A Letter to My Ten Year Old Girl

Dear Daughter,

Wow. Ten whole beautiful years of loving you. Of being your Mama. Of watching you grow and learn and live and love. You and I, dear girl, are quite the pair. God knew I needed you, more than I ever could have fathomed. When I learned I was pregnant with you, I had a seven month old baby napping upstairs. I cried because I couldn’t believe it…I cried because I didn’t feel ready. But the moment I found out that little baby on the ultrasound screen was a baby girl, everything started making sense. I. needed. you.

Sure you make me want to pull my hair out at times—your stubborn willful self is an awful lot like mine. But even after you and I may have a disagreement, I always know we will be okay. You’ve been a Mama’s Girl since the day you were born, and still today, at ten years old, you are. You’ll go to bed earlier if it means “Mom can tuck you in.” If it means Mom can lie with you, read, pray, tickle your back and listen to a song while holding your hand. Right now, you still feel you “need” that. And I can’t help but wonder how long that will last? “She won’t always like me…” I’ve said to myself.

Moms and daughters, Reese, often struggle. Maybe it’s when daughters start really coming into their own self and begin to have strong differing opinions or thoughts than their moms? Maybe it’s when daughters decide that their moms know nothing and just ‘don’t understand?’ I don’t think there is a magic age and perhaps I will be entirely wrong, but I keep expecting us to struggle. I guess even if you don’t have months or years where you just don’t want to be ‘close’ to me, I do know that we WILL struggle. But guess what? When we do, I will still need you. And I hope you will still need me.

I spent most of my life racing. By racing I mean wishing for the next thing—I wished to grow UP from a young age, and in many ways, as a kid I did grow up pretty fast. I think being the youngest sibling to a brother with severe special needs can do that. I couldn’t wait to drive, to finish high school. I couldn’t wait for college to move to Kentucky and to begin pursuing my dreams. I wished and I wished and I wished. Then God surprised me with YOU, and then time started to actually fly by. I found myself wishing for more of it…for it to slow down…for it to STOP even, like it could have a pause button, and I could freeze exactly where my kids were at in certain different moments. But we can’t do that, can we, Sis? Time is fleeting and I have said that from the very beginning of YOUR time.

You are so excited to be double digits. And you should be! You’re officially a “pre-teen” now and while I may not feel ready, YOU definitely are and regardless, it’s happening. If there is one thing I wish I could help you do though…it would be to try to stay present in the time you are in. Where ARE you right NOW? Let me tell you, dear girl.

You are perfectly, positively, YOU. You are such your own little person, with your own thoughts and personality and character and charm. You’re not me, or your dad, or your brother, or your friends—you are YOU and I pray you continue to love that little girl inside of you. You love deeply and have the gifts of empathy and compassion. This is your last year at the school your dad works at, 5th grade—recently it dawned on you that after this year, he will be “alone” at school, and you cried for him. Your heart is as big as the ocean, sweet girl.

You’re artistic and creative. You are genuinely funny and make me laugh out loud. You LOVE to dance and make videos. You’re discovering the world of makeup and flared jeans and skincare routines. I’ve worked hard to not display negativity around you when it comes to getting ready, or when trying on clothes. I know you are already sometimes struggling with looks and appearance and ‘what will people think…’ and I have taught you to remember the little girl inside of you. How would you talk to her? Would you be mean or hurtful or unkind? Of course not!! So I hope and pray DAILY that you will love yourself WELL. That you will find gentleness inside for the girl on the outside. Life is hard, Baby girl. But I hope you don’t yet know or realize HOW hard it is.

I look back at pictures, memories from Facebook, and I can’t help but beam. You are very much the same girl that you were when you were 6 months old, 12 months old, 2 years old, 4 years old, and beyond. You’ve been our WOO GIRL from the very beginning—an ER doctor actually was the one to describe you as that! When the sedation couldn’t really make you drowsy when they were going to stitch up your forehead as a toddler, the doctor exclaimed, “Boy you have a real woo girl on your hands!” One of my friends said she can see you being a CEO one day. You are strong. Determined. A go getter. And I don’t ever see that changing.

