It’s 3 PM on Sunday afternoon as I write this. Phoenix is running around with my little sister, his aunt. Caspian is sleeping soundly in his bassinet. But else where in the world parents are preparing to bury their babies while mine are snuggled safely still beside me. Since Friday my heart has been so incredibly heavy as I know each of yours has as I have watched the tragedy in Connecticut unfold.

I’ll admit that I have been having a very hard time escaping the feelings of hopelessness. My tears won’t stop as I think about all that has been lost, all that won’t ever BE and all that I am trying to hold on to. As a parents you do everything in your power to protect your children. We research the best car seats, we load them up with vitamins, provide them with helmets, & cover up the electrical outlets all so we can go to sleep with a bit of piece that our children, our hearts, will be there when we wake. But sometimes our children lose their innocence no matter what we do.

I know I am not alone in the blogosphere today as many bloggers will be expressing their grief, but I have a sponsored post scheduled for today that I can’t not post, but I didn’t want to just overlook what has happened. Through my own grief in my small corner of the world I want to send all of my love, all of my prayers & all my good will & intentions to every hurting heart & broken soul.  

When things like this happen I have a lot of questions regarding my faith. There are just simply no answers for why things like this happen & I don’t know if we ever will know. But I believe that God can bring a tremendous amount of healing & even turn all of this evil into something beautiful. He can and He will. 

All I want to do & all I can do today is teach my children to love. Love themselves, love each other & love others. 

Love.

Evil won’t win, we won’t let it. 

To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified. Isaiah 61:3

If you are looking for ways to help here is one for a fellow bloggers family. 

Like every Sunday night for the past few months my hands start to get a little sweaty, my heart races faster & the clock on my shoulder gets louder. It’s almost Monday & I need to produce something on here. Something that is good. Something that may go viral, something that may just be that one big post I need for someone to realize my brilliance.

Don’t worry, this is not a re-hash of last week. But as I was sitting here trying to come up with something to say I started to pursue other blogs & other Pinterest boards & Facebook feeds etc. And before I could stop it a familiar feeling hit me like a lightening bolt & I realized that it was high time I took some time to face it. Stop allowing it to paralyze me.

Jealousy.

Envy.

Words I am not proud of. Characteristics that I wish did not exist in me. I know we all can be a bit envious of people for their great hair, witty sense of humor or sense of style. Innocent hoping that maybe we possessed more of those qualities. But for me it’s different. I realize obviously that everyone is different, everyone comes with their own arsenal of awesome. But sometimes I can’t find mine. Mine gets lost while stumbling to pick up something else & I forget that maybe I am good at something. Mine doesn’t seem rooted innocence. Mine seems rooted in self-pity.

Have I always been this way? Maybe. But what seemed to send my over active jealous or woe is me gene in to overdrive is my constant blog/social media stalking. I can’t tell you how many times I click off a blog & think “Wow. I’ll never be that good.” & immediately feel defeated, deflated, defective. I hate it. I try to remember that no one has a perfect life. That even if you are born with a modicum of talent in anything it still takes time to finesse it. I try to remember that even people who I know IRL that I have looked up to as a “if only I was…if only I could” have in recent years gotten the short end of the stick. Grass isn’t always greener. 

But why can’t I ever remember that? Why can’t I ever just be happy, satisfied, satiated with who I am? 

If you have read this blog for any amount of time you have quickly picked up on the fact that I am my own worst enemy. I criticize myself to the death. I’m not skinny enough, my boobs are too big. My parenting sucks. I don’t know how to make friends, I’m a crappy wife, etc. And I know that most of you while reading this will be thinking “Oh Alex! You are so hard on yourself I’m sure you are great!” and I appreciate that. And I know that, but I also wanted to share this because I felt that it could be a step in accepting me by outing myself. 

When will I finally realize I am enough? 

Do any of you struggle with this? Did struggle? How do you deal?

Right before publishing this I stumbled on this piece from Not A Real Princess over at Just Be Enough

I turned 24 on the 20th. And I cried the entire day. 

I spent the day scrubbing my kitchen & bathroom floors trying to rid them of the familiar markers of a 3 year old. 

