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Some of the toughest decisions are those where we have to decide if we should stay or walk away from a situation. It's never an easy decision to make, but sometimes it's the best thing for you. After my junior year of NCAA soccer I was faced with decision of whether or not I wanted to continue my career. After two solid seasons in the net I found myself on the bench my entire jr year until the very last game, which was ultimately more of a slap in the face than anything. Like "hey we aren't going to make tournament unless we win this game against the best team in the conference who also happens to be top 10 in the nation. No pressure." I was disappointed in myself after that game, and hung my head ashamed that I didn't make a difference that season. I beat myself up all season long about not being on the field. I felt guilty after a loss, but I wasn't even the one on the field. But that's where I had to stop myself. I couldn't throw a pity party,...

I'm really good at stirring the pot. Really good. So... grab your coffee/beer/wine/water/apple juice... whatever the H E DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS you want to fill your cup with, buckle up, and enjoy the ride. Last week we celebrated Christian's first birthday. Notice I said celebrated. I did not say mourned, forgot, overlooked, disregarded, or neglected. We did not ignore that we have a brother/son. We lite candles and hung the star lights from his nursery on the porch the night before his birthday and the day of we took him balloons and spent the day together. Had his physical presence been her with us we would have celebrated the exact same way. Celebrated. Together. Being a newb (newbie) to this whole baby brother in heaven thing, I didn't know what to expect for his first birthday. Would people acknowledge that it was the day he was born? Or would they continue to overlook that I have a brother. Now, let me explain. The past year has been full of saying CJ's name. A...

It's here. One year ago on August 13 I held my brother for the first and last time. The feels are way too real tonight. (The following is what happened over the course of the next few days from my point of view, read at your own risk... and don't say I didn't warn you.) August 12 was just like any other day. I got up and went to work. We played hopscotch, rode bikes, had lunch, and painted the infamous picture talked about in a previous blog . I got off work and stopped for gas. As I waited for the tank to fill I got a text from Mom asking me to come straight home. Never in a million years did I see what was coming next. As I pulled into the driveway the doctor called me to say that everything looked good at my yearly appointment and she looked forward to seeing me again. She obviously didn't make the connection of who my mom was and how soon she would be seeing me. She was the doctor who would deliver CJ the next morning. I pulled the car into the garage and went ...

If there was one thing I wish I didn't have to answer for the next month it would be "what's the matter?/are you okay?". Last year it was "how are you?". I remember going to Wal-Mart of pick up bagels and juice the morning before Christian's funeral, not that any of us would eat the next morning but at least there was something in the house. The cashier asked me "how are you?", being polite and doing her job but it was enough to tick me off. Thoughts of "my brother died, we're burying him tomorrow, how the hell do you think I am?" swirled though my head. It was everyone's first question. "How are you?" And I was tired of hearing it. Unless you really wanted to know, I didn't want you to ask. And even if you really did care and want to know, I didn't want to answer.  This time around it's "what's the matter?/are you okay?". Do you really have to ask? Is the looming date not a big enough si...

 A year ago today we were sitting in a room full of baby things that were graciously gifted during Mom's baby shower. Tonight i'm physically and emotionally exhausted but feeling the presence of my little brother. After a fun day at the water park with my family and sister's closest friends I ran to grab pizzas for everyone. Was in and out of the store in record time and driving back home. I turned to check my blind spot (which is massive because I was driving our monster of a van) and in the seat sat a little boy, a toddler, who gave me the biggest smile. Now before anyone gets the wrong idea... physically there was no little boy there. I did not drive off with some strange little boy in my back seat. There was however some sort of presence. I can't describe what I felt when I looked back but I can tell you I have felt it before. A few months ago I rolled over in bed and in the reflection of the mirror on the wall where usually my cowboy hat and jewelry box sit with ...

I'm not one to shy from expressing how/what I am feeling. Heck, I have an open blog for all of your eyes to read! So it should come as no surprise that I take to writing here to... express myself for a few moments. Seven . A number I have rarely said. But yes, I am one of seven . Woah, shocker to those just tuning in. If you've been around for awhile you know my "secret", if not... welcome to the party. I am one of seven. Yes, I have 5 younger sisters and a baby brother. Wrap your brains around that. Somewhere in my past lies a divorce that I don't mention because it doesn't really matter. With that said if you want to be technical I am an only child. But lets be honest, I'm not. So yeah, seven. Why mention that? Well, the rest of this post didn't seem right unless I did. Let's get down to the good stuff. Have 6 other siblings, only talk to 4 (count CJ in there because... well just because). Why not the others, well in a short and sweet senten...

I have this picture hanging in my room that I painted last summer. Usually it doesn't bother me. Today I walked into my room and the tears were inevitable. I looked at it and cried. Almost a year ago I painted said picture while sitting at the kitchen counter with the little girl I watched over the summer. Who would have thought that a year later it would be a water-color, wrinkled piece a paper I may never be able to part with. You see this picture isn't just any picture. Its a picture of my family. The little girl I watched, we will call her B, wanted to paint. So we did. I watched as she moved lots of paint and water around on several pieces of paper in a short amount of time before I suggested she paint a picture of her family. The idea was to slow her down and make her take her time before she claimed she was done painting and bored already. To a complete surprise she agreed but only if I did the same. I watched as B painted her Mom, Dad, brother, and dog, paying close ...