Look, I know that’s tempting. I dropped the F-bomb at the kiddy park today when my dog pulled over my stroller and later mom-handled a isntshetoooldforthis tantrum from my four-year-old. In that moment, I remembered how my friend used to use a fake name at the bar, and considered that that might be a good idea for me at the park. Hello, I’m Veronica and these are my kids Kevin, Stuart, Jenny, and Britney. You will not find us on Facebook. Please forget we ever met, kthanksbye.

On my walk home, I remembered for the thousandth time that the only people I want in my life are the ones who take me as I am. I am a mom who has five months of hair grow out, enjoys long walks alone at Trader Joes, and swears when startled. That is who I am. I am also madly in love with my kids and husband, I’m a loyal friend, and I’m passionate about social justice issues.

If someone doesn’t accept you with your flaws, they don’t deserve your gifts either.

The mom-koolaid is the idea that we have to have it together, and it’s a load of toddler poop (toddler poop comes second only to dog poop in grossness amiright?). Connection requires that we keep it real, and honestly, motherhood has required that I keep it more real than ever before.

Being a mom has pulled out all the gold in my heart, and it has pulled out all the crap too. I thought I was patient-ish until I became a mom. If someone had ever recorded my husband and I’s middle of the night feeding conversations, you’d know what I mean. It was really precious.

Motherhood accentuates our flaws and it enlarges our hearts 1000x its original size at the same time. It IS MESSY, it is exhausting, and you need people who GET IT and GET YOU more than ever.

I think there is so much shame attached to our flaws as parents because it matters so much to us. I’ve never wanted to be good at anything more than I want to be good at being my kids’ mom. I want to stay connected to their precious hearts forever. The facts are though, I make mistakes daily. I struggle with being the best I can be while shaking off the mom guilt that sometimes grips my heart.

My current struggle is with how distracted I am through the day. I’m distracted with my phone, distracted with my work, distracted with the fact that I’m pretty sure my butt is getting big. This struggle is exactly that though, it’s a struggle. It’s a wrestling with wanting to be the best I can be, while also loving myself how I am (just like I want my kids to love themselves how they are).

Motherhood is wonderful, it’s beautiful, it’s messy as hell, and it has the potential to be a very lonely job.

Don’t drink the mom-Koolaid. NO ONE has it all together. I PROMISE.

You have nothing to prove.

If you are around people that make you feel like you’ve got to pretend to fit in, either stop pretending and see what happens, or find new friends.

You are worth it exactly as you are today, and if you don’t have any one else to say this, let me say it:

I see you in your mess and your flaws and YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

Your kids love you more than you think.

Your tribe is out there, I promise.

***

For more like this you can follow me here, on Facebook, and on Instagram.

JOIN THE WONDEROAK SISTERHOOD

Shop Sister I Am With You shirts here

Sister, I am with you is a message of solidarity between moms and women. It says I AM FOR you no matter what.

10% of proceeds will go to Women for Women International to support and empower women in areas of conflict and war.

ALSO, join Wonderoak Tribe on Facebook.

As a new mom I felt very, very alone. I was also newly married, so I tried to make my husband into my girlfriend. He was a terrible girlfriend. First: When I had an emotionally crazy day, he was scared of me. Second: He does not like drama. He can hash out all of life’s problems in under 30 seconds. Third: He makes fun of all TV shows. Fourth: He doesn’t even like junk food.

I wanted to hash out life’s problems over a two-three hour glass of wine. I needed to verbally process the fact that my son’s diaper poop-sploded all over my grocery-filled shopping cart. I needed to laugh until I cried about rediculous topics. I needed to talk about the feeling that I was losing myself in motherhood and didn’t know who I was anymore.

For me, some things just don’t heal unless I can talk, be heard, cry, laugh, and be encouraged. Also, they don’t heal without junk food.

My husband is my best friend, but he’s not that best friend.

Somewhere along the line I woke up and realized that unless I wanted to kidnap the door-to-door Hoover saleslady and make her eat chocolate with me, I was going to have to go out and find my tribe.

Over the years, this is what I’ve learned:

Not unlike House Hunters, sometimes you just have to go out and find your people. You have to go to the coffee shop, go to that book study, or strike up a conversation at the park. It is like scouting for a Hollywood production company, except you don’t pay people to be your friend.

When you get a vibe you like, make the first move. I was terrified of 98% of my friends before I got to know them. I was terrified of rejection and that we wouldn’t find anything to talk about. I was terrified because they were probably perfect.

I was wrong.

DON’T OVER THINK IT. This is the dating period; you aren’t signing a blood oath of best-friendship. Keep it simple; invite them to the beach, or over for drinks…you won’t regret it.

*If you do regret it, pat yourself on the back for being brave and try again.

