Opened my eyes

Recently tumbling in my newest obsession, I came across this.  By accident really. My attention was initially focused on reading this. Becky's stories about her precious blonde beauty E have been added to the list of 'things I read daily.' It centers around her and her husband and her little bundle of adorableness. Her writing is honest and humorous and educational for first time moms. I'm not, nor am I anywhere close to being a first time mom but none-the-less, I find comfort in her words. I dream of being my future husbands best friend. I can't wait to be a wife. To take a new name. To have a cold ring occupy my left hand. I want to build a home together. When the day comes that I hold my own creation in my arms, I want to remember the days I read about the lives of others and longed to be in their shoes. I want to remember just how badly I wanted it all. I want to make sure I appreciate that day more than I ever imagined my heart could appreciate. I want to bring that new part of us to a home that my best friend and I made a reality. I want to watch the fluttering eyes of my little miracle in the dimness of the hallway light, while brushed up against the other half of my creation. I want my heart to burst with gratitude when I open my eyes each morning. I am eager for the 'butterfly kisses' fluttering in my tummy while I draw in my final breaths of the day.

I want to look back at this day-- and this day and this day-- and reflect on how far I've come. The sacrifices, struggles, tears and the heartache but more importantly, I want to taste the happiness, the excitement, feel the warm hugs and the pure, genuine love of my family and the family I have yet to meet.  I want to remember every moment that leads me to that night. I want to live every, single moment until that very night.

I get it. I sound just like every twenty something-year-old sorority girl who fantasizes over the day her daddy walks her down the isle at the wedding of her dreams. No. It's not like that. That's not where I'm going with this.

Normal day, normal reads. I was here when Becky posted this about little Nella's breathtaking birth story. Being the 'mommy blog junkie' that I am, it was like a little elf jumped on my index finger and forced me to click that link without even consulting my brain. Wherever that little outside force is, I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my being.

I'd suggest to anyone who asks (and even to those who don't) to visit the blog of this lovely lady who may, or may not have opened my eyes to life. Not a new life, not a better life or even a different life, just life. I vow to soak in every sunny day and to splurge on fresh flowers for my bedroom. Toss my plans into the wind and just drive. Swim in the gulf; in my clothes if I don't have a swimsuit. Be a better friend & celebrate others big moments and tiny occasions alike. Strive to walk closer to the Lord and lessen the 'stranger gap' between acquaintances. Deeply and sincerely love each individual for who & what they are, not what I want them to be.

I hate being cliche, I  simply won't do it. I am different. I'm not like every other girl. I'm just not. I have to learn to be vulnerable & this is where I dump my feels and spill my guts. There are times my fingers insist on typing things my heart feels but my head is too stubborn to admit. It's the fear of being cliche. I live in the same small little beach town as Kelle & Lainey & Nella. We share the same white, sandy beaches, drive the same roads and sit in traffic with the same wrinkly snowbirdies & there is more of a chance than not, that's all we'll ever share. It may not be in the plans for us to ever cross path. That's ok. Here we go. My fingers and heart are ganging up on my head and forcing me to admit this. These three amazing, genuine, loving women have opened my eyes to the world. To life. I don't even know them but they have changed me. They have each changed me for the better.

& I will leave it at that...for now.