Last week I posted this picture to social media and the minute I hit "POST" I kinda feared the reaction from both kids. Of course, the normal hahaha's came out, and then Kali texted me with the comment about her chubby cheeks. My first thought was "mama's milk". What I find so beautiful in pictures from the past is the realness of how we started. The beginning days with her. Still confused on the whole baby thing "again" and really on my own "again"
I'd field questions to my mom with hopes she'd remember. She didn't.
Nursing wasn't a popular thing back in the 70's. Or so she says. They'd get shots to "dry up". Which I find ironic and a bit true in the bond that was missed between her and I. It doesn't surprise me one bit how much I tend to stick to Kris and Kali like glue.
As they say, we generally do the opposite of what we've been offered.
Or so we hope.
Kali's career path is closer than what she's probably expecting, and this morning as I was coating my face with coconut lotion there were so many emotions stirring in me.
Does she realize what is about to happen?
Does she see a clear path?
Does she have clear dreams?
Does she know what she REALLY wants?
Does she know just how challenging this big world is?
Does she see beauty in simple things?
Does she know that pain and hurt make a woman a more beautiful human?
Does she know what she'll endure in motherhood?
Does she know what it takes to be a bride?
Does she know how to manage money?
Does she know how to save?
Does she know that being frugal is better than showing off things that don't really matter?
Does she know how beautiful it is to breastfeed?
To give birth?
Does she know just how fast this life is?
I mean, really.....really??
Does she know the big path that lie ahead?
I stare at this picture, and although I can see freckles. And dimples. And little chubby arms, and little skinny arms of a little guy. I see a brother holding onto a sister. Not knowing the path each would take. Or endure.
I see the seriousness in his face because he truly wasn't a huge fan of hers in those beginning days.
This little dude had mama wrapped around his fingers.
And she cried. A.L.O.T.
One of the reasons I began to blog years ago was to allow a peek back into our lives later. For each child to look back and read what their mom had to say. The beauty in good times, bad times, and those that made their mom the human she is each and every year.
I hope that Kali will find an anchor to my words. That although these new chapters will roll out and each beginning is scary....she will make it through. Life can be like a big ocean. But you can and will navigate through.
Even when the water is choppy and rough she will get through.
"Adjusting sails" as some folks say.
It's coming to that first jump.
Figuring things out.
Just like MOTHERHOOD.
Being a woman.
Made up just a tad bit different than men. Than daddies. Than brothers.
A different angle to sensitivity. To nurture.
And God willing, if she is able and willing...Motherhood.
I love you Kris and Kali. I'm glad I had Kris as my beginning. And Kali as my end. To teach me how hard breastfeeding was at 19. That he still survived on formula. That his pacifiers were worth buying each and every time he'd lose it.
Kali taught me that I survived raising a girl. A little teeny tiny girl that cried so much while trying to nurse until we figured it out together. The love of motherhood teaches you patience.
And kindness.
And strength.
And this week, with a full moon...lots and lots of exhales, and "every little thing is gonna be okay"
Whatever you do, you MUST GET UP AND MAKE A DIFFERENCE. EVEN IF IT'S JUST FOR YOU!
Something I read, that resonated with me this weekend...I hope you enjoy.....
Keep pushing friends....
You can do it.
xo
Much love, especially to you Kali...
There are plenty of challenges ahead to fight for your place in this world, sweet girl. I never want you to fight for your place, next to me. Watch me become the gracious woman all of us need, but not one of us has. Become her with me. I will ask to try again and again. And again.
Lisa Lynn
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