My love for my son is no less fierce or intense. But yes, it is different. Part of this is clearly because of their 3.5 year age gap. For example, communication: My daughter has a stunning vocabulary for her age and a wisdom that is hard to put into words. My son is just learning to speak. It is easier for me to relate to my daughter in many ways, because she can tell me how she is feeling and what she wants and she will sit down with me, whereas my son uses non-verbal communication, his dozen words and a lot of running.

But, as I said, my love for him is unquantifiable. Just this morning the four of us were up early and all cuddled on the couch in the basement, listening to my son’s new favorite song (and let me tell you, he makes it known) and I kind of nuzzled up to his head and inhaled him, like people do with newborn babies. He smells delicious. I can’t describe it, but I got so lost in that smell, I could have stayed there forever.

But if we are being really, truly honest, which I always am, I think that the part of my relationship that mixes me up a bit is the fact that he was born and I subsequently lost my mind. So my feelings about our introduction are a combination of bliss, gratitude, joy, terror, sadness, pain, guilt and some PTSD. Once my mental health started to improve and I was left alone, again, to take care of my son, I thought, “How am I going to do this? How will we work?”

My little guy has surprised me from day 1 of his existence in my womb, and hasn’t stopped. He cracks me up, for in the span of 3 minutes, he will steal my kale smoothie, switch the Living Room TV to a setting that I can’t figure out how to fix, take apart my bathroom vanity, while marching around, bag of pretzels in one hand and blowdryer in the other. (This is what he did after lunch today.) He just tried to race his Matchbox cars over my computer keyboard. He is just different than I am. I am lazy. I like to play chill games. He likes to go go go go go go go go go go.

But something hit me today, as I got dressed, and I was inspired to journal it, as he deserves it. I wanted to write about him. My closet happens to be in my son’s bedroom, so as I picked out my outfit, I sat him on his glider and talked to him. “I’m just putting on my shirt now! What do you think?” And I smiled at him as broadly as I could and he smiled back, with his entire face. I ran to the bathroom that is across the hall from his bedroom and waved to him. He continued to beam.

“We are doing this,” I thought.

This, this period of time right now, is an odd one; This is not what I expected from my life, and I feel the entire spectrum of emotions when I think about it, ranging from extreme sadness to pure happiness. This morning, on that couch, my head in his hair, I was as blissful as anyone could be.

And then there are other times, when I am trying to figure out my path forward, and I get down.

But I realized today that I have this constant reminder with me; My little strength symbol.

I want to be happy, not just for myself (in fact, I put myself last, but that’s a whole different story), but for him.

So right now I am sitting on the floor of the basement, perched on his “Anywhere Chair”, typing, as he runs around, playing trains, sliding down the rollercoaster, handing me a plastic croissant and saying, “Apple, mama?” as he shoves it into my mouth, climbing on the furniture and continuing to mess with yet another TV. I am now listening to the sound of my home phone dialing.

But we’re doing this.

And even though I just had to get up from my chair on the floor (despite my inherent laziness) to hang up the phone because he actually did just call someone, we are doing this.

And so I am going to go now. Not just because he is dialing more numbers, but because I want to give him my time. I want to play with him, cooking together in his fake grill. I want to help him to do a puzzle. I want to smell his head.

So, it may not have been the easiest path,

and every single day still has it’s challenges,

but I get to smell a heavenly head, and see a huge smile that has all but 2 teeth filled in, and laugh at the little drop of milk that gets caught in the cleft of his chin and live in a constant state of surprise and amazement and awe.

And I get to continue to learn, from my baby, how to be strong.

(Our respective perches. At least for this second.)

Update: My mom just called.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing. You called me? I got a missed call from your home phone.”

My son freakin’ called my mom.

“His first call to Bubbie!” she exclaimed, so excited.

“He is delicious.”

And I have to agree.

The post We are doing this appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

you will know that I am an enormous fan of the person and musician named Brett Dennen. You might know that my favorite song is “Sydney (I’ll Come Running)” because of it’s profound meaning to me. Or that I cover his song “Make You Fall in Love With Me” with my band, Fox & the Hounds.

If you know me in real life, you will know that I don’t just love his albums for the quality of the music, but because they have lifted me up during some of my lowest times while enduring my “Hard Story”;

Or this amazing story, during the height of my postpartum, and how, so serendipitously, the liner notes for “Smoke and Mirrors” read, “This album is dedicated to those who might have lost their way but found it again from within.”

Well, it has been a great ride following this person.

And then, he liked my Instagram photo.

Did you catch that?

Oh, hi, Brett Dennen.

