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One day, you’ll pass through a place, a least-suspecting place. And it’ll occur to you that you’ve lost every piece of you.

You, beautiful you. You who were created with a design in mind. You who were created to breathe, be and bask in beauty. You who were created to live full, real and true. You whose soul was made for more. You, dear you, you lost yourself.

Sit with that.

You lost yourself.

Somewhere along the way, someday became the way. Circumstance turned to circumstance upon circumstance. Come what may became your day, after day, after day.

Come what may.

Come what may.

Come what may.

But come what may didn’t serve you well, did it? Because here you are. Barren. Hollowed out. Nothing but a body walking, talking with nothing inside but come what may. That emptiness, how does it feel? Sit with it, my friend. How does it feel? Do you feel anything anymore?

You’ve done your duty, sacrificed for the greater good, tended and nurtured everything and everyone, lived and loved to the best of your ability. But the question begs to be asked. If you don’t tend to yourself, won’t your soul wither under the weight of coulds, shoulds and should haves? And the Bible says love your neighbor as yourself, but what if you haven’t been loving yourself?

So today I’m asking…

What do you need?

What is it that you need?

Let’s make space for that, for what you NEED.

Take care, my friend.

Take hold.

Take hold of YOU, the YOU that’s more than coulds, shoulds and should haves. The YOU that’s created specially, uniquely, the YOU you know is inside. Take hold of her. Be tender and gentle towards her, the woman who’s still standing after ALL this, ALL that, all the world’s weight upon her shoulders.

Let’s go, now. Let’s search the ruins, explore this least-suspecting place. Let’s gather remnants of you, fill the spaces hollowed by come what may. It’s time for you, my friend. It’s time to harvest the remnants, the bits and pieces, the fabric of you.


Stand and look.

See what you need to see.

Where are you? Do you know where you are anymore?

Where have you been? Where, oh where, have you been?

It’s okay to just stand there and take it in. It’s okay to acknowledge where you are and where you’ve been. Nobody will give you that permission but you. Take it in. Acknowledge it. Claim it. Because you are fierce and strong, and only YOU and God know what YOU know. Only YOU and God know where you’ve been, where you are, where you’re going, indeed. Stand there, my friend. Stand where you need to stand. Stand. There you are. Here you are. Here.

Let’s gather remnants now.

Look over there. Look at the mess. Right there on the table. Everyone got up and left. And there you are with the mess. Just look at it. Look at the way you’ve treated yourself, as if you don’t matter, as if your sole existence is to to take care of everyone’s mess. It’s good to take care of messes, my friend. It’s our call to help others in need. But it’s not our responsibility to manage every mess we encounter. It’s time to start looking at the messes and ask important questions. Is this my mess? Did they leave this mess because they know I’ll clean it up? Am I just good for messes, or am I more than messes? Am I needed in this mess? Should I clean it? Should I leave it? Or would everyone be better served if everyone took part in the cleaning? The questions are endless, my friend. Just stand there. Look at the mess. Look at the pain. Pick up your part. Perhaps it’s time to leave the rest, that bit of a mess, right there on the table. Then remember your remnants, remnants of you left tableside.

Let’s head over here, to the YOU who once was. Look. Just look. This is who you used to be. YOU before come what may. THIS is the YOU you loved, the YOU you embraced, the YOU you saw as beautiful. This is the YOU who had vision, clear vision. This is the place you came back to, the place you found YOU, every time. Is she gone? I don’t think so, my friend. She’s still there, waiting quietly. Come in. Be you. Become you again. Pick up the remnants, put on the garments. Feel beautifully YOU again.

What about there, the place you meandered in and back out as if it didn’t bother you a bit? You’re not sure you belong there, are you? You love that place. It feels like home, a warm and familiar place to rest. But you’re just not sure. Is this home? Or is this a show? Pick up a remnant, my friend. Pick up the one that feels right. If this is your home, let this be your home. If this is your place, your space, your place to BE, then BE. So look around. Pick up that remnant. See what’s yours. Take it. Stay a little longer. Stroll and see what fits. Feel the textures. Linger. Look. Pick things up, put them down if they don’t work. But gather the remnants of you, my friend. Don’t leave without a few. It’s YOU who will lose if you don’t take remnants of YOU where you find them. It’s OTHERS who will suffer if YOU’RE not fully YOU.

