First, love yourself…

Let’s be real and talk about the mom life struggle. Yeah you know the real stuff, the stuff no one tells you is going to happen to your BODY! The stretch marks, the wide hips, the bladder control issues, the boobs…or lack thereof. I mean I’m sorry I love my kids, but dangit they do a toll on the woman’s body. That body that we lure our husbands in with…oh I mean our minds…right definitely our brains gets em. Come on ladies let’s be honest when we become mothers it is yes beautiful and miraculous but um it’s also something that can leave us feeling very ugly about ourselves. 

Body shaming (to ourselves) can lead to so many issues…depression of course, binge eating, anorexia, or even the need to surgically change ourselves. For me it played a big roll in my divorce or so I thought at the time.

Let me back up a bit…to before my first marriage ended. I had, had two kids. I gained probably 30 lbs with those pregnancies. The affects of pregnancy are not always noticed right away, because for me it was like one lb added on to another and after time there I was, the same weight when I was 9 months pregnant with my last, no baby in my belly (just a food baby). I found myself spending more money on clothes that I thought would make me feel better about myself. Listen, before anyone jumps down my throat for being the “skinny girl” who gained some weight, I’m here to tell you that no matter your size we all are self conscious! I can be skinny fat! It’s allowed, so back off!! We as women are all unhappy about something on our body. 


 

So about a year before the big D…divorce, I decided to join my local CrossFit gym. I started going once a day and within months my body was changing for the good! Then I started twice a day. It consumed me. Nothing else mattered as much as those gym sessions because for the first time in a long time I felt like I could look hot for my husband again! 

I do not by any means want to bash on my ex, but I felt for some reason I needed to look good for him to notice me, again. Our love life had fizzled and so getting in shape seemed to be the answer! I was of course ridiculously wrong. This mindset I think gets so many of us women in trouble! We think “if I look good, my husband will love me more” it sounds crazy quite frankly when you say it out loud, yet we keep thinking it! I wish sometimes I could go back and slap my former self for some of my ludicrous thought processes. 

Anyway…obviously getting fit didn’t save my marriage. I struggled with all of it for a few months after…what was wrong with me? I had gotten in the best shape of my life and he didn’t want me? I compared myself to his wife now too. I know I know!! But come on divorced ladies we all do this! She’s this tiny little thing who can eat a whole bag of potato chips and lose weight and I was so jealous of her body!  It is I think normal as women to envy other women’s bodies. However when it gets to a point where we hate ourselves more because we are constantly comparing ourselves to others that is when we enter the danger zone! That was my problem. I was approaching it all wrong. The question I should have been asking is “why don’t I like myself?”  

Something I have since learned is that we as women need to first love ourselves before we can be loved by others. We seek this affirmation from others and approval from our spouse as to quite the Demons that tell us otherwise, but the truth is, if we can’t silence that negativity in our head then no one is going to be able to do it for us. Infact they will probably get sick of constantly arguing how good we look to us. Oh you women know what I’m talking about…

“Do I look ok babe?”

“Yes you look beautiful!”

“Oh you’re just saying that because your my husband”

“No really you look great!”

“Ugh…I’m going to change.”

LADIES!!!! WHY?!! 

Thank the heavens I came to my senses. Yes, it was too late to salvage my first marriage and no my body was not the reason I got divorced, as much as I’d like to think it was. Looking back I know my ex husband didn’t care about that, but I think I cared too much for the both of us. I couldn’t change it now, but going forward I decided to just love myself. 

I’ve spent these last 3 years now focused on loving me. It’s been an uphill battle that sometimes I fall on my butt and slide down the hill a bit, but I’ve learned to always get back up. Find what it is that makes you feel good! For me, it’s eating right! For me, I knew if I could change my eating habits I could change my life. I started the WHOLE30 meal plans and fit in some kickboxing too, but no more crazy two a days as the CrossFit queen. Now I’m just doing me. Some of my friends have asked me to post the results…this is my result…I feel amazing. What does the number on the scale matter?! I can’t believe I cut out the grains, dairy, sugar, and legumes for a month, but I am dang proud of myself for it. That’s what I’m talking about here! We need to be proud of ourselves and our accomplishments that make us feel amazing! Screw the scale. 

As for my husbands approval, I don’t ask. Although he is constantly complimenting me, I know that if I wore a brown sac he’d love me or if I put on that 30lbs again he would still hold me close at night. Infact this guy…swoon…He secretly bought me a swimsuit I’d had my eye on for a long time as his way of saying “you did it babe, and I’m so proud of you” not “now you look hot so you can wear this”. So, honestly what’s changed the most is how I look at myself naked in the mirror. 

That’s right, stand in front of your mirror naked and just look at your gorgeous body ladies! Examine yourself. I know this sounds crazy, but don’t think about your pre baby body, look at the body you have earned. The body you spent 9 months as a human incubator for, the body that makes you pee when you laugh, the body that cracks when ya walk up the stairs, the body God gave you. Find something that makes you proud to have that body. Even if it’s only one thing…find it and own it. Your body is just that, yours. None of us are alike and thank you God for that. What a freaking boring world that would be! 

It’s not easy to love ourselves. Especially after babies, or divorce, but it is possible. A woman who loves herself is noticeably glowing and radiant. I have seen these women, they come in all shapes and sizes but they have one thing in common, the smile that tells their story of positivity and triumph over it all! I want to be this kind of woman! Don’t you?! 

We women are a force to be reckoned with! Don’t let anyone, or anything tell you you’re not pretty enough! Mommas we must unite and own these stretch marks, and saggy boobs, cuz ain’t no diet or exercise gonna change those things! Yet, remember love yourself above all else, whatever diet or exercise or ice cream binging you are doing, do it for you!! 


