Little One

I know you’re close. Something in my world has changed and I can’t help but feel the electricity of something anew.


We were never on the same page at the same time, either a chapter ahead or behind one another… your Daddy and I. Life has been so full of ups and downs, we never knew if the time was right.

Little One, I know you’re close.

I can feel the love and longing inching it’s way into all aspects of our lives. Your Daddy knows it’s time. Maybe that’s why my heart is at peace with the future. I don’t see worry in his eyes anymore that we won’t be able to provide you with the world, I see the longing to know you as well.

Little One, it’s almost time. Our home is small, our lives very big and full. I have been imagining your face often and who you might take after more, your Daddy or me. But mostly want you to be the best of both and your own uniqueness.

We can’t promise you the world, but we can promise to be here for you every step of your life. Each mark you make on this world, we’ll be right behind you, urging you along.

Little One, I feel it in my heart we’ll meet soon. Please be patient with us, Daddy and I. Our pages are turning, our words creating sentences, in turn creating our story…. all leading up to you.






Christmas Innocence


It shines. Alternating strand after strand. Sinking in and out like a winter firefly. The warm smell of comfort in the home drifts lazily through each room. Unaware that living in a shelter meant you were going through hard times, the little girl awoke each day during December anticipating that Santa was coming and let the countdown begin. Her younger brother, too, felt the magic and excitement that a Christmas tree brought. At the ripe age of 8 years old, the girl was all but naive. But she continued to believe in magic. She felt it in all aspects of her life.

She shared a room with her younger brother, her mother nested on the couch. The space was small, covered in dark wooden walls and filled with borrowed furniture. Each week, a cardboard box of food supplies would be deposited on their front step, along with the other residents of the Eugene Family Shelter. Both girl and boy could not wait to see what the box brought! It was exciting to see the new foods that would be in there, their favorite was cereals and anything fresh provided. The Christmas tree continued to glow each gloomy, rainy morning. Lulling the day along hour by hour.

Within the next year, the family was able to transition to the mother’s Grandmother’s home. The children had no immediate memory of this woman, but were excited for the new warmth she brought. Her home was comfortable, full of her own life’s memories. Delicate momentums littered on every dresser, shelf, and wall space. Christmas was yet again coming full circle, magic tingling like electricity with each waking morning. The girl, now 9, hoped for nothing. Wanted…nothing. Just the pure enjoyment of how being warm and comfortable made her feel complete. To thank their great grandma for letting them stay there, the girl and boy wanted to do something for her for Christmas. A tree glistened with tinsel in the corner of the living room. No presents beneath it, and yet glowing with life, wonder, and hope. They secretly wandered through the house, each picking something that they liked from her shelves. Items that were attractive to them that looked like something a lady would like. They continued to wrap her precious memories in newspaper and place them under the boughs of the tree. The smell of homemade cinnamon rolls distracted them from the gifts and they wandered to the kitchen to visit with the woman. She was forever imprinted on that little girls heart.


He was seven years old and life was full of wonder. He romped through his home, eagerly anticipating the spirit of Christmas morning. His family was warm and strong. Life was good.

With precision the boy placed each window cling in their proper place, assuring that Santa was not without his reindeer and that the snowflakes fell from the sky. On his dresser, twinkled a small Christmas tree decorated to his delight. Anything and everything merry was placed with a pure heart throughout his room. The boy slept, enveloped in pure innocence and magic.

Prayers in heart, the family brought home their tree. With their own fair share of hardship, the family shared a united feeling of empathy from the teeniest bug to the most beautiful farmed Christmas tree. And the boy continued to countdown the days until Christmas morning, where they finally get to place baby Jesus in his bed in the manger on their shelf.

Christmas has come and gone and the new year has begun. His mother calls him for a talk. She sits him down and tries delicately to explain that Santa isn’t real, but in fact it was herself and his father bringing gifts. The boy, now almost 8, leaves the room in tears.  The realization that the magic was no longer there. The spirit of Christmas and all it means stays in his heart as he grows, but the innocence of believing in magic is now gone. Everyone finds out at some point that Santa isn’t real. But the magic is always there. It lives in the peace, love, and faith in the good in people. And this man has grown to continue to be true at heart and all things innocent. And his room is still pasted with Christmas decorations each holiday season.



I sit here in my living room thinking about my list of gifts I need to buy, making sure my store has enough product as to not miss out on a gift for the wanting child. Remember, it’s not about the newest XBOX ONE, iPOD, tablet, Barbie, or Cell phone. Let’s try and raise our children past the entitlement attitude and with more empathy for others. Don’t forget the spirit. Merry Christmas and God Bless.


Teddy Bear Pubes

I can’t help but LOL at this. Sometimes the things that come out if my husbands mouth really need to be documented and this was one of those times. I ran around in my leggings doing chores this morning, while Husband slept snuggly under the covers. I woke him up for work and he groggily wandered through the house slowly waking himself up. At one point he walked past me and mentioned I had something on my butt. With cat like reflexes he snatched it from my rump with “look, you found some teddy bear pubes.” Haha I am still laughing at how random this was. Just so you know, teddy bears don’t really have pubes, but it was in fact a jumbled clot of Pomeranian hair, my hair, and lint.

It’s really those little things that can get a morning off to a great start with a big smile. I really don’t know what I would do without his commentary in my life. Thank you Husband. I heart you.


Who needs babies anyways?

“You’re going to be a grandfather.”

“But, I already am.”

“Well, you’re going to be one again.”

The parent shuttered at those words. How can this boy become a father when he can’t even take care of himself? The parent longs to hold his son to comfort him, to reassure him, to celebrate. But there will be no celebrating with this conversation. The boy is only 17. Drug addict, psychologically stunted from a meth infested mother. Unresponsive to a loving father, except to leave threats of arson and harm. This boy with a record needs help and stability and now he will be nurturing a tiny life.

It’s a whirlwind of emotions. No one in the family has separated the boy from our tight embrace. He CHOOSES to alienate himself from reality. This is a moment when I pray to God to shines through any crack of light in the boys soul. The actions my mother have caused by her addictions have radiated through each of her four children. Mark is the youngest. He was the last one ripped saved from the instability of my mothers mental suicide. He was so tiny, trusting, and incredibly intelligent. He would rebuild engines of motorcycles and lawn mowers at the age of 8.  The promise of what could have been has been covered in soot.

“Mom, everyone has been saying you’ve been doing drugs. Have you?”


He was only 12.  Somehow he had to know. He blamed everyone for taking him away from his mom. He blamed our dad for taking him to live in Kansas and it was all Dad’s fault. Truth is, he was born into the ugliness that was kept secret for so many years. Even I didn’t grasp the entirety of the truth about her.


Fast forward to today and here we are with a boy who is closing off all family from knowing this little innocence, coming soon. Might I add that he is currently living in an abandoned trailer in the woods. And chooses to not hold down a job. Not to pass judgement, but it is fact. He is capable of so much more if he tried. Here I am, 27 years old, healthy and mostly stable. Longing to be a mother, knowing I can give it so much of my heart and experience and yet unable. Not physically (that I’m aware of) but relationship wise. Husband is not ready. It makes my ovaries hurt. I know my time will come someday, and for that time I will be dreaming of. Until then, I will pray for my brothers baby to have the strength to pull through a life that isn’t even good enough for the wolves.