This remnant-collecting journey won’t be complete unless we take a take a stroll through baggage, the baggage of whether you deserve all these remnants or not. Do you deserve those remnants, those pieces unique to YOU and only YOU? Do you deserve something FOR you? Do you deserve that thing GOD wants for you? Do you deserve the life God planned for you? Touch the bags. Feel the remnants. Stand there in the beauty. Now I know you hate the word “deserve.” It’s not a good word at all, friend. I know. Most of the time you’re not sure you “deserve” anything at all. But there’s not a word that fits better. Bare with me, dear one. Here’s what I’m saying, the best way I can say it. You have been gifted with grace, the amazing grace of life. Accept the gift. Live the life God’s given you. Just pick it up, my friend. PICK. IT. UP. Pick up the most beautiful remnant you can find. It’s not too expensive for Jesus. He already paid the price. He already said you don’t have to be rich. You don’t have to be the wealthiest woman in the block. In fact, you can’t afford that remnant. So take it. You deserve it, He says. Or maybe not at all. But grace is my gift. To you. Take all the beautiful remnants you can. Find them where you may. Gather them and store them, for the days are long and your future is certain.

We’re walking now, closer and closer to you, the YOU you’d lost, the YOU who’d been emptied, the YOU you’d left behind. Tell me, dear friend. Tell me. Have you gathered a few remnants? Remnants needed? Remnants necessary? Remnants new? Remnants of you?

Bring them. We’re almost here. You’ll need those remnants for the journey. We need you. ALL of you. Let it be said. We. need. you.

Back to the center now. Here we are. You have some remnants, I know you do. Maybe just a few.

Stand there. Still. Just stand and listen.

He’s playing now. Do you hear it? He’s playing your song. You can see it, the way He’s looking at you, the way He’s making eye contact with you, the way He’s following your every move when the world’s pulling at your feet, distracting you, telling you it’s time to go, it’s time to be done with this remnant-finding nonsense.

Don’t be done, my friend. Don’t leave. Stand still despite the pull. You’ve come this far. Don’t stop now. Keep the remnants tucked in your pockets. Keep the remnants stuffed up your sleeves. He’s still watching you. The pain is growing, the pain is welling inside. You’re not done growing. You’re not done collecting remnants. Look. SEE. He’s STILL playing your song. He sees you’re about to burst into tears. He sees those remnants hanging from your pockets, those remnants slipping from your sleeves. He plays. He just plays. He keeps on playing and playing. For you, my love. For you. Keep listening. Keep SEEING Him SEE you. He is playing your song.

You want to run. You want to hide. You don’t want anyone to see the you that’s truly you. “Forget it,” you say to yourself. “This remnant collecting adventure was the stupidest, lamest adventure ever. I don’t need these remnants. The pain is calling, pulling, never-ending. I just need to run. Go. Get out of this place. These remnants? Whatever. They were just pieces of fabric, anyway. Who needs these pieces of me but me, anyway?”

No, He calls.

Stop running.


Come closer.

I see you. I see you across the way.

Stand with your remnants.

Let every fiber of your being, every fiber of those remnants STAND.

Hear the notes.

Listen to your song.

Stand strong when the world is pulling.

Look at my smile. I’m looking at you.

I love you.

Remnants of you.


Something’s come to my attention, moms. Something’s on my heart this Mother’s Day.

Too often, we write ourselves out of our own story.

When our first child was two or three years old, I remember being at my in-law’s house and asking them to watch our son for a couple hours so I could get out and have some time by myself. The outing wasn’t complicated – all I did was go to the mall and meander around for a while – but my memories remain vivid 12-13 years later. I remember feeling completely free as I strolled around the mall that day. Free to be me. Just me. I also remember feeling guilty for feeling so free. After all, I was visiting my in-laws, and wouldn’t it be better for me to be spending time with them since we were there for such a short time? Shouldn’t I want to be with my precious son every waking hour of every waking day? Why was a 2-hour mall outing so important? What did I really have to buy or do there anyway?

The truth is, my default way of thinking and behaving was to write myself out of my story because I’d become a mom. I didn’t want to acknowledge that I needed time for me as a woman, NOT just time for me as a mom. But that day at the mall, I knew it, I could feel it. I needed to write myself back into my own story. I needed to KEEP myself in my story.