Be real. As you feel comfortable, start talking about the real stuff. Talk about the bad attitude you had when you woke up that morning or the fact that you forgot your kid’s school performance. Talk about your saggy boobs (that’s my go-to) or don’t change out of your hideous, but beloved sweat pants, and leave some dishes in the sink.

In my opinion, this is the true test of friendship. My closest friends passed this test, and at this stage of my life they are truly the only kind of friends I have time for. If I can’t be my authentic, messy self then I will have to pass, and the same goes for them. If they keep up a facade of perfection, I’ll also have to pass.

True friendship is about knowing and being known. It’s about being loved and accepted as you are.

It’s about being shipwrecked together.

Keep making the time. Friendship takes investment. It takes making time even though you don’t have any.  I recently listened to a podcast talking about how moms often sacrifice taking care of themselves…and one of the first things to go is friendship.

Nothing can replace time invested. It is hard to carve it out of the chaos, but the payoff is sanity. The payoff is roots that grow deep and friends who love you when your hair smells like wet dog.

The pay off is that your roots start to grow deep. They grow deep through miscarriages, through anxiety, and through sickness. They grow through rainbow babies. They grow through healing and celebration and triumph. They grow through hundreds of glasses of wine and hundreds of cups of coffee. They grow through hundreds of playdates, early morning walks, and late night texts.

There’s no substitute for time.

We all want to belong. None of us want to be marooned without our people.

My friend YOU ARE WORTH IT. You are worth the very best of friends exactly as you are today. No masks, no pretending, just you as you are.

There are millions of women in the trenches who get it, we just have to find eachother.

XOXOX,

Jess

For more like this you can follow me here, on Facebook, and Instagram :).

I sat across from you today. You are struggling, you are tired.

As looked into her eyes I recognized the exhaustion and the fear. I recognized the question, the one that asks am I going to be okay? I remembered a dark season in my life. I remembered when I was so undone with anxiety that I couldn’t take the kids to the beach or even make it out of the house.

I remembered when I had no hope.

I remembered a friend who showed up every single day on my doorstep. She’d ask, “What are you afraid of today?” I’d tell her and she’d listen. She’d really listen…that was the gift. When I’d run all out of words I would sit shaking on my porch trying to feel the sun that beat down all around me, but never touched my skin.

Then she would say, “You are okay, your kids are okay. This is just fear and anxiety,” and I would cry until all the tears were gone.

And the next day she’d be back, because I’d already forgotten the truth.

Sometimes we need truth holders in our lives because our grip is not strong enough.

Sometimes we need to stand with each other until the sun comes up.

Right now, you are low. Right now you feel like a fragmented version of yourself. It’s okay to fall apart. When you are low, others are high. When you are broken, others are okay.

We have all been undone. We have all been undone, and then we get put back together piece by piece, and when we find someone else who is suffering we understand deeper and wider. We can hold space for them because we get it.

So friend, I take your hand, like she took mine, because we will walk through this together. There have been so many times in the past I’ve watched friends suffer from a distance because I wasn’t sure what to say, and I was afraid of making it worse. I made their pain about me, and I still cringe when I think about it. I wish that I’d showed up. I wish I’d been brave.

I’m done letting my fear keep me from staying close.

I will not do it perfectly; in fact, sometimes I might do it awkwardly and terribly. I will probably say the wrong thing. I will probably make you mad.

I’m okay with that now.

I will listen to you until you’re all out of words. I will listen, and I will listen, and then I will take your hand because you are not alone.

I will take your hand because you are going to be okay.

Whatever you do, do not forget that there are songs still left to sing. There are joyful moments coming around the corner that will take your breath away. This, my friend, feels like everything. It feels all consuming and that hope won’t ever come, but it’s not true…

The sun will come up.

You will laugh again. You will laugh so hard that your stomach aches and tears spill out. I promise. Things will be funny again.

You will have moments again when you hold your kids and your heart breaks into a million pieces, because your love is fuller and more overwhelming than you ever knew it could be.

Those are the moments that it is worth hanging on for. They are the moments that are worth more than a thousand years of everything.

Someday, you will be past this and you will look back and thank God that you’re on this side of the storm, and then you will thank yourself because it turns out you are stronger than you knew.

Joy is coming. It can’t resist you. You can’t resist it. Even when everything is so dark and dingy and hopeless, hang on, because it will come.

For now, when you can’t hope, I will hope for you.

When you can’t see, I will see for you.

And one day soon you will feel the sun again on your own.

Love,

Your Friend

***

For more like this you can follow me here on Wonderoak, like my page on Facebook, and follow Wonderoak Blog on Instagram!