You might be mad at me for writing this next part, but I just have to. This space has been very much like an ‘online journal’ to me for many, many years. Recently you told your dad that you had seen a boy you had a crush on, in passing at school. You were so giddy about it and cute. You said the boy had nodded at you and smiled. Dad said, “How did that make you feel?” You replied, “My insides got all warm and fuzzy!!!” Oh Reese Elisabeth…I’m not ready for the seasons with boys. For the worries and wonders that will automatically come with that. But it’s okay—we aren’t there quite yet. When we ARE there, I hope you know that I am always here. You can ask me ANYthing, ANY time. I hope as you grow older, that you don’t shy away from your parents advice, and that you won’t ever, ever feel you have to hide. In all of your emotions, wonders, worries, and hormones, I AM HERE.

Last but not least, Brené Brown wrote, “We have to be women we want our daughters to be.” Elisabeth, you have seen first hand that I am far from perfect. I pray and hope so much though, that through my career of loving and teaching kids of all ages, mentoring young girls, coaching young girls, working incredibly hard in horse ownership and a photography business—I hope and pray that you see a woman you are proud of. I hope you see a woman who loves Jesus and who has trusted HIM with her whole life. Who though has been diagnosed with a serious medical condition, STILL chooses to trust and depend on Him. I hope you see a woman who loves her family and would do anything for them. A wife who has been head over heels with her husband for over fifteen years now! And I don’t want you to be ME, sweet girl, because I fully believe one day, you are going far surpass whatever ounce of greatness I may have.

Happy 10th Birthday, dear Daughter. I love you more than this post or any number of words could relay. Thank you for being mine, thank you for being such a friend and for needing me and truly loving me all of these TEN years.

Love,

Mama

When You Doubt Yourself, Read This

One of those days I guess. Where my mind spins and I think 150 different and unique thoughts, most of them not really connected or intertwined with one another…if you’ve had a day like that, and you can maybe relate, read on, friend. You may want a cup of tea or coffee though, because it’s been a minute since I’ve written like this and it may be a while…

The summer is winding down. Well, not the heat, but the days until school is back in session. Trust me, its been over 100-degrees heat index wise for days and there’s not really an end in sight with that. But I can feel the end of our season drawing near.

I find myself wondering,

“Have I done enough?” “Were my kids happy?” “Will they remember this summer as a memorable one?” “Was I patient enough?” “Loving enough?” “Silly enough?” “Bold enough?”

Was I enough?

And then I shifted to wondering about former students. A giant chapter of my life is coming to a close, or has closed rather I suppose, as I accepted a brand new job in my teaching position for the coming school year. I worked with psychiatric and troubled youth for TEN years…it feels like so long, yet not long enough. Every year it never failed that I had repeat students. Sometimes I had them in their elementary years when I taught K-5th grades, and then they would come back to me as middle or high schoolers. Those were the really tough ones emotionally for me…

One in particular, a boy, I had in both fourth and fifth grade. I remember how much he made me LAUGH and how he helped around the classroom. He was so bright and really intelligent academically. Socially too—witty, charming, just an all around great kid. Flash forward to him entering the halls and bumping into me as a then 8th grader. I exclaimed his name with a giant smile and bear hugged him. [Bear hugs are frowned upon I guess in the teaching world, especially in a psychiatric facility, boundaries ya know?] But when you have my [then] job and a familiar face shows back up, one who made YOUR days brighter and happier, you kind of sigh a sigh of relief knowing (or hoping) that student will be similar even though he’s older now.

He remembered my name and smiled and I was bummed he wouldn’t be in my classroom because I didn’t teach middle school, I had been teaching high school the past three years. Then he showed up on my roster and BAM, there he was, at my doorway, in a class with high schoolers, and I shook my head in disbelief. Where I worked made changes, OFTEN. You HAD to go with the flow, practice extreme flexibility, and be able to just roll with the punches. So the whole last half of the school year I DID teach middle school, AND high school. And it was fine and I loved it and I maintained great classroom management and behavior…and yet I left wondering…

Did I do enough?

I watched that child go through a Richter scale of emotions. I watched him find hope and comfort, and I watched his talents SOAR. Then I watched as his world fell apart. The goofy, class clown boy I knew and loved did a 180 and began to doubt the whole world around him. Several nights I found myself crying, wishing and praying that I could do MORE. I wanted to be able to scoop him up [okay yes, he’s bigger than me now, that wouldn’t be possible AND it would be weird], but I wanted to be able to show him normalcy and kindness and take him to basketball games and show him how a loving family COULD be. How a family COULD protect and love and walk WITH him through the hardships. He was able to leave, I said my goodbyes, told him about my new job, and I prayed to God I would maybe see him on the outside one day.

Did I do enough?

