A Tribute to Superwoman

Can you describe her? What do you think you know? Can you explain her to me? Give it a try, if only for me to tell you that you're wrong. Let me tell you what you don't know.

Did you know her favorite animal is a tortoise? That she has an affinity for cantaloupe and strange exercise videos?

I bet you didn't know that, until recently, she thought Adam Levine had a rat tattooed on his arm, and still loved him anyway.

And it's such a shame that you haven't experienced her late night ramblings, that never fail to leave you laughing and crying in equal measure.

I doubt that you would know what a great listener she is and that she can give as good as she gets on the sarcasm front.

Would you guess that she has mad tap dancing skills and can river dance like a true Irish woman?
Probably not.

Now let me tell you what you DO know.

You know that she's there for you rain or shine, hospital bed or wheelchair.

I'm pretty sure you could never forget how she'll watch "crappy chick flick" movies with you, because she knows you like them, even though she can't stand them.

And although you know that every time you ask her what she wants to do she'll say, "I'm good with anything." you keep asking her anyway.

Even though you pretend to be upset, you're okay with the fact that your family loves her almost as much as they love you.

You understand the sacrifices she made to do what she loves, and you cried with her when she ended up sacrificing what she loved for what she needed.

And most importantly, you know how lucky you are to be able to claim Superwoman as your friend.

So hats off to you, Superwoman, a round of applause, a standing ovation for the girl who everyone wishes they knew a little bit better than they do.  

Beaches, BaBas, and Bubble Beards

This summer I learned how to be a child again. There is something to be said of the simplicity of childhood. When your only care is whether you have rice or pasta for dinner. When you can imagine whole worlds and interact with dolls like they are real people in the confines of your bedroom. 

I got to spend this summer with the some of the sweetest kids on the planet. They helped me remember the simple pleasures in life and to enjoy the moment.

Some of my favorite quotes of the summer include:
"Maddie do you know what having patience means? 'Cause you're not being very patient with me right now."
"I'm being such a laffy taffy right now I can't stop!"
"I need a TOWOOL!" (towel)
"Whenever I do what frozen things do in..." "SUMMER!"
(Asking for a kiss) "Bear, what do mommys want?" "Coke?"
"D13, Like Devo-13, Like my name!"
"Watch ost? Ost!"
"Did you know that the word 'energy' sounds just like the letters N-R-G?"
"Sister Sharp! When'd your baby chunk out?" (Ya'll)
"I'm a little tired I kinda want to take a nap." "Or you could pretend that you already took a nap and come play with me."
"I wuv my Maddie."


One of the most extraordinary things about little kids is that they are completely and 100% honest. They haven't learned how to be deceiving or manipulative. They wear their hearts on their sleeves and can spot fake people in an instant. So you know that when a child says that they love you, they mean it.

                                                                                                 
                                                         I learned to look outside myself. 

  I rediscovered the simple joys of life. 

Things like rocking a baby to sleep, 

And walking along the beach holding a sandy little hand. 

Things like dressing up as princesses, 

And making beards out of bubbles.

Things like pouring hundreds of babas

And braiding Elsa hair.

Things like butterfly gummies, 

And plastic nail polish.

Things like slobbery kisses,

   And making cotton candy cookies,
Things like Disney World,

   And the tooth fairy,
 Things like falling asleep with a baby on your chest,

  And searching for three hours to find a yellow ball.

Truth be told, I miss smelling like baby formula. I miss changing diapers and I even miss getting thrown up on. I left a piece of my heart in Florida with those sweet babies. I needed this summer to learn and to grow, to settle down and refocus. I will be forever grateful for the chance I had to spend a summer with the Sharp family.

Talking to the Moon

Sometimes when I'm lonely I talk to the moon. 

I tell her my deepest desires and secrets. I tell her the little mundane things I did that day like what I had for dinner. Sometimes our discussions are deep and philosophical, and other times they're silly and I fall asleep laughing. 

