Me and my little lightbulbs in the bluebonnets!

Me and my little lightbulbs in the bluebonnets!

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Closing a Chapter

Dear beautiful children,

On this day, the eve of my going back to work, I want to say thank you. Thank you for the three most wonderful years of my life.

I have never laughed so much, cried so hard, stressed so deeply or been so wrapped in joy all at the same time as I have been while I was at home with you. While it is necessary for me to rejoin the "real world," I am thankful that I will still have the afternoons with you.

But there are so many things I am going to miss. I will miss having the luxury of cuddling with you, Beau, on those cold winter mornings. I will miss those leisurely walks to school in the morning, J.T., with the crisp fall air encircling us.

I will miss the holiday breaks when we baked cookies and stayed in our pajamas. I will miss snow days and impromptu trips to the park and the zoo.

How blessed am I, though, that I have those precious memories to last me a lifetime. And, as the years go on, I will look back on them with the greatest of appreciation. You may not remember these days as well as I will, but I pray our time together has instilled in you both the foundation to bolster you in the years ahead.

Beau, as you embark on your preschool days, I am excited to see all you will learn. J.T., this is an era of independence for you. I can't wait to see even more how you mature, blossom and grow. I treasure you both. And if I never get back to where I can stay home with you again, I want you to know these three years have been a gift from God I will cherish always.

You are my heartbeat. I make you this promise: I will do my best to balance these new demands in a way that enriches your life and never detracts from it.

From the moment you were each placed in my arms and I held your tiny hands I vowed to do my very best on your behalf. I look at you both as on loan to me from our Heavenly Father. I can only do my part to guide you in a way that He would approve of.

While this may be the closing of a chapter, I hope God will bookmark it for us, so we can return one day to these special fleeting days of your youth when we can spend most of our time together, learning, growing and sharing.

In the meantime, during all this change, remember Mommy loves you to the deepest core of my being. Higher than the moon, deeper than the sea and wider than the universe. Forever and always.

Love,

Your Mommy

Friday, September 3, 2010

Legos, lego's everywhere!

As the mom of two boys fanatically in love with Legos, I have found myself screaming inside at all the hundreds of little pieces I have to clean up every day, several times a day. Knowing I'm not alone, I created this tribute to the great lego search we moms find ourselves involved in each day. Enjoy!

A Mother’s Ode To Legos


Legos legos everywhere.

They’re in my shoes, they’re in my hair.

Peeking out from the oddest places,

little bitty Lego faces.


Wheels and bricks,

pirates and sticks

mock me as I search for the pieces,

checking all the nooks and creases.


Legos, legos everywhere.

As I gather them up, it’s just not fair

How they can hide and scatter,

making cleaning a messier matter.


I imagine one day gathering the piles

of bits and scattering them for miles.

But my little boy loves them with all his heart,

except for when they break apart.


So here I am, on my knees.

Can’t someone help me, please

Find all the legos that he’s strewn

across my living room alone?


Legos, legos everywhere.

I’m about to pull out all my hair.

Stepping on them makes me curse

which just makes matters worse.


One day when I’m old and gray,

and I’m asked how I got this way

I’ll look up from my shiny wheelchair

at the psych ward attendant and say

“Legos legos, everywhere!”


- Miranda N. Bradley

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Waving a Victory Banner

My blog posts have fallen by the wayside lately. It's unfortunate, and I apologize. But before you judge me too harshly, let me update you on a few recent events.

About three months ago, my husband came home and tearfully dropped a proverbial bomb on our household – he was laid off from his commercial construction job. Considering our healthcare and primary household income was wrapped up in this job (which he had for two years), it was, needless to say, an emotional time.

Thankfully, he left with a small nest egg that, we estimated, would last us a few months. Surely in that time he – or I – would find work. Despite a few close encounters, nothing has quite worked out. And here we are, facing down the barrel of economic destruction so many Americans are dealing with these days. So what, you may ask, does this have to do at all with being a mompreneur? Well, my friends, I'll tell you.

Being a mompreneur has a great deal to do with spiritually and emotionally supporting your family. It's a choice you make knowing you most likely won't get rich pursuing this path, but that you will instead have the flexibility be there when your family most needs you. There has been no greater demonstration of that in my life than right now.

In the last few months I have had to face my greatest fears and conquer my mightiest demons. The least of which was facing certain poverty (something I struggled with as a child) and dealing with immense stress. Realizing my two children gauge their reactions by my own, I had to go about things as normal. School routines remained the same. Extracurricular activities continued and my business activities had to push forward.

Beneath it all, however, I was wrestling with the constant desire to bolt the scene – run away from the shifting sand that was suddenly our reality. Of course that was not an option. My kids – and my husband – needed me.

So, instead of fleeing my fears I was forced to turn and face them head on. We shut off cable, reduced our gas consumption and began clipping coupons. Next we'll eliminate our hard phone line. As for summer, we are frequenting the library, swimming pools and, thanks to benevolent family members, are sending one of our sons to a couple of camps this year.

Now that I have fewer distractions (thanks to our lack of brainless cable entertainment), I have had a lot of time to think about this situation. Through the occasional tears and heated spousal discussions, it eventually dawned on me that when this temporary struggle is over, and I do believe it will be temporary, I will have a great deal to teach my children. Savoring the little things, for one; like the fact that Daddy, after a long two-year commuting absence, is here every day when they wake and every night when they go to bed. Perseverance, for another.

Mainly, though, I will tell them about how, despite the exhausting emotional toll, Mommy and Daddy woke up every morning to fight the good fight. We faced down the fear of financial ruin together, without allowing the stress to break our unity. And when we finally win this battle, I will happily hold up the victory banner that will be an in-tact and stronger marriage.