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The New Normal

This past Sunday as I was sitting in sacrament enjoying the testimonies of members in the ward, I noticed an adorable family a few rows ahead of us. The little boy had light suit on and his perfect part was almost as perfect as his smile that he kept giving his older sister sitting next to him, she must of been about 11 with her golden hair that cascaded down her back. She sat so reverently and although I could only see the back of her head I could tell she was beautiful. Next to her was Mom, who looked like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine, with her edgy short hair cut and beautiful earrings that hung down past her hair line. You know the type of woman where you just wonder what her secret to Sunday morning perfection is? Then sat Dad with what appeared to be the exact same color suit as their young son…matching father son, how cute. Although everyone else was sitting quietly and paying attention, Dad was being distracted by another cute little blonde. Younger than her older sister, but with the same long gorgeous hair. She couldn’t seem to sit still and was bugging Dad. He didn’t seem to mind though and leaned over kissing her on the forehead. I couldn’t help but stare at them all, and for a brief moment I wanted to be them, this adorable family enjoying fast and testimony meeting together. Then the oldest girl stood up, and walked to the pulpit to share her testimony. She was just as beautiful as I had thought she was, blue eyes, cute little dimple when she smiled. Her testimony brought tears to my eyes, as she experessed her gratitude for her family. Her entire family. You see, she wasn’t referring just to the one she was sitting with, but to Brandon (her step dad), and me (her mom). Although she went and sat back down with her dad and stepmom, I wasn’t sad, or frustrated, or even jealous, because I knew that next week we would be that family sitting together during Sacrament. It has become my new normal, and honestly my heart is so happy that we can do this for our kids. 

As I sat on Sunday and thought about my crazy situation and all that has come with coparenting, and how, to me, switching every other week doesn’t seem that odd, or going to church all together doesn’t seem crazy, I wondered why it was so easy for me? I’m asked, “How do you do it?”, or commended about my relationship with our exes, to often to count, but to me the simple response is…”It’s the right thing to do.” Yet, I know it’s also because I’ve been taught by good parents, and grandparents that family comes first. 

The Saturday before this sacrament Sunday I was referring to earlier, my grandmother, my last living grandparent, passed away at the age of 94. So maybe I was feeling a little more sentimental on Sunday than normal, but her passing really got me thinking about my childhood. 

My parents met in 2nd grade and well the rest is history (epic history because they made ME of course), but with them meeting so young it only made sense that both sets of grandparents to me lived only blocks from each other. So when my parents decided to move to the same neighborhood I not only got to go to all the same schools as them, but I had the blessing of being close to my grandparents, all of them. I don’t remember any event or important function that my grandma’s weren’t at. I was definitely spoiled by them, so much so I knew if mom didn’t give it to me, my chances were good with either grandma just right up the road. 

Not only did I have them each close, but Holidays we spent ALL together. On Thanksgiving or Christmas, it was my mom’s mom and my dad’s mom, and any and all aunts and uncles all enjoying The holiday together at one house. I don’t ever remember having to split that time. Maybe when we were younger and grandparents were younger, it was that way, but I don’t remember that. What I remember is both my grandmas sitting next to each other with their TV trays, watching the kids open gifts, and laughing and talking to each other as friends. 

My grandma’s were however completely opposite of each other. One that barely hit 5 ft tall, the other stood at least 5’7 in her prime (maybe taller). One who didn’t know how to throw a baseball, the other an avid athlete. One who was a stay at home mom, the other working with the rough railroad men who referred to her as “Butch”.  One woman was a God fearing woman, the other…well, I’m pretty sure God feared her. Two very different women, but yet still every Friday got their hair done by the same hair dresser. Heaven forbid their hair was not perfect! 

I learned something from each of these women, separately of course, but together they taught me a lesson I’m sure they had no idea they even realized they were teaching. That was, that family comes first. They could put away differences for their kids and grandkids and just enjoy each others company and enjoy spending time with their family. I don’t think I even knew that it wasn’t “normal” for families to share holidays until I got married and realized, my family is unique. 

I truly believe God put me in this family because he knew I needed these two grandmothers to show me what unconditional love looks like. So that when I would go through something like divorce where I could pick to be difficult and make my kids pick and choose, that I wouldn’t do that, that I would choose love.

I didn’t learn to coparent because my parents are divorced though because they aren’t, and I didn’t learn it because my grandparents were divorce, because they weren’t. I learned that two families can come together and be one, because that is what my family did. They didn’t talk about it, or preach it to us, they showed me and my brother with their actions. So you see it isn’t hard for me to have a relationship with our exes because they love the kids just as much as we do and we are all one family essentially. 

As an era closes with the passing of my grandma, I know that the legacy she left shows through to all her grandchildren and now to her great grandchildren. I know it is now my responsibility to instill the same lessons taught to me through her actions, in my kids. 

I want my grandparents to be proud of the woman I am, the mother I am, and the coparent I am. I hope they know that they made me who I am and made me be a better person through their example. The circle of life is inevitable, but the type of circle we  make is up to us, and I want mine to be all inclusive, encircling all those I love. 

Normal is all in the eye of the beholder right? Why can’t my life, my so called “crazy” situation of being friends with my exes and inclusive be the new normal? Either way, I choose this “normal” life for my kids, because I’m pretty sure they have no idea how blessed they are yet, and who knows how my posterity will be effected by my choices today. 

So just like my sweet 10 year old daughter said in her testimony Sunday, I too am grateful for my entire family. I know that families can be together forever. I’ll see you again Grandma. Until then, I’ll follow in your footsteps. 


A Love Letter To The Last Love of My Life

To my husband,

The overwhelming love I have for you is not something I can adequately put into words, but I am going to try. 

Sometimes when a divorcée gets remarried it’s looked upon as a second chance to get it right, and maybe In a way it is, yet, even though you are my second marriage I have so many firsts with you. My first long distance relationship, my first Seether concert, my first ND fair experience, my first single mom meltdown (when you talked me down from my own crazy ledge), the first time we watched Marley and Me together and you cried like a baby, my first tattoo, the first time you touched my face, the first time you kissed my lips, the first time you said you loved me, the first time you held me, the first time in a long time I felt wanted by a man, and of course our first secret getaway.

I still remember every second of every detail of how I fell for you. I remember the moment it turned from acquaintances with the same struggles, to best friends falling in love. How we went from talking about “them”, to it just being “us”.  Oh how I love us.  

I remember that first weekend. I remember the way I felt waiting to meet you for the first time since we fell for each other so many miles apart. I sat in the lobby of that rustic mountain hotel waiting…waiting to know if this feeling was true, waiting to know if we were just crazy, waiting for what I didn’t realize at the time was my life to change forever. 

You walked in confidently with your cowboy boots on (I love you in cowboy boots), but just as nervous as me. You wrapped your arms around me and I knew. I knew that was it for me, that from that day on I was yours,because I fit perfectly in your arms, and I felt home right there in the middle of Montana, right there in your arms. That weekend with you changed me. I knew that the struggles I had, that the mountains I would have to climb, and that in any and all obstacles in my life I would not be alone, I knew we were in it together. Many don’t know about that weekend. The time we told only our closest friends we were meeting, the time we decided to make a choice all on our own with no outside opinions as to what we wanted in life. The hike through the mountains, the hot pools, being together just us with Gallatin National Forest as our backdrop of what has and will always be the most romantic weekend of my life. We’ve kept it pretty hush hush (I guess until now), but I hope you know that weekend in Montana was by far the best first moment of our life together. Those mountains of Montana will always hold a special place in my heart. 

