A Day in Mollywood

A Broken Heart Fixed

Molly — Mon, 20 May 2013 13:00:46 +0000

I’ve been trying to write this post for what feels like forever. It has been over a month now that we knew my mom needed open heart surgery but every time I came here to write about it I broke down at my computer. I think this surgery is the reason why I haven’t written here very much lately. I feel stuck.

Just typing it out – my mom needs heart surgery – is so scary to me.

When we first found out I was not okay. I could not stop crying when I thought about the day she would go into surgery. I cried myself to sleep the night we found out. I think it was more shock than anything. My mom is only 67-years-old. How can she need something like this already?

For the longest time I have been in denial that my parents are getting older. I think it’s because they are always busy and stay active and have never really had any big medical issues. My mom hasn’t really had any symptoms of aortic stenosis. But apparently, her artery has been closing in for some time. We just didn’t know it.

I believe that God gave my mom a warning sign. She was in the garden last summer and temporarily went blind in one eye. She went to the emergency room and tests were ordered. It is believed that she may have had a mini stroke caused by a blood clot. This is something that happens with aortic stenosis. But don’t you think it was a sign? I think everything happens for a reason. And although it’s scary I’m glad she found out and can actually do something about it!

If she doesn’t get it done her risk of sudden cardiac death is high. Well, we just can’t have that risk floating around! Nope, my mom is too precious to this family. My mom has A LOT to live for. She has five beautiful, young grandchildren, all of whom love her dearly. She also has four daughters, all of whom want her around for a long, long time.

She is the matriarch of our family. Her role is so important in bringing us all together for family reunions and gatherings. I will never forget the way she cooks a turkey or ham or her famous noodles for holidays.

Or the way we all sit around the kitchen table, talking and laughing and sharing memories.

I have to believe that more of these special times will happen. I have to believe it because my mom needs us all to believe it.

I can’t tell you how anxious I am. I know my mom and my whole family are waiting. Waiting for surgery day. I just want the surgery to be done so she can recover and we can all move on with our lives.

If you’re a praying person – please think of my mom tomorrow morning as she goes into surgery. Please pray for the doctor. We have the best heart surgeon in the city, but pray for his wisdom and for steady hands.

Pray that she makes it through the surgery with no issues or complications. Pray that her recovery would be smooth and that there would be very little pain.

I love my mom. I know that chances are very good that everything will be fine and the surgery will be successful but that doesn’t make this any less difficult.

She has always been a support to me through everything in my life. She has always lifted me up when I was feeling down. She’s the one who sat on the edge of my bed when I was in my early twenties. She sat there while I cried and told her that no one would ever love me. That I would never find my soulmate. She’s the one who told me that my prince charming was out there waiting for me. And she was right. Mine was a broken heart fixed. And hers will be too.

Thanks, mom, for always being a beacon of light in my darkest of days. I love you.

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So Much More Than a Show

Molly — Fri, 17 May 2013 16:37:16 +0000

We all lined up waiting to walk out on stage. Fourteen of us. All beautiful in our own ways, inside and out. Then we started walking. I held my breath. I wasn’t really nervous. Just excited to finally share my story. One of my favorites I have ever written on this blog.

The Random Placement of People is something I wrote in 2010. Landon was two-years-old and Brigham was five-months-old. It was a challenging time in our lives, which is putting it lightly. Brigham was constantly sick and Landon, well, he was two. You catch my drift, mothers.

But on one particularly awful day, I was gifted perspective by a stranger in the pharmacy. It was so unexpected but exactly what I needed to hear. Sometimes I wonder . . . will that old man ever know what he did for me? Will that old man ever know that I will never forget him – or the story of his wife and children?

I took my seat on stage and waited my turn to speak. As I waited, I listened to my fellow cast-mates. It was amazing. There were 300 people staring back at us but they read their truths with such power. We all have different realities, yet we were all united during those two precious hours.

We cried together. We laughed together. I watched as audience members pulled tissues out of their purses. We mourned the loss of a husband. We laughed at a story of mom’s night out at the gun range. We felt the pain of hearts broken with a devastating diagnosis. We held hands as a mom explained what postpartum depression is really like. And my story, a story about finding perspective in a seemingly selfish world. All these moments. All these lives. We didn’t know each other when these stories unfolded. But now our stories remain forever entangled in each other. Because there was one common denominator. They all represent overcoming the challenges of motherhood.

When it was my turn and I reached the hard part in my reading, my voice cracked as I held back tears. I don’t know why that moment in the pharmacy still breaks me. I suppose it opens the wound of my deepest fears – that I could lose that which is most precious to me – my children. But that moment in the pharmacy also taught me to hug harder, love harder, celebrate the good.

