MomEncouragement

Image by  Andreas Wohlfahrt  from  Pixabay   Today my son turns 19. When I wrote a bout time management in Where D id M y D ay G o , li t tle did I know I’ d b e sitting down to write this post on his big day. I mean, 19, what the heck? Where D id M y D ay G o has turned into w here did the last 19 years of our lives go? Give me a sec while I soak up the tears that threaten to flow... If I ruminate long enough, I’ll remember “the days are long but the years are short.” - Gretchen Rubin   I’ll lovingly recall some of the work I’ve put into the last 19 years of being a mom. I wish my memory served me better. But then again, maybe it’s a blessing that I can’t recall every single meltdown, or every dirty diaper. Maybe it’s a blessing that I recall those years with a certain fondness. Perhaps it’s in our design, so we don’t recount every...single...thing to our children and scare the idea of our future grandchildren right out of them! Good Lord, d

Image by  OpenClipart-Vectors  from  Pixabay We are all walking wounded. Both the words we use and the words we absorb can build bridges that empower us to reach unimaginable heights, or they can wound us to the deepest fathoms of our soul. That old sticks and stones saying? That’s a bunch of hooey in my book! Words can hurt. And if we’re not careful, woundedness can perpetuate. Too often have I been in a reactive mood to something that happened in my day, and passed that negativity on to my family, or anyone who happened to be nearby.  Maybe someone was curt with me, or I felt misunderstood, or treated unjustly. I can imagine the times I turned around and was curt with my husband, short tempered with the kids, or was passive-aggressively slinging dishes into the dishwasher like a Greek wedding was about to take place. Maybe I was scowling when I walked by someone, brooding to myself, but made eye contact and had a negative effect on their day. We tend to lash out where w

Image by  TeroVesalainen  from  Pixabay Between what is referred to as fibrofog, on top of mommy brain, and the very real possibility that I have undiagnosed ADHD, at the end of most days I’m left pondering the question, “Where did my day go?” I don’t have the hyperactivity of ADHD, but I just learned that ADD is an outdated term, so I had to use ADHD. Perhaps if I had the hyperactivity I  could  get more done?  Sorry, that was a rabbit trail! It’s not that I don’t have a grasp on the passage of time, it’s a lack of focus and attention that thwart me. At the end of the day I review my to-do list, only to realize another day has passed of exhausting busywork, and hopefully the essentials (you know, eating, that kind of thing). Little things get done that aren’t very significant, but the things I  need  to get done to make life a little better suffer for it. This lack of focus and concentration really scared me after losing my mom in her early 60’s to a form of d