You’re always the first to know how I feel. Sometimes it’s easy in a relationship to get stuck on someone’s past. To dwell on the already happened instead of what’s happening, but my past is your past, my pain is your pain, my triumphs are yours. You have always been the first to recognize God’s hand in our life, and in our coming together. I know I can talk (or blog) about our past and you never think I’m hung up on someone else, or that I can’t get over it. You know exactly how I feel and have always encouraged me to express myself in this way and allowed me to share our story with the world. Although I hate that you know the same pain as me, having your empathy is one of the best gifts you could give me.

You are the first person I want to tell anything to. When something exciting happens I want to call and tell you. When I’m pissed off at an annoying table I had to wait on at work, I want to tell you. You can calm me down, you can build me up, and you are the first one to have my back.

The first time I cried in front of you…I hate doing that by the way…and the way you just held me and didn’t try to fix it, but just told me it was going to be okay. That was a terrible and beautiful first for us. A first that let me know it probably wouldn’t be the last but that we’d always “figure it out”, together. 

The first time I saw you interact with my kids made me fall deeper in love with you. Watching not only you love them over these past few years, but the way they love you, takes my breath away. And the first time I saw you raising your sons, I realized chivalry is not dead. That you are raising gentlemen just like yourself. The first time we did FaceTime with your oldest son when we moved to NJ and the look on your face after…I could feel your love and longing to be closer to him. I still see and feel it in your eyes. I know you doubt yourself as a dad sometimes, but you are doing a good job. I hope you know nothing is more attractive than you being a father. 

The first time as a family when we knelt in prayer together. Hearing you ask the Lord to watch over us, your family. As you have developed a deeper love in God I feel more loved as your wife. You have always been a giver, and I love your generous heart. 

Although there are so many firsts for me with you, it’s true, you were not my first love, but you are my last. And to be someone’s last…well there is something so beautiful and special in that. 

I remember when you said you wanted to marry me, and I said to you, that the next time I am married I want to be very married, I wanted the fairy tale. I knew my girls would be watching me, watching the kind of man I would end up with. I needed the Prince Charming not just for me, but for them to see that it is possible to be loved so deeply. You give that to me everyday. From the first goodbye kiss in the morning, when you brush my wild hair away from my face and never rush the moment (even if you’re running late), but so gently and quietly kiss me…the kiss after work, when you hold me tight and kiss me just long enough to embarrass the kids…to the goodnight kiss that has equal emotion and depth at the end of a long day, I know I am a very married and a very loved woman. Thank you for giving me the happily after…the after. 

If I had a choice to go through it all again knowing the hurt it would take to get here, and knowing how crazy our lives would get, I would. I choose you, I choose crazy. I can’t wait for the many more firsts to come, and for our everlasting love. 

Love, 

Your wife

Hitting “The Gym” again! 

You know when you wanna work out and get in shape and so you go sign up for the gym membership, buy cute new clothes (cuz My fat butt’s gotta look good at least), but then there’s that first step of actually going to the gym? You have to like find the time. As if! Why is it that we seem to have endless amounts of time until we sign that 12 month membership? Time is suddenly as precious as gold! I’m telling you, Satan is a fat couch potato who runs all his evil doings with a remote control and he just flips through our lives and when he sees us sign up for that booty boot camp, he stops and throws his cheetos at the TV while yelling, “oh no you didn’t! I want everyone to be fat and unhappy like me!”. Then he pushes slow motion on the channel of our life. It literally takes us pulling a move straight outta “The Ring” (if you haven’t seen it, watch it with the lights on) and crawling through the tv just to stop his madness and get our booties in shape! Well I’d like to relate working out or more so getting in shape to My personal experience of going to the Temple. Stay with me…

I dunno if we’ve established this yet or if you’ve never read any other posts, but I’m Mormon. I was born and raised in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. However, I would say that it wasn’t until a little over a year ago that I was truly converted. Gasp! But Jessie, you say, you were sealed in the temple to your first Husband and all that jazz?! I was indeed. I remember my first time going through the temple. I remember how important it was to my parents, to my fiancé parents, to him, and to most of the people I grew up with. At 19 however, I don’t think I personally knew the importance of it.

I was a rebellious and crazy teen. If I could call my parents everyday and apologize for my behavior from about age 15-18 I would, but I think at some point they’d tell me to stop. Needless to say when I met my first husband, the good ole Mormon Farm boy, my family was thrilled. We both knew that the right thing to do was to marry in the Temple, and so we did. And ya know what, it was beautiful. I will never regret it. I will never take that from my girls. For me to say I regret being sealed to their dad is to say I regret being sealed to them.

Side note: Mormon Temples are places worthy members of our religion make covenants or promises to our Lord. One of those sacred covenants is a sealing or marriage. We believe that marriage does not have to be “Death do us Part” but that families can be together through eternity. 

Anyway…so here I was 19, doing all the right steps. I had been raised with amazing values and parents who were righteous followers of God. I leaned on them…a lot! I think I leaned on them for my faith as well. I’m not saying the first time I went to the temple I didn’t believe, I’m just saying I don’t think I understood everything and I hadn’t taken the time to truly search and find my own testimony of the temple and church, I was just kinda going through the motions if that makes any sense? 

So you see I do remember going through the temple for the first time in July 2004, but I also vividly remember going through for the last time in October 2013. 

My husband of 9 years was leaving me. The news had barely sank in and I found myself in the Idaho Falls temple sitting next to my sister in law at the time, trying to find an answer and beg for God to fix my life! Things like this don’t happen to women who are doing all the right things? I choose a righteous husband, had two beautiful girls, served in callings, paid my tithing, and performed lots of service for crying out loud…ya know…the motions. That’s all it was looking back. But at the time I remember sitting in the temple and not really praying but almost demanding God fix this! I almost laughed as I sat and listened to the covenants being made thinking “well obviously it doesn’t even matter”. Why did I come here, if my life was just going to unravel anyway?! 

I left the temple that day and never went back…until today. 

