This blog began with a biographical post titled Who is Brooke, but it is a generic gathering of words. It certainly does not get to the heart of who I am, and I strongly believe that when you know an author that you have a deeper understanding of their words and the meaning behind them. I write with a purpose, or at least I try to, I hope that my words unite people either because they relate to what I am saying, or simply because it is a funny tale that brings a smile to their face. I know that I haven’t written a post on this blog to make you laugh yet, but my daily interactions with these four boys could give me a lifetime of fodder by just relating the anecdotes of being their mother. Yesterday was the tenth birthday of my second son, and it was a full day of me running behind, chasing my tail. Presents to wrap, Balloons to inflate, Decorations to put up, and a trip to the store to buy a cake and cookies for his class. As I went through the grocery store line, I must have presented that harried image because the clerk asked how I was with an actual concerned tone, that made me answer with the truth, “I am rushed as it is my son’s birthday and I need to get these cookies to the school before his class ends.” She looked up at me, and said, “At least you aren’t having to bake too.” It was salt on an open wound, because I was already dealing with the “guilty mom heart” of how I wished that I could bake a cake worthy of his birthday. I am a decent cook, but baking is not my forte. I was also feeling bad that I wasn’t delivering cupcakes but cookies to his class, but with 36 kids to feed, cookies were a better option. The day continued without further incident, and my little one was happy as he thanked me for his birthday and said it was a great day. I laid in bed that night thinking over the events of the afternoon, and realized that I made everything a bigger deal in my mind than it needed to be, which we tend to do as women. Gabriel didn’t care about his cake, as long as he had one. He would have been happy even if I did bake a cake, that was frosted atop the 9×11 pan, and the cookies were a hit, probably because they weren’t the stereotypical cupcakes. As mother’s, and people, in general, we need to give ourselves a break, and not make things so complicated; and that is the Girl behind the Words. I stress, over think, run late, can’t bake, or cook from a box, but I can cook a meal with 20 ingredients from a cookbook, and then wonder why my kids ask for pizza. I take the road less traveled, but I am learning to be proud of it and am actually starting to really enjoy the adventure. If nothing else, I will have a story to tell when sitting in a retirement home wondering when my boys will come to visit.
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