Life

BOB

Posted on by Lauren

Lost amidst the busyness of our everyday lives, it came and went as suddenly and normally as weekly groceries, this event I had so built-up in my mind. 

For over 13 years, our BOB stroller occupied precious space in our garage. It’s role and value not to be underestimated. 

It carried our first, second, third and last-born. 

To the park, across the beach, along rugged, rocky trails in Maine, Costa Rica and the Carolinas. This stroller has rolled through airports, water parks and Disney World. Her wheels have traversed through rain, mud, snow and sand and although one daughter, along the way, bucked through the straps breaking them for good, our stroller safely contained each child.

From an infant in Stroller Strides for eight incredible years to an 8 year old’s backpack hitching a ride to-and-from the walking zone of our elementary school, our stroller has never failed us. 

And just like that, she was claimed by a new family and gone, yesterday. 

She honorably and dutifully served us and now, she rolls on with new rear ends to hold and sidewalks to explore. 

We thank her for her loyalty and service and wish her light loads and a gentle retirement. 

BOB, you will forever have our hearts. 

Work-in-Progress

Posted on by Lauren

Anyone else listening to “The Let Them Theory” by Mel Robbins right now?

It’s been nothing short of validating and eye-opening and I haven’t even finished.

I’ve learned a lot.

The greatest lesson is the acceptance that I am, that we all are, a living work-in-progress. 

Although I wish this book had been available to me years ago, I’m so grateful to read it now. 

I’ve done a lot of work with a therapist healing sore wounds but absorbing the lessons in this book feels like starting fresh.

As Mel says, “Let me”.

Choice

Posted on by Lauren

I spent the better part of my thirties examining my past to better understand my present.

Now in my forties, I feel like I’ve got a solid understanding of how I came to be who I am. 

I understand that while I will never be able to fill the gaps for that lonely, lost little girl of my past, I sure can provide my own girls with a solid foundation. 

And instead of wallowing in what happened, I can forgive myself for my missteps, buckle up my shoes and keep walking, eyes forward. 

My childhood friends and I always mimicked my mom’s “You have a choice, Lauren.” speech. But my mom gets the final laugh because, she was right!

There are always going to be people we’d rather not be around or challenging, unavoidable life events.

We can’t choose those people or those events but we can choose how we handle them. 

It’s how we respond that matters.

I have quite a few friends enduring some major life changes this holiday season- deaths of loved ones, divorce and general heartache. 

To them and to all of you reading, I reach out my hand to hold yours and to remind you that in this holy season, you can also put those hands together in prayer to ask for God’s help. 

You’re not alone. 

We never are. 

That’s one choice we can’t make. 

Wishing you love, peace and joy this holiday season. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

River

Posted on by Lauren

Lately, I’ve started to visualize my life as a river.

She’s a real beaut. 

Surrounded by tall trees and mountains. She curves through forests, banked by shady trees; winding through cities, carrying on as rapids to more peaceful pastures. 

My river began as a stream and has gained confidence and power along the way. 

There have been moments when my river stalled. She was curious, exploring a side cove. 

Sometimes, she got stuck in a whirlpool. 

Round-and-round she went until she forgot not only where she came from but also where she was going. 

Finally, a particularly dreadful downpour left her overflowing back to her main stream whereupon she realized, with great relief, that the whirlpool wasn’t her final destination. 

No. 

It was just a stop along the way. 

And that’s what this journey called life is. 

A winding river with stops along the way. 

Sometimes bruised and battered. 

Hopefully made stronger. 

We carry on. 

Triple Falls Dupont State Forest, NC 2023

Mindfulness

Posted on by Lauren

My friend Harper recently came to visit. 

She’s single, doesn’t have children and lives alone in a great apartment in Brooklyn, NY. 

I admit, sometimes I dream of switching places. To eat at restaurants frequently. To have a well-paid professional career. To do whatever I feel like doing during my free time without others dictating the limitations. 

But my husband and I have been having conversations about the Buddhist principal: Want What You Have. 

Instead of “I have to take the kids to gymnastics.” It’s, “I get to take the kids to gymnastics.” It’s a simple word change but it’s latent with meaning: I’m lucky enough to have children. My children are fortunate to have a body that can perform gymnastics. I can afford a car to drive them and so much more. 

So the other night, after I cooked dinner and set it on the table to a critical crowd, “Ew! I hate chicken.” “Mom, if I eat that I’m going to choke.” Emmett looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and said, “But Lauren, you GET to cook them dinner.” 

We both burst into a fit of laughter. 

Because as grateful as we are for this life we’ve created together, as much as we do want what we have, we also recognize that it’s not always easy. It’s a constant juggling of his needs, my needs, their needs and our needs, as a family.

I allow myself to daydream of takeout, uninterrupted movies, and a wide-open schedule while simultaneously practicing mindfulness. Taking a moment to enjoy my surroundings- be it our front yard, the beach, or our rowdy kitchen table. I know these are “the days” and I GET to be their mom. I want what I have. 

But I’m still going to visit Harper in New York and practice mindfulness there, too. 