I finished my piece and the applause was so loud it echoed the halls afterward. I felt pride. I felt good about myself. I felt as if I had peppered the audience with a bit of sadness and happiness in a big old mixed up world. But the thing is – the Listen to Your Mother show makes the world smaller, if only for a couple hours. These voices are important. This show proves it.

As mothers we have a choice. Even if you’re not in a show you can still tell your stories. You can still share the hard moments with friends and family. It doesn’t make us weak. What may seem like a mundane day could be just what someone else needed to hear. The truth matters to moms. It gives us hope.

Listen to Your Mother was in 24 cities and I was lucky enough to be a part of it. Blessed to meet these fourteen women. Blessed to hear their words and witness their strength.

When we finished, multiple people stopped me to tell me how my story resonated with them. How it made them nod their heads and say, yeah, me too. How it made them appreciate what they have.

That’s all I wanted. I’m not looking for fame and fortune. I’m just a simple girl with a knack for storytelling. I hope the old man in the pharmacy changes you as much as he did me. I will never forget him. Just like I’ll never forget this show or the women who held back nothing.

all photos courtesy of Karen Ledford Photography

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Mother’s Day 2013

Molly — Wed, 15 May 2013 18:37:53 +0000

Mother’s Day 2013

Just feeling so blessed that these two guys give me a reason to celebrate Mother’s Day.

We went to my parents house for dinner and seeing my boys riding their bikes in the same
cul-de-sac that I learned to ride my bike in was a fantastic moment for me.

We had a picnic in the park for lunch. The weather was so nice and I get no greater joy than watching my boys have fun together outside.

Landon made me this for Mother’s Day. It’s our family on a swingset <3

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Happy 3rd Birthday, Brigham

Molly — Thu, 02 May 2013 12:30:14 +0000

Every time I start to write another birthday post I have to stop. Breathe in and out. And admit that no matter what I do my kids will grow up.

Brigham is no exception. He’s growing up.

Today our Brigham is three-years-old. Another awesome year passed and a new one is on the horizon.

I could write so much about him. But instead I will say . . .

I wish you could hear his laugh. When he really gets going it sounds like a witch’s cackle and it’s hilarious. It makes me laugh when he laughs. Sometimes he laughs for no reason other than just pure happiness spilled over.

I wish you could see how silly he is. He has always been a very silly boy. He makes up words. For real. He has his own language. He makes up songs too. I’d like to believe this is all done for my enjoyment. But I think he’s just an entertainer!

I wish you could be there when he flashes one of his famous eye-squinted smiles. He smiles so big, like he is proud of who he is. I hope he never loses that feeling. I hope he always smiles, teeth showing and chin sticking out.

I wish you could hear him sing the alphabet song. Or twinkle twinkle little star. Or the power rangers song. This child is full of pure joy. And he is a joy to be around.

I wish you could witness one of his tantrums. Whew, boy. They are something. We coined him “drama baby” when he was first born. He has quite the flair for drama. I’m glad his tantrums are few and far between because when they happen – they are the sort of tantrum that makes you throw your hands up in the air and sigh. You just have to wait a few minutes and then he’s a cool cat again. But like I said, they are something.

I wish you could feel his sweet hugs. Every mama and daddy deserves to be hugged like this. Although he is a little boy now, in preschool and everything, he still seems like such a baby to me. I suppose he will always be my baby no matter how many birthdays have gone by.

I wish you could hear him whisper, “I love you.” Those words make every day worth living for me. I feel so lucky that I’m the one who gets to hear him say it every night. I’m so lucky that I’m the one that gets to retrieve his lost elmo before he closes his eyes.

I wish you could see him with his big brother. He wants nothing more in life than to be just like him. I watched them as they played together outside the other night. Landon hoisted his foot up on a rock and seconds later, Brigham did the same thing. I hope they grow to always love and respect one another. Right now, there are quite a few squabbles. But at night they stand at their bedroom doors and say, “Night night, buddy.” Then they hug in the middle of the hallway, usually knocking each other down in a fit of laughter. Seeing them together fills my heart so full of love.

Three years ago today I was holding an hours-old, brand new Brigham in my arms, thanking God for giving me another precious gift.

And today, although he’s a lot bigger than that first morning we spent together, I will do the same thing.

I will hold him and thank God again. His third birthday and every day that follows.

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I just wanted to get something for dinner

Molly — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 14:16:57 +0000

It was a glorious eighty degrees yesterday. I woke up in a good mood and promised the boys I would take them to the zoo. Grandma and Papaw decided to come along and we all had lots of fun looking at the animals. We watched the sea lions swim and they were amazed by how fast they went. I was soaking up our wonderful day out together.