My eyes blurred with a mixture of tears & sweat as I tirelessly maneuvered the sponge across every tile. When I had completed my scrubbing I made my way to my bedroom, buried myself in my pillows & sobbed.

I told everyone the day before I didn’t want to mention my birthday, I didn’t want to sing, I didn’t want hugs or silly smiles I wanted no mention of it. Period. No one listened. Least of all my husband & all day, every where I turned was another reminder of 24 years behind me. 

I had a lot of aspirations growing up, ask my mother. A chef, a singer, a ballerina, a model, an FBI agent, a lawyer, a judge, an interior designer. Those are just a few of the things I’d imagine I could grow to be while I wrote in my diary. 

I could have been all of those things I’m sure, but instead I’m a mother & a wife. And that about sums me up at 24. Truth is…I fear my opportunity to be something more & to acquire prestige titles has long passed me. 

When my forgotten pictures have been exposed from their hiding place inside of a beautiful old wooden box I want my grandchildren to trace the lines of my face & say “That was an accomplished woman. She could do anything.” I want the legacy that I leave behind to fill the room long after I’ve made my way onto glory.

 In the hallow recesses of my brain I know the truth, I know that 24 is only a short post mark on a life that I intend to make great, I just need to start. And start somewhere. Slowly but surely turning my mundane, my inadequate self into an extraordinary work of perfection, whatever it will be.

Even if only it’s perfecting the chocolate chip cookies or the fine pressing of a shirt sleeve. This will be enough. 

via pinterest 

Sharing my story at Just Be Enough 

**Programming note: There’s a neglected BTBW Facebook fan page floating around the web. If you already like it abundant thanks to you. But maybe now would be a good time to visit. Why? Well for starters there’s a train wreck Kardashian video on there from last week, a scientific poll, a discussion on Once Upon a Time & Grimm {hello awesomeness} and an album of good eats. 

This shizz right here was syndicated on BlogHer

Many moons ago when my baby was not a 3 year old pre-school attendee who has successfully stopped saying “fuck” & now says “fudge”, but a tiny 5 month old I decided I should start a blog. I remembered one day while sitting on my sinking couch that I once had a blog that I enjoyed writing on. And so I decided I should be a mommy blogger.

I spent about a week coming up with a name for my blog because I wanted it to be really great. Thus “Before The Baby Wakes” was born. It was all “trying to get it all done….dun, dun, dun. BEFORE THE BABY WAKES“. Then the more I thought about I realized that I spent a lot of time yelling at my husband asking him to turn down the music dun, dun, dun BEFORE THE BABY WAKES.

For the first year I would say that my blog sucked. It was my daily mothering drivel. I was telling you rather then showing you about my day as a mother. It was all kinds of “And then Phoenix crawled, and then my husband said, and I was all” drivel. Even I was bored with it by the time I hit publish.

Then I started reading more blogs & seeing that most of the successful bloggers I liked had serious series & themes. They had recipes & tutorials {which I embarrassingly pronounce too-da-roll. Yeah. I know. Shove it.}. They reviewed books & toys. It was like the June Cleaver of Mom Blogs. And that’s what I wanted to be. But I struggled with it because it just wasn’t me.

And then I participated in my first Ultimate Blog Party & while quickly writing up my welcome post I think I stumbled on my voice. This was confirmed when comments poured in about how funny I seemed. I called my husband and told him “I think I’m funny. I think I should do funny”.

Then after that I found fashion blogs & outfit post & I was hooked & I thought I could do that & so I thought I could make myself a little bit more of a fashion blogger. But as much as I would be homeless for a lot of clothes I still wipe butt {not plural because that would mean I wipe my husbands & I’m not submissive like that} for a living so a lot of days no matter how glamorous I might think I am, I don’t get out of yoga pants & Old Navy Tee’s.

And then I went to BlogHer & I had so many people asking me what I blogged about & it went something like “Well I guess I’m a Mom Blogger, but I don’t always talk about mom stuff. I also do fashion when I get dressed, & then I do funny maybe. But I also have started writing, like real writing, & then sometimes its just random stories from when I was a long dress wearing Bible school student.”