She's a good friend, a constant companion, because no matter wherever you are in the world you can always find her. Even if you can't see her you know she's there, stuck orbiting the earth until the sun explodes and sucks us all into oblivion. 

You know your secrets are safe with her. Who would she tell? 

She is a quiet friend. She doesn't give advice or criticize.  She doesn't tell you that you're wrong to think that way or that you sound crazy. 

But there are times, every so often, that while I'm talking to her I realize that I'm just talking to a rock in space. A cold piece of space matter that reflects the sun's light because it carries none of its own. And when I snap back to real life, I feel lonelier than when I started conversing with a rock. 

The Contents of my Pocket

My pocket ripped today. 

The seams burst as if they had had enough, and they couldn't hold on any longer. 

One at a time they slowly let go of each other emptying the entire contents of my pocket on to the floor. 

Out flew the crumpled up homework pages, 

the 17 cents that had been jingling for too long. 

Out crawled the bent paper clips, 

and forgotten notes. 

Out strutted the broken pencils, 

and faded doodles.  

Out sprung the tangled headphones pulling with them the battered bobby pins. 

Out flounced a plastic princess ring 

followed by some stale M&M's 

Out shimmied a blue ball point pen

and an orange sticky note  

Then finally with a thud and a crash 

Out fell my broken watch that had stopped working years ago 

I could get the pocket stitched up. 

I could get it mended. 

I could put everything right back where it was before. 

But I don't think I will. 

I'll keep that hole on the side of my jacket. 

Gaping wide, 

swinging open, 

exposed, 

vulnerable,

Until I find something worth keeping in it again.   

On The Sidelines

I find myself sitting on the sidelines, watching as the game of life is played out before me. Players of all shapes and sizes. All playing the game a little differently.

 Some seem lost and confused not sure what game they have stumbled into, just following and imitating the other people around them. Clueless, but not wanting to show it. Wanting to win this game but not even sure what or how they're supposed to be playing.

Others are more direct. Sprinting across the field knowing exactly how to play, and thinking that they have the best strategy and skill set to win. They are forceful and ruthless, demanding the attention of every spectator and player on the field.

There are some who take their time with the game. Drawing it out. Stopping to feel the breeze and pick the wild flowers that border the field. They play the game when they feel up to it, but most of the time they'd rather be on an adventure off somewhere else.

Then there's me. I long to be a part of this game just like everyone else.

"Put me in coach! I won't mess up this time, I promise!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep Campbell! I'll put you in when you're ready."

But will I ever be ready? Is anyone ever ready to be thrust into this confusing and disappointing game? A game that no one can truly win?

I see coach eyeing me. Then with a nod he gestures for me to join the game.

I panic. The earlier complaints, and annoyance is gone. I can't join this game. I don't even know who I am yet. I can't just fend for myself out there along with the rest of the world. I still need practice and coaching. I'm too small, too insecure, too empty to contribute to this game. I'll be trampled and left behind.

Coach is getting impatient and I know that if I don't go now, I may never get the chance again.  I will not spend the rest of my life on the sidelines. I will play this game in my own way, on my own terms. I square my shoulders and with false confidence walk to the edge of the field.

Something deep inside me twists and begins to bloom as I take a deep breath and  sprint into the game, never once looking back. But if I did I would see the imprints of my shoes still visible in the grass on the sidelines.

The kind of sad that just takes time

“She wasn't bitter. She was sad, though. But it was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time.”-Perks of Being a Wallflower 

"The kind of sad that just takes time." 

Eight words

One sentence

It reminds you that it's okay to be sad. 

Seasons of sadness come and go. 

Some are so fleeting that we don't even notice them.

Others stay a while to remind us to be happy and hopeful. 

Throughout my life I have come to understand this quote. This principle of sadness has become a part of me. It has taught me that being sad isn't a bad thing. Just don't lose hope, because a hopeful kind of sad is the kind that shapes us and makes us better than what we were before.