meditations of a blueberry

I lie in the dark, attempting to will sleep to come to me. All is quiet in the house except for the soft breathing of my sleeping children. I wrap myself up in the fleece sheets and feel the warmth flood my body, and still sleep does not come. The moon shines in my window and I get up to close the curtains. Flashbacks of the week flood my brain as I relive each moment where failure flooded my day. This parenting thing? It's not for the faint of heart. It's without a doubt the hardest, most thankless thing I have ever done in my life. Most days I waver between wondering what the hell I'm doing and hoping against all hope that nobody figures out that I'm just faking my way through it all. Every single day I find myself full of wrong choices and wrong reactions and wrong actions and so many wishes that I could start over and try again. It's bloody hard to be responsible for tiny humans. Beyond the mundane tasks of feeding and clothing them and making sure t

Recently I got lost in my diary from high school, and the more I read, the more my heart broke for 14 year old me. How worthless and unlovable I used to find myself! And how much I believed those lies. Signs of my depression peeking through amidst the teenage angst. I often wonder how I made it through. I started wondering what I would tell her if I could go back and comfort her. Timers on cameras and just hoping that it turned out okay! What do you tell someone who is hurting and only sees dark? What do you say to encourage a young girl who feels so alone? What words do you use? I would tell her that her worth is not tied to boys. That she is beautiful whether a boy thinks she is or not. That what these teenage boys think won't matter in a few years. That it's okay to be on her own and not be dating someone. That she doesn't need to do something just because a boy wants her to. That she is in charge of her body. That she will make mistakes but that they don&#

"Comparison is the thief of joy." That's what they say. I sit in the light of our Christmas tree, amongst the soft pillows on my couch, wrapped in the cozy comforts of an old blanket and I look around. I see photos of my loves, hear the laughter as they play downstairs, taste my hot coffee on my tongue, and smell the scent of Christmas beside me. Home surrounds me, in scent, taste, sounds, and sight. I am so blessed. And yet. And yet. And yet so often I feel like all this is not enough. Like I am not enough. I look past the carefully placed Christmas decorations that I lovingly and carefully put away each year. Many that I have made, some purchased new, some purchased secondhand. I see the scratches and dents on the walls that has come with 4 kids that are less than careful. Scratches that have come because of previous owners not painting over oil paint properly. I see furniture that we have had for years that has faded or has broken