My Mothers Daughter

2 weeks ago I sat in the waiting room along with 20 others and with my feverish, snot nose, ear aching, coughing, and congested little Diva while I played with her hair as she stared up at me asking me 10 thousand questions I caught myself... 

I can remember laying with my head in the lap of my own mother on numerous occasions while she played with my hair as we waited to see the doctor. 

Looking back I remember saying as a teen, "I never want to be like my mother." and fast forwarding to yesterday, I realized...

I've turned into my mother. 

That revelation was a very weird, yet, one very accomplishing feeling that I don't think I've ever had before. Now, sounding like her.. Sometimes it amazes me how she somehow just manifested herself through me and is speaking... 

The thought makes me cringe every time.

My Diva had a million and one questions to ask me. Her inquisitions are so random at times, unicorns, babies, and other various subjects that have left me blinking in amazement at her a few go-rounds. 

I think frustration and amazement come wrapped in bows with pretty little markings. 

Children have the tenacity to drive you crazy and have you smiling all in one token. Over the last few days.. This has been the case. 

Being a mother is exhausting. It's also the best job in the world. 

Over the years, I'm sure my mom felt this way about my 6yr old Diva/ADHD self at one point too. 

On numerous occasions telling me, "You make me wanna pull my damn hair out, Chrystal Louise!!!". 

Believe me, I'm sure I did just that.  I can't deny the fact that I was a horrible/hyperactive/doing cartwheels in the lobby as we waited, brat of a child. 

Then I realized how precious these moments are. That I wouldn't trade a thousand moons or stars for that matter. There is no better place in this world I would rather be than in these waiting rooms with these children. 

Fast forward to last Wednesday and yesterday, there I was sitting in the same waiting room with another little precious "daughter" of mine, I caught myself nurturing them the same as if they were my own child. 

Again, my mother came to mind...

Regardless if I birthed them my own or not, I love these children as much as my own. And it pangs me to know they are unwell. 

Not in a million years did I ever imagine I would have any more love to give to any other children but my own, but as night is to day, and as natural as breathing the air into my lungs, I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Also, I am in no way, shape, or form trying to be their mother. They have a wonderful mother. I am however going to try my best to be a motherly figure and friend to them. 

Which brings me to my case in point: 

People always asked me what it was like growing up being raised by a Woman who wasn't my birth mother and how that affected me? 

There was never any difference. So, I guess the only effect it had on my life is that I see now how easy it was for her to love a child that wasn't her own. 

What I've realized in the last few days is that not only am I so lucky to have had the privilege of having two amazing mothers, I am privileged to have become a mother myself, not only to my 2, but to be a friend, to love, and to help care for 3 other beautiful little souls as well. 

I am blessed beyond belief.

And so, while I thought the only love I could give would be to my own children, I find myself today, more than any other, understanding what the meaning of unconditional love truly is. 

Thank you, Mom. For loving me, treating me as your own, and showing me the beauty of what unconditional love is.  I owe the mother I have become today to you. 

-Chrystal Louise

Let it go, seriously.

Hi friends. My two week hiatus has been accounted for and I'm sure that you all have missed my reoccurring appearance and have been sitting on the edge of your seats just waiting for more banter to come along, I know, I know. I am back. Post-op and Cancer free!!!! 

Also, I moved out of my apartment.... Which brings us to the subject of this entire post. 

Letting it go. 

Now, I don't know about you.. But, I've always had a little trouble letting shit go. Clothes, MY shoes, people I care for who ultimately do not deserve a place in my life.. The list could go on. 

Truth is, I moved out of my apartment this past Tuesday. I sold my furniture, I gave all my old pretties to goodwill and I looked at my empty little apartment and closed the door. 

This was a huge step for me. Everything I worked so hard for, for almost 2 years to have for me and mine, and there I was standing in the leasing office turning in my keys yesterday afternoon. 

I didn't question it. It felt good, almost reassuring that I knew this decision was a smart one. One I am proud of. I've never questioned it since the day I made it. But I did question why I wasn't questioning it. And that was as weird a feeling as that statement sounds. 

And like a small little poof, I had an epiphany. My life is exactly where it needs to be heading, I am happy where I am and with who I am. I am exactly where I need and want to be.

Somehow in a little less than a year, I grew up. I learned that life is so unpredictable and it's usually just best not to fight it. Weird how drastically your mentality can change after a year of eating Ramen and Chef Boy r'de can lead you. 

While I unpacked the boxes and went through the clothes and personables that I had brought with me into our new life, I found myself questioning why I had held on to those things.

And suddenly I realized that a year ago, I felt I had already lost grip on everything I knew that had been real for over a decade of my life. That shirt with 10,000 holes in it was getting packed and coming with me. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I wasn't letting it go. No one was taking any more of me unless I allowed it.

This time that wasn't the case. I got rid of the 10,000 hole t-shirt, along with 10+ bags of clothes... And let's not even mention almost 8 or more boxes of various things I didn't need. 

It was liberating. I felt almost as if I was freeing myself of the past. I then understood the girl who had came into single momhood was not the girl throwing all these things out. 

I am a different person today then the person I was when I packed those boxes up. A girl who once fought to keep it all, was suddenly giving it all up. I didn't want it. I didn't necessarily need it, even a year ago I didn't need it. 

But I did it. I let go. 

I don't know what kept me from the "letting go". Was it the broken marriage? The thoughts of being alone? My sister and Mike have decided "I was a borderline Hoarder". I beg to differ. As I think about it even more in this moment, were those things in my mind my security blanket for this new life? Who knows. 

And officially as of yesterday at 4:12pm we started a brand new adventure, this time we've added a few persons to the mix. I have nothing to let go of and everything I could possibly want and need right infront of my eyes, who hold such a very deep place in my heart that they are worth holding onto, forever. 

If I had never learned to let go, where would I still be today? Drowning in clothes and non-valuables? Signing up to be on the next episode of hoarders? Probably. 

I know a lot of you are just like me. Not willing to give in or let go. Whether it be clothes or a feud with someone...

Imagine if you were to rid yourself of the things in your life you don't necessarily need or want anymore, think about the wide open spaces you would create in your heart, mind, and even in my case, closets. 

Everyone just needs to take a note from my girl Elsa... And let that shit go. Life is too short to be stuck.

 Let it gooooo... Let it gooooo...

Now that song is repeating itself in your brain like it has the throughout me writing this entire post... I will leave you to it. 

For me, I'm gonna weather the cold and enjoy this date night with my Michael Shane. 

But seriously, the cold is bothering me. 

For the love of God, please warm up soon Mobile. 

Dreaming of bikinis, the beach, and a pretty little tan, 

Chrystal Louise