Dear Sonnet James

Dear Sonnet James,

Our meet-up was a convoluted one: I started following a blog, that lead me to another blog, that lead me to an Instagram account, that lead me to you. I salivated and day-dreamed about your dress and being the kind of mom that your brand represents. A mom that could play and have fun while still coming across as polished. I finally pulled the trigger and bought the Reese dress. I was so patient. It was on backorder for 4 months. When it came in the mail, I was giddy. I waited until I was all by myself to open you up. Oh and when I did, you did not disappoint. First, a fun Winnie the Pooh quote, then 2 lollipops and squishy toys for the girls, and finally THE DRESS. It was just as I imagined it would be: flattering, stretchy, movable, perfect sleeve length.

And when I decided to put you on, I felt so fun! I felt cute and put-together. The girls were so excited to see me in something other than shorts and tee shirt. We rode bikes, played dolphin patrol in the yard, and then...painted nails. My beautiful white dress with black stripes became black and white with hot pink splatter marks. I was fun no longer. I was mad. So mad. So I did the only thing I know to do when something catastrophic happens: I called my mom, gave her the dress, and hoped that she could work her magic on you.

After some time passed, I realized how I let this one little thing (read my One Thing post for more background here), sent me on a trajectory that I didn't want to be on. I spiraled. I let my girls see the spiraling. And for what? A 34 year old tantrum. I have to learn a better way. I will still wear my dress whether or not the stains come out because it is a good reminder that life can be messy, and this is OK.

So Sonnet James thank you for:
1. reminding me to be fun.
2. reminding me what really matters
3. reminding me that the look of being polished isn't the same thing as being polished.
4. and reminding me that shit happens, but it's how we respond that matters most.

Praying to be a better example for my family!

Love,
Sharon

Dear Clean Sheets

Dear Clean Sheets,

I love how clean sheets feel against my feet.
I love how clean sheets look against my bed frame.
I love how clean sheets somehow mean that I've got it together.
I love how clean sheets check off a box on my to do list.
I love how clean sheets beckon me to bed.
I love how clean sheets make me feel balanced.

That is all. Thank your for making my bedtime so welcoming.

Love,
Sharon

Dear One Thing

Dear One Thing,

During the course of my day, most everything I do is with my girls in mind. When I go to the gym in the morning, I think about getting home before they wake. When we are leaving the house to go to the park, I think about bringing veggie packs, lollipops (more on the debacle that is the car-ride later), water, bunny snacks, and hats. When the girls are napping, I'm thinking about our next meal, the laundry, and the dishes. My attention is always on them.

Truthfully for me, this comes naturally. I am lucky enough to stay home with my girls and really get to know them. Oh but there are the days...those meltdown days...when I just need One Thing for myself. One workout without complaints. One soap opera without interruption. One phone call without whining. Today was one of those days. I lost it because, dear One Thing, I didn't have you. I didn't have you yesterday. Or the day before. Or the day before that.

I am not completely disillusioned. I know that most of the time I am a darn good mom: fun, whimsical, nutritionally-sound, stern. But I also know that when I'm off...when my One Thing hasn't been fulfilled...when my tank is empty...I am embarrassed at my 34 year old melt-down in front of the two people that make my world go 'round.

So One Thing, please come visit me. Everyday. Just once. Thank you for letting me know that my one thing, whether it's a sweaty run, a mindless tv show or a talk with my mom, can always bring me back to center.

Love,
Sharon

Dear Time

Dear Time,

We received news last night. The kind of earth-shattering news that stops you. That keeps you from taking the burning chicken out of the oven. That makes you put Cinderella on the TV for your kids to watch. That makes time stand still. That makes your heart sink, your eyes well, and your breath shallow.

Moments are all we have. Moments bunched together creating a memory of holidays or of vacations or of every day life. In all of the sadness and heart break, there is hope in these moments. It is faith that picks you up and dries your cheeks. And time...sweet time. That is all we want: to begin each morning knowing that we will be surrounded by love and beauty; knowing that even through our struggles time is precious; knowing that time can heal because we get stronger with each experience.

Time heals...time gives us perspective...time allows us to cope and accept...time lets us hug and cry and laugh and feel like things haven't really changed all that much.
There is suffering in wasted time. Please, let us not suffer. Let us embrace each moment and memory. Let us get off the couch, do something worthwhile. Let us say yes to memory-making.

Thank you Time for all that you've allowed me to love, see, and do.

Hugs,
Sharon