That One Time I Broke My Daughter's Heart

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We went to Babies R Us the other night…and unintentionally broke our daughter’s heart. (Side note: do any of you remember when I completely crushed and traumatized my son a few Christmas’ ago? Oi!)

We only went to hand over our expired infant car seat. Whether we replace it there or not is immaterial. Just knowing it isn’t sitting in my basement or a landfill is enough for me. Really, though, we had no other drive to go. This is our third baby. There are no baby showers or excited inquirers requesting a registration. Amazon allows me to quickly peruse my options for the things we need to buy or replace. This world isn’t new to us. No. There’s been no reason to spend hours scouring the aisles of a baby store like we did with our first.

It’s a very different, albeit just as beautiful, experience welcoming a third child into the world.

We intended to go straight to Babies R Us. It was our priority. However, an emergency preschool potty break had us making our Target run first. Then we had another emergency potty break after leaving Target. At that point, we decided supper was a great idea to keep everyone going. So at bedtime, we finally made it to our originally intended destination.

Throughout the evening, Miss Harper kept asking us where we were going. “Babies R Us,” I told her. “It’s a place where you get things for babies.”

Harper’s face lit up hopefully. “Baby...store?” she said. “Yes!” I replied, proud that her still limited but growing speech put the two words together. “The baby store!”

Her excitement didn’t surprise me. This girl is obsessed with everything baby. She speaks to, hugs, and kisses my stomach; tries to shove food in my belly button; and pokes my stomach before seriously ordering Moglett to, “Go!” I’m pretty sure she is going to be my little mama. When she repeatedly asked throughout the evening when we were going to the "baby store," I didn't think much of it.

The baby store ended up being a good time. We picked out an outfit for coming home from the hospital. Harper and Matt test drove carseat/stroller combinations. We even took time to see if the small selection of bassinets had anything that would work well for putting Moglett in our bedroom for those first few months (SIDs reduction, suggestion #4). It's that or new beds for the older kids so we can swipe the crib/toddler bed from Harper...while fulfilling our year old promise to get Jake bunk beds.

After an hour, we bought the going home outfit and a small hat. We wheeled both exhausted kids out of the store in a shopping cart. As we pulled up to the car, Harper started crying. Her sadness was palpable. It was more than being out past bedtime.

“What’s wrong, Harper?” I asked.

She looked up at me with sad, tear-filled eyes and a quivering lower lip. “Baby?” she asked, pointing at the store.

My eyes flew wide as they met Matt’s and all the details rushed clearly together. “Matt,” I said almost frantically. “The baby store. She thought we came to the baby store to get the baby!”

That little girl had spent the last five hours excitedly anticipating the arrival of a new baby. Her barely controlled excitement and wiggles made so much more sense. She wasn’t excited about bottles, clothes, and baby toys. She was excited about a baby!

We soothed her as best we could as we got her out of the cold wind and into the car. I heard Matt reminding her that the baby will arrive at the hospital. She sniffled. We could see her trying to be brave and pull herself together. Throughout the drive home, she randomly cried tears of sadness while asking if we could go to the doctor instead of home.

Oh, my mama heart.

The next morning she came in bright and early to wake me up. “Doctor?” she asked before anything else.

Sweet, beautiful girl. I love you and your anticipation so very much. That you thought we were going to the store to pick up the baby was adorable and honestly preferable to pushing one out of me. I’m sorry we misunderstood and broke your heart a little bit.

I promise the extra little bit of wait will be worth it.

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Rebecca Mogg

After almost eight years as a well-paid, white collar career woman; my family's principal breadwinner (by a long shot); two babies; postpartum depression combined with emotional abuse; a loving, supportive husband who was always working his demanding job both on site and at home; and only one real vacation (leave was hoarded for family commitments and maternity leave), I was DONE. I was tired of being told I could have it all and, in the same breath, that I could not. I was at a crossroads: continue careening down a path that would surely destroy me and even end my marriage OR make changes that gave me time freedom, work/life balance, a happier family, and a happier ME.

I chose CHANGE. I walked away from that demanding, soul crushing arena to embrace my true self and create the life of my dreams. I left so I could travel when I CHOSE to travel, not when someone demanded it. I walked away from other people dictating when I could be a mother so I could decide that for my family. I chose to be a business woman on my own terms. At the end of the day, I walked away to empower not only myself, but women everywhere.