Brett Dennen, himself, liked my Instagram photo. Sure he has favorited my tweets; yeah, he called me out for having a “beautiful voice” during his last acoustic show in Wilmington, DE; but when I saw this, I really think that my heart stopped. And I can hardly type, I am so shaky. I am a total nerdy fangirl right now.

This particular gesture means so much to me because it has to do with my kids, both of whom share my love for Brett Dennen.

My daughter likes to play “I’m Kristina Jackson“, Brett’s beautiful partner who is also an incredible natural foods chef and “holistic guru”.

We are both totally nerdy fangirls. But it’s OK. We totally own it.

Because that’s what Brett’s music is all about; be who you are, make no apologies, live your best life.

So today will forever be the day when I woke up from a two hour nap, walked in my daughter’s room to see her listening to Brett Dennen on the iPad, posted a photo on Instagram

and had Brett Dennen like it.

The end.

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I was just looking up the video that I made chronicling my past year in music, and do you know how YouTube shows you a list of videos down the right sidebar of the screen suggesting music that you may like, based on what you are watching currently? Well, I cannot imagine why, but if you are watching my Fox & the Hounds review, the top video that YouTube recommends for you is an obscure video of Brett Dennen singing “Out of My Head” in what appears to be a little guitar shop.

And the reason why I am sharing this, besides the fact that he is my favorite musical artist and he gives me warm and fuzzy feelings inside, is because I find Brett Dennen to be absolutely charming. He is loveable. And I think you can see that here.

And I cherish every charming moment I can;

like this morning when my daughter traded videos with a new yet old friend of mine, involving doggie dance parties, mermaid costumes and “The Book With No Pictures” recitations;

or when we were giving Lola attention and my girl ran upstairs, changed and came down in a pink dress (the color of Lola’s bow) and dog ears;

or, how my son put his head up to mine (his version of a kiss) and said, “Mama”;

or how my daughter said, “Daddy, can you set up my wifi connection?” and we said “Do you know what that means?” and she said, “No. What does it mean?”;

Just a few happy moments that I can gather up into one little, metaphorical charm to place in my pocket and keep with me today.

Give your love, give your love, give your love now.

Any you get it back and you get it back

Featured Image captured by Lindsay Docherty Photography in 2014

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My experience in September changed my life–my entire being–in many ways, both tangible and intangible, large and small. I remembered things about myself that I had forgotten and discovered things that I had never known.

Today, I am trying out a new avenue for physical help. I have no idea what it is going to be like. Fortunately, this is not the same thing as my program in September, and it is local, but I am extremely nervous (hence the sleeplessness). One thing that I admitted last night (and then over email to a friend this morning) is that a thought that I am using as motivation for today is the fact that I will be able to, at some points throughout the day, eat a meal with two hands and go to the bathroom alone. As someone said last night, this is a time when I am putting my oxygen mask on first. And you can be sure that I am getting those oxygen makes over the tiny faces of my kids, but I will be able to do so with fresh air filling my lungs. I wouldn’t be able to do so while feeling sick and passing out.

I am nervous for today–for all of this, really. I had weird dreams last night; They weren’t all so terrible, but in every one I was uncomfortable in some way. In one, I was on a long elevator ride, something that used to be my phobia; In another I had to swim; In another, someone whom I love said something that was supposed to be nice to me, yet made me feel bad; And, I am not kidding, I had one dream in which a venue manager (or someone like that) was talking to me about scheduling a performance for me with my band, but he said he didn’t like the voice of the lead singer, Brett Dennen.

There is a lot more that I want to write, and a lot more people I want to thank, but I am going to take these last 20 minutes before my alarm and cuddle up in the darkness of my room. I put a lot of pressure on myself to makes sure that I have enough published or that I am generating new and varying content on this site (I said in a private message yesterday that this is so unlike me; That I am not at all “Type A”, I am “Type Sparkly”) but it is because this, this right here, means so much to me. And I want it to succeed.

And by succeed I mean I want to help people every day. That is a lofty goal, I realize, but I am going to try.

Well, I guess I am off to a good start, because getting this out, these feelings of incredible vulnerability, is freeing. So I have helped one person today, already.

I have helped myself.

The post Help, Healing and Hope. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

This has included, but is not limited to:

Getting two children dressed and out the door, alone, by 8:30am, dressed in proper clothing and winter attire;

Removing a small boy from the dishwasher;

Kissing 2 boo-boos;

Waking up a sleeping baby who shook his head no and went back to sleep;

Agreeing to sing the boy part of a song, even though I need to learn the girl part;

Slow dancing in my living room with a handsome date;

Pushing up the frozen yogurt in the popsicle (you know, the popsicles that are made when you freeze those long stick yogurts) approximately 14 times;

Pulling a steaming mug of cocoa out of the hands of a baby;

Pulling a plunger out of the hands of a baby;

The list goes on and on.

