Posts Tagged ‘love’

Today You Are 1

Today you are 1.

If I close my eyes I can still feel the phantom kicks of your tiny heals against my ribs.

I can still remember the overwhelming anticipation we could not contain.

I can see your perfect face looking at mine for the first time.

I’ll love you forever

We soaked you in for days.

You were here and we were in disbelieve.

I loved you more than I could comprehend.

My heart exploded.

I’ll like you for always.

Blissful giggles began to pop, brightening our lives.

New adventures were sought.

Our worlds richer with each new discovery .

As long as I’m living.

Your adventures took you from scooting to crawling.

Babbles suddenly turned to words.

You became a little girl.

But no matter how big you get birthday girl.

My baby you’ll be.


Love Mumma

*words inserted are from the Children’s Book “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch

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We had only just met a few weeks prior, but suddenly I was head over heals. My nights were spent talking until the early morning hours and my days were spent day dreaming.

His 1992 Honda Accord would barely make the 2 hour drive to my house each weekend and by the time it did my butterflies were dancing wildly. The rumble of the deafening muffler coming closer would make my palms start to sweat and my heart beat faster.

He found my country girl attitude amusing and I found his city boy mentality charming.

Dinner’s out were romantic. We would stare at each other across the table and hold hands, whisper, and make plans. Servers would call us cute. No one had ever held my hand on top of a table at a restaurant before, or swept my hair off of my cheek while we waited for our drinks. No one had ever kept their eyes locked on mine when the server came back to ask if we needed anything else.

I could feel my heart swelling.

Music played in the background as we drove around aimlessly, happy to be together even if it was only for a few days. My hands would glide across the steering wheel nervously as I spoke, giggling at his stories.

My heart filled, the music got louder, and I was certain it would burst,

I wish I could say I heard angels singing and that my hair was floating in a heavenly glow.

But I can’t because then I would be a liar.

I watched my love’s face change, a look coming over him I’d never seen before. He asked me to pull the car over and tucked my hair behind my ear.

I bopped

Boots with the Fur

He stared at me.

I continued my rhythmic bopping to what is now “our” song.

He leaned in and kissed me.

She had them apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur..

And I was in love!


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Over The Counter Embarrassment

I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.

A back injury has left me dependent on family.

Very dependant.

I’m not pleased about relinquishing my power, my thrown, but I need all the rest I can get.

My maternity leave is over and I go back to work in two weeks.

Brian has been supportive and is trying to understand my situation.

The situations caused by my situation.

Not “The Situation.” He’s not here.


I’m in a lot of pain people!

Some of these pain killers cause “issues.”

Problems in “the lou.”

So Brian, being the supportive, understanding man that he is he did me a solid (ha ha) and set out to get me some help.

He was met at the pharmacy check out by a small blonde teenager, her only thought being who to text next and what shirt to wear out later.

Brian: Ahhhhh… Ummm.. Would you guys happen to have any .. ex-lax

Girl: Yup, I think we do

Google Image

A look of confusion crosses her face.

Brian: Do you even know what that is?

He’s cursing me, angry that he has to explain constipation to a teenager, frustrated that he’s been here for longer than 10 seconds, and scanning the shelves for something that “will do.“

The girl returns with a bottle in her hand and slides it across the counter.

Reading the bottle Brian discovers he’s been handed Imodium, “For the Relief of Diarrhea.”

Brian: Right, I actually need the OPPOSITE of this.

Taking the bottle back the girl reads the medications purpose and then looks to Brian.

Her face changes.

She is disgusted.

Quickly she found the ex-lax.

Rang Brian through.

Not looking up to make eye contact or pass him the bag.

Brian: It’s not for me!!

LOL right!!! It’s for your FRIEND!


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I Will Love You…

To My Daughter,

I will love you… through late nights of teething, ear aches, scary movies, bad dreams, and thunderstorms.

I will love you… when you tantrum, hit, bite, tell me you hate me, hurt my heart.

I will love you… when you lie to me for the first time, and the second.

I will love you… no matter how many times you eat food off the floor or ground.

I will love you… as you learn to talk, wrapping your mouth around sounds and forming words.

I will love you… if you fall as you take your very fist steps and clap my hands with excitement.

I will love you… through bullies and backstabbing, hurt feelings and lost friends.

I will love you… when you find someone you love and then through heart ache.

I will love you… when you make mistakes, no matter how many, my love is unconditional.

I will love you… if you decide to go away to school, or not.

I will love you… even if one day you get angry and tell me you do not love me.

I will love you… if your life takes you in a direction that involves you moving far away.

I will love you… if you need to move back home, anytime.

I will love you… when you tell me you’ve turned out just like me.

I will love you… until the end of time.

Leighann (Mumma)


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This week we took on and conquered sleep training. Sleep has been an elusive beast in our house and sleep training a controversial subject. We wanted to assist our daughter in sleeping on her own, however, did not want to attempt many methods for various medical and personal reasons. So we picked a method that we hoped would work and although we were faced with a flurry of mixed emotion and high anxiety we were still determined to get this baby to go to sleep on her own.