Three and half years later I found myself ready to enter into The House of The Lord. This time though I knew it had to be for me. I have had my recommend (it’s like my ticket to get in to the temple) since September, but had only gone to do baptisms. I had been having a hard time Deciding when to go. It was like that dang gym membership! I had signed up for the membership but just needed to walk through that front door! So when I heard that some of the other women in my ward were making a trip I knew it was my chance. I needed a brand new temple dress that I had bought hemmed and asked a lady in my ward to help me out. I wanted to look good, just like that first day back at the gym! Anyway, the hemming was too short and I had a full on girl moment when I realized it was ruined (ps not the lady’s fault I told her the wrong length)! After my husband consoled my inner pathetic whining girl and bought me a new one (yeah I love him), I know I can rent, but I’m “that” girl, I was ready for the Temple trip!

5am. Yep we were leaving the church at 5am. Satan had obviously come across my life at this point while scrolling through looking for a life to disrupt. He thought for sure that early morning time would stop me. NOPE. I’ll get everything ready the night before and set three alarms…then Satan threw his bag of cheetos at me. 

My alarm never went off! My phone charger was not plugged in (dang kids), and so my phone died. Yet, somehow I woke up at exactly 5am. I had missed the meeting up at the church, but after finding out they didn’t need me to drive I told them I’d meet them at the Temple! I had literally 15 minutes to get ready and leave to make it to the Philadelphia Temple’s 7am session. The thought did cross my mind…I’m not going to make it, maybe I shouldn’t go. My husband (who was jolted awake by my gasps of panic from waking up late) encouraged me to go. Did I mention how much I love him? Alright Satan not so fast. I somehow made it out the door with everything I needed in time! The roads the entire way were clear and hardly any traffic! I know it was 5:30 in the morning but I live in the highest populated area in the country so it was a pretty big deal! I made it. Time to spare. I was able to breath a bit easier as I rounded the corner and saw this view of the temple all lit up in the heart of historic Philadelphia. 

As I pulled into the temple parking garage I couldn’t help but think “Eat that Satan!” 

So here I was kinda frazzled, trying to hurry and get dressed. And get into the session in time. I hadn’t really had time to appreciate the moment. 

So the session lasts about an hour and a half…about 15 min in my stomach decided to channel its inner whale. Breakfast. I hadn’t had any in my rush to leave. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat trying to take in everything and yet hide the grumbling. The Temple in case ya didn’t know is a very quite reverant place,  so you can imagine the sounds echoing…it was spectacular. This is not how I imagined this morning going. 

Now it’s almost time to enter the celestial room. The most beautiful part of the Temple. I say a little prayer to God, asking to calm my stomach and give me peace. I instantly started to feel full and my stomach calmed down. I was able to enjoy the last moments of the session. 

As I entered the Celestial Room, I was instantly overcome with emotion. I had never felt like that before. It was a rush of happiness mixed with gratitude. I sat down, grabbed some tissues, and silently thanked my Heavenly Father for this second chance. It was the most beautiful and spiritual moment I’ve ever had at the Temple.

As I sat staring up at the beautiful chandelier I knew that this time would be different. This time it was for me. I had started this journey back on my own. My husband now has joined me of course, but It wasn’t just “the motions” this time. I had a change of heart. The road these past 3 years, has been long and hard with a few potholes along the way and sometimes Ive thought Im not sure I can do it or if it was going to be worth it. Yet, it was then in that room this morning that I could feel God saying how proud he was of me, and I was proud of myself. That feeling alone made it all worth it! 

I feel like I took the first step today. I went to “the gym” today for the first time in a long time. I want to tell all those who think it can never happen for you, that you won’t ever be able to enter the Temple again, that you can! You are stronger than Satan! Crawl outta that TV, where your life is on pause and scare the crap outta fat Satan sitting on his couch thrown! I know that his biggest fear is us taking control of our lives and turning our hearts to God and becoming spiritualy fit. We women, and I’m going to be bold and say especially us divorced women are a force to be reckoned with when it comes to putting God first. That’s why Satan try’s so hard to stop us. 

Today I gave Satan the finger (I’m sorry I’m still a little rough around the edges) and I took control and changed the channel…Infact I changed my life. 

Team Mom

I am going to be the first to admit it, my life is straight up crazy. Let’s put aside the fact that I have married my ex husbands wifes ex husband, and focus on the fact that I can actually hang out with my ex husbands wife! You’re probably thinking um what the what?! Yeah that’s right, we have gone to dinner together, take the kids to activities together, and I even slept in the same bed as her when we had a girls trip with some mutual friends to NYC last year. First of all…no. No to what you’re thinking. There will be no twist in this story like…oh snap we fell for each other. As much as that would just add to this Lifetime Original we have going, I’m sorry to disappoint, but that is just not the case. 

What you all have to keep in mind is Her and I were friends before all of this switchero (that’s a word I’m almost positive). Have I wanted to punch her in her beautiful face a time or two, or do the ole’ dog poop in a bag and light it on fire then ding dong ditch trick? Of course. Not recently have I felt that way though, so if she’s reading this…rest easy and don’t be afraid to answer your door at night.  But come on I’m not Mother Teresa people! I have had my moments where I didn’t think nice things. Yet people change. 

I know that concept it so hard to fathom, change. Having kids changed me, Divorce changed me, my husband now changed me, and finding God again has changed me. We are constantly changing through life so why can’t my kids step mother and I’s relationship change too? Where does it say I must be angry at her the rest of my life? Show me the book that says divorce means you will forever be bitter? I’m not reading it if it exists anyway. Instead I’m writing my own book in life called, Team Mom, Two is Better Than One.

I’ve been thinking about this for awhile, how can I live a life constantly in competition with Her? Let’s face it, we as women love to compete against one other. Yet for what? I’ve had her man and she’s had mine. …Insert awkward pause…

The only thing we could possibly compete for is the love of our children. Lord knows this was a struggle for me in the early days of divorce and shared parenting, but as I’ve seen the dinamic of my kids with her and hers with me I have realized there’s nothing to worry about. The love of children is so all encompassing and pure just like The simple love of Christ and they love us both in our own ways. The kids aren’t splitting their love up and dividing it amongst us, with me getting 50% and her getting the other 50%. No way! We both get 100% all the time, and there is something so beautiful about that. 

She and I have really come far over the years. We really have a lot of reasons to not get along, but those three reasons that call us mom are what have really helped our relationship grow. We still have moments where we have different opinions or where we honestly might not like something the other said or did, but for the most part we’ve really become a parenting duo (dads included of course) to be reckoned with. 