It was 2:00 when we decided to leave. I knew it was too late for the boys to take a nap. We had missed the nap window but that was okay. I was trying to go with the flow.

Landon called out from the back seat that he wanted to go to the park. I was surprised because I figured they were tired but it was such a nice day that I didn’t want to waste it inside. So off we went to the park. We stayed for an hour. The boys were thirsty so I let them go into the gas station and pick out a drink. They picked sugary juice and I let them have it because I was trying to be nice.

I was thinking about the fact that we had nothing to eat for dinner. So I decided we should go to the store. Are you already thinking about how this story ends?

Overtired kids + sugar + contained in shopping cart = disaster

I have never in my years of parenting had a more horrible shopping experience. It started out fine. We renewed our Costco membership. The cart was big enough for both of them to sit in the front and we wandered around tasting some foods while shopping.

Then Landon wanted out of the cart. And then, of course, Brigham did. I gave in because I did not want tantrums in the store. Suddenly my kids were completely out of control. Running up and down the aisles, screaming at the top of their lungs. I turned my head for a second and Brigham had disappeared! I screamed his name three times before he came out from under the huge stock shelves. I told him that he had to get back in the cart and he started crying uncontrollably. I tried to get a hold of him to put him back in but he straightened his legs and every mom knows that you can’t get a kid in a cart unless he bends his legs. A nice man came over to ask if we needed any help. This was better than the people who were laughing when they walked past me. Yes, laughing. They were laughing at me.

So Brigham was screaming bloody murder and the whole store was staring. It was one of the worst tantrums I’ve seen. I was the mom who could not get control of her kids. I was the mom being judged by the other patrons of the store.

I tried to hurry and get things in the cart but I finally gave up and headed to check out. Brigham and Landon were running in front of me. Brigham fell down and half got run over by my cart and started crying again.

It was a nightmare.

The checkout lines were a mile long and the boys started running circles around me. I told them to stop. I told them to hold onto the cart. But they wouldn’t listen. They were grabbing other people’s groceries. Using potty words. Laying on the floor.

I turned around to grab Brigham and an older woman was pointing at us and whispering to her husband.

I bit my bottom lip to try not to cry.

When we got to the car I scolded them both but all they did was laugh at me. I’m not going to lie. I bawled while driving home. Here we were having such a blast at the zoo. I wanted to do something fun with them on my day off and they don’t even appreciate it. Not one bit.

Sometimes I feel so defeated. Sometimes I struggle so much at being their mother. I try to do right by them but they just don’t listen to me. And I feel like a failure.

I just want to scream, WHEN DOES THIS GET EASIER?!

But I should know by now that it doesn’t ever get easier. It just gets different.

I’m tired. I don’t always enjoy this motherhood gig. I don’t enjoy feeling like I’ve been run over by a truck when all I wanted to do was go into a store and buy something for dinner. Will there ever be a time when my kids will listen to me? Will they ever appreciate the things I do for them?

At the same time I know that my children’s behavior is a direct reflection on me. It was my fault that they were overtired. It was my fault that they had too much sugar. I didn’t really think about those things when we went into the store.

My kids aren’t the bad ones . . . I am.

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I’m not ready to be honest

Molly — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 16:25:07 +0000

I found out about the Boston marathon bombing because I just happened to be on Facebook and saw someone post about it. As I’ve written before – I don’t watch the news. Due to my anxiety disorder it’s just not healthy for me. We certainly never watch the news in front of the kids. They are now old enough to notice when something bad is happening and ask questions about it.

But we were going out to dinner the night it happened. The restaurant had televisions everywhere so no matter where we sat – there it was. Played over and over and over again. I was smart enough to look away.

Then Landon asked, “Why does that guy have blood on his mouth?”

Oh.Shit.

While I was panicking my mom calmly told him that someone fell down and hurt themselves. But then another person with blood on them was being interviewed and he asked the same question.

I’m not ready for this.

I’m not ready to tell my sons that this world is sometimes a bad place. That innocent people die because hatred fills the hearts of many. That blood was running because a bomb went off on unsuspecting people who were there to celebrate their loved ones.

I’m not ready. You can’t make me tell my sons that this world is not always safe.

I don’t know when I’ll be ready to have that conversation. Brigham turns three in a couple weeks and Landon turns five in August. The day will come for honesty. But today is not that day.

Right now all I want them to think about is springtime and practicing soccer and snacks and reading their favorite books. I want them to sleep soundly knowing that they are protected.

I am heartbroken over this tragedy.

But I’m not ready to be honest and share the truth of this world. The only truth I want them to know is that they are loved. By us. And by a God that holds all of His children in His hands.