Her new resistance to rocking was the push we needed to begin the process, a process I had studied endlessly. I should have learned by now that in parenting there is no rule book, no guidelines, no step-by-step tool, you just do it.

Night one we laid on our baby’s floor. The two of us. We listened to our baby cry and reach for us while we reassured her from below. My heart ached to jump up and rip her from her cage. To bring her to my chest and rock her until her eye lids fell, heavy with sleep.
I prayed she would just fall asleep, that she would understand this was the best thing for her. I prayed that God would rock her to sleep, that she would feel His arms around her and drift off. I tried to be tough telling myself that she wouldn’t remember any of this and she needed to learn to be a big girl.

I felt Brian’s hand grasp mine.
It tightened.
Tears were stinging my eyes as I fought to hold back my sobs.

After 20 minutes of hearing my child, my life, cry for me I reached my hand up through her crib bars and placed my hand on her mattress, smoothing it over her animal print crib sheet.
She slowly knelt, exhausted, and placed her tiny head into the palm of my hand.

That is where she stayed.

That night the three of us slept in my daughters room.
One in her crib.
Two on the floor.
My hand reaching into the crib so she could still feel the warmth of the body that she is naturally drawn to.
The body she grew in.
The body she knows as home.


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t’s Red Dress Friday so that means another prompt. Today’s is; write about finding a lost article of clothing in the back of a drawer or closet. You are to let us know how the item was found, what it is, and why it’s so meaningful to you or your character.

My piece if fictional

The sun lit up a steady stream of dust as it came in through her window. This was her favorite part of the day. Early morning. The birds were just starting to sing, the coffee pot had just started to brew, and the day was fresh.
Memories hadn’t kicked in yet, heartache hadn’t begun. The day was beginning and for a minute it was perfect.
Under her heavy down comforter she pressed her head into her pillow and stretched. Maybe today would be different? Maybe today wouldn’t be filled with a heavy heart, a slow pace, tears, and naps on the couch. Maybe today would be the day she turned the pictures back around, answered the phone, made herself something to eat.
Swinging her feet out of the bed and pressing them into the plush carpet she willed herself to feel happiness. It wasn’t there. She felt empty.
She walked over to his dresser, the same as she did every day before and touched his watch. A gold Rolex he received as a gift when he retired sat on top. She ran her fingers over its smooth face and let herself slip into the memory of seeing it on his wrist. Peaking out from under his suit jacket every morning before work, pealing it off every night before bed.
Sweeping her hand along the wall she stopped at the window and let the sun shine on her face. She missed being outside and walking hand in hand with him, gardening in the spring, waiting for him on the porch.
Tears were pooling in her eyes and she dare not cry, not yet. She was going to try hard this morning.
Shifting to the closet she combed through her array of black clothes.
Plain black t-shirt, plain black pants. The same everyday.
She had packed his clothing away months ago, it hurt too bad to see them, to smell them, to be reminded that he would never wear them again.
As she slid her shirt off of the hanger something orange caught her eye. A bright fabric amongst her sea of greys and blacks. Reaching down she pulled the clothing closer to her and shook it out.
Her husbands dress shirt hang in her hands, bright orange, unwrinkled, and still smelling of him.
She didn’t feel sad.
Her heart didn’t feel heavy.
The sun shone in and the orange shirt lit up in its glow.
She slipped his shirt on wrapping it around her fragile body. His smell surrounded her and made her heart full.
Her husband was with her, he always was.
Today was going to be the beginning of the rest of her life.
Today was going to be a good day.


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I thought it would just fit.
New love.
I didn’t know that sometimes it doesn’t just fit.
Sometimes people find their perfect mate, they fall head over heals in love, everything around them is a blur, its just the two of them, they profess their love for one another over and over.
But Sometimes the fit is wrong.
Not this love!
Your love is so strong it can withstand anything.
Almost anything.
The anger comes quick and unexpected.
It leaves blisters.
The blisters only hurt sometimes.
You put band aids over the bleeding sores and keep moving.
Love feels good. That’s what everyone says.
You don’t want to give up. This love will last.
Flowers are given, sincere apologies, hugs and sweet nothings whispered in ears.
The Blisters heal.
But the scars are still there.
Memories of what happened appear and the fear that it might happen again lingers. You questioning every move, every step, for fear the blisters will come back, the pain.
Holding in tears, laughter, joy and all emotion doesn’t help.
The anger comes back.
And so do the blisters.
The fit is wrong.
Its been too long and its hard to escape, to find your way out, to ask for help.
The embarrassment is overwhelming but the fear is worse.
The blisters are bleeding
They don’t heal this time.
Time to get out, to get help, and to be safe
The blisters will stop bleeding
But there will always be scars.

This post is not representative of my relationship now.
If you or someone you love is in an abusive relationship please seek help.
There are resources available to you so that you are safe.


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