I started in 1999. I was not born to college graduates. I didn’t have anyone to help me figure things out. I tried and failed. Moved out of state. Tried again. And failed again. Moved home. Tried again. I received an Associate’s degree. Online. It was mailed to me. I finished one month before my oldest was born. She will be turning 10 this year.
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Hello! I’m Sommer. I like to write things. Drink coffee. Ponder. Write more things. I am a practitioner of mindfulness. And I write about it. I am a mother. And I write about that too. I was also d…
I made our wedding album today. My goal was to make it before our August Anniversary. Our 3rd Anniversary. I uploaded over 900 photos. Which, in itself, was an exercise of patience. It took nearly an entire day.
This morning I decided to just start it, make a few pages. A few pages turned into 34 pages. I was feeling creative, feeling joy reliving the memories. As I finished chunks I would want to share my excitement, I’d call over my husband and kids to look at my progress. Then I finished! I was literally doing a jig around the living and dining room.
I’m kidding. I have no idea if I’m doing it right. We are all just winging it, right? We are an amalgamation of influences; our own parents, our friends’, social, educational, environmental. We just sandwich all that shit together and hope for the best.
Part anxiety, part regular ol’ parenting; each night I rehash all of my parental instructions of the day. I question all of it. Did I give enough context? Did I give an example, was my tone too harsh? Did I come across bat-shit crazy?
I was a Girl Scout. Shout out to Troop 541! I had a Daisy Smock, a Brownie Sash and a Junior Vest. Patches galore.
I want a Mom Sash. With mom patches!
Just finished a long car ride. Those are the best for reflection. Scribbling notes. Writing down thoughts. I have many. Many thoughts. They are a little all over the place. Some are reflections of my past. Some are thoughts on the future world my kids will live in. A lot are in the moment as I reflect on the actions of one man taking the lives of so many in Orlando.
A single act affecting so many lives. So many.
I know a lot of people have things to say about it.
I know what the problem is.
Have you ever read the poem IF by Kipling? You should. It is powerful. My brother shared it with me during a difficult time many years ago and I have read it countless times. A copy hangs on my fridge and at my desk at work. It’s malleable; applying to a myriad of challenges. It is motivational. And positive.
If you can fill the unforgiving minute, With sixty seconds worth of distance run.
That is how I’ve felt as of late. I’ve been filling a lot of unforgiving minutes. I’ve not made time to write because life seems busier for some reason. And I’m making a lot of adjustments. My routine is being redesigned and I’ve not found the space where writing fits in.
I am friendly but not a friend. I love my children but we are not friends. Hopefully, if I raise them well, we will be friends when they are older. But we are not friends now. All parents have influence over their children. Fathers, step-fathers, mothers, step-mothers, significant others. Whomever is in their life is influencing them. But I think the mother has the greatest influence. If she is present or not. Being friends isn’t our job. It isn’t my job.
He is just six years old but he’s lived quite the adventure thus far. He is a tenacious child with a magnanimous smile. He is sensitive to the world around him. He worries. He has a thirst for knowledge and an excellent vocabulary. He’s practical and creative. He will pull you in and captivate you. He has been challenging me since 20 weeks gestation. One day I will chronical our journey. Just not today. Today I need to write about him and his falls.