My main business is coaching others in weight loss, healthy aging, wealth creation, and performance. This lifestyle site is my way of sharing my God-led journey in hopes of inspiring, motivating, emboldening, and empowering each of you. 

So here I am: sharing my truth and relationship with the divine through my family and everyday life. I'm here to share love. It's a bold move in an age where talking about God is almost taboo. The last thing I want to do is isolate anyone. But He has called me to this and I have learned to do as He tells me to do! Most days anyway. I am, after all, incredibly human. Ha!

A Woman's Stage

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I found a long lost part of my soul today. Calming music filled the air as I researched some things in my office. It occurred to me that I hadn’t allowed myself to listen to and truly enjoy good choral music in a long time. For those who don’t know, vocal performance in a town with a unique and high level arts culture is an overarching part of my childhood. That was my preferred outlet. I was good, albeit not confident. This always had me wondering how good I could be if I let it all go. I lost count of how many times a vocal teacher, director, or peer tried to loosen me up. There was so much talent and beauty just waiting for me to release it. That heavy, scared, and doubtful pent-up energy was evident. I was stiff. Stuck in perfection. It was a self-made prison as much as it was an outlet. I loathed university voice studio performances because I was always being told to move more. To let the tension go. I was open to the criticism of my peers. Relax and let it all go? Me? Not likely. Every once in a while, I still have panicked nightmares about voice studio.

As a child I was in childrens’ choirs, school choirs, the top choirs. I did it all. I didn’t audition for the traveling performance choir until I aged out of the non-audition one because I was too scared. But when I did… Oh, the experiences. I learned discipline, performed gorgeous arrangements, had workshops with the likes of Simon Carrington, and performed on stage at Carnegie Hall. It was a big deal, but I couldn’t really fathom how big a deal. It actually felt rather normal. Even now I downplay it all. And of course, the tension, fear, and perfectionism never left.

As all this flowed through my mind, the nudge to find Eric Whitacre on YouTube was strong. So I put in my earbuds, found a playlist, and let it go.

Oh, my friends. It washed over me in a way music hasn’t in a decade. It filled me, lifted me, moved me. At the third song, I closed my eyes. The vision was immediate.

There I stood: a soloist onstage in her ball gown-esque performance attire, singing. Standing in my power. Freely. Openly. Without pain or struggle or perfection. And I was brilliant. My voice. My stance. The flow. My all-encompassing essence.

In releasing perfection and control, it was perfect.

Sitting with this vision, I cried. Whether I’ll endeavor to ever sing in that capacity is questionable. Although it was glaringly evident that I must reintroduce music into my life. A piece of my soul is dormant without it.

Above all, I know this: that woman is who I am becoming. It’s who I’ve fought so hard to unleash. Now I finally know it’s time to stop fighting. She doesn't need a warrior. Let her be. Let her fully emerge. Let her shine. Her struggle is done.

Let that brilliant, beautiful, courageous woman have her stage.

Because it’s time.

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Rebecca Mogg

After almost eight years as a well-paid, white collar career woman; my family's principal breadwinner (by a long shot); two babies; postpartum depression combined with emotional abuse; a loving, supportive husband who was always working his demanding job both on site and at home; and only one real vacation (leave was hoarded for family commitments and maternity leave), I was DONE. I was tired of being told I could have it all and, in the same breath, that I could not. I was at a crossroads: continue careening down a path that would surely destroy me and even end my marriage OR make changes that gave me time freedom, work/life balance, a happier family, and a happier ME.

I chose CHANGE. I walked away from that demanding, soul crushing arena to embrace my true self and create the life of my dreams. I left so I could travel when I CHOSE to travel, not when someone demanded it. I walked away from other people dictating when I could be a mother so I could decide that for my family. I chose to be a business woman on my own terms. At the end of the day, I walked away to empower not only myself, but women everywhere.

My main business is coaching others in weight loss, healthy aging, wealth creation, and performance. This lifestyle site is my way of sharing my God-led journey in hopes of inspiring, motivating, emboldening, and empowering each of you. 

So here I am: sharing my truth and relationship with the divine through my family and everyday life. I'm here to share love. It's a bold move in an age where talking about God is almost taboo. The last thing I want to do is isolate anyone. But He has called me to this and I have learned to do as He tells me to do! Most days anyway. I am, after all, incredibly human. Ha!