This is the side of motherhood that doesn’t get talked about a lot.
The times where it’s 2am and there’s been an accident. Instead of getting mad at your child who’s already upset, you choose to do the harder thing.
You strip the bed, get it cleaned up, and then take every clean blanket to the living room.
They’re still crying. It’s disappointing and when you’re almost three, you have big emotions. A single accident feels world shattering, but it’s not.
It’s the decision to sleep in another bed or, in our case, make a huge, blanket sleep space in the middle of the floor. You tell them it’s much more fun to have a sleepover in the living room anyways.
Then, you calm them and help get them back to sleep.
No. It’s not the night you wanted. I mean, who wants to sleep on the floor? But just because it was a physically messy accident, doesn’t mean it needs to be emotionally messy too.
Parenting is hard. Parenting with lack of sleep is even harder.
These nights are not in the greatest hits moments. Yet, something tells me these un-talked about nights have lasting effects.
Okay everyone, I originally had another meal planned for today, but knew this one had to go out first. You’re going to want to make this as soon as possible.
This casserole is easy to throw together and tastes GREAT! Mila ate a whole bowl full.
Here’s all you need:
4 cups of shredded chicken (any cooked chicken will do, I used rotisserie chicken)
2 cans of Cream of Chicken soup
Salt and Pepper
Garlic and Onion Powder
Butter
2 cups milk
1 can Grand Biscuits
4 cups of frozen veggies (I used carrots, green beans, corn, and peas)
Cheese (optional)
First, preheat your oven to 375 degrees.
While oven is preheating, take large skillet and put it on medium heat. Melt 2 tablespoons butter and add frozen veggies to cook for 10-15 minutes. Then, place biscuits on a baking sheet.
When oven is preheated, Place the biscuits pan in the oven to prebake them for 8 minutes. They’ll finish baking when you put the whole casserole in. When they’re done, take out of the oven, but don’t shut the oven off.
Add the chicken, milk, cream of chicken soup, and spices to the frozen veggies. Stir for 5 minutes, until it’s bubbly hot.
After it’s mixed and heated, pour into a 9×13 dish. Then take the prebaked biscuits and put them on top of the mixture, baked side down and raw side up.
Before placing into the oven, melt 2 tablespoons of butter, mix in garlic powder, and pour over the biscuits. This will make your biscuits tastes extra delicious. At this point, I also sprinkled cheese over top of them too.
Then, bake for 12 minutes or until the biscuits are golden brown.
This meal is mouthwatering.
It feels great to find some meals that aren’t Mexican that Mila loves. This tastes like home and makes me feel all warm inside. I’m glad it made her happy too!
I’ll make sure to share the other recipe next week. Spoiler alert, it’s Mexican inspired, but just as yummy.
If you make this recipe, let me know what you think!
I’m not the ‘new year, new me,’ type of girl, but I’ve been aching for a change.
My hair has been the same since Mila was born. Then, in the time between her and Jensen, I didn’t do much to myself. Grief is hard on a person and with Jensen went a big part of my fun and spontaneity.
It happens. That was the worst time of my life.
Something has been calling out to me the last few weeks, this was it. So, what better time is there to reinvest in yourself than the present?
The glasses are fake, well blue light ones. I’m digging them, but my hair. Oh. My. Goodness. I’m completely obsessed with it.
I used to have crazy highlights and stay up with the latest trends. Now, I feel like I got a little of myself back. I think Jensen would be happy with it too. Even if Mila didn’t look at my for the first twenty minutes.
A night at the salon, (thanks Tina!) made me feel brighter and gave me the change I’ve been needing.
If you’ve been following my blog for a while and can remember clear back to the summer of 2019, my house had a… spooky occurrences.
Yes, the blessing helped tremendously for a while. The unexplainable things in my house calmed down, but I still have to burn sage weekly. If I don’t, the house starts to feel strange again.
I know not everyone’s a believer, it’s just terrifying when it happens to you.
So, I won’t get into any of the recent happenings, but this week, Mila said something that stopped me in my tracks. Instantly, I called my mom (yep, still that person), and asked if I was hearing Mila correctly.
Turns out… I was.
I don’t know who Jo-Jo is and never want to either. Anyone that lives in the basement is NOT a friend of mine.
After I stopped recording this, Mila informed me that Jo-Jo is a baby, plays with her, and goes with her places. She also danced with him and she gives him bottles. It’s quite creepy. I don’t know a Jo-Jo, but I definitely need to research more.
Let’s just say, I’ll be sage-ing my house everyday for a long time.
In a perfect, social media world, beautiful dinners are made every night and the house is always clean.