That’s one of the reasons I decided to take a leap and part ways with that job placement. It was so hard to be able to foster impacting relationships with kids. Once they left the program, that was it. And I get it—that’s the job and I knew that. My heart has been longing for more, to be able to build relationships not strictly within the classroom, but out as well. With students’ families and their communities, to be able to walk with them longer than a few days or weeks, or in that students’s case, months…

See? There’s my brain tonight. I typically feel like I want to save the world: kids’ lives, everywhere, MY kids’ lives, and often that feels like a very big task. On the flip side, I know the answer to these questions. I hope you don’t read this thinking that I honestly doubt myself THAT much, or that I have felt inferior. I know my own children are happy. In between their bickering there are so many moments and memories FULL of love and laughter. And I know that in the classrooms that I taught in, I was often the reason students also laughed and felt loved. I very rarely forgot students names with their faces. Even when it had been years between seeing them, I remembered. Most of their lives are very hard, very broken, and for some I fear what the years ahead will do to them…but I pray I left an impact on them deep down.

For now? I have 16 days left of summer break. Sixteen days left to invest wholeheartedly every day, ALL day, with our children. I’ll have a fourth and fifth grader come this school year and that BAFFLES me. After this summer, I’ll be working in a program (school) for teen mamas and pregnant teens and while I’m very nervous for change, I am also very excited to invest in these young women. If you too, have been wondering, “Am I enough? Did I DO enough?” I guarantee your answer is yes.

Sometimes it takes some time to sit back and reflect on what YOUR life has looked like. If you’re a verbal or anecdotal processor like me, jot some things down in a notebook or journal. Think about this summer, and instead of dwelling just about the times you lost your patience and snapped at your kids [trust me, it HAS happened a LOT over here….] try to remember the surprise snow cone trips you’ve made, the sleepovers you’ve let your kids have, the late night movies, the extra treats and bags of popcorn, the fireflies caught in the backyard, the time spent with family.

You were enough.
You have done enough.
You ARE enough.

A Letter to My Ten Year Old Son

Ten years of you, my dear boy. Ten glorious, beautiful, BLESSED, years with you. I am so thankful the Lord trusted us to be YOURS. At 11:11am on 6/15/12, you were born into this big, scary, ever changing world. 

I was thinking, what have I learned in these ten years of being your mama? Well, the first is that time is fragile. You can’t stop it, or catch it, or hold it with your fingers. It slips through our fingers and truthfully, the cliche saying, “The days are long but the years are so fast,” couldn’t be more true for how I feel. 

Double digits. Wow, that is YOU, today. You are tall. Your long legs are so lean and strong. You love to play sports and have a new interest in soccer, which has been fun to watch. You are incredibly smart, and I can so see you being a savvy engineer one day. Maybe not. Maybe you’ll be a teacher. Or a doctor. Or a scientist. Maybe you’ll be a college athlete. Time will tell. And as I said, we already know that will feel like all too soon. 

The world needs you, Pierson Clive. You are a wonderful, brave, adventurous little boy that is going to change so many lives. You’ve changed mine, sweet boy. Oh how you have changed mine. 

In just ten more years, you will be twenty. Will you still be at home? Living with me and Dad? Going to a local college, maybe U of L? Again, time will tell. I can’t think about how there may be only “eight more summers” that you spend with me at home. My mind will explode and my heart will surely shatter. Instead I will be so thankful for what I do have with you—the time, the laughter, the memories, the hugs, the still nightly back tickles and you asking me to sing a bedtime song. 

The world is work, Pierson. There may be an easy route, a simpler path, but that doesn’t always make it right. I pray that you have work ethic, and grit. That you realize how sweet success is when you have put a little sweat into it. But beyond the physical work, my son, the world is full of emotional work as well. I pray that you will love dearly every version of you. I also pray that you will know and love and cling to Jesus. In every part of your life. That you will trust Him with the answers, and you will always seek Him first. In the good times and the bad, happy and sad…I promise He is walking with you.

Oh how you will change these next few months, these next years. Be quirky, goofy, curious, and believe in yourself even when others do not. And know this, whatever phase and stage you are in, your dad and I and SO MANY PEOPLE, believe in you. 

We love you. All ten years of you. The ups and downs, the funny and everything in between. I hope you look back on these ten years and smile. Knowing that we have loved every single second with YOU.

Happy 10th birthday, Pierson. Mama loves you so dang much.