Not many kids with divorced parents can say they have memories of both moms taking them to the movies all together…


Or going Ice Skating together…


One of the best things about all this is our united front as mom’s. When parents don’t get a long through divorce especially, it becomes an easy game for kids to pit one against the other. When mom’s house doesn’t allow something it’s much easier to go ask Dads house because they don’t talk anyway and would never know! Ha! Our poor poor kids will hopefully never be able to pull this trick. Oh sure the teen years are fast approaching and surely one of us will tick a kid off to the point they may try to pick one parent over the other in hopes to break us down. However, these early stages of friendship and momma bonding are preparing us for those moments.

I can’t tell you how many times the kids have tried the whole “Mom Lindsey said I could do this…” only for me to reply, “oh really? Let’s call her and see exactly what was said”. I do of course, or she calls me and the kids are caught in their lie. As they get older their slowly starting to figure out that stuff doesn’t fly. 

So call us crazy (our husbands do), but I have a feeling our crazy is just what some divorced mom’s wish they had. I know this life is not ideal for many, and that it takes two to make a relationship like this work, and luckily the other mom is a willing participant to this craziness. Yet, it’s not all easy and just like every relationship it takes work. 

The other day I noticed the girls had put a picture (I dunno where they found it) from a work party a while ago on their nightstand in between their bed… 


… a picture of both their moms acting silly together. The work, the effort, the forgiveness, the friendship, it’s all worth it when you see things like this. 

I often think of the mothers in my life and how although I have my one and only amazingly beautiful mother who has become my best friend, I know there are so many other mothers who have impacted my life. God didn’t intend for us mothers to be alone in all this. He’s given us a team of women to help and support us. I am truly blessed to have another mom helping me raise our children right along side me. I think God knew I needed all the help I could get! 


#teammom 

Two Families, one Christmas

Last night was Christmas Eve. My husband and I wrapped all the Christmas gifts for the kids. They aren’t at our house this year, they are with their other parents, so we could take our time and start at 6 rather than 9 or 10 when they would of finally fallen asleep, yet still somehow it took us till midnight to do this and no I didn’t have an abnormal amount of gifts but rather a perfectionist of a husband. Let’s just say my gifts look like a T-Rex wrapped em, while his might have well been entered into a gift wrapping contest, I love it (and him), however I knew the little people unwrapping them were not going to comment on the gift wrapping. Nonetheless (5 hours later) we wrote the kids names on each one, put them in a big Santa bag and hauled em to the car. Then we went back inside and went to sleep…I was like a kid again struggling to fall asleep waiting for the magic of Christmas morning. That magic that as a kid you believe in with every fiber in your body even when it doesn’t make sense but you choose to believe in it anyway?!

Today. Christmas morning. 5:30am, the alarm clock goes off. We roll out of bed, and still in our jammies, we start the car and drive to the closest gas station for 7 donuts and 7 hot chocolates.  My husband and I are giddy…This is going to be a great morning. As we pull up to the other parents house I take it in, where we are, where we have come from to get to this moment. We don’t knock, as per our instructions so we don’t wake the sleeping kids, we walk in with all our Christmas gifts and add them to theirs under their beautiful tree. 


All four parents, sat down and waited for the piter-pater of little feet running down the stairs. It wasn’t awkward as most would think…it was peaceful. 

Back up a few weeks prior, to when I got the text from Her. She had read my previous blog…eeek! I always get so nervous if the other half of this family will like what I have to say. I mean it is only my side and let’s be honest I have a tendency to overshare! So here she was telling me, she had first read my blog, and second she agreed that it’s hard not to be there on Christmas morning when the kids wake up and open gifts. Then she took a big step and leap of faith and invited Brandon and I to share in Christmas morning at their home. I can imagine that this was not an easy thing to do. It’s their time with the kids and although we were not where we are now, we didn’t share Christmas with them last year. I can only imagine the conversation between her (Brandon’s ex) and her husband (my ex) as they prayed and talked about a feeling they had to combine our Christmas Day for the sake of the kids. It is a decision I will forever be grateful for and I know our children will too. 

I hadn’t told anyone about our plans to go to their house and even the kids didn’t know we’d be in their living room waiting this morning. I wanted this decision to be a personal one with no one voicing their opinion and influencing our choices. Brandon and I prayed and knew without a doubt that this is what we need to do for our children and to continue on our coparenting road of success. 

So here we were four parents intertwined through three beautiful children on Christmas morning laughing and talking as not only coparents, but friends. It wasn’t long before we saw lights flick on and the Little’s awoke…this video is a confirmation to our decision.

​​Christmas morning 2016 -click to see

The rest of the morning was magical as the kids opened each gift and were able to give their gifts they bought at the school store to all of their parents in one sitting. No two Christmas’, that only become harder with age. Instead, we shared together the excitement the kids had with each gift. Although we all spent lots of money on the kids, the memory of Christmas 2016 all together is priceless.



As we all shared in this private moment of happiness, I couldn’t help but think of the gift of Christ’s birth. God had a choice to not share his child with us, he had a choice in heaven, and although we often think of Jesus Christ making the ultimate sacrifice for us, I can imagine how our Heavenly Father and Mother felt as they had to share their son with us. 

I know our Children are only lent to us here on earth, that Heavenly Father wants us to take care of them, and teach them until they can return to him again, and today it just became so clear to me. These three kids…they are shared between two homes, and we as divorced parents must make sacrifices for the good of our children and our posterity. They are not just mine and Brandon’s, or just our exes. They are all of ours and ultimately our Heavenly Fathers. Just as Jesus did not belong to Mary. Mind. Blown.

After the festivities of the morning, we had church. We decided during sacrament we would all sit together. I was overwhelmed as we sat and listened to the beautiful music of the choir, my husband on my left, our oldest daughter with her head on my shoulder, Brandon’s ex wife with Coen on her lap, and my ex husband with Jordyn on his lap! I’m sure to the outsider looking in it was crazy,but for me it was probably the best Christmas ever. Especially when my oldest whispered in my ear “I love you mom”. 


So on this very special Christmas, I want to share my testimony that God works in mysterious ways, but His way is always right. I know that this new tradition of Christmas as one Family (yes we fully intend to make this a yearly occurrence), will not only strengthen us as a family for years to come, but will Strengthen our testimonies of families as well. I’m so excited that our kids don’t have to say “this year I spent it at my moms”, or vise versa.

As we left their house this morning the sun was rising, the frost across the ground and in the trees was glistening, and tears filled my eyes. That magic that you hear about, read stories to your kids about, that Christmas magic did happened for me today, and I’m a believer.