And, the truth is, this left me with very little time to do anything for myself. I did manage to change from pajama pants to sweatpants, swap a sweatshirt for a sweater and slippers for boots and put on some blush.

But really, the rest of the time, it was just us, and it was nice, as it allowed me to be really present with my children in a way that I wouldn’t be if glued to my phone or computer.

While I may not have had spare time, I did not go technology free; Though my son does not watch TV,

he does watch the XBox1 Music Page. His favorite song is “All About that Bass”, but I also got him to sit through a lot of Brett.

And then, I realized, that maybe the reason why he sits and listens and stares at the screen because he is thinking, “Oh. So this is what I am going to look like when I grow up.”

It is nice to be off the grid a bit,

with a kid on my lap,

with a popsicle in his mouth,

as it drips down my sweatpants.

If only I had stayed in my pajamas.

The post A quiet day at home. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

but we have got some more work accomplished on this remodeling project and I want to make sure you know just where to look:

Along the right side of the page, just below the ads, you can now find two new features:

The first has been the subject of many questions and I am thrilled to tell you that you can now subscribe to Mommy, Ever After, so that if you sign up, you will receive an email every time a new post has been added. And, in even more fabulous news, the geniuses at Brand Revive set it up so that if you were a former subscriber on the old site, you are automatically subscribed to MommyEverAfter.com.

The second addition is a link to all of my current social media pages.

Here you can access my

Facebook Page:

Twitter:

and Instagram:

Now you can stay connected with Mommy, Ever After so that you will know the very moment that I tweet @brettdennen or spill a kale smoothie.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this portion of our tour.

More to come…

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I know that I have some experience in writing hard posts, but this is a different kind of hard. Because although I have endured pain in the past year, there is unique, exquisite ache that comes with nostalgia, which is really the heart of this post.

Nostalgia is defined as “a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.”

I keep writing words and then deleting them. There is no good place to start. So let me try to start with a song.

If you read this blog, you probably think that I am sponsored by Brett Dennen with all that I write. I am not. He is, however, my favorite musical artist. A lot of that is because I am enamored with his music and person–he is as generous as he is talented–but I also have an incredibly positive and palpable association with Brett Dennen, one that I haven’t shared before.

If you have been reading here for a long time, you know that a main character in my life is Twin. If you are new and do not know about Twin, you can catch up very easily; but if wading through old posts isn’t your thing, all you need to know is that Twin is my other half, she lives in another state, and I met her when we lived across the world. I will explain more in a bit.

First, let me get back to Brett, because talking about Twin gets me all tongue (finger) tied.

Back on November 20, 2011 we, sadly, drove Twin and her husband, Go Go, to the airport after a fabulous weekend visit in Philadelphia. As we pulled up to their terminal, my ears caught the song that was playing on the radio, on xpn and I was able to remember enough lyrics to type them into Google and I found out that this song I heard was actually called Sydney (I’ll Come Running) by a singer with whom I was not familiar; Brett Dennen.

When I got home, I listened to the song on repeat and looked up the lyrics. I was amazed to see that the song was about being there for a friend, and that this friend is someone for whom you would do anything in the world;

And if you ever need me, call me
I’ll come runnin’ straight to you
Straight from the airport
(I’ll come runnin’)
Cut through the customs line
(I’ll come runnin’)
Bust down the courthouse doors
(I’ll come runnin’)
Sydney, I will testify
(I’ll come runnin’)
Sydney, I will testify

What an interesting coincidence it was that I heard this song as I was with girl for whom I would do anything, dropping her off at the airport.

And that is how my Brett Dennen Story began. But not my story with Twin. Twin’s story started long before that car ride. It started this week, ten years ago, in Barcelona, Spain.

It is our ten year anniversary of our time in Barca.

I left for Spain on New Year’s Day, 2005, spent the night of the 2nd with family friends in Madrid, and then flew to Barcelona on January 3rd.

I was given keys to my apartment, where I had been randomly assigned four roommates from all across the country.

When I arrived at 433 Avenida Gran Via de les Corts Catalanes, Apartmento 31B, I found that I was the last of the roommates to get there, yet somehow, my key was for the only single bedroom in the expansive apartment.

It is a little bit of a blur now, a mixture of emotion and time, but I know that I met the other girls and that Twin had already gone to the local grocery store and that she had a huge smile and a tight hug.

The month before, Twin and I had started emailing (or, to be more accurate, Facebook Messaging) because she realized that we shared the same birthday (hence our nickname).

