Moments are memories.

The moments.

They come and go.

I catch myself smiling and don't recognize that girl.

I catch myself crying and she looks more familiar.

I look in the mirror - and I look away.

Ah, who am I kidding? I look at my cell phone. I take the pictures. I watch as the smile on my face has shifted. It just isn't there the way it used to be.

I still smile.

I still laugh.

I have a 7-year-old daughter. Laughter is required. It's a means of survival. And it's the way life goes. When she smiles, G-d, the whole room lights up.

Is that how you felt about me?

It's how I felt about you.

I miss your smile so freaking much.

I see it in my dreams sometimes. Or I want to. I see you. But you're not smiling. You're just sort of there. I can't even explain what that's like. To wake up and eventually remember that I saw you. But now you're gone.

It hurts.

I'm raw.

So many people losing loved ones around me. I don't really know what to say. Except I can now say I know. I know. I know but I don't want to.

I don't want to know what it's like to say goodbye to my father.

I don't want to want your arms around me enveloping me in a huge hug and have to know it's not going to happen.

I don't want the only smile I'll ever see to be in photographs.

I want you. YOUR smile. In my face.

Your voice in my ear.

Your heart against mine.

I want your hand in mine. Playing with my fingers. Thumb-wrestling.

Holding onto my knee.

You're supposed to be waking up my daughter with her hair. Tickling her nose like you did mine. I do it. I do the things you did. I feel you - you're there - reminding me. Showing me.

I hear you in my mind.

But it's not nearly enough.

Where has your voice gone? How can I get it back?

I miss you, Daddy.

I love you. Forever and always.

I hope that you're somewhere, out there on the water, in the great vastness of blue that makes up this world we exist in. And I hope that you're riding the waves and feeling the sun.

And I hope that you're smiling.

* I'm linking up today with Shell over at Pour Your Heart Out. I'm a day behind, but she's awesome and doesn't care about stuff like that. 

Amazing Reads. The 3/2 Edition.

Good morning, friends. How's everyone doing?

This is me this morning. As in right now.

 I'm feeling a cold. I'm sipping on hot tea. I've got water and Zicam-like tablets in front of me, at the ready. And I'm catching up on my reading.

My head is crazy clogged and I need a suction of sorts done on my sinuses.

But I'm here for you. Isn't that amazing of me? * hahahah. I'm funny, aren't I?

Anyway - an hour or so later - and I'm back. Didja miss me?

Here are a few of the incredible things I read this week. Or this morning. Or both.

Jordana Horn wrote this post about the internal bullies we all have. We moms do, anyway. These bullies pick on us because we're not wearing the bodies of our 20-something year old selves. Usually I wouldn't link over to a site like TodayMoms, because I figure everyone reads them, right? But when it's a friend - and it's THIS good? - I give you Quieting the bully within: Struggling to love my mom body.

Oddly, I had that post open for a while. As a reminder. And then yesterday I came across this post, titled Love Letter to my Body, and I finally read it just now. And I wanted to cry. It's beautiful. I've only just met (virtually) Taylor Brione, but I have a feeling she and I would get along really well if we actually met.

This post title over at Domain of the Mad Mommy caught my eye: Autism-tastic. My heart hurt for this exhausted mama, who clearly feels the eyes of judgment on her way too often. So many of us do. Why is it so hard to just support our fellow mom? Just give them that knowing look - whether we know it exactly as they do or not - and smile, gently? I don't have a child with autism, but I can feel the exhaustion that's there, and I think many people can relate. I'm the one who tries to hold the door open for the mom with the stroller and the child pulling her in the opposite direction while screaming his/her little head off.

And so, there you have it, a small batch this week. I'm tired. A few hours have passed since I started writing this and I need to reheat my tea. Or make myself some chai. Yes. That should do it.

In the meantime, while I listen to a random recording of Red Solo Cup, here's a flashback of my own for you to read: What I need to remember ... an important read as I see the spring approaching on Mama Nature's horizon. Summer will be here soon!

And, if you haven't yet, check out my I'm only human post from this past week. I think you'll be happy you read it, because it's highly likely that YOU'RE only human, too.

Sailing out of Darkness, Normandie Fischer ~ book review

Sailing out of Darkness took me traveling beyond my expectations. Normandie Fischer has a way of writing that made me feel like I was moving through time with her characters as they went from place to place. The transitions between scenes, the way that we were in Sam's mind, or were watching her ... all of these were fluid and strong.

I should probably start somewhere else, since when we first meet Sam she's home. She's living her life post-divorce and fallen into a relationship with an old friend that isn't good for her. He's not. The relationship's not. The friend's "ex" is definitely NOT. She needs an escape, and plans one. That's when we truly get to know Sam.

She heads to Italy!

And oh, how I wanted to be there with her.