As much as I’d love for all of that to magically happen, I live in reality. Some nights the floors go unswept and quick meals look like this.
Guess what… I’m still a good mom and had a happy kid. We even snacked on carrots after too.
Whatever you need to do to get through the day, night, or minute, do it. Sometimes that means pizza bagels for dinner and not doing the dishes after.
You’re still a good mom if you don’t make Pinterest worthy meals every night or have a perfectly cleaned house. In your kids eyes, you’re always the best.
Earlier this week, I talked about how I failed to even remember 2020’s word of the year. I also didn’t keep up with something that was important to me.
I’m sure you’ve seen it on some type of social media, but it’s a gratitude jar. Every day or week, you write down something that made you feel grateful. Last year, I tried to do every day and I succeed until March.
This year, I’m challenging myself to one every week. Plus, Mila is going to be accountable to tell me what made her smile this week.
I want Mila to know she’s important and that she has a big space in our home. Even though she told me chocolate milk was the best part of last week… which is also funny if you read yesterday’s post.
Anyways, every Sunday, Mila and I are going to have a little chat about our week. Whatever we’re thankful for, I’ll write it down. Then, I’ll keep it locked up tight in our jar.
By the end of the year, there will be 52 or more pieces of gratitude on paper.
Hopefully, this will make the both of us smile. If 2021 is relatable to 2020, we’ll need the moments of gratitude next New Year’s Eve.
Have you thought about ways to document this next year? I’m also keeping a journal too.
It’s 2021 and toddlers are still weird as ever; especially mine
Sometimes I’m shocked by her new phrases and what she comes up with. Her latest proclamation has me constantly giggling though.
If you didn’t know, Mila is still nursing. She’s not ready to stop and I’m just following her lead. Now that she can talk and understand what I’m asking her, she’s let me know more about her experience with ‘boobie.’
Curious to why she likes it and still wants to nurse, I asked her a specific question. What does it taste like?
Without any thought, she told me it tastes like chocolate milk. But, she likes boobie milk better.
Since chocolate milk is her go to drink, I guess I’ll take her comment as a compliment. At least I somewhat understand why there isn’t an end to nursing in sight.
Kids say the darndest things, right? Or maybe my toddler is just super weird.
The first recipe of the new year was a crowd favorite for my family. Mila even stole bites from my plate!
It’s a tasty, low prep meal that will become one of your family’s favorites.
Here’s the ingredients:
Rotisserie chicken
2 large zucchinis
1 can of cream of chicken soup
1 box of chicken stuffing mix
1/2 cup of butter
1/2 cup of sour cream
Cheese
First, preheat your oven to 350 degrees and grease a basking dish.
While it’s preheating, melt the butter and then, in a bowl, mix it with the chicken stuffing mix. I added a little more butter to this, but do what you think works best. Set aside half of this combination for the topping.
Then, pull and shred your rotisserie chicken. Make sure to get out all of the bones. You could also use chicken breast or thighs too.
Next, dice your zucchini in bite sized pieces.
After everything is cut, combine the chicken, zucchini, cream of chicken soup, and sour cream to one of the stuffing halves.
Mix it up and then spread this to your baking dish. Add the other half of the stuffing mixture and cheese on top.
Put it in the oven, uncovered, and bake for 40 minutes or until it’s warm through and the top is golden brown.
One of the best part of this recipe, besides it being easy and tasty, is Mila was able to easily help me make it! Cooking with her most nights creates memories I know I’ll never forget.
I love finding meals she enjoys making and eating to keep her interested in cooking.
If you try today’s recipe, let me know what you think in the comments!
I wanted to post this yesterday, but, like this story, my Christmas was filled with Mila. This was my final story for my creative writing class this year. I’m proud of it and I wanted to share it with all of you.
I hope all of you had a very, merry Christmas. Enjoy.
My eyes blink open and everything seems so bright. The morning air feels chilly as I search for her in bed.
I realize she’s not here. Being alone can be so scary.
In the mornings, I typically love to cuddle up beside her. She is my safe place. Anytime I’m cold, she warms me up. When afraid, she shows me there’s nothing to fear. The mornings she’s not here, I try to tell myself she hasn’t gone too far.
The longer I wait in her big bed, the more I worry she’s forgotten about me. I let out a little whimper, then I call her name wondering if she’ll hear me.
“Mama?”
I hear the sweetest voice coming from the bedroom. Her footsteps start silently and get louder the closer she gets. All morning I’ve been up preparing for this moment.