It was winter break so I was sleeping at my parents’ house, on their old desktop downstairs, and I was so excited about my soon-to-be-roomie that I woke up my mom and said, “Guess what? My roommate and I are messaging and we have the same birthday! And she’s from Boston! And she is SO nice!”

My mom, lucid, despite being roused from slumber, said, “You two are going to be friends for the rest of your lives.”

***

Back to Barcelona. I have written about my time there before, and I will write again,

but I just needed to celebrate, or simply acknowledge the fact that it is our ten year anniversary.

Our building was (is) stunning. It has an epic marble staircase and an old fashioned elevator and our apartment was surrounded by other apartments occupied by study abroad kids. For the first few nights we spent time drinking wine out of the bottle as it was passed around the room of the boys who lived directly above us (which was legal for me as a 19 year old! Woo!) and having oh-so-European dinners that started past 10 o’clock.

I remember cab rides where I would have to sit on someone’s lap and have to duck down to avoid being fined for cramming five people into the car. I remember getting hit in the face by a huge beer glass that slipped off a server’s tray at a bar. I remember the big things, but also the tiny things, like finding one of those blue tins of assorted butter cookies at a shop around the corner. In a place that felt so new, it was nice to have a small piece of home.

But the real magic of those first few days was centered around the Three Kings celebration. I do not know a tremendous amount about this custom, so pardon me, but what I do know is that takes place after Christmas and New Years and is a festive time with parades and gift giving and vendors lining our street with booths lit with tiny white lights. It looked so enchanting.

And in thinking about those first few nights of my stay in Barcelona, I want to cry.

Twin and I talk in some way nearly every single day.

I can go downstairs right now and open any bottle of wine that I want.

Our next door neighbors are two of our best friends and we could easily have a wine night with them (though we typically don’t drink straight from the bottle. Okay. It happened once).

But there is something about that indescribable magic that I will never be able to put into words.

In the ten years since I have been home from Barcelona, Twin and I have seen each other a great many times in a handful of states.

She has held both of my babies.

I was the Matron of Honor in her wedding and she was a bridesmaid in mine.

We have shared luxurious hotel rooms and cozy dinners and dance parties and triumphs and defeats.

And we are bonded by so many things: Our values, our personalities, our similarities, our love of literature, our travels together, our care packages sent across the country dozens of times, our history…

But I think that one of the things that bonds us most, even after all of this time, is that we both know the thing that doesn’t have words. We know the magic. We know what it was like to walk down the street to the convenience store to purchase a bottle of rosé on an avenue that was  illuminated by strands of glowing bulbs.

Barcelona brought me a great many things. The tangible things, like the bottle of nail polish and Burberry scarf that I still have from El Corte Ingles and the strawberry print bathing suit from Blanco. And the intangibles; I became fluent in Spanish. I learned how to be more independent. I traveled across Europe (and even flew in the cockpit of a flight from Barca to Venice during landing).

But more than anything, it brought to me the girl

who is now a woman

who is my Twin.

One night, I believe it was towards the beginning-middle of our stay, she and I had a heart to heart in her bedroom that lasted hours. And it was then that I realized that we weren’t just Twins because we share a birthday or have similar features; more than that we have similar stories and similar hearts.

We have grown up together.

***

When Twin and Go Go got married in August of 2013, I was so honored to be the one standing next to her, holding her bouquet and making their toast. My daughter was the flower girl, my parents were guests, and it was one of the most special weekends of my life.

But one thing that sticks out to me is that during a lull in the dancing portion of the party, as a course was being served, Twin had gotten the DJ to surprise us by playing “Sydney (I’ll Come Running)” and though the rest of the dance floor was empty, we gathered and danced in a circle, my daughter leading the pack.

Whenever you feel unhappy
All you have to do is call me
I can make you laugh

Whenever you think you need me

call me up and I’ll come running

straight to you.

Happy 10 years. To my memories. To my city. And, most of all, to my sister, mi gemela,

My Twin.

The post Happy Anniversary, sweet city. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

Well, it may not be our thwarted big family trip to St. John, but I’m cozy, under a blanket, listening to my main man’s music,

working on THE NEW WEBSITE

and OMG do I have a story for you as my big premiere.

I literally could not make this stuff up.

Stay warm and stay tuned.

The post Could be a whole heck of a lot worse. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

And I can safely say he is my second favorite enormously tall, bespectacled redhead.

I just discovered this version of one of my favorite songs–one that we perform in my band–so I thought I’d share the love.

Heart emoji.

The post I’m gonna make you fall in love with Brett Dennen appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

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