tomorrows sunshine

For the sake of memories. For the sake of being able to scream, and daily, confess the love for the blessings of being a mom.

For as long as I can remember, I wasn’t a celebrated child. I didn’t have birthday parties, every year, nor had one because I meant a lot to someone. I had a couple that i recall; for the sake of photos that’ll eventually find its way to my adopted father, elsewhere in the world. I wasn’t treasured, the way you treasure someone, with tangible memories like photographs, or letters, or daily blogs of confessions about how much they are loved and cared for.

I wasn’t fussed over. I wasn’t valued. I wasn’t worth enough, for anyone to claim me. I wasn’t enough, for someone to ‘keep’ me. No one cried for me. No one hurt for me. No one would have given their life for me, the way you do when you love someone so much.

Because of this…

I am one of those individuals, who flood your Facebook news feed, instagram, twitter, and tumblr, of photographs, status’, notes, and shared articles about my children; about having children; about being a mom; about the struggle of being a parent; about the chaos of marriage, and everything in between. I AM THAT INDIVIDUAL, because I want to be able to look back at the memories I’ve built with my family. I want my children to be able to find these memories when they’ve grown, and one day they’ll wonder what, who, how, why, they are who they are. It isn’t merely for the sake of bombarding others, or attempting to show I’m better than anyone, or that my family values are better than yours. I do this for me. I do this for the legacy of my family . I do this so that my children will remember to value what is most important in our family, each other. I do this so that they remember what it means to fight for those you love, to always give heart, to always be humble, to find meaning in real life, and so much more.

One day my children will have questions. One day they’ll wonder about all sorts, one day these memories will become reminders, it may bring us together when time is distant, or when our minds have found heart elsewhere. It will rekindle deeper appreciation for one another when that is lost or forgotten, it may be a light that helps redefine relationships in each of our lives, maybe it’ll help recall values, or find comfort, bring smiles, provide happy tears, but one thing for certain, it will always bind us together, always and forever.


xo, MM


Repost from Tumblr – December 23, 2015

Just a phase?

Picky Eaters. Every mom’s worst nightmare. 

Apollo has always been a picky eater, since he started eating solids. He wasn’t one for the baby puree’d foods. He hated them, didn’t care for them, and spent most of his toddler years drinking bottles, and bottles of milk. His meals consisted of +plain white rice w. butter +plain pasta w. butter (eventually moving on to plain pastas w. white cheese) +plain white rice w. corned beef +nuggets & fries +mac and cheese. 


These are the same types of foods he lives by these days. 

I’ve spent the last two and a half hours conflicted, and feeling guilty for the grief we both felt about his confessions during tonight’s dinner. Dinner was cheese pizza for him (ordered-in). He’s recently been participating in ‘Pizza Day’ at school, in happiness, although it’s just cheese pizza, it’s once a month I don’t have to worry about his lunch. One day in the month, I can sleep an extra five minutes, once a month, I don’t have to scratch my head, trying to figure out what to send him to school. After-all, it is just cheese pizza he asks for. 

Tonight, he struggled to eat a tiny slice of cheese pizza. As if, he really doesn’t care for them. I wondered, why he struggled to eat this pizza, when he asks me every-time that form comes home, if I can spare him that four dollars for his lunch. Every time, I say ‘of course’. It’s become automatic after a few times, I’d sign that form, and ziplock four dollars with it. 

Well.. That ‘struggle’ to finish a slice of cheese pizza, brought him to tell the truth about what really happens, to his half a bagel w. cream cheese he gets for lunch, and the many yummy snacks (one per recess), I make sure to have for him. 

The truth is.. he throws them out, almost every day. I was furious. His dad was furious. I mean, that’s money wasted, time wasted, food wasted. Above all, he’s starving at the end of the day, and I’m thinking why. I send him with more food, than what a six year old can actually eat. But having more, just means options. Well for the last term, up till now.. he comes home with an empty lunch box except for whatever tupperware I’ve sent him with. 


What was I supposed to say? How was I supposed to react?

There were tears, there were upset feelings. He was sent to bed before seventhirty. Earlier today, I reminisced on old videos of him, when time only held its moments for him. An only child, with all of mom, and dad’s time. 

I miss him being so small. I’m conflicted of my feelings to teach him ‘what’s right’, and how he’s growing so quickly, he’ll figure it all out for himself before I know it. 

Parenting is so hard!

Signing off, 
A Very Sad Mom.

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