Merry Christmas 

Split Home=Split Holidays

It’s the most wonderful time of the year! The holidays are here! It’s time for all those awesome family traditions that we used to cringe at when we were teenagers, but now we can’t wait for our kids to experience. Nothing is more heart warming than gathering around the table at Thanksgiving and looking at our family with a gratitude we often forget about throughtout the year, as we stuff our faces with Turkey and Taters. Then comes Christmas and the sound of little foot steps down the stairs followed by gasps when they see what Santa brought. It is probably one of the best times of the year to be a parent. 

 I’m gonna be real with you today though and tell you, just as probably most divorced parents all over the world will tell you, that the holidays are the toughest part of any divorce. One Year it’s your holiday and the next it’s theirs. It’s a bummer for sure. I remember the first year I didn’t experience Christmas morning with my kids. It was a hurt I can’t explain. My heart ached as I woke up alone. No kids jumping in my bed at 4 in the morning, no little foot steps down the stairs, and no happy gasps. Just quiet. I guess it should have felt like any other day when the kids weren’t with me, but I think we can all agree it’s just different on the holidays. So yes I had a “woe is me” moment.  I mean, you can have the best co-parenting set up in the world (which I feel pretty much sums up my life) yet nothing will change the fact that you personally can’t make memories with your kids on EVERY holiday.

The worst thing though about divorce is that the kids don’t have both parents on those days either. I’m sure psychologists all over can argue that the kid is fine, that there is no real psychological damage to not having BOTH mom and dad during the holidays, but ask kids that come from split homes how holidays were and still are perhaps and you may get a glimpse of that damage. Most will tell you about the nightmare of being forced to eat two Thanksgiving dinners as to not offend someone or spending Christmas Eve at one home and the next morning at the other, then as they get older trying to please both sides and work around siblings, in laws and then their bitterly divorced parents who can’t be in the same room on top of it all! Which brings me to my point…how can we as divorced adults co-parenting make the holidays truly the best time of the year for our kids? 

Let’s be honest it’s gonna take a lot of swallowing your pride, sacrifice, and compromise. I know I’m so annoyingly optimistic that we can all do this! Here’s some tips and tricks I’ve learned though that can help to ease the sting of split holidays.

PLAN AHEAD

I am literally the queen of procrastination. I always wait to the last minute to make plans or follow through with said plans. My husband will tell you, I clean best, ten minutes before anyone comes over! So with the holidays it’s good to have a plan in place either through your divorce decree or a very clear verbal agreement if you’re at that point in your co-parenting journey. 

I hear all the time from those at the beginning stages of divorce…”oh we don’t need all that lawyer stuff cuz we are on good terms” hahahahahaha. That’s cute. Listen at some point even if y’all are best friends, you’re gonna have either a scheduling conflict, or you both will have an important family thing happening on a specific holiday, or the most likely is that one or both parents gets remarried and Holidays become more hectic and crazy with blended families so you both at some point are going to disagree. The best way to handle these situations is to refer to that handy dandy, judge approved, document that clearly states who’s Holiday is who’s. Which brings me to my next suggestion…

BE FLEXIBLE 

Let me tell you how my holidays are going this year..It is technically, by court order, Brandon and I’s year for Thanksgiving and the other parents year for Christmas. However, we were kindly and many months in advance asked if we would allow the kids to go out of state on Thanksgiving to visit family that the kids haven’t had a chance to meet. The kicker was, they still wanted Christmas because other family had already made plans to fly to Jersey. So you’re probably thinking, well that’s not fair. Stay with me…In exchange we would get Halloween and Easter (not our court appointed Holidays) so that my family could fly in then. 

We live clear across the country from our families, both sets of parents. So since Brandon and I did not have any family coming or big plans, it was a no brainer. Of course the kids could spend both Holidays with them, and with extended family. Family is the MOST important thing in our kids lives, even if it’s family that isn’t Brandon and I’s. Grandparents, cousins, brothers, sisters, who don’t get to see our kids will always take priority. Now I’m not telling you this for an “atta girl”. I’m telling you this to show you that is how adults co-parent successfully. Kids first. 

Don’t confine yourself to celebrating Holidays on the actual day. Kids will never care if your Thanksgiving happens the Saturday after or if Christmas morning is Dec 20th. They just want to feel loved and know that everyone is happy. Besides these kids are getting two Thanksgiving dinners and two Christmas mornings! LUCKY! 

DON’T TRY TO ONE UP

The hardest thing during the Holidays, no matter how good or bad your relationship with the other parent is, is hearing about all the things they did and stuff they got at the “other house”. 

I think it’s just a natural reaction to feel envious of something the other parents did or bought that seems so much better than what you did and try to “one up” them. At least I hope it is…oh gosh maybe I’m sharing too much!  Here’s the thing, the kids don’t see it like that and won’t UNLESS you make a big deal of it! If you make comments like “of course your dad got you something I can’t afford.” , or the one I hear the most from people is “Disneyland parents”, then they may look at it as a negative gift that is hurting their parents feelings, or in the future use it against you as well to make you feel bad or try to get bigger, better gifts because that’s what you’ve shown is important through your words. 

I literally have to look in the mirror when I say this, but it doesn’t matter who gets what for the kids as long as they are loved and happy! Toys eventually get thrown out or forgotten, but memories don’t. The kids won’t look back and say “oh Remember that Christmas, Dad/Mom got me ‘insert spectacular gift’ and you only got me ‘insert less spectacular gift’.” No! Kids will remember how you made them feel, the activities you did, the vacations and time together. And hey, if the other parent can get something the kid wants and you may not be able to afford it, then why is that a bad thing…it’s a win-win really! 

IT’S OK TO ENJOY YOURSELF 

The first Holiday away from the kids I sulked around. I didn’t want to go or do anything because I didn’t have my kids so surely I couldn’t enjoy whatever it was I would do. I mean like I said earlier I had a woe is me moment! 

Over the past few years and especially since being with Brandon, I’ve learned it is OK to enjoy yourself without the kids! If you’re struggling with how to do this, just take baby steps…wether it’s pajamas and Netflix while eating all the junk food you can buy, or Black Friday shopping (cuz that doesn’t happen every other year since the divorce), but do something you wouldn’t get to do with the kids! This year I slept in, took my sweet time getting ready, and scrolled on social media uninterrupted for a solid hour…it was truly magical.

