recognizing guilt trips. She was very young when Marco started doing this, maybe 5 or 6 years old. He taught her what a guilt trip was, showed her how people use them to manipulate, and how to deflect them. She’s a pro. Every so often he’ll say something with even the slightest hint of guilt dripping off it and she’s all over that sucker. “Papi! Don’t guilt trip!” I can’t tell you how that warms my heart. People will try to use her, to take advantage of her generous heart, but if her life reflects all the value her adults have poured into her, she will not only recognize it for what it is, but she won’t let the ugly make her bitter.

Constructive criticism is a necessary learning tool in life, but should be used with caution on children, if at all. There are so many other, more meaningful ways to teach children and I don’t want to be the parent that resorts to criticism. I pray constantly that Daniela’s spirit is so wrapped up in kindness and love and compassion that mean spirited people wouldn’t even make a dent. The life we speak into our children ultimately becomes them. It’s imperative to make sure it’s nurturing their spirits.

“Criticism, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a man’s growth without destroying his roots” — Frank A. Clark

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Friday Randomness

Friday Randomness

I’ve been thinking a lot about empowerment and rules and speaking life into kids lately. Until I sort all my thoughts out in my head, I want to share a few quotes that have started to spark a direction to the thoughts. I fully plan on Daniela and I memorizing the first and at least frequently reading the rest of  them, they’re that good :)

Via a text from one of the most awesome people I know and get to call family, Tyrna. Before that it was Pinterest :)

Via Jada Pinkett Smith on her daughter Willow’s hair cut. 

Via Hannah Brencher, who rocks life. 

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And of course, our Friday Phone Dump! Hashtag your Instagram photos #ltbtl if you want to get in on the fun Fridays :)

Daniela gets back from her cruise this weekend and I am so ready to squeeze her and never let go!!! Enjoy your weekend!

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Magic Elixir

Magic Elixir

Today I saw my health guru. She’s simply divine. Sometimes she’s my doctor and sometimes she’s my shrink. Other times a friend and cheerleader. Today she was all of the above. Her office is nestled into this enchanting little garden, smack dab in the middle of Sarasota. If the arched, wrought iron gate doesn’t give it away, the flowers growing wild against the winding brick pathways will surely let you know heaven is close. It’s an instant oasis inside those gates. Koi ponds, wind chimes, hidden alcoves; it’s a life-size fairy land. No joke, it’s for real.

I walked in today stresssssssed beyond reason and handed myself over to her. I think a little piece of God inhabits her healing because she always knows what I need. Always. She’s a gem.

We talked, she listened. I relaxed, she massaged, acupuncture-ed, and cranialsacral-ed. I breathed. We hugged.

I walked out refreshed and rejuvenated, as cliche as it sounds. A better version of myself. The one who can tackle life’s issues with grace and poise. The one who stays one step ahead and keeps everything running smoothly. Sometimes I forget that me really is inside and not drunk in a corner somewhere.

She’s a magician, I tell you.

And it’s a really good thing too, because in a moment of overachiever insanity last night, I signed up to volunteer with two different community outreach programs every week AND decided to finish my masters degree. Not just the “Oh yeah, I think I’ll finish” kind of decided. I’m talking the FASFA filled out, start March 4th kind of decided. Lord have mercy.

I blame it on my blogging friends. They all have these “word of year” things going on and I’m just like huh? Let go. Love more. Just go! Words that they are structuring their lives around. Little mantras, if you will. They’re all so motivated! If they were actual real life friends I could just be like yeah, good for you! But they’re more colleague/professional friends so of course that ups the ante a bit. I was thinking about that last night when I rashly decided my word would be goals. This would be the year I volunteered more. This would be the year I go to that writing conference I always want to attend. This would be the year I finished my masters. This would be the year I go batshit crazy. 

I can do it though. I bought a 2013 re-fill for my organizer, fondly known as Isadora to my family. (Yes, years ago I named my organizer). I know I can do it. It’s all about organization. And the health guru. She’s the magic elixir in this crazy year of goals. Wish me luck!

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