“‘I told him to stop! He pushed him again. So I punched him, hard.’ It is my job as his parent not to stomp out his fire, but to teach him to use it for good.”
- Love What Matters
- Family
“‘I told him to stop! He pushed him again. So I punched him, hard.’ It is my job as his parent not to stomp out his fire, but to teach him to use it for good.”
“I wanted to be mad at my husband and stay mad. I made sure he knew it. I ignored apologies, rolled my eyes as dramatic as possible, and threw some of my best hateful looks. When he outstretched his open hand on the table, our eyes met. We instantly turned into middle school girls who couldn’t contain our giggles. I tried to hold my poker face, but it was no match for the man across from me. He knows me all too well.”
“I watched her breathe so slowly. ‘It’s okay to go now. You won’t be in pain anymore.’ At 9:14 p.m. she took her last breath. Her brothers cuddled her one last time and said their final goodbyes. There’s something about seeing your 5-year-old carrying a tiny little casket that will break your heart and make you so proud all at the same time. He was always holding his little sister, even in death.”
“I just freaking love you. Honestly, I didn’t really ‘get it’ until my 30’s; until the dramas of life started to be really critical. Lifetime level heartbreaks, pregnancies, cancers, divorces, careers, health, death. The real stuff. The real real.”
“The doctor actually laughed and told me I was ‘just dehydrated.’ One asked, ‘Have you been sexually abused?’ He thought the pain was in my head. I decided it was time to walk away from my dream of being a mother. ‘It’s okay to put yourself and your health first. It’s okay to stop.’ She lovingly placed her hands on my shoulders, looked directly into my eyes and said, ‘You’re going to be okay.'”
“Any passion for this work I once had has been wrung completely out of me. This is all I hear from other teachers as well, and they are leaving the profession in droves.”
“I eagerly dialed the number. ‘My son lost both of his parents when he was 2. He’s grieving. I need guidance, and would appreciate an evaluation.’ I want to start helping him NOW instead of LATER. ‘Okay ma’am, our waitlist is over a year out.’ I was incredibly defeated. I had no idea this would be so hard to find help for my child. No clue at all. I have this inner voice that won’t quiet down. ‘Get help, Molly!’”
“I wasn’t scared to tell friends, family, or the internet. Only you. I still remember sitting on my bed with mom. You walked in on me crying. I could barely get out the words before you hung your head in disappointment and stormed off. Six months later, you took me to every doctors appointment. Six years later, you, papa, are my daughter’s world.”
“That hole I lived with for so long has been filled with and recovery, and no one can take that away from me.”
“Last week, I posted a set of family photos on social media. In one, my 5-year-old is kissing me lovingly. A distant relative replied, ‘He’s too old for this!!!’ I could feel my blood boiling.”