This year Brandon and I are also trying to accentuate the positive of being without our amazing Little’s by being around the truly great people we’ve come to know and befriend in Jersey. Our church families were so great about making sure we were taken care of this year. I can not thank everyone enough for all the invites to Thanksgiving dinner! However, we decided this year to have dinner at our home, and we invited four hungry young LDS missionaries to join us! 


We had so much fun, and we are just beyond grateful they agreed to let me cook our first ever Turkey for them! Ok I didn’t cook of course, but Brandon did and it was AMAZE BALLS! Sure glad he knows our designated “roles” in the home (the dishes are calling my name). 

So yes the Holidays without the kids can be hard, but they are only as terrible as you decide to make em! I have way too much to be grateful for this year than to end the year sad about the kids not spending the Holidays at our house. I know they are having so much fun where they are, that they are being loved unconditionally, and they are making memories that will last forever, so who am I too make that a bad thing?!

I hope that divored families all over the world this season can remember what and who is truly important. I know I have…and they call me mom. 

We are never ever, ever, getting back together…

Listen Taylor Swift never say never little lady. If you’re thinking I’m talking about getting back together with my ex, I will laugh you back to the crazy house you came from! This post in no way is referring to a relationship with my ex husband but everything to do with my relationship to God. 

When I got divorced three years ago, I was an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints or as some call us “Mormons”. My ex and I were married in the Logan Utah temple and everything. That’s right, for those of you who met me post divorce you may not know all that. However for those of you (probably most) who knew me pre divorce, you know that I fell hard about the same time my marriage did. 

I remember the day it all happened, the day I walked away. I had found out my husband didn’t want to be married to me so I went to one of my best friends house to get a blessing of comfort from her husband.  It was a sad and yet great day when I look back on it. I only remember one thing that was said in the blessing…”it’s going to get worse, before it gets better.” I didn’t think much of it because honestly how could it get worse?! My 9 year marriage was ending, it was pretty bad. I left my friends house not knowing what the next morning would bring however.

The phone call that changed my life went something like this…

Me- “hello”

Friends neighbor, and former Bishopric member (FN)- “Jessie, I’m calling because I didn’t know if anyone contacted you yet.”

Me- totally thinking he had heard about my divorce “uh nope no ones called me”

FN- “it’s my next door neighbor, she died last night”

Me- thinking he’s referring to her daughter since she had a type 1 diabetes “Syd? What?”

FN- “no…Shamae.”

Me- “wait…No no I was just with her last night. What? What? What?” 

He went on to explain that she had passed away in her sleep and then her husband and sister called to confirm what I couldn’t believe. 

I had met Shamae when I got called at age 23 to be a Young Women President in my ward. I was terrified, but Shamae would serve with me and not only be an amazing help, but she bacame one of my best friends. We had the best memories serving the youth together and all the crazy shinanigans we got into outside of YW. 

It was at that moment though when I lost her too that I lost myself. Although I didn’t realize it then, looking back I know deep down it was in fact that moment that I went from sad…to angry. How could God be so cruel? My husband leaves, my best friend dies all in a week of each other? I felt abandoned. I felt like He didn’t really care. It was that mind set, and the terribly tough weeks that followed that changed me. I hid it for awhile, but slowly my negativity showed as I stopped going to church, stopped wearing my garments, and stopped being an active member of the church. It was then that I broke up with God.

I went on with my life and lived happy. I married Brandon and we lived happily without any church. However what we did not do well was let go of our anger. Our anger towards our exes, and our anger to God. We didn’t openly talk to others except close friends about this. To each other though…we of course had so much negativity and hate in our hearts. 

Fast forward two years…

We all make a decision to move our family from North Dakota to New Jersey. Our exes, and Brandon and I (and 3 little people). Looking back, a year ago, that was the first little tender mercy God did to start us on our path back to the Gospel. 

The first few months in Jersey were lonely to be quite honest. There is so much to do, and I love hanging out with my husband but I missed my social group of friends. I’ve always been that girl that needs her girlfriends. Especially after losing Shamae and my divorce I leaned on my girl tribe so much that they became the sisters I never had. When Brandon and I got married I told him I was a package deal, not just two kids, but some crazy women too! 


So here I was clear across the country from everything and everyone I knew…then my kids got a letter in the mail from the primary president. They were so excited to get mail and an invitation to come to church. The girls had known what church was because we were very active pre divorce. They begged to go and I figured I had nothing to lose. I don’t know why I agreed but I think the loneliness I was feeling prompted me to pull the trigger. It was that first Sunday in the Freehold NJ ward that I first felt a shift with in me spiritually. Everyone was so nice and welcoming and…familiar. 

Over the next few months I would go on the weekends I had the kids. Brandon wasn’t quite ready to attend with us, but it’s okay because we’d go to church and he’d cook lunch and have it waiting for us when we got home! It was a pretty great deal really. I started to get more and more comfortable going and started changing my attitude towards God. It’s like we had been fighting and I just wasn’t ready to admit I was wrong and say sorry. 

Then one day, my incredible husband got up and put the only suit, white shirt, and tie he owned at the time on and told me he was going with us. I tried to do my best to not make a big deal about it, but you guys…it was a HUGE deal. This man, (who lets be clear id love anyway) pretty sure on more than one occasion said “I will never be a Mormon”. So we went to church like no big deal. 

It was at about this time, the other parents also decided to start attending the same church. I mean after all my ex was an active member once too. So we all lived in the same ward boundaries, but the idea of attending church together was tough for me! Remember, I still had this hidden anger and I hadn’t quite handed it over to the Lord just yet. I am going to be real with you…I was not nice about it. I told them I didn’t want them going to the same ward and was kind of territorial. 

Then something happened to me when the other mom, who is not Mormon said something so hard to hear…”Twice I have been interested in the church and twice now you have made me not want to be a member by your example.” Insert knife in heart and turn please. 

For those thinking…how dare she say that. Well, Why can’t she say that?! I knowingly was raised in a church that preaches love our neighbors and forgive our enemies. Yet here I am 2 years later holding on to this anger, for what? Because I can? Because it’s my right? No. Because I am selfish. I found something I love and want to keep it to myself. That is the exact opposite of what the Mormon church encourages. 

I did my best to apologize for my behavior and it was and continues to be an apology I can only prove through actions. I never want to be the reason someone doesn’t want to go to church. I left for my own personal anger with God, but just as time has healed my relationship with our exes, it healed my broken heart with God. 

The next few months were a whirlwind as my husband decided to meet with the missionaries and eventually be baptized. The other parents attended and I think that truly shows how far we’ve all come. 