Forgiveness

Posted on by Lauren

It’s been 51 days since I’ve had a sip of alcohol. 

I’ve gone longer- four pregnancies to be exact. 

But this time is different because I’m doing it for myself. 

Alcoholism and addiction directly impacted my childhood. 

I’ve been in therapy since I was 15 years old and while I have always been aware of my vulnerability, I’ve denied facing the beast. 

Specifically, as a mother, I’ve sacrificed so much already for my children: my body, my decision to eliminate foods to continue nursing two of my babies with severe food allergies, my career as a teacher and sometimes, my sanity! 

Those things were short-term but at the time, my sacrifices felt enormous. So, I stubbornly clung to getting lost in alcohol as “my right”. My time to unwind. My time to escape reality and soften the edges of my frustration. 

I didn’t drink often- maybe once a week or every 10 days- but when I did, I couldn’t stop. One, became two became 10 and I would spend the next day hiding how sick and full of shame I was. 

Rinse. Repeat. For years. 

Until June 3rd when I woke sick again and hit rock bottom. 

I fell to my knees, crying for God to help me. To give me the strength to forgive myself and heal. 

I called a friend whose husband had shared his sober testimony a year earlier. She heard my sobs and truly saw me in my rawest moment. I felt her strength through that phone and knew I would be okay. 

I haven’t looked back. 

I feel free from the demon’s tightening grip. 

I feel proud and so hopeful for the time I have left to be fully present and sober for my husband and children. 

They deserve the best of me. 

And so do I. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Inside Out

Posted on by Lauren

Was I the only one with tears streaming down my face while watching Inside Out 2 in the theater this morning?

I’m not sure but sitting next to my four daughters, this movie really hit home- particularly in reference to our 12 year-old. 

Those who know me personally know how attentive I’ve always been of our daughters’ feelings. As a child who often felt misunderstood, I know how important it is for my girls’ feelings to be validated, seen and explored, instead of ignored. 

Spoiler alert: the climax of the movie occurs when the emotion Joy realizes that she can no longer simply dismiss undesirable memories and power forward through main character Riley’s puberty ignorant of the arrival of new emotions anxiety, embarrassment, ennui and envy. The lesson that struck deep in my heart was that there was no turning back to the way things were before. Instead, Joy recognizes her need to include the new emotions in order for Riley to feel secure with her true self. It’s a hard pill to swallow- that we can’t just keep acting like everything is fine and BE fine. That when we try to fight anxiety with denial, it only grows. We must learn to live with, around and through it. 

Watching my child struggle with growing up has broken my heart into tiny little pieces. I want to fix it for her; the embarrassment the rejection, the shame she feels. And like Joy, I can’t. I watch helplessly as she struggles, knowing that there’s no other way than through. 

And yet, the overwhelming emotion I left that theater with was pure and true gratitude. As hard and ugly as witnessing Aurora’s journey to adulthood is, it’s also such an incredible privilege. I have been given a gift- this opportunity to empower and encourage my child. I walked away with more empathy than ever for my daughter and the desire to hug her as long as she would allow. Forever and ever. Inside out. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Brave

Posted on by Lauren

I only knew to ask because I had already lost someone to suicide. 

Every story is different. 

But the common theme is, 

No one ever saw it coming. 

So, how do we change it? How do we help?

We courageously ask:

Have you thought of ending your life?

It’s a terrifying ask because we don’t want to hear the answer I heard:

“Yes. Last month.”

All I could think is Thank God I didn’t wait a minute longer to tell this person:

You’re not alone. 

We are not giving up on you, even when you give up on yourself. 

It takes bravery to ask and for them to answer. 

It’s June now, but May we all be so brave to ask.

Just ask.

Reinvent

Posted on by Lauren

It’s time to try again. 

It’s time to lay it on the line. 

Rejection is always possible. 

But worse is the what-if. 

So, we gather our courage

And we play our cards. 

The vulnerability is real. 

But so is life. 

Camille Vaughan Photography

Known

Posted on by Lauren

Aside from the 37 hour labor, 11 days past her due date, she really was almost too easy, as a baby. She was 16 months before she walked; instead, she happily sat on any surface and entertained herself with her surroundings- be that toys, people or pine straw. 

I should’ve known.

It was 30 hours into labor when my midwife looked at me and announced: 

“This is not your story to tell.”

Time stopped. My heart stopped. My tears flowed. 

Aurora had two cords wrapped around her neck at birth, delaying her arrival for good reason. 

My midwife looked me dead in my eyes to tell me when to push, when to pause and suddenly, urgently, when, with a roar, to give it my all. 

From the beginning, my daughter and I have challenged one another. 

Now, the tween years- the ones everyone before me has warned of. 

I fruitlessly planned for Aurora’s birth. 

I refuse to plan for these next days. 

Instead, I meet her where she is, each day. 

Just like her birth, it’s not easy. 

It never was. 

We cry, we argue, we admit our mistakes and we hug. 

It’s exhausting and rewarding. 

My girl has been stubborn from the beginning. 

But with good reason. 

It’s her story to tell. 

Not mine. 

I should’ve known. 

Camille Vaughn Photography