Fast forward to the fall of 2012. It was time for our annual photo shoot, so I wanted to secure coordinated clothing for our family of five. I found an outfit for our baby first. A super cute bright yellow sweater with a porcupine on front and a polka dot skirt with striped tights. (Hello, adorable! How cute is that?!) Then came clothes for my oldest daughter. A stunning green sundress with rick rack and a ribbon hair bow to match. Next up, my son. Gap Kids had the perfect plaid button down. Navy blue with tan, pink and yellow accents. Totally boyish but pulled in a bit of flair from the girls. Thankfully, my husband took care of himself. But oops…then there was me, the last person to secure an outfit for our photos. I really needed something nice as I was planning on taking head shots for my website during our family shoot. After all that shopping and searching for the kids, I realized I hadn’t even begun to think about myself. What was I going to wear? I remember searching and searching for something, feeling like I’d never find anything. I had literally forgotten about myself in the process, then when I finally DID remember myself, I had a hard time finding something that fit and represented me as a woman, not just me as a mom. Thank heavens, I have ONE store that fits the bill every time. I had to tell myself it was okay to go there. It was okay to spend a little more than I had planned on myself. It was okay to say YES to myself. This looks beautiful. You deserve to look and feel beautiful in these pictures just as much as the kids.

The truth is, my default way of thinking and behaving was to write myself out of my story because I was a mom. I wasn’t willing to acknowledge that I was a legitimate part of the family as a woman, not JUST because I was the mom. But that day searching for clothes for our family photo shoot, I knew it, I could feel it. I needed to write myself back into my own story. I needed to KEEP myself in my story.

Fast forward to this week. For nearly four months, I’ve been praying a 6-word prayer. Someday, I’ll share that prayer, maybe even in a book. But it’s not time yet. For now, here’s all you need to know. TWO of the words in that six-word prayer are US, as in OUR FAMILY. On Wednesday as I was working out, it occurred to me that I really should ALSO be praying that prayer with the word ME in it. So for the first time ever, I prayed that prayer with the word ME instead of US. Yes, I prayed it BOTH ways, for ME and for US. My gut wanted to feel all kinds of guilt for praying that prayer for ME. But honestly? A bigger part of me wondered how I’d been so blind to have never thought of it until four months in. After all, I was a part of this unfolding story, too. Me, Amy. God has a plan for ME. Why would I not pray for ME in the same way I’ve prayed for US? It sounds self-centered, but some of us need to remember to pray for and tend to ourselves, just as much as we pray for and tend to others.

The truth is, my default way of thinking and behaving has been to write myself out of my story because I’m first and foremost a mom. I haven’t wanted to acknowledge that I need prayer as a woman, NOT just prayer as a mom. But as I prayed for our family and for myself this week, I knew it, I could feel it. I needed to write myself back into my own story. I needed to KEEP myself in my story.

So moms, I just have to ask. How are you writing yourself out of your own story this Mother’s Day? How have you written yourself out of your own story in the past? If you take a moment to really think about it, I bet you’ve written yourself out of your story at least once. More likely? You’ve written yourself out of your story hundreds of times…just like me. We can do better, friends. We are worth it. We are moms, but we are ALSO so much more.

Write yourself back into your story.

Do it for yourself. Do it for the world. Do it so God’s light can shine FULLY through you.

Wonderful you.

Beautiful you.

Just you.

This is a story about motherhood written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Tiffany has shared regular stories on my site since February 2015. The purpose of her writing is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. I’m hoping her stories will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. If you’d like to read the stories I’ve written about Tiffany’s journey and all the stories she’s shared on this site, check out Tiffany’s Story. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.

As a mother, sacrifices are made, but rewards are received.

My independence and freedom as an individual has changed since having two kids. To name just a few, I have sacrificed chill time, sleeping, food, travel and money. Because of these sacrifices, I have become a more well rounded and happy individual. Many times, I spin around in circles, pacing the floor, thinking “what’s next?!” My responsibility as a parent is to keep these kids alive, healthy and happy. Sometimes we do things we don’t necessarily want to do because we are making sacrifices for our kids. To most, the sacrifices we make as mothers are worth it. I have been praised for my parenting skills and how I’m raising my children, but I am terrified almost every day that I’m failing at my lifelong job.