Linking up with Mandy’s blog

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No Filter

Molly — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 12:30:20 +0000

Sometimes you just need to disappear from the blogging world for awhile. Nothing significant is happening. Just life in general. I was sick with a head cold and it is finally leaving me. It sucks when you’re trying to live life and you can’t breathe out of your nose. I filled myself up with antihistamines just to get through the day.

I’m feeling, I don’t know, restless. I’ve been at my job for seven months now and it must be the seven month itch but I’m just sick of it. There was a round of random lay-offs and it has me scared that this isn’t the most stable place to be. So what now? Back to the job-hunt? I’m bitter. I wish I could just stay home.

I had a bad parenting day last week. Brigham got my cold and was up all night coughing. So I woke up tired and groggy and in a bad mood. Lack of sleep is a recipe for disaster for me. I have no patience for anything when I’ve gotten no sleep. In turn, I yelled at my kids for some stupid shit like the fact that Brigham wouldn’t put on his shoes.

You know, it’s strange. I try to be more aware so that I don’t get upset at my kids. I give myself pep talks. Molly, don’t get upset and yell because it will only make the kids and you feel terrible. Well, I started yelling anyway and while I was doing it my brain was screaming at me to S.T.O.P. because I knew it was wrong. I wish I could have just turned around for a minute and gained composure. But instead I messed up and then I end up feeling guilty about it for weeks afterward.

Brigham started crying. Landon just sat there looking up at me and then one lone tear dropped from his eye. It was the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. They don’t understand why I get upset and I know they are left feeling sad and confused because of their mommy’s behavior.

God, sometimes I really hate myself.

I’ve got two blog posts just setting in the drafts folder. They are a month old. One I just can’t bring myself to post because it makes me sad and the other I’m terrified to post because I’ve never told anyone. It’s an important post though and I so desperately want and need to release this from me. But I’m scared. I tell myself every Sunday that I’m going to post them but the weeks fly by and they are still unpublished.

I’ve really been struggling with anxiety lately. My mom found out that she needs open heart surgery and although I’m positive that everything will work out okay and she will be fine, unfortunately, my brain just isn’t kind to me in these situations. I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I say prayers with Landon every night and each night we pray for Grandma’s heart. If you could spare a prayer for her I would love you forever.

I realize this is kind of a depressing post. But it’s either this or no writing at all. This is just where I am in my life right now. Feeling quite blah about it all. You know how on Instagram you can use filters to make life look prettier than it really is? But when people don’t use one they tag it with #nofilter. Well, that’s what this is today. Blogging with no filter.

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Easter was good

Molly — Thu, 04 Apr 2013 17:48:05 +0000

We had a wonderful Easter weekend, filled with family and food. Naaman was supposed to work but he got canceled so we got to spend the day together as a family of four. It doesn’t happen often but when it does it is so much sweeter.

The boys were so cute together. It really made me stop and think how blessed we are with these special little boys in our lives.

Life is busy but I just had to take a few minutes and share these photos.

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How Landon’s birth shaped me as a mother

Molly — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 15:50:54 +0000

Today I’m excited to be over at The Happiest Mom sharing a more in-depth look at Landon’s birth. I’ve written his birth story but this goes into much more detail of how that most important day played out. It certainly wasn’t the birth I pictured but I am thankful every day that Landon is here with us, alive and healthy. His birth shaped who I am as a mother, that day and forever.

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NyQuil, take me away

Molly — Thu, 28 Mar 2013 16:27:14 +0000

You know how you go on vacation and everything is perfect and you’re basking in the glow of your new found freedom. Then you get back and reality quickly slaps you in the face?

Yeah, that.

I haven’t blogged since last week. I’m surprised we’re even unpacked and that the laundry is done considering how overwhelmed I feel. When you miss three days of work it just piles up on you and you have to play catch up.

To top it all off I am now sick with a bad head cold. Riding in airplanes always does that. There is no way to escape the germs so I always get sick after a trip.

I feel exhausted, run down, like I don’t know where to start.

I need to call the dentist and the eye doctor. I ran out of one of my meds but my psychiatrist won’t refill it because apparently you have to keep seeing him even when you feel fine. So I need to make an appointment for that too.

How am I supposed to make all these appointments when I work full-time? Ain’t nobody got time for all this shit.

You know those mornings when you first open your eyes and you’re just like nope, I can’t do it today. Sorry universe.

I’ve been having a few of those lately.

But the thing is – when you’re a mom and a wife and an employee and a friend and a freelance writer and a blogger – you can’t just take more NyQuil and go back to sleep.

That little bottle of heaven is calling my name right now.

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