When Fighting Doesn't HAVE to Ruin Date Night

When you are out with friends as a married couple, the LAST thing you want to happen is a fight between the two of you. I mean, no one sets out on a night away, planning to laugh and be carefree and to thoroughly enjoy being just the two of you again—and then ruining it with an argument. And I’ve written a blog post before about ‘When You Ruin Date Night,’ but this time I want to flip that scenario.

What if you fight, while on a date with friends, and even though there is still tension and some big feelings, the night doesn’t get RUINED?

This past time, it was 100% Asa’s fault. And he will be perfectly fine with me stating that. We were going out to celebrate a couple of his co-workers graduations from college and their masters program and I was so happy for them! Asa had already in his mind decided that the night was going to be just PERFECT and that I would be the cut loose and giggly / outgoing / extroverted version of myself. Well the truth is, that side of me is VERY few and far between. Thirty-four year old Ashley tends to be more quiet, more introspected, HAPPY still, just not loud or completely carefree. I tend to quietly people watch. Listen. And take the moments in as they come. We had an overnight sitter for the kids, there was zero reason we needed to have an early night in, but I had warned Asa that the later it got, the more I wanted to just get HOME. At one point I literally said, “I want to go home, wash my face, put on my charcoal mask, get in pajamas, and cuddle the dogs.” [Did I mention thirty-four year old me may be super lame??]

He kept asking me if I was okay. Repeatedly. We parked the car at our next destination on Fourth Street and I kept saying, “I’m fine.” In the PAST, me saying, “I’m fine,” didn’t always really mean that I was fine. Even in the 2019 blog post I wrote about ruining date night there’s a paragraph there about how I get quiet and shut down and stop talking when I’m angry or upset. But I wasn’t upset that evening. I wasn’t angry! And I’ve been on a low dose anxiety med for quite some time now and I swear the one thing it does for me is that it simply REGULATES me and my feelings [aka its’ JOB.] I wasn’t feeling overly adventurous or outgoing that night on this date, but I promise you I really was 100% FINE. I was content, I was happy, I was having a good time. Did I want to be in pajamas cuddling my Golden Retrievers? YEP. But I was also FINE being out with my husband.

Things escalated and he wasn’t taking my word for it. He got quite angry and exclaimed, “Well I’m not sure how we’re going to finish this night? I’ll feel like an idiot if I go in there and I’ll feel like an idiot if we just leave.” I clapped my hands together and said, “OR, Asa, we GO INSIDE and we tell the TRUTH that YEAH, we had a fight. YEAH we had a disagreement. YEAH we are frustrated with each other now, but we WILL BE OKAY.”

Everyone there was married [except one] and I was POSITIVE they would understand. Why would we abruptly leave the date and why would we just ACT like everything was hunky dory?? [You see, I wasn’t mad BEFORE this moment in the car. I really was FINE. But the more he pressed and questioned my ‘fineness’ the angrier I felt myself getting. So yeah, I was real annoyed.] It is OKAY for married people to fight. It is OKAY to admit to those in your circle around you that you ARE fighting or were fighting.

We were able to move on, move forward, and get over the silliness—WITHOUT ruining date night.

In 2019 I said,

Asa and I strive to continue having an exceptional marriage, and I am forever thankful for the patient and loving man that he is.

and on this day in 2022 I still believe every word of that sentence. Daily we strive for an exceptional marriage. I also strive to be exceptionally honest. I will always go back in my mind to the Hollis’ and their 100% dishonesty with their fans and listeners. I listened to their podcast often, where they bragged about loving to make out with one another and that they were each other’s best friends, that their marriage was strong and incredible…and then one day, Jen wrote this publicly:

"We have worked endlessly over the last three years to make this work and have come to the conclusion that it is healthier and more respectful for us to choose this as the end of our journey as a married couple.”

THREE YEARS?! Endlessly working on their marriage?? But not ONE podcast about the difficulties and struggles and fights and REALNESS about marriage. Nah, friends. I want to forever be real with you. Asa and I do NOT fight very often, I am incredibly thankful for that. But we still DO fight. Sometimes it happens on date nights, sometimes it happens in our home, sometimes it happens in Target. IT HAPPENS.

I want to end this post with a simple challenge to you, don’t strive for perfection. Strive instead to be with someone who is okay to fight with you and who can take ownership for it at the same time. Who can face friends and people and humbly carry on with the evening. Who isn’t trying to save face or have a public image that LOOKS perfect. But one who fights with you but yet loves you, chooses you, and grows from mistakes.