As most of you know, I attempt to manage my mental health issues on a daily basis. Sometimes I just want to give up, run away from life and everything involved with it. Sometimes people can really pull at our hearts and impact the way in which we see life. I was in the waiting room at my psychiatrist’s office, and a friendly guy in a wheelchair passed me. I think he noticed me smiling at him, so he came back to talk. He told me that he was very happy because he recently lost 50 or more pounds. He told me about his mom who has schizophrenia. He proceeded to tell me that she gave him up for adoption because she always thought he was going to die. That mother made a sacrifice because she was doing what she felt was best for her child. He was one happy dude, despite everything he has experienced and is dealing with in life. As mothers, our priorities become what is best for our children. We sacrifice a lot, but always seem to be rewarded in the end.

Let’s talk more about managing the sacrifices we make as mothers.


I used to really enjoy “chill time” with friends and by myself. That chill time does not happen very often anymore. If I want to chill, I find myself needing to find someone to watch the kids. So chill time is more of a dream to me now. Sometimes the kids and I have chiIl time together. I used to have too much chill time to myself back in the days. Now, when my friends and I chill, we usually bring the kids along with us. It’s just not the same as being alone, but the rewards are amazing. My six-year-old daughter has often wished I would be more of a hands-on mother, playing with her. I have found that playing simple games with her, like see how many skittles fall out of the containers, works! I have learned to chill with my kids. I still appreciate the time away from them, when that happens. But I am rewarded with every little kiss, smile, hug and I love you.

Chill Time Advice for Moms: Chill for a while. Just walk away from the mess for a day or two. The mess’ll still be there to take care of at a later time. Take advantage of people who say they want to help out with the kids. Chill time is needed! Breathe when you can.


As a mother, I also sacrifice sleeping time, which kind of goes along with chill time. Before I had children, I would lay in my bed sometimes for days. As mothers, that is no longer an option. The sacrifice I have made by not laying around all day has really helped me emotionally. I am usually productive in some way, each and every day. My kids also have sleeping issues. They started crawling out of their cribs around age 1 1/2, so I was scared of leaving them alone in their room. Now we all usually sleep in the same room. We sleep where we can sleep. I hope to break them of that habit.

Sleep Advice for Moms: Sleep when you can. Make sure the kids are tired out and don’t have sugar or caffeine in them at bedtime. Sleep while they sleep.


As mothers, we often sacrifice food so our children can eat. Sometimes I don’t eat because I want the kids to be fed and happy. I’m not the best cook, nor does our family have a lot of extra money. I often tend to take the easy route and go out for meals when we can, but I try to choose healthy options for my children. We are working on some issues at our house like appropriate foods to eat! We are helped out with food when we are running low. We get food from a place called WIC. They help us with essentials, like milk. I was told at my son’s last check up with WIC that he needed more healthy, calorie-filled foods like avocado. There are also food events around our area for people who want to get large amounts of food for an inexpensive price. At one of those events, a family gets a large box of food for around $15. Another option is the food shelf, which we don’t visit often. The line and the wait time is very long. My mom is a wonderful cook, so she cooks food for my family often, too.

Food Advice for Moms: Look for sales at the grocery store, buy in bulk, and be aware of free and inexpensive food events in your area.


I was fortunate to travel around the country with my family when I was younger. Now I am bound to my children. I can no longer hop in the car and take off because my kids need and deserve consistency. They need me to be present too. That’s what being a good parent is about! Traveling can be expensive and is tough with two kids. Travel time is limited for my family of three, but I’m satisfied with the travel we do for now. A few years ago we went with my parents to Myrtle Beach and stayed there for a couple months. We go to Minneapolis a few times a year, and Duluth is not far away! In town, we have visited the wildlife park, bounce house, play area at the mall, and local parks. Many of the parks around here are full of beauty! My kids really enjoy getting out of the house!

Travel Advice for Moms: Appreciate the sites in your area. We went to our local state park and enjoyed the time a lot. History in the making!


Lack of money is a sacrifice I have made since having children. I now have to budget money in order for us to survive on a weekly basis. I don’t get to shop for what I want all the time, but we survive. We work with the money we have! A number of my friends and I switch clothes once in a while. I also watch what I am spending on a daily basis, including my coffee intake! Going to local coffee shops makes me happy, and I enjoy when the kids come with. I get necessities for my kids right when I get paid. Money is tight, but we get by every month! My kids seem to think I have money to buy them anything they want. I guess that happens in a number of families, no matter how much money they have.

