Dear Moms,

As I was preparing to get my kids ready for school this year, for weeks now, I kept going back to gratitude. I am so grateful for a number of things, but at the top of my list is always, always, always my children. I’m one of the lucky ones. I have kids. Two of them, in fact. They’re happy, they’re healthy and there is a lot of love in our family. Some yelling and bickering, yes, but that makes us that much more of a family.

I told my husband earlier this summer, jokingly, that if our kids are alive and well at the end of the summer, that he needed to bring me flowers. To celebrate that we made it. Not only did we make it, but we made many memories over the summer months that I won’t soon forget.

I’ve seen my newsfeed explode with pictures of kids on their first day back to school, of Mamas celebrating and cheering, of steaming cups of coffee being drank hot and in blissful silence. Oh yes, I’ve seen it all. And I’ve celebrated and rejoiced. I, too, will be posting pictures of my kids as they head off on their life’s journey.

But, I keep thinking about our Mamas out there who have lost their babies. Those who will never get to experience the joy of the first day of school. Those that have experienced it, but now due to illness, accident or whatever circumstance life (and death) has thrown their way will not experience it again.

To those mothers, I am writing to you. I want you to know that in the celebration of kids off to school there is no disrespect. That we honour you and please know that I will be sending you healing and positive thoughts today. It must be an excruciating day for you. There is NO WAY I can ever understand what you go through, but I can imagine there is such sadness for your loss and anger towards the mothers who are celebrating having no children at home.

As a mother who is celebrating the first day back to school for my kids, it’s not so much about not having them with me, I’m celebrating that they’re growing up and becoming incredible people. I want to celebrate them getting older, learning and spreading their wings (as cliche as that sounds). And I know, I absolutely know, that you would love to be doing the same. I wish I could take your hurt and heartache away for you. But the only thing I can think to do is let you know that I’m here. We’re here. Reach out if you need to.

Please know that many of us, in the trenches of motherhood, take the time to reflect on how lucky we are. We are taking the time that I know you wish you had. I am not sure if this note to you will anger you, comfort you, or honour you, but please know I hope it’s the latter two. Please know I am thinking of you and I wish for you to get through this day with strength.

Forge ahead. You are a warrior. You are strong. You are remembered. You are cared for.

I will celebrate my children. I will post the pictures. I will let their excitement course through my body. And I will honour all of the Mothers out there, those with and without children.

You are ALL in my thoughts and if you ever wonder if we think about how lucky we are to have happy, healthy children, or if you wonder if we ever take the time to reflect on how hard this day is for you, please know we do. Again, we are here in motherhood solidarity. If you need us, reach out.

I will take your hand to my heart and your sorrow on my shoulders and help carry you through this journey if you need me to.

To ALL mothers, I am here. I will continue to respect and honour all of you and all that motherhood has meant and continues to mean to you.

With gratitude and respect,
Lindsay

 

 

 

Framily. No, I didn’t misspell. I meant to write framily. Do you have framily? Maybe you’re not sure what I’m talking about? I don’t blame you, let me explain.

Framily are the people you consider family but are “just” your friends. They’re the people your kids call “Auntie” or “Uncle” even though they have no blood relation. They’re the people you rely on more than anyone else to help support your journey as a mother/father because if you have framily, you most likely don’t have family living close by, or you’re estranged from them.

I am truly blessed to have framily. No, correction, my kids, my husband and I are truly blessed to have framily. Our parents don’t live anywhere near us (they’re provinces away), we don’t have aunties or uncles close by, no brothers or sister, no cousins, not even a distant cousin. It’s really just me, my hubs and our two wicked kids living our lives and getting through.

But family is important to me. It’s important that my kids have Aunts and Uncles they can call on when life gets complicated and they feel like they can’t talk to us. It’s important that they know they have a safe and loving place to go outside of our house. Enter…framily.

I met my framily at a prenatal course 8 years ago. Her name is Jody and his name is Jay. She was MASSIVE (sorry Jods) and beautiful and funny and when I asked if anyone else would like to meet up with me and my ridiculous dog to go for a hike, she was the only one who said “YES!”. So, we waddled our way around Thetis lake week after week, getting bigger and bigger and more uncomfortable with every step. Her son was born 6 days before mine. Our bond was sealed through motherhood and she’s been my best friend ever since.

She is “Auntie Jody” to my kids and “Uncle Jay” is just as amazing and loving.

Why the nostalgia? Yesterday was a big, big , BIG day for my little girl. She got her ears pierced.

I remember getting my ears pierced with my Mama and it was a magical day. She took me for lunch, we went to a movie and then we got our ears pierced. So, when I asked Auntie Jody if she would come and make the day special for Miss P, she was all over it.

There was lunch:

There was shopping.

There were cupcakes:

And then there was the ear piercing.

And the day was that much more special for Miss P for the simple fact that Auntie Jody was there. Life is super busy, so for her to take the time out of her crazy-busy day meant so much to both Miss P and myself. She bought my daughter a beautiful new dress for her first day of school. She bought her a cupcake to celebrate her big day. And she held her hand when she cried because…well…piercing friggin’ HURTS. 

It is moments like this that I am eternally grateful for our framily. They invite us over for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner, because if they didn’t…well, it’d be a quiet dinner and I’d probably just end of crying into my turkey and mashed potatoes. They hug my kids when they know they need it. They celebrate their successes and love them up when they’re scared. They are the family we need when family can’t be here.

So, if you don’t have family near you, I certainly  hope you have framily. AND…if you are lucky enough to have framily, for goodness sake…let them know how grateful you are.

They’ll watch your kids so you and your hubs can go out for an evening. They’ll be your “Emergency Contact” for school. They’ll be your kids sounding board when they’re older because Lord knows, as parents, we just won’t know anything. And, they’ll be the ones who pour you a glass of wine, hold your hand and tell you everything is going to be okay.

So, Auntie Jody and Uncle Jay, you are my framily and I am so grateful for you . We love you both so much. Our family is loved and cherished and included because of you. My kids have other adults they can go to because they know they’re loved by you and you’re a safe place for them. And me, I’m grateful for all of it. The dinners, the wine, the love, the laughter, the memories.

Thank you, framily. You mean more to me than you could ever know.