The scenes where Sam finds herself alone in Italy? Some of my favorites. The way she drank it all in, absorbed the culture, the language, the food and drink - have I mentioned I wanted to be there with her yet? Fischer's exploration of a woman experiencing a new world and way of life in a foreign country totally made me want to take a trip overseas.

But Sam wasn't alone for the whole time. She connected with her daughter for part of the visit, she made a random friend along the way as she traveled from city to city, and then she finally met Tootie's uncle. (By the way, I totally love Tootie and want her to have her own book soon ... just a note to the author.)

When Sam met Teo we can immediately feel the connection between them. We enjoy the coincidences that bring them together, but we also find ourselves feeling that there are no coincidences. Sorry, maybe that's an NCIS reference ... but sometimes it just seems so true and this story is no exception.

Something else I liked is that we first meet Teo separately. Away from Sam. We're able to get a feel for him, get to know him on his own. Before we see him through Sam's eyes. And yet, we know. We anticipate what's to come. We feel their connection before they've even met. Fischer does a wonderful job of setting up their relationship, whatever it may turn into, in these early scenes.

And you may have guessed that this book is also about sailing. I learned that our author spends a lot of time on the water. I could definitely feel that from the content. And I truly enjoyed those scenes. As a boat person I can relate to the way it feels to be out on the water with the wind in your hair, even though we don't have sails. There's little like watching the sun set on the water when you're out there with it. The colors. The smells. The way it makes you feel. I could appreciate all of that through Samantha.

If you've read my reviews before you know I'm not one to give too much away. I prefer to let you decide if you want to pick up the book and hope you'll let the story unravel for you by itself. I try to give you just enough info to show you whether or not I enjoyed the read and leave the rest to you.

Sailing out of Darkness was an enjoyable read. There's a lot more to the story after Italy. Sam's not quite-ex and his not-quite-ex have their own storyline at some point. I'll be honest, I didn't really want those scenes when they were happening. I found myself frustrated and ready to skim to get back to Sam. Ultimately I get why they were there. They had a little bit of mystery that I read into pretty quickly, and I did keep reading to be sure I found out if my guess was right. I'm not going to tell you that, either, though.

The stories do come together. Sam returns home eventually. I kind of wanted her to stay in Italy, but that's not realistic. I mean, it's a book, so it doesn't have to be realistic, but when you're reading something and you feel you know the characters in the story well enough, you know when it would be completely out of character for them to do something like pick up and stay in Italy forever. And that would have been the case for Sam.

Okay, I'd better stop before I give away too much. Let me know if you pick up a copy for yourself. I'd love to hear what you think. I can be the person you talk to while you're reading so you have someone to share your guesses with.

Happy reading!

* I received a copy of this book from TLC Book Tours to facilitate my review. I was not compensated for this review and all opinions are strictly my own. *

I'm only human.

Sometimes I feel like a hot mess as a blogger. I'm sitting here w. my cup of coffee (which is turning cold quickly) and jumping from FB group to FB group, I'm trying to get my job-job notes done from yesterday and realized I'm behind on another book review. 

My calendar has notes scribbled all over it. I use pen. It just LOOKS nicer. 

Pencil is great and all, but pen, pen makes it permanent. 

Yes. I use a pen and paper calendar. In today's electronic world. Don't be fooled. Many of the bloggers you admire do it. They're kickin' it old school without you even knowing. 

Ssshhh. It's okay. You can do it, too. I won't tell anyone. 

It's interesting that I started this off saying I feel like a hot mess as a blogger. Because sometimes I just feel like a hot mess as a person. Or a mom. Or just me. Andrea. The hot mess. 

I've got girl scout cookie coordinating wrapping up and I'm done. Spent. And have to buy about 500 bags or boxes for myself. Okay, fine, not really, but anyone need some Caramel Delites? Those are Samoas for anyone living outside of my baker's area. I've got 'em. $3.50/box. Gluten free girl scout cookies? Got those, too. Please save me and take them off my hands. Otherwise I'll be eating them all. Dang it. I do mean ALL. $5/bag. Yes, more money. But they're gluten-free. What can ya do, right? 

I need a massage. I almost went for reflexology this past weekend but then I called and the guy said, can you come after four PM? And I was like, yeah, probably not. But I should have. And I didn't. It's okay. I'll take another hot shower. 

And I haven't worked out since I went to karate with my daughter and the Sensei kicked my butt. Seriously. I'm quite possibly STILL sore. I did CRUNCHES, people. It felt awesome. But CRUNCHES. Holy cow. And I had to partner with him. It was kind of awesome, because had I partnered with my 7-yo I probably would have slacked some. 

Seven. She's seven. Holy cow. 

This morning Bruno Mars was making me weepy-ish. I don't know why, he just was. And thankfully Postpartum Progress came to my rescue. (How many times can I possibly type that word and use the "y" key instead of the "u"? Several. Let's leave it at that.) Anyway, the rescue was with a Warrior Mom playlist on Spotify. It's been pretty awesome so far, despite a few weepy lyrics. 