Money Advice for Moms: Budget and know your limits! A little bit of money can go a long way. Look for items on sale and products you can afford.

Despite the sacrifices I make on a daily basis for my children, I would not trade them for the world! I have evolved as a person and now consider myself beneficial to society. Whether you have children or not, we all seem to sacrifice something in order to be rewarded.


My name is Erica. I am a 38-year-old public school art teacher. I have been teaching for over 10 years and love my job. Unlike many mothers with children with disabilities, I have managed to maintain my career. I feel very blessed to work with over 500 students in our town in Minnesota.

I have been married since 2006. My husband, Scott, is an outside sales person for a title company. He is the most amazing father. He has stepped up, when he could have run away. I admire his strength for completely doing this with me day-to-day.

Our only son, Grant, was about 6 when his first serious round of self injury began. He has some level of intellectual disability, autism, and Avoidant Restrictive Feeding Intake Disorder (ArFID) which resulted in a g-tube getting surgically placed in August. Below is just a small piece of my life story. I am writing regularly at and share updates on Facebook at if you would like to read more.

Amy is my friend and neighbor. She was kind enough to let me share my story here today. We are seeking donations for our medical trip. Grant is on a wait list for a hospital in Baltimore, Maryland, called Kennedy Krieger. Please watch the video at the end of this post, and check out my site for more details if you are in a position to help. Thank you.


I was cleaning up my art room, like I always do. Pandora was playing “Fire and Rain” by James Taylor. I know this song really well. I might be able to sing along without the lyrics without them in front of me. Can you hear it now?

” Won’t you look down upon me, Jesus …”

This song triggers a variety of emotions. I sing along. Just in my head. I don’t need someone to walk in my classroom and hear me.

Taylor sings …

“You’ve got to help me make a stand
You’ve just got to see me through another day
My body’s aching and my time is at hand
I won’t make it any other way”

I push the tears back. I want to let them flow at this moment, but I don’t and I won’t. I have let them flow before. I have had deep, ugly cries in the last six months. I have done this in front of my son. I have done it alone. But, I have never let myself cry like this in front of anyone else. This song is triggering this feeling, but I push it down.

I feel regret and anger when I have cried like this in front of Grant. It makes me cry more. My anger builds with every piece of this of this journey. The tears flow easily if he hurts me and I am not talking about emotional pain. I have never had a verbal argument with him. He is not considered “non-verbal,” but he is not functionally conversational either.




He has attacked my hair so many times I can’t count all of the incidences. Even in one day, he has come at me over 20 times. It’s like he is trying to remove chunks of my hair. I am trained in something called “CPI” so I know how to release his hands from head. I have to press on his knuckles. My scalp hurts after he comes after me. After a summer of hair pulls, I eventually sacrifice my long strands for a chin length “do.” I resent him in that moment at the hair salon. I tell myself it’s just hair. It is not me or who I am as a woman. It’s just hair. I eventually purchase hair turbans off of Amazon to protect my poor scalp. Cutting my hair doesn’t prove to be enough to keep him from hurting me.

He has tried to hurt my eyes. This is how it all started. He would push his fingers into my tear ducts. It happened so quickly. It’s hard to explain how anyone can get to your eyes so quickly.

Today he mostly kicks me. He hits me. He has bruised my eye area. He has scratched my skin and, more recently, he has learned how to head butt. This might be the worst new behavior. It comes out of nowhere. I can be putting on his diaper or he can be sitting on my lap. I might lean over to fix something and his head, with a helmet on, comes at my face so quickly. I can’t get out of the way. I bawl.



There was a day where he hit me so hard, I question if there is blood running down my face. I luck out, it’s only mucus. My nose feels broken regardless. It’s hard to hide my emotions. Tears flow easily. I want to hide. I can’t show him how upset I am in these moments.

This head butting issue really irritates me. On Halloween, his head hits my mouth. I thought he had loosened a tooth. I am not sure if he just caused me serious dental issues. I am hysterical. I grasp my face in horror. WHAT DID HE JUST DO!? How can a 9 year old be this violent? He stares at me as tears make my mascara drip black lines down my face. I am flushed. My lip is busted open this time. I have not overreacted. I might have my teeth still, but that was truly painful. I fall to the floor sobbing. He just stares at me. He might have said something like “mommy sad.” Yes, Grant. Sad is only the beginning of the emotions I feel in this moment.