It’s still snowing outside, as it has all night. My coffee has long been cold, but the hot chocolate on the stove is at the perfect temperature. There are only crumbs on the Santa plate and the milks all gone in the reindeer cup. All her presents are wrapped in shiny, red paper with big bows on top. The fairy lights around the living room and the Christmas tree are shining bright.
There will never be a perfect moment, but this is as close as it’ll get.
She’s running through the doorway at this point and there’s only one thing I can say.
“Merry Christmas!”
I can’t believe my eyes. Santa came and left presents at my house, just for me. The cookies Mama and I made are all gone and it looks like he loved the milk we left him too.
Mama is smiling at me as she holds her arms open for a hug. This is the safety I was looking for this morning. I look up at her and smile. She looks beautiful with the lights twinkling in her eyes. I tell her Merry Christmas back. I’m still in shock. Santa brought presents and I can’t wait to rip this paper off of them. Mama and I are going to play all day.
When she puts me down, she pours us hot chocolate and I guess I should take a drink first. It tastes extra chocolatey with peppermint! Maybe Santa left some for us.
“Santa brought me presents and hot chocolate!”
The only thing I can do is smile at her. Her innocence and awe of everything in the world has impacted me more than she could ever imagine. She sees the magic around us and I wouldn’t want it differently.
I wonder if she notices the dark circles under my eyes or that my hair hasn’t been brushed. Wrapping presents all night while trying to be quiet was no easy task.
She asks if she can open them up and I nod at her.
With every quick rip of the wrapping paper, she smiles even bigger. The presents she wanted and circled in the Amazon toy book are now in her hands. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile bigger.
I pull out my phone to capture this moment.
“Say cheese!”
Mama pulls out her phone again. I don’t know why she’s been on it so much lately. We have plenty to do here, but I say cheese as loud as I can. Can’t she understand that Santa has brought me these presents.
I go back to unwrapping. In the background, I hear her tell me if a present is from her or someone else I know. Between each gift, I look want to figure out how I can get them out, but Mama just tells me to give them to her.
We’re back to being a team.
She gets the first present open and it’s something I’ve never seen before. There’s still presents under the tree, but when Mama explains what this thing does, I want to play with it.
I run to get my snow coat, pants, and shoes. Mama gets my gloves and hat. She puts them all on me and I run out the back door.
The cold air stops me in my tracks. No wonder why I was so cold this morning.
There’s more snow than there was yesterday and it keeps falling. Where is my mama? She will love all this snow.
“Come on, Mama!”
This surprise gift caught her off guard. It’s one I don’t think she’s even ever seen one before. Her face when she saw it out was priceless.
She hurried outside and I have to get warm quick.
I’m moving more slowly than normal; the tiredness form the night is wearing me down. She’s yelling for me as I slip some boots on and wrap my big, winter coat around me. I rush out the door as she’s saying my name more.
It’s so bright out. The fresh snow is crisp under each step. There’s beauty all around me, but I can only look at her.
I lay her gift down and almost naturally she jumped on top of it. The rope feels rough in my hands, but I hold on tight. Its blades cut through the snow and her laugh somehow fills our whole backyard.
Who knew an old school sled could bring a toddler so much fun?
Time went by so fast. All I could hear was her yelling to go faster. I went as fast as I could for as long as I could. When I looked back, her cheeks were red and I knew it was time to go in.
“Let’s go get warmed up.”
My cheeks hurt from smiling and maybe cause it’s cold outside.
Mama scoops me up from my new toy, a sled. Instantly I’m warm again. We go into home and I remember something important.
I try to squirm out of my mama’s arms, but she’s holding me tight. Somehow, I kick enough for her to let me down. She’s saying something to me, but I don’t listen. This is way more important and my mama needs it right now.
Santa didn’t forget about me this morning, but I didn’t see him bring anything for her. She needs to know she’s been a good girl too.
In my room, under the rainbow Christmas tree, I uncover a pretty box. Then I run out to her.
“Mama! Mama!”
She’s so impatient. As soon as I get her in the house, she has to run off. Now she’s running back in here. There’s something in her hands.
Quickly, she pulls my hand to the couch and as I sit, she puts a box in my hands.
There’s a tag addressed to me in her writing. The present is wrapped with a lot of tape. She looks so proud of her little surprise to me.
I don’t even need to open it. Whatever is inside will be my favorite gift of all time.
This Christmas morning has been full of perfect moments. The dark circles under my eyes feel like they have vanished and the cold has left both of our bodies. I never want to forget this.
She is my safe place and always makes me feel warm. Anytime I’m afraid of what’s going to come next, she helps me realize there’s nothing to fear. She’ll never know how thankful I am for her.
I open the present from her and without even seeing it, I wrap my arms around her and she squeezes back.