Did I tell you I'm going to see Bruno Mars when he comes to the Triangle? Well, I am. Totally. And that's what made me download his music. It's really good. I bought my ticket after his halftime show. Good stuff. I'm hoping this will be another summer of concerts. I need those nights. They're awesome. 

Okay, I've decided it's my keyboard cover that's giving me problems here. I keep having issues with the letters y and t and the u. So yeah, must be bunching up or something. 

Back to blogging - can you tell this is a total ramble of a post? - anyway, I'm honored and excited to announce that I'm participating in the 2014 Shot@Life Champions Summit. Shot@Life is a program that works hard to spread the word about the importance of protecting the children of the world, ensuring that they're taken care of and given an opportunity for the best possible health. Best possible life. It's pretty awesome. I'm excited and nervous and thinking that, whoa, this is a totally different kind of conference than any I've ever been to and I have to actually dress nicely and professionally and I hope my old work pants still fit. 

But I'm human. If they don't I'll dig up a skirt and some leggings (it's in DC, in March, I'm not expecting true spring just yet) and make an outfit out of it. I can do it. 

I'm pretty inspired by having been accepted to participate in this summit. Quite often I feel as though I'm a baby blogger. Even though I've been blogging since 2009. YES. 2009. My goodness, I'm coming up on my FIFTH anniversary. Whoa. 

But then I realize and recognize that if I don't put myself out there I won't get anywhere. 

And so I apply for campaigns. Some I get. Some I don't. Honestly, most I don't. 

But I continue to put myself out there. I volunteer like CRAZY. 

If I listed the places I volunteer for you'd fall over. Honest. I always have been this way. My life in North Carolina has consisted of volunteer work from pretty much the moment I landed. Actually, before. I swear it. Crazy? Maybe. But true. 

And it is who I am. 

And some days I don't want to get out of bed but I do because I have to get my child up and at 'em and out the door. And so I do. 

But sometimes I want to curl back under the covers when she and my husband leave. But I don't. Or I do. But mostly I don't. I just keep going. 

Maybe I'm not making mega-money by blogging, but maybe that's alright with me. Maybe I find that putting myself out there is enough - sometimes. It's enough for me, for now. I write because I love to write. And writing this, today? It's a reminder. 

For me. And for you. 

That I'm human. You're human. 

That amazing blogger who writes for Babble or BabyCenter or the local newspaper or website and actually gets PAID? She's human, too. 

She might have the mornings where she wants to crawl back into bed. Maybe she doesn't ever wear make-up, either. Or maybe she does because she has to, it is who she is. 

But we're the same. We're people. We do best by supporting one another, but sometimes we don't have it in us as we're struggling to just make it through each day. And that's okay, too. 

Facebook makes that easy, right? A simple like may be taking the place of real communication, but sometimes, on the days we're sitting behind our screens with tears in our eyes, ratty hair and are still in our pajamas as our coffee gets cold (who, me?) we can click that like and remind our friends we're out there. And we support them. 

Even if our words just escape us. Or we've used them all up for the work we've had to do. 

Because, hey, we're only human. 

Don't forget it. 

Now, go reheat that coffee. You've got stuff to do. 

Dance with me!

Yesterday my daughter had her first school dance.

Not the kind of will you dance with me kind of dance we all remember loathing so much.

But the kind where parents attended and it was actually okay that they danced.

Ehem. WE danced.

I might have to admit that I danced more than my daughter did. My seven-year-old daughter. Have I mentioned yet that she's seven now? Probably not. I hold off on that sort of stuff these days.

Sometimes I look at her and see that face that's still the baby I held in my arms.

And then she puts scarves on us both and asks for her fancy shoes (with a request for high heels, but we're not there yet) and is ready to go to the "ball" at her school.

But then we get there and she's running around and sliding across the floor and laughing and crying over a ridiculous little plastic ball-pit type of ball.

It's amazing how she changes in the blink of an eye. Literally.

I know - that word - using that word - she's not really CHANGING as I blink my eyes. But at the dance? One blink meant she went from dancing next to me, all fancy-ish to running around like a little girl playing.  It was as close to literal as possible, so I'm going with it.

Anyway, it was so much fun. I lost track of what I was saying because I am sitting here listening to Pitbull and dancing in my chair. Honest. Dancing. In. My. Chair.

And this morning my daughter was singing about "$20 in my pocket ..." so it's all good.

Isn't it?

Because sometimes you just have to put the rest of your life on hold and DANCE.

Enjoy it. Feel it. Listen to the music. Sing along. Whatever it takes.

Just dance. Do it.

Even if you're sitting in your chair. It's all good.

Dance with me?*

*It's a video with the lyrics and no half-naked Ke$ha, promise. I needed it to be safe for my kiddo to watch with me when I show it to her later!



p.s. I'm linking up today with Tanya for her Small Victories Sunday link-up! Come on over and join me there.