What an incredible year this has been! Duluth Moms Blog is bursting with pride today on the first anniversary of our launch. We started out small and full of passion about what we wanted to do: bring a sense of togetherness and connection among moms of the Northland. In just a year’s time we’ve grown in so many ways: in numbers, in meet ups and events, in laughter, in sorrow, in support, and in our resolve to continue to be an inviting community and resource for moms.
We are so grateful for all the support you have given us both online and at our events. It’s truly been a blessing to connect moms with each other and with local businesses that make parenting just a little bit easier. Because it’s our birthday we thought we’d celebrate by taking another look at the top 12 posts of our inaugural year. We hope you enjoy rereading old favorites or finding a few gems you missed the first time around.
To My Babies I Never Held
My dear babies, I did grieve for you. I cried. I hurt. And I asked so many questions. Those closest to us knew of the hurt and the loss, but I didn’t talk too openly about this hard time. Everyone grieves differently. Sometimes it’s more public, sometimes it’s more private. For me it was more private grief, but it was felt pain and grief nonetheless. And still to this day, I may not talk about you often, but I haven’t forgotten you. Honestly, keeping a day to remember would hurt too much…
Five Reasons to Raise Kids in Duluth
When I was growing up, Duluth Minnesota was a metropolis to me. We’d travel there to go shopping, see the doctor, and visit family. Eventually I ended up attending college in the “big city” and immediately moved away following graduation because it was too small.
Just after my daughter was born, we decided to leave the hustle and bustle of the Twin Cities. We quit our jobs and left our comfortable life in Burnsville so we could be closer to grandma and grandpa (read: free babysitting)…
Things I No Longer Care About
When you become a mother, you quickly realize how much there is to care about. You care about the fact that today your fetus is the size of a tangerine. You care about whether eating a turkey sandwich will cause irreparable damage. You care a lot about how this being will exit your body and how much it will hurt…
Rock Bottom Honesty
I think there’s power in sharing the stuff we think will change how people see us. We can sometimes think if we’re really honest, we’ll no longer be accepted. If they really knew me, they’d leave me. I’m gonna challenge that thought today. The following story is the rock bottom point in my life. Deep breath. Here goes…
Sometimes Hope is a Pinprick of Light
“The Light shines in the darkness…” Book of John
“Whoo! That was a good one.” “Yeah–you made it!” The gigantic tree lit our living room in warm, white light. It’s Goliath size no match for our aim. We were altogether “David” each of us picking up an ornament and launching it into the high, upper branches of the 18-foot tree standing in our living room, grazing the ceiling and blazing out Christmas. Ornament throwing is a Sorvik family tradition since the tree is too tall to hang ornaments without scaffolding. Everybody in our family loves the craziness of it all! I mean, who else puts on Christmas music and hurls ornaments to decorate? We take personal delight in putting the ‘deck’ in ‘deck the halls.’
Dear World: Stop Commenting On My Daughter’s Body
Honestly, it started before she was born–the comments on her projected size and shape from well-meaning people. “Is she measuring big? It looks like she’s measuring big!” I brushed it off back then because you get all sorts of invasive questions or statements about your fetus’s development when you’re expecting: Was it planned? Can you imagine if she gets her dad’s huge head?! OMG, you’re STILL pregnant?
My daughter is now five, and the comments haven’t stopped. If anything they’ve gotten worse and they’re often said in front of my daughter, or even to her. Believe me when I stress this: these seemingly innocent asides are going to start doing irreparable damage to her beautifully confident soul.
Adoption: Mountain and Valley
My husband and I weren’t one of those families that always had their heart set on adoption. We didn’t have it planned out. It wasn’t even on our radar. Nathanael sneezed on me, and I got pregnant. It was that easy. Although, after four pregnancies, and three births, we were told it wouldn’t be wise for me to conceive again. You see, instead of waiting to contract at 40 weeks, my body started at 17 weeks. Now this is craziness! I am NEVER early for anything. Since my body was done hosting babes, we started the process of adoption.
I’m in Love With a Stranger I Call My Husband
The first time the thought ever crossed my mind it hit me like a ton of bricks. I am in love with my husband, but he now feels like a stranger. How did we get here? My mind retraced our steps through the last two years. I’ll never forget my husband’s expression when the ultrasound tech told us our first born would be a girl. His complexion now paler, had a way of blankness yet terrified anticipation to it. This was it. This was real. We would be protecting and keeping this challenging yet beautiful baby alive without a clue in the world…
The Double Cart
Two months ago I was lucky enough to become a stay at home mom! So obviously I am going to be the perfect mom now. We are going to do art projects and educational activities all day! I am going to cook gourmet meals all the time, and I am going to send my husband to work with lunch so he doesn’t have to spend money eating out. All of the boxes that are still waiting to be unpacked from moving in a few months ago will be unpacked and organized right away and I will start decorating. Our house will look like it came out of a magazine! Oh and the rest of this baby weight is just going to finally drop off now because I will actually have time to take care of myself! Maybe I will even start extreme couponing…
I Met My Dad on His Death Bed
I am a by-product of a very young couple madly in love. But as the story goes, sometimes love isn’t enough. My biological father was just nineteen, my mom twenty. I’ve seen pictures of him and heard stories, but growing up never met him. Handsome young man, Randy was his name. He was apparently super funny, amazing at baseball and had a kind heart. My mom had all the qualities to match, but when I was born I guess it was just too much for Randy to handle. Instead of being a father and a husband, he had other plans. My mom gave him an ultimatum, her and I or his friends and all the things that came with partying like drinking, drugs, and other women…
A Love Hate Relationship with the Holidays
Our angel was called home after only three short months on this earth. And the holidays have never been the same. For the first few years my husband and I turned off all of the lights and literally ran from our house on Halloween. At Thanksgiving we are reminded that there is an empty chair at the table where our son should sit. And each year when I hang the stockings (with care) I cry because there is not one with his name on it…
The Day My Kid Quit My Favorite Sport
My kid has also taught me that changing courses can be a good thing. It’s okay to drop what you’re doing and try something new. Life is too short to not be doing what you find a passion for, even at 10 years old (this excuse does not work when it comes to doing the dishes, however). This will not be the first time she shifts her interests, and trying something new is even harder than doing the same thing for years and years. I should be so bold.