So far everyone is suffering and wearing weird clothes to school, because I’m not there to control their fashion decisions. My kindergartner wore pink leggings and cutoff jean shorts to her school Christmas program. I snuck in a few minutes late from work and scanned the kids on stage. When my eyes fell on Oaklee, I burst out laughing. There she was, surrounded by red and white dresses and tiny bow ties. My husband waited in great anticipation for my reaction. Our eyes met when I slid into the seat next to him. He grinned and nodded proudly. “Yeah I did…” he whispered, giving me a big wink.

He is the worst stay at home mom ever.

I find it kind of attractive.

Watching her sing “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem” dressed like Daisy from the Dukes of Hazard was the therapy I never knew I needed.

And probably it was everybody else’s therapy too, because it is always nice to know that even though you forgot to sign the reading log, someone else thought it was the Fourth of July.

Sometimes we work because we have to. Sometimes we work because we want to. Sometimes we are SAHMs because we have to. Sometimes we are because we want to. There are so many difficult decisions to make as parents and no one carries that burden like we do. We are all forging ahead like blind tour guides hoping we chose the right trail and that no one gets head lice.

When I was a brand new mom a friend who was experienced told me, “Don’t worry so much about the “right” way. Love your kids well and follow your heart. They will all be okay.”

And I was all, “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Tell me the right way right now before I SCREW EVERYONE UP.

The more I parent though, the more I realize she was right. There is no “exactly perfect” way to do motherhood. There is a million and one ways to do it, and do it well.  My prayer is that my kids grow up confident and compassionate. That they grow up into hard workers, strong leaders, and generous givers. That they grow up knowing that they are loved, and knowing how to love. The other stuff?

It’s just pink leggings and cutoff jean shorts.

I am a working mom right now and we are all going to be okay.

Soon we are taking a trip and I will be a traveling mom, and we are all going to be okay.

I may find myself a stay at home mom again soon, and we are all going to be okay.

That voice that says I’m not enough? That I’m failing, and I’m disappointing my kids? The one that says I shouldn’t be working, or staying at home, or taking a moment to get my nails done? The voice that says every one else is more patient, and perfect, and wonderful, and makes homemade cookies, and has clean kitchens?

That voice is a liar.

Whatever kind of mom you are today. Whether you are a a working mom, a stay at home mom, a together mom, a falling apart mom,  a tired mom, a happy mom, a single mom, if I could, I would take your hand and say, “Carry on Mama, your kids adore you. Especially that one biting your shoulder and screaming. I can tell.”

We need each other.

For more like this you can follow me here on Wonderoak, like my page on Facebook, and follow Wonderoak Blog on Instagram! Photo credit belongs to the hubs @grahamsjohnston.

Wifey (with wine in hand), “I hope our kids get my eyes.”

Husband, “Whaaaat? What’s wrong with my eyes?”

Wifey, realizing the error of her ways overcompensated with slightly buzzed enthusiasm, “Nothing, I love your eyes! I just, you know, well, your eyes are hooded and mine are not.”

“What? What the hell are hooded eyes?”

They had officially captured all of our attention by then. This was going to be GREAT.

“Well yes, just, you know they’re hooded, but I love them so much….”

This went on for like two hours. We silently passed around the oreos and wine. None of us were sure what hooded eyes were, but it sounded very sexual.

Finally, flustered and perplexed as to how she might dig herself out of the hooded eye pit that she has created, she flung her hand towards me in a desperate gesture, “JESS. JESS has hooded eyes!”

She seemed to think that this was her mic drop moment.

“What?!” I shrieked in shock. Then I took another bite of cookie. I felt strangely honored and also a little disturbed.

A girl needs her girls, if for nothing else than to keep it real. You just don’t know you have hooded eyes unless someone points that out to you. #wrongmakeuptutorials.

***

This is just one of the many reasons I travel in a pack. I am simply not lone wolf material.

1. Because I have issues.

My friend tells that I’m being defensive, and so I defensively tell her that I AM NOT. She is maybe right. (I am working on that).

2. Because they tell me things other people are scared to tell me.

They say that I’m not allowed to use bath towels as hand towels any more. That is disgusting. They do not want to dry their hands on my naked body anymore.

One friend suggests regularly that I get a subscription to wine glasses since he is tired of drinking out of jars and plastic sippy cups at my house. Notes from friends are very helpful.

3. Because disgusting moments are meant for sharing.

There are some things that are just not Facebook appropriate. When I don’t want to horrify the world with my children’s grossness, I horrify my friends instead. It just feels better to be traumatized together.

4. Because we learn each others quirks and it is funny.

Like one of my friends tells me “no” about everything when she is tired. I say, the party is on Tuesday, she says, “No, it’s not.” The party IS on Tuesday, she is just too exhausted to agree with me.