I spend days upon days trying to come up with stuff that makes me seem as cool as MODG, as fashionable as Maegan, as crafty as Natasha, as funny as Jenni, & as Mom blog authority-ish as Jill, but I never seem to really get there. So I decided to take a break & here I am almost a month into my break & no closer to the “aha!” moment of inspiration that I thought I would be.

I try to remember that blog success can take years, I try to remember that success looks different to everyone. I try to remember that 15 comments are better then none. I try to remember that if you build it they will come, but other times I don’t always remember that and I find myself feeling emotionally & creatively depleted.

Right now. Today. I feel that I need to do something drastic. I even contemplated a name change, but that would mean the 100 plus business cards I still have would be a waste, I’d have to change my email address & Facebook page & even if the success doesn’t look the way I want it to I risk having to start over by doing that. Plus I don’t even know what I would change the name too.{Thoughts on changing my blog name?}

My drastic change needs to be one or both of these things. 1. I remember why I started blogging & writing in the first place. I remember to just write what I want when I want how I want & I just go hard & if no one comes (hehehehehe) then so be it or 2. I just continue doing what I’m doing  I was sitting here writing this jumbled up statement when I clicked over to Pinterest & found the picture* below.

And I realized that’s exactly what I need to do. I’m going to get lost in my writing, I’m going to get lost in being a mother {which shouldn’t be too hard}, I’m going to get lost at being a blogger & what comes out is what comes out. But I think if I do that I’ll end up right where I should be. 

*There was no source linked to this picture so I linked it to this post. If this belongs to you please let me know so I can link it back to you. Not trying to be sued over no copy-right infringe shit. 

I don’t know if you heard, but a fellow member of our community of {mom} bloggers lost her son a few weeks ago in one of the floods in Northern Virgina.

I first heard about Anna via Twitter & Jill at Scary Mommy on September 11th of all days. When I read about her story my heart immediately went out to her & I made my way over to her blog where I stumbled over my words in trying to leave her something she could hang on to. I don’t know if I did, but I hope that my comment along with the hundreds of others she has received has been able to touch her some way.

After I sat & prayed for her & even cried a little I wiped my tears & went about the rest of my day, the rest of my week. Anna & her son never far from my mind. But instead of my days being filled with funeral service arrangements & casseroles & somber hugs my days have been filled with broken toys, spilled spaghetti, grocery shopping , laundry & whining.

The blogosphere is no stranger to families who have suffered the loss of a child. In fact one of the very first blogs I ever read was about a mother who lost one of her triplets {Multiple Baby Pileup} I started reading that blog in December 2007 shortly after finding out I was pregnant with Phoenix.  And then of course we can’t forget Angie Smith & the story of her sweet Audrey Caroline. Another blog I started reading when I was pregnant with Phoenix {not a good idea}.

I know I only touched on two of the hundreds of tragic stories I’m sure are out there. They always seem to break my heart, move me, make me think a little longer & hold everyone I love a little closer.

But for some reason Anna & her family haunts my mind.

Maybe it’s because this accident happened not far from a place I once called home.

Maybe it’s because I think about how this very easily could have been my little sister who loves to play outside.

Maybe it’s because the family set up a fund for Jack & the bank they use is my bank.

I know that sounds stupid. A bank. But it’s small local bank, they only have two locations in Northern VA. The managers know me & my Dad by name. This could have been us.

All of this coming at the same time my 3 year old has discovered death & dying. And if you have ever had a 3 year old ask about death or pretend to be “dead” it can be scary, unnerving. 

He doesn’t yet know how final that word is. How it’s not just a game of him falling to the floor, announcing his death & having me pick up & move on. It’s final.

And unexpected.

Learning about Anna & her family has put me in a different mindset this month, not a fearful place, but a place of absolute surrender to a life that might not be here much longer so drink it in while I have it place.

It goes without saying that if you have a few moments I’m sure Anna would appreciate any kind words you have, prayer, thoughts, & maybe even a contribution to Jack’s fund.