It’s been a life changing experience for me, for Brandon of course, but for our kids especially. Although we were of course happily married before, Brandon and I have been able to let go of the hurt that was buried inside us and give it up to the Lord. I look at my husband differently, not necessarily better, because he was always an amazing husband and father, but now I look at him and see my Heavenly Father’s love for me in his eyes, and I’m home.

Fast forward to today a year to the month that we moved here…

Today my path in the church got more interesting as I was called to be Young Woman President. I know, what are they thinking right?!?! The very calling where I met Shamae though! I feel like She was up there plotting with God and this was her way of saying…see Jess, it’s all been a crazy plan to get you to this moment. It’s funny because when she passed, her mom found a card she had been writing to me and hadn’t quite finished on her dresser this is what it said…


All is definitely not forgotten. He will never forget us. He did not forget about me. He didn’t cause heartache in my life, he started me on a path of self discovery and was strengthening me for what was to come. To be able to share these life experiences with others, with These beautiful young girls in my church and to hopefully prepare them for the trials that will come. I am so grateful we came to New Jersey. Did it get worse before it got better? Yes, but remember, “good timber does not grow with ease, the stronger the wind, the stronger the trees”-President Thomas S. Monson

So, If I’ve learned one thing (don’t worry I’ve learned lots more), it’s never say never. 

Joint Custody does not a part time parent make.

Today My husband and I got up and got ourselves ready for church. There was no waking up the kids, fighting with them about what to wear (even though we picked it all out the night before) or where their dang socks were. We didn’t have to pour cereal or do 3 little heads of hair. In fact I laid in bed as long as I could just staring at my husband who got up earlier than me to iron his suit. The sun was shining in our bedroom and it hit him in such a way that I just didn’t want to take my eyes off him. The warmth of the moment was so peaceful and fitting on this Sabbath day. I was excited for this weeks Sacrament Sunday because it was what we Mormons call, the best Sunday of the year, the Primary Program.

I’m sure most of the mom’s were making sure their kids had their best dresses and suits on, that their hair was perfectly curled or combed, parts memorized and that they got it all done in time as to not arrive late (Mormon standard time is the norm with kids). Then when they arrived they can sit and watch their kids with a sense of relief and pride! 

Not all of that happened for me today though. I’m divorced and so It wasn’t my week. I didn’t need to worry or be sad about it though. I knew the kids would look amazing, that they’d be on time and fed, teeth brushed, and that they be ready for their parts in the primary program of the ward we attend with the other set of parents. That’s right we all attend the same church every Sunday. 

Honestly on days like today, especially, I am grateful they are at their other home. Not because I get to sleep in (of course that’s totally amazing, I’m not ashamed to say it!) or because I don’t feel rushed, but because the other mom in this team is so great at that kind of stuff! She always has them so well dressed and hair so adorable and they don’t seem frazzled like they would with me if I was attempting to get three children ready for a big event. I’m not sure how she does it because on top of it all she’s always so put together too. I guess we all have our superhero skills as mommas! The best thing for us or me at least (since I am just speaking for myself, she may think I’m a crazy mess of a mom! Haha!), is that I get to have my own specific set of skills and powers yet still utilize hers! I feel like together we make a mom team that is unbeatable. 

It’s not been an easy road to get here. For those of you out there struggling with the fact that you “share” your child with other parents, ones you didn’t chose but your ex did I know how you feel! I think the scariest two words you can say to a parent going through divorce is JOINT CUSTODY. It’s one thing to get divorced and split assets, but your baby cubs?! Mamma bear (or daddy bear) totally comes out and you start acting all crazy and snarling teeth at anyone else who dare attempt to raise your kids. Why do we immediately think the worst?!

For me, it was different, I knew the other mom before. I saw her raising a child.my kids knew her and loved her, and I knew her and respected her parenting style. We probably wouldn’t have been friends from the beginning if I didn’t. My story will never be your story and I respect that and understand. However, there are things you can learn from my life and hopefully apply them to yours. Listen, it wasn’t like my ex husband remarried and I was super nice and welcoming to the idea of co-parenting. The other mom will tell you I was definitely crazy and probably still am a little. It’s in our nature! The nice thing in my situation is we both share each others kids so we get it! 

Over time we have come to realize that fighting each other is a lot harder than working together. We have established a line of communication that makes it easy to coordinate schedules and if there is something that one can attend but the other can’t no matter who’s week it is, we make sure someone is there. Or for really improtantant things we are both there. Our husbands are hard workers and so most of the time the kids activities are up to us. I’m pretty sure the girls gymnastics and for a while the school thought we were a lesbian couple. We of course played along. The point is, if we couldn’t communicate well, then these activities would be difficult not only for us as parents but for the kids to fully enjoy themselves. 

After all, Joint Custody doesn’t mean each house shuts off their phones for the week and the other parents are on their own. When the kids are sick or hurt or need anything we send a text or call to let the other parents know. And offer assistance to each other as needed. Divorced Parents shouldn’t look at their time with the kids as only THEIRS and I think that mindset gets a lot of people in that bitter power struggle between homes. I call that mindset Selfish parenting. Open Communication does not mean you’re weak. Open communication allows us to find those strengths in the other parents and combine yours with theirs. To build a home together! 

So many people refer to divorce with kids as a “broken home”. I look at my kids life and see nothing broken about it. They get equal time with parents who love them dearly. Those weeks without them are hard, but they allow my husband and I to reset if you will. To have mornings like today where I know all will be well and taken care of and I in a rare mom moment can take care of myself.

I’ve of course had to soften my heart over the years and in so doing I have seen a future that is full of soccer games where we can all sit together and cheer them on, together. Where after the game our kid doesn’t have to pick what parent he runs to first because we are all there together on the sidelines. Ive seen parent teacher conferences where four parents sit around a table with each teacher discussing our kids future. I’ve seen a future where I’m stading next to our girls getting them ready for their weddings but I’m not alone, the girls have two mothers helping fix the dress and veil and one of us (cough cough not me-she knows it’s her) bawling uncontrollably on those days! I see two fathers teaming up on any potential suitors. Two fathers doing camping trips, scouts, blessing, and instilling values in a boy who loves them both and heeds their advice. I see a future where when older, our Children recognize what we did for them and thank us by showing the same love for their children. I see an eternity full of a happy and blessed posterity.

So no, Today I didn’t get my kids ready for their primary program, but I was able to watch them sing their songs, speak their parts, look amazing, and feel that relief and pride that all the other mothers who did get them ready, felt. 

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