5. Because we make each other better.

My friend didn’t drink coffee. So I found highly slanted coffee propaganda and sent it to her until she decided (for her health, and the good of humankind) she should probably start. Now she feels alive as opposed to dead in the morning. I am very happy for her.

6. Because  it’s good to have REALLY different people in my life.

My one friend grocery shops on Craigslist. It’s like the health-food-underground. When I’m with her we have to stop and grab chickens and pears off of people’s back porches. It is very healthy, and a little sketchy. My other friend is highly introverted and prefers being at home alone so she doesn’t have to wear any pants.

I like Costco, and I think being alone is like slowly dying. However, they rub some of their healthy-introvertedness on me, and I sometimes eat kale while reading books in the bath tub. I am better because of them.

7. We help each other accomplish our dreams.

My one friend was obsessed with skinny dipping this summer. If I was sick she would insist that if we skinny dipped it would get better. If I had a bad day, she wanted to skinny dip. Constantly she wanted to skinny dip. Finally we had a girl’s night for the sole purpose of making her dream come true. Except, she decided that it was the one day out of 365 days that naked swimming didn’t work for her. She hid under her blankets, proclaiming she was already asleep. But sisters don’t let sisters let go of their dreams.

And she was right. Skinny dipping fixes everything.

***

Laughing hysterically at myself and also at my friends is one of my best links to sanity.

There’s something better than being perfect…it’s being messy and flawed (with hooded eyes) and still loved exactly like that.

you’re ENOUGH my friend.

For tips on how to find your next besties, check out this article I wrote for Mother.ly What do stat at home moms need? Friends.

Cheers. We are in this together.

I sometimes have bouts with anxiety. Occasionally that means full on meltdowns with scary, immobilizing thoughts and the world spinning without me. It means leaving the beach because I can’t stop crying and shaking. Other times it’s just little whispers in the back of my mind.

What I have learned about living fearlessly, is that it has nothing to do with how I feel. Anxiety tells me to STOP, to give up and to hide. And sometimes I do. But for me, the best way to tell anxiety to eff-off is by putting one foot in front of the other and to keep.on.moving. Living bravely is about choices.

I feel the same way about connection.

I am convinced that TRUE friendship and connection are THE most important things we can acquire on this planet. I also believe that the only way to find the real-deal is by CHOOSING to show up. Not just partly, but all the way. Choosing (not feeling) worthiness looks like pursuing friendships and being real.

I’ve always valued honesty, but several years ago I started getting more intentional with my truth-telling. I started sharing with old and new friends what I was really going through to see what they’d do. When they asked “How was your day?”, instead of a generic “Good”, I’d say things like, “Bad. I had the worst attitude about everything. I was so grumpy, and then I felt terrible that I was grumpy, so I became grumpier.” Or, “I was a complete stress case today about nothing. I was stressed about cheerios on the carpet and wearing pants.”

I talked about the things that were actually bothering me, instead of burying them.

I wasn’t sure how it would go, but it turned out to be a win-win. I guess they had crap to share too. They seemed glad that I was a safe-crap-place. We laughed at our idiocy together and felt each other’s pain. When I see Mount Kilimanjaro of laundry on my friend’s couch, I only feel very glad that we are couch-twinsies. Emotional laundry is the exact same thing.

One of my friends shared with me about her struggle with anxiety. She told me of throwing up she was so scared, and how she felt frozen with despair. I didn’t struggle with it as much then, but her bravery and openness brought us closer.

Five years after that I had one of the darkest times of anxiety I’d ever had. Every day I’d wake up with what felt like 100 pounds on my chest. I couldn’t connect to real life and the shaking would start early in the morning. Every week day for a month this friend showed up on my doorstep. She sat with me and said, “Okay, lay it on me, what are you afraid of today?”  I spilled out all my crazy embarrassing thoughts that I knew sounded nuts. I wondered aloud if I needed to go the ER or maybe to the mental hospital instead.

She’d look at me in the eyes and say,”You are not dying. ALL this is is anxiety. That is it. It will not stay.” I would cry until the tension in my chest would start to lift.

Not only is openness healing for you, but it creates a safe place for others to be open too.

Friends, we need each other. Live bravely today. Live shamelessly. There are people that will take your invitation. Not only will you find belonging, but most likely you’ll give the gift of it to someone else.

I heard recently that neither the darkness nor the light in the world give a crap about your past. One strives to steal your future, the other calls you to it. The best way you can lose the grip of shame is by sharing your stories and having someone receive you with open arms. Real friendship and belonging are birthed out of relaxing in our own skins and knowing we are safe and loved.

My friend, YOU ARE WORTHY and YOU ARE BRAVE. The world needs you just as you are.

***

For more like this, you can follow me here or on my Facebook page WONDEROAK Blog!