5.5...

This girl is five and a half today.

And I just can't comprehend where the time went. Can you believe that sweet baby on the right is this angelic child on the left?

Just yesterday I was putting her hair in her first pony tail. 

And now she has enough hair for a dozen pony tails. 

Just yesterday I was covering her head in bonnets. And now she accessorizes on her own. 

Just yesterday she fit in that tiny basket. Today she still fits in my arms. 

Her spunk and sass are two of my favorite things about her. 

From the moment she arrived, she always seemed to know something we didn't... she still does. She's still keeping just a little something to herself to surprise us with later. 

Whether it's recalling a funny memory, learning a new word in Spanish, or reminding us of something we forgot a long time ago... she's got a secret to her that I adore. 

She is so full of life...

and radiates joy.

She brings beauty to life and makes discoveries every day.

As full of attitude as she can be... 

She's 1000 times more sweet. 

She's caring and kind, genuine and gentle, loving and ever-so-loved. 

It seems like just yesterday we heard her first giggle, and now her laugh fills a room. 

She will forever be our miracle baby. The one we didn't know we were waiting on. The one that brings more joy than we can handle. The sweet surprise to life. Our Emersyn. Our petite package with a larger-than-life presence. 

I never...

You remember that game? You circle up with all your friends and confess to the things you’d “never” done. If someone else had also done this “thing” then they would have to drink (or in my friend circle, Mom, pray the rosary).

Things like…

I’ve never kissed a boy

I’ve never held hands on the band bus

I’ve never skipped school

I’ve never smoked

I’ve never had a* beer under age

(All things I have never done. Well, except the thing on the band bus.)

(*5 beers)

So, motherhood is a lot like a big giant game of  “I never”. For example…

I will never nurse a baby after he/she gets teeth.

I will never let the baby sleep in our bed.

I will never let the TV be a parent. 

I will never have a house full of Barbie dolls.

I will never yell at my kids for no reason.

I will never let my kids leave the house wearing crazy clothes.

I will never laugh (or take pictures) when my kids cry.

I will never lock myself in the closet and cry.

I will never threaten my children that they won’t see the light of day if they just don’t stop whateveritistheyaredoing right this instant.

I will never just let my kids decide what they want for dinner. By stopping at HEB. And letting them pick absolutely whatever they want. Nope. Never. 

I'd also never just let them dig into as much ice cream as they want.

I will never be mean to my kids.

I will never ignore my children.

(For the record, I don’t ignore them…I just invented a new “7 minutes in heaven” called “DO NOT talk to Mom for the first seven minutes we get home from school).

There’s also a game called “My kids will NEVER”… 

My kids will never fight.

For no reason.

Every time we get in the car.

My kids will never be disruptive at school.

My kids will never misbehave at church. Or school. Or Target. Or while sleeping. Because I think they could even manage that. 

My kids will never wear ridiculous clothes and think they look awesome. 

My kids will never pick their nose.

My kids will never be mean. Or cruel.

My kids will never make me cry.

My kids will never ....

You get the idea. 

Let's just say that by this time I've "said a lot of rosaries" if we were playing by the rules. And man, am I glad that we aren't playing by any rules. Because, who makes up those rules? Who says that we can "never"? Why does it matter? 

The simple answer is we do it, I do it... to myself. And that's just silly. So in this season of grace, mommas... go ahead and offer yourself some. Serve it up on a big 'ol platter of humility and forgiveness wedged next to giant heaping of self appreciation and love. 

You deserve it. I've never meant anything more. 

Warrior Mom...

Last week I had a moment.

I was frustrated. And overwhelmed. And angry. And sad. And possibly slightly hungry which just makes everything worse.

So I did what any normal momma would do and I sent a dear friend a text that basically said I was losing my shiz. That I couldn't do it. That I was falling apart and taking everything down with me. (Because we are nothing if not dramatic over here).

I said, "I need a pity party". And I told her what a warrior mom I thought she was.

And do you know what she told me?

Y'all. She had the nerve to say...

Well thank you, but no one ever tells you what a warrior mom you are. And I say that with all sincerity because yes, I get it. I get that it's exhausting to be mom and dad 80% of the time... Mornings are hard, and yet you get out of bed every damn day, put a smile (and a cute outfit) on and get 3 human beings out the door (to 2 different schools). Then you go to work all day, the easiest part of your day (bc instead of 3 kids asking you a million questions, you have 20 students asking you 100 questions). Pray with all your being that the school doesn't call bc we all know who would have to go pick up and nurse a sick kid...its you...you're the only option. You get out of work just in time to run to go do pick ups. Pick ups...AKA survival of the fittest with all the glitter papers, water cups, nap mats, gobs of homework, and jackets to sustain a 3rd world country. Put your smile back on, Mom, bc it's time to ask important questions and give important answers for the next 5-7 hours. You'll teach them about manners and geography and life lessons and God and spelling (and all in Spanish, mind you!)! Put a decent meal on the table (or a great meal on the table when you can muster up the energy) and remember that pancakes and bacon for dinner are good for the soul. Bathe them (or better yet, coach/yell at them until they figure out how to bathe and dress themselves). Clean up toys, clean up papers, clean up dishes, clean up shoes, clean up clothes, just clean up...or don't...(it's called being a normal person...and trust me, you're great at that too). Give all the hugs, read all the books, chase away all the fears, say all the prayers, negotiate all the water cups/extra hugs/I have to pee/just one more chapter. Then sit down and watch your show, or write that blog, or text back that friend, or get out the cute outfits for the next day, or wash your hair, or sleep. Sleep, dear warrior mom. Sleep, knowing that YOU DID IT! They survived another day. You survived another day.

You don't need a pity party. You need a celebration party. A celebration of the amazing mom and amazing wife and amazing friend and amazing daughter and amazing child to Him and amazing community member and amazing educator and amazing person you are.

Oh yeah. She said ALL that.

I cried big fat ugly tears in my kitchen. Right in front of those beautiful, messy, drive-me-crazy,  amazing kids of mine.

And they ate their cereal and asked me what was wrong.

And I said, "Nothing...nothing is wrong."

And they ate their cereal. And then someone got mad at someone else and the day continued. And I got front row seats to this wonderful life. And I wiped my tears and warriored on. (totally not a word)

So fellow warrior moms - let's do more of this mad love sharing. Let's make sure we let our fellow warriors know that we SEE them. That we UNDERSTAND them. That we PRAISE them. Let's take away the kryptonite of the messy rooms, rushed mornings, busy days, hectic nights and half-taken showers and instead feed their souls with the goodness of support, encouragement and maybe even help.

Let's show up. For each other and ourselves.

Let's spread the fierceness of being a warrior mom like a wildfire. I'm totally stealing Amber's words to make it easier for you to do just that...

Save this and post it on someone's FB page. Order that family a pizza and send this with the delivery man. Pop this in the mail with your bestie's favorite magazine.  Print it and tape it to your own mirror.

Warrior on.

Linking up with Holly today!