If you read my last post, you’ll know I was seeing red and smoking like a chimney. My anger was like a time bomb settled deep in my chest. I was aware of the weight, aware of its presence, but it was too big for me to get out myself, it had nothing left to
Category: Lessons Learned
This being the first year I’ve been systematic in turning lessons learned into mantras, I decided what better way to start of ZenMamaMantras in 2018 than with the ones I’ve developed based on lessons learned in 2017? Especially since 2017 was one of the most blessed and most difficult years of my adult life.
I wanted it. So naturally, I was telling myself, “Oh! I want it!” But in the moment before our hostess, Tracy pulled a name, I adjusted and told myself, “I am going to get that angel.”
I knew this. I knew having kids would be messy.
What I didn’t expect was discovering the petrified half-eaten slices of bologna in the Lego box. What I didn’t expect more, was for this to happen on a somewhat regular basis.
I’m a big fan of coaches. Life coaches, health coaches, career coaches, yoga coaches, etc. After almost two-and-a-half years of therapy, I was tired of examining the past and at the right time, two fantastic coaches entered my life. My career coach explained to me the difference between therapy and coaching was exactly that. Therapy focuses on your past and coaching focuses on your present to future.
What I do know, is the greatest honor I can give his memory is to never forget how short life is. How fleeting our opportunities to be with people we love are. How lucky I am to have a spark of light for a husband. How lucky I am that I got to know Sam and I’m getting to know Susan better now. How lucky I am to have kids, and a mom, and a mother-in-law, and friends to drive me crazy!
Natalie Henry-Charles is giving up on trying to fit into one checkbox and giving in to the process of motherhood.
I’m sharing my letter and the names here in hopes that if you read this and you’re going to send a letter of your own to your Congresspeople, you copy it and send it with yours. Let’s flood Congress with the humanity behind these massacres.
I could barely hear her words through the sobs, but I already knew what she was telling me. They were once my words, coming now out of her mouth. “He won’t be here for Christmas.” “My son won’t know his father.” “What am I gonna do?” I tried to answer with support and without crying.
Guest post by Arielle Haughee a double boy-mom who is busting through the forced happiness trap.