Positively (Im)perfect

Life has felt challenging lately. There are, of course, the everyday tasks that never quite get done. The laundry and dishes and cleaning and upkeep, the balancing of school schedules and volunteer events. But the most draining (for all parties involved) are the late nights twice a week when my husband goes straight from work to grad school, the 20-day "weeks" that blur together when he has a drill weekend, my own health issues that suddenly require so much extra time and effort, and our new mission to become our daughter's greatest advocate. It feels like like I've been trying to run from the avalanche for so long, but it's finally caught up with me. I know I'm not buried yet--I know I'm still at the surface, and I know I can dig out of it. But digging out is tough. It seems like a never-ending process. And I am tired. So very, very tired. But you know what? It's okay to feel tired.  It's okay to feel stressed. It's okay to sit t...

You might have already seen it, but there is a picture  (<--worth clicking on to see) of Pope Francis embracing a little boy with Cerebral Palsy that has quickly gone viral this week. It happened on Easter Sunday as Pope Francis was driving through the crowd in his Popemobile greeting people at the Vatican after celebrating Easter Mass. Since the picture was taken, countless news agencies and social media outlets have picked up the story, including CNN, FOX, and Huffington Post to name a few. (You can see the event in the first few seconds of this video) I personally read about the encounter in this post , where the boy's own father, Paul Gondreau, writes about the moment the Pope embraced his son Dominic. He details how it affected him and everyone around them, and is absolutely worth your time if you have a minute to read the entire post. This portion stuck out to me most: Why is the whole world so moved by images of this embrace? A woman in the Square, moved ...

What the world needs now is love, sweet [real] love... In Greek, it's called agape . In wedding vows, it's called "for better or for worse." In life, it's called reality . We all love us some romantic love--called  eros  in Greek. Affection, flirtation, flowers, chocolate...it's all very attractive. And it's the spice that any good relationship needs to have sprinkled throughout. But when it comes down to it, life isn't always romantic. We don't live in a movie. Real life can be messy. Real life needs real love. Agape . A giving kind of love. Because romantic love only gets us so far... I had the pleasure of reflecting on real love last week while spending some extended time bonding with the bathroom floor. I was the last Chosen One in the family to have a militant stomach bug bestowed upon me, and I was down for the count. It was a long, long day. Even in my misery, I could only sleep for so long, and watching the sun and shadows cr...

I used to have a good memory. Well, technically, I still do. But it seems reserved for only the long-term memories: all those things I could care less about remembering, or ancient memories like turning two (no kidding). I vividly remember my second birthday--I lived in Italy, wore a pale pink dress, and was smiling from ear to ear as my mother brought out the teal and peach teddy bear cake that she'd made for me. My husband jokes that I always remember the most obscure details of memories, like what someone else was wearing or what I was eating, and my brother jokes that I remember everything for him since he can't recall a thing from our childhood. Regardless, it seems like my good memory is stuck in the past, because in recent years my pregnancy-turned-mommy-brain has taken over life, and all the memories that seem to matter most--save those crystal clear childhood ones--are gone with the wind. This pains me, especially when it comes to memories of my kids. It...

Have you ever wondered what you can possibly say or do for a friend whose spouse has been injured or killed in combat? Or as a result of some other devastating tragedy? I know how often I have been at a loss for what to say or do, and how worried I've been that I might say the wrong thing. Two amazing women who have survived the worst were generous enough to contribute some valuable insights, weighing in on the dos and don'ts of helping someone whose world has been shattered. Read their tips in my final post of the "How to Help a Hurting Friend" series over at Ms.MommyHH6 , an incredible site for military moms. I learned a ton, and I hope the amazing things these brave women chose to share can help another survivor out there, too. You can also catch the first two installments: Part I - "How to Help a Hurting Friend - Child Loss" Part II -  "How to Help a Hurting Friend - Surviving Deployment"

I'm currently writing a three-part guest post series for Raven over at Ms.MommyHH6 --a great place for military moms (and any mom, really) to share about real life, get some awesome advice for running a home, and just support each other in our needs. This week's installment of "How to Help a Hurting Friend - Surviving a Deployment" features ways to help a military mom when her spouse is deployed, as well as tips to get through it yourself if you're the one left alone. So check it out, and don't forget to leave Raven some love while you're there!

I'm not a big-time runner, so I don't really know what it's like to train for a marathon. But I do know that it takes a lot of guts to even sign up. And after that it takes a ton of hard work, sweat, and sheer determination to make it through the countless hours and miles required to be race-day ready. So I was beyond impressed when my friend Kristin , who started running this past February, quickly set a goal of running the Chicago Marathon on October 7th, 2012--less than a year after becoming a "real" runner. Even though I don't know what it's like to pour my life into training for a marathon, I can imagine how absolutely devastating it is to have that dream abruptly yanked out from under your feet. Which is exactly what happened to Kristin. Precisely 453.5 miles into her training and two months out from race day, she learned that what she thought was a pulled muscle was really a stress fracture that would probably cause her hip to break if she kept ...