grass is greener

Do you ever have moments where you don’t like your life?
Or moments you don’t like who you’ve become?
I just want out.
I don’t want a husband.
I don’t want kids.
I want to work in a pub outside of London and smoke cigarettes.
I want to wear a faded vintage t-shirt, sequin skirt, and boots.
Alone.

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Proud Mama

We’ve been here before.
It’s an all too familiar place.
It just didn’t happen so quickly the last time.
Regression.
The death sentence of Sanfilippo.
The last six months have been rough for Brooklyn.
The last six months have been difficult to watch for everyone that loves her.

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Whisper

Have you ever felt God moving you in a direction you feel under qualified? 
 
Maybe even scared? 
 
A direction that seems impractical or a bit too audacious?
 
I sure do right now.  
 
For years, I have felt a little whisper in my heart to write.  To actually take my writing seriously.  Maybe even write a book.  In fact, this isn’t the first time I am writing about writing.  Maybe it’s writer’s block, or confidence block, or obedience block, but I never seem to go ALL IN. 
 

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I deserve it

A lot of well meaning people have told us, we deserve it. We deserve a handicapped house. We deserve a vacation. We deserve a “normal” child….. 

We deserve medical aide, a hand out, a help up, or even a break. Or, we deserve that extra fill-in-the-blank, that pricey whatchamacallit, or that unpractical wish. 

Many more times than I’d like to admit, I tell myself I deserve stuff too.
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Tension

I wonder how long it has been since I stopped. 
Stopped long enough to really spend time with a children’s book.
Stopped to play with play doh.
Stopped to really look at my child.
Until Monday morning.
Mondays have turned into my favorite day. The best start to my week is slow.  I get to sit in my pj’s and cuddle with Ellie.  Most of the time it is for a few minutes during Fresh Beat Band. Then I get up and start. Manage the calendar. Start the Laundry. Grocery shop. On a good day, I run.

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Courage

cour·age. ˈkərij,ˈkə-rij/. noun.
the ability to do something that frightens one.
“she called on all her courage to face the ordeal”
strength in the face of pain or grief.
“he fought his illness with great courage”
bravery, courageousness, pluck, pluckiness, valor, fearlessness, trepidity, nerve, daring, audacity, boldness, grit, truegrit, heroism, gallantry

The color purple represents “courage” in the MPS world. And many days, I don’t think I have much of it.

Like today.

I realized this morning, that I am struggling to “like” one of my children. Sure, I love her, but I am getting so tired of her “naughty” that I find it hard to want to be around her. Parents, can I get an “Amen”? She hits. She kicks. She talks back. She rips paper. She colors on everything. She is constantly seeking food. She antagonizes her sister, and “mother’s” her brother: both induce crying from her siblings. She is not winning the race for “most liked” in the Boyce home these days. She tells me “no” and “stop it”. All the time. And she want what she wants, when she wants it. Of course, she is way better at school. I even tried to sell her to Ama yesterday.

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buried dreams

Five years into Sanfilippo, the reality of “no treatment or no cure” has become a safe place for us.  We aren’t scared of this world anymore.

Holland, is home.
We gathered our worldly dreams for Jayden and Brooklyn and mentally buried them 6ft. under.

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My Birthday Breakdown

 

Because of the nature of my job, Justin never gets to go on overnight retreats with our high schoolers.  I am in charge of all the details from booking, to schedules, permission slips, etc….except for our fall retreat. Fall retreat is with a number of other area churches and I don’t have a lot to do with the actual weekend so the option was open for Justin, instead of me, to go. So, with my blessing, he went but that meant all three kids, all weekend for me. Stubborn as I am, I really wanted to do this whole weekend with no help. I mean, I am their mom, how hard could this be?!

 

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hospital love.

 

I am weird, {for more than this reason, I know} but I really like hospitals.  I like being the patient and the mother.  I feel safe. When I am the patient, I have trained people caring for me and I don’t burden my loved ones.  I am also more forgiving and patient with strangers, and a sucker for pain meds.

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