Why does it seem like every time I come to write here it feels like forever since the last time that I have? Maybe because it has been.
In the last few weeks, I’ve turned a whole year older, started back college classes, and am working full time. So, technically I haven’t had a lot of time to write, but I’m missing it. My goal for twenty-seven (how old I am) was to blog three times a week. Guys, I already failed! But, you can always start fresh.
The last time I wrote, I shared that I started back with therapy. I’m still going strong with it and it’s been helping in a lot of ways. In others, I still have a lot of work. Rome wasn’t built in a day though. Therapy has given me a lot to think about: past traumas, my grief, and my future. I should say, it’s given me constructive ways to think about all of it. Anxiety forces you to think of all those things, but I’m starting to see how I can still function and think about those things too.
Two weeks ago, I sort of had a full circle moment. My therapist and I are going through my trauma timeline. It sounds a lot more… scary… than it actually is. It’s still a little scary though. On that particular day, we talked about Jensen.
I found out… it’s still really hard to talk about the events of that day and the weeks following.
Duh, right? You don’t just wake up one day and are completely healed when your child dies. It doesn’t work like that. Shouting that to everyone that thinks it does. I’ve told Jensen’s story to so many times: out loud, writing it down, and in my head. Earlier in my grief, I was getting more comfortablewith used to talking about his death and all my emotions after to other people. It’s been a little while since I have and I didn’t realize how big of a difference it was.
When my therapist asked if I was alright sharing about Jensen, his death, and how I handled things after, I told her yes with no inkling that I would be… weeping during it all. Yes, weeping.
I told her about my pregnancy and how hard it was emotionally on me. When we got to the day we found out he died, I went into detail about how my stomach just dropped and it felt like I was dead inside. I skipped around on the actual details of the birth because I felt my throat closing up. The post emotions of his birth and funeral and life after were hard to talk about too. It was just so difficult to bring back all those feelings and put myself back in that place again. That talk and just thinking about how traumatic his death was and still is has really.. re-affected me?
So many times parents are told they’re going to be better with time after losing their child. I’m not going to disagree in the fact that everyday life gets easier. It does. Your routine changes and life still goes on. That sounds harsh and I wouldn’t have wanted to hear that in the first few months after, but it’s true (for me). I think when outside people see parents after loss reemerging into their routine or job or whatever, they think it’s all ‘better.’ On the outside, they’re complying with society and not being outwardly upset.
For me, I can see my switch. I have to do what I have to do to work and do school and parent Mila and whatever else may need done. When I’m out in the world, I’m not as quick to snap that my son’s dead to people that say things. I’m more aware that the world isn’t really… sensitive to dead babies or uncomfortable grief. It’s not a settling thing at all, so I get that. I don’t bring Jensen up in every conversation anymore. When someone leaves him out or forgets him, I internalize it. I still feel the hurt, but I try to make others feel.. better.
BUT (!!!) it still hurts. I’m functional, but I still miss Jensen with every ounce of me.
I can tell you certain comments sting and having someone not mention or forget about him feels so awful. Talking about it all with my therapist made me realize what I (and so many people) went through was the worst thing ever.
The silence. The decisions. The hollowness. The tears. The solitude. The grief.
I think I got into the routine of being a mom to Mila and life, that I put those emotions on the back burner. I let the outside, ‘it gets better,’ get to me. Letting everyone else be comfortable in my child dying has put my real emotions, trauma, and heartbreak in an unaccessible place; until it has to come up.
Through the teary session and the last two weeks, I’ve definitely given myself more credit for all I’ve endured through losing Jensen. Our minds try to protect itself from all that pain. I’m thankful for that, truly. I guess I just wanted to say through this whole thing is I miss him and I’m proud of where I am today.
I think it’s also been a productive thing to feel all of these emotions again. Jensen would be starting preschool this year, which I haven’t talked about with anyone. I’ve been suppressing a lot of things lately (thanks exhaustion). Sharing Jensen with someone new and showing my love for him and how I care for him now has helped this stage of healing. I know I’ll always feel this emotional response when talking about him and it’s okay. It’s okay to be sad he’s not here, just like it’s okay to celebrate his life.
There isn’t a rule book about losing a baby or child at any age. If you haven’t been through it, you know nothing about it. That loss and hole in your heart doesn’t get easier, it just gets lighter to carry through time.
Here’s Jensen’s story if you’ve never read it or would like to read it again. I wrote it in 2016 and have been thinking about rewriting it again to see how I remember it almost five years out. If I do, you can bet I’ll share it here.
Grey Skies & Rainbow Highs 