denise Leora madre

School has been out for about a week, and I am exhausted! I miss my children like crazy when they go off to school, but when they’re home all day and looking at me as if I were the Activities Director of their personal cruise line, I start counting the days until September. And apologizing to every teacher-friend I have. In all seriousness, the time together has been great. And because they attend a six-week Extended School Year program each summer, I have to make the most of the next few weeks.

My blog posts often highlight moments where motherhood has thrown me for a considerable loop.  In The Motherhood Diaries 2 , twenty-four other mothers and I share our ups, downs, and all-arounds in the name of solidarity and preserving our sanity. And in that same spirit, here's an excerpt from my essay, "Diary of The Naive Mom...(Or Everything I Didn't Know)." Many words accurately describe me: Creative. Insightful. Passionate. Optimistic. But the one I like least. . .  and which most thoroughly applies, I’m afraid. . . is naïve. In high school, I heard a story about Toni Braxton being “discovered” while pumping gas. As I also harbored deep-seated dreams of singing stardom, I believed such a thing would happen to me. Only in my early 20’s did I discover — to my great shock and confusion — that this occurrence was not only highly improbable but also a poor substitute for a life plan.

"The Motherhood Diaries 2: Humorous and Heartwarming Musings on Motherhood" is the second volume from nationally bestselling writer and editor ReShonda Tate Billingsley. I am honored and excited to be included among the 25 fabulous women appearing in the anthology! Being published is a dream come true, the main aim of any writer. But to be included in a collection celebrating the most challenging and life-defining aspect of my existence is particularly satisfying. I am not a perfect mom, but I'm a newly published one, and that is pretty darn cool! (Take that, Mom Guilt!) Look for "The Motherhood Diaries 2" this month, just in time for Mother's Day! Here's a little preview to whet your appetite. If you'd like an autographed hard copy, comment below with your email address, and I'll get in touch with you. Here's to Getting a Yes!

A good start, I think. Image Courtesy of Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net My youngest daughter Braylee receives weekly speech and behavioral therapy in our home. Based on her initial evaluation, her therapists work with her toward certain goals, updating me after each visit. Right now they are encouraging Braylee to speak in longer phrases. Instead of “book, Mommy,” they advocate, “I want the book, Mommy.” The more words she speaks, the better.

My dear friend and all-around amazing woman, ForHisGlory Natural , opens her heart to reveal a poignant, beautiful picture of how God's love can appear during one of the most difficult trials a woman can face. Her honesty is as lovely as she is, and I know you will be blessed by her story. ______________________________________________________________ Life After Death: Finding Treasure in Your Trials In August it’ll be two years since it happened. You often hear birth stories but rarely hear about the pregnancies that never lead to births. I was 29 years old when we lost our second child. I thought I knew what I was doing with my life, felt like I had the "bull by the horns." Everything was planned out, right down to our dogs' names (we had no dogs, by the way - still don't). But these words changed everything... "It looks like you're going to have a miscarriage."

Ten years ago on April 30 th , I was in a different place. Literally. I awoke alone in the twin bed from my teen years, the most important of days peeking over the horizon. After leaving Howard University during junior year on God’s bizarre orders, I’d moved into Mommy’s Chestnut Hill apartment. Those two years forged a unique bond and synergy we still share, but on this morning, I was preparing to put on my big girl panties and get my own place. At age 26, it was time.

The calm in the storm. Image Courtesy of samuiblue / FreeDigitalPhotos.net Some church friends and I are each doing an Immersion Bible Study on different passages of scripture, the idea being to learn as much about the verses and their personal implications as possible. I am studying Mark's account of Jesus calming the stormy sea, specifically His command in 4:39, "Peace, be still." Those three words have provided much-needed comfort, strength, and constraint over the past few weeks.

Countless blogs including this one have often paused to admit one truth. Parenting is difficult. We don’t complain for kicks or to garner sympathy. We share our passion and pet peeves because we just didn't realize it would be like this , whatever our  this is. We thought parenting would be more of abc and less of xyz. We thought our children would reveal one set of traits hidden within us and they instead unleashed a completely different set, one of which we are sometimes ashamed. Realizing other parents experience these dueling dualities makes us feel a little less loopy. And a lot less alone. Although I know my children know nothing of these musings, every now and then they say or do something that makes me feel as if I am not totally screwing this (and them) up. Tonight Braylee did.

At 3:50 this morning, I awoke to Jonan calling through the bedroom door, “Mom, can you help Braylee get back in the bed?” Mommy to the rescue! (Image Courtesy of artur84 / FreeDigitalPhotos.net) I jumped up with a groggy “Yes, honey, of course!” donned my bathrobe, and headed to their room. As I stumbled down the short hallway, I marveled that I missed the ‘boom’ when Braylee hit the floor after falling out of bed. Then I wondered how she did that when Jonan sleeps on the outside. And as I thought of Jonan, I realized he didn't seem all that concerned about Braylee being injured, which wasn't like him. He’s the kid who can’t focus in school if a classmate is crying or upset, the one who seemed able to read and respond to my emotions before he knew his ABCs. Watching him take Braylee’s tumble in literal stride—I mean, could he walk any more casually?—I entered their bedroom and realized my error.

Mom Guilt. Just seeing the phrase burdens you, doesn't it, Mom? For we all know what it is: that cloying heaviness blanketing your every deed and decision. The fear that no matter what you do it will never be enough or good enough. That everything in your children's experience that couldn't pass for a  deleted scene from a Disney movie will scar them for life and is all your fault. No, we’re not crazy. Just moms doing our best, seldom believing it's enough.