Deep anger fills me. I don’t lash back. But, every cell in my body wants to fight. But, I can’t. There is no point. He doesn’t understand what he is doing. He just sees his mother crying. To him, this is interesting. So he will do it again. I have sealed that destiny with my outward emotions. But, I can’t stop in these times. I am getting hurt. I am hurt. I cry. I am so unbelievably tired of this.

Attacking me…this only a piece of what is happening in my home on a daily basis. Some days are worse. Some are better. I ask myself constantly “What is worse than this?”  I mean, I quite literally in my head run through a game called “What is worse than this situation?” We have to find answers. We have to move forward. I remind myself that we are lucky he is alive. We wait patiently for his turn at the hospital. I’ll do the best I can with each day as it comes. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe. I will hold on to the hope I must keep in my heart for the three of us for a better and easier life.


This is a guest post written by my younger sister, Tiffany, who has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. Tiffany has shared regular guest posts on my blog since February 2015. The purpose of her posts is to raise awareness of what it’s like to live with mental illness. I’m also hoping the posts will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. If you’d like to read the posts I’ve written about Tiffany’s journey and all the guest posts she’s shared on this blog, check out the mental health page. Without further ado, here’s Tiffany.


Being grateful can improve one’s health. As I reflect on the past year, I have so much to be thankful for! I have two kids who I would do anything for, a great support system of professionals, family and friends, the ability to help myself and seeing gains for my efforts. I have found more peace in myself now than I ever have before. To me, Thanksgiving has a new meaning this year. The good, the bad and the rest that doesn’t always make sense. These are all the pieces of my life that I’m thankful for.


My parents were out of town for over three months due to my dad’s lung transplant, but have been back now for a little over two weeks. My dad is home this Thanksgiving. I am grateful that my parents get to spend the holiday with us. My dad had some lung rejection issues, and he ended up in the hospital for ten days right before they came back home. His team of doctors will be checking his antibodies soon to see if the lung rejection is still happening. If his antibodies are bad, he will have to go back to the hospital for further procedures. The transition to them being back home has not necessarily been easy, but we are working on adjusting to accommodations that work for everyone. We are moving forward with my dad’s health with optimism. We are planning for a great future with him around.



I’m thankful that Raegan, my six-year-old daughter, is starting to understand my mental health issues. She likes to show her friends and people who stop by clips from when I was in movies, television shows and commercials in my 20s. I was in the movie Four Christmases. Raegan laughs pretty hard when she sees my hands up in the air in the background. She often asks me what happens when I don’t take my pills. I forgot them one morning, and she asked if I could drive alright without them. I told her that I would be fine, as long as I took them soon. Raegan is reading very well and with great expression. She loves math, her class and her teacher. She is very wise and kind as well. She has her temper tantrum moments. Xander, my two-year-old son, is loving life. He is pretty rambunctious and is an explorer. He is full of questions, loves school (Early Childhood Family Education) and is an extremely kind and loving son. He loves exploring so much that it’s difficult for him to sit still during ECFE reading time. During gym time, he’s been running around pretending he’s a dinosaur. The other kids don’t seem to know what to think. He is proud to call the other kids in the class his friends. My experience with Xander at school has been different because I feel more chill and comfortable about everything. I am thankful for my two children. They keep me going, even when I’d rather isolate myself from the world.


I need a support system to help me discipline and work with my kids. My parents, friends and a team of professionals help me with these issues. I take advice from each and every one of these people to help improve my situation. I am trying to help myself so I can be more independent of some of this help, as I have been over the past few months. I’m working with what I’ve been told, and am starting to figure out a parenting plan that I can do more independently. Now that my parents are home, it’s east to revert to dependence again. But I have gained confidence over the last three months as a parent. I am a parent who can prepare meals, stay organized and help with homework. I am thankful for all that I have been taught about parenting, and I plan on utilizing those skills throughout life.

Overall, I am very satisfied with how far I have come as a single parent. I am grateful for all of the wonderful people in my life, and am happy my mom and dad are now home, at least for now. My kids, support system, my ability to help myself and peoples’ responses to my gains have guided me towards more independence in life and with my children. I hope that over the years I become more confident in my myself and my skills. Every day is a new journey!


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