Bluey Family

07/29/2025

To the moms sending their babies to middle school this year

Whew. This one hits different, doesn’t it?

It’s not just another “back to school.”
It’s the start of something bigger.
The moment they start becoming them.

a whole human being walking into a world
so much bigger than elementary school

With friends you won’t know.
Teachers you haven’t met.
Hallways that don’t let you walk them in anymore.

And if you’re anything like me,
you’re proud as hell…
but also fighting back tears while shoving highlighters and deodorant into a Target cart.

Because middle school means change.

Hormones.
Hard questions.
Harder goodbyes.
Inside jokes you’re not part of.
Little freedoms that feel like big steps.

They’re starting to pull away
they’re testing the edges of the nest you built from scratch

And as much as you want to wrap them up in bubble wrap and hold them tight forever…

you know this is what all the growing was for.

So you let them go.
One school drop-off, one lunchbox, one deep breath at a time.

You remind them to be kind.
To stand up for the quiet kid.
To ask for help.
To use the deodorant.
To come back to you when the world gets loud.

And you hope the world is kind to gives rhem
You hope they find their people
You hope they never forget who they are
and where they come from

And then you cry a little in your car
And that’s okay
Because this is motherhood
Messy. Bittersweet. Brave

You raised a good one, mama
Now the world gets to meet them

And that’s terrifying. And beautiful. And everything in between 🖤

07/29/2025

Some days, they’ll climb all on their own.
They’ll grip the bar tightly, take a deep breath, and swing to the next one with quiet courage.
They won’t look back. They won’t ask for help.
They’ll just go — bold and brave — because they believe they can.

Other days… they’ll pause.
They’ll hesitate.
They’ll need your hands to lift them just a little higher,
to hold them steady while they find their balance.
Not because they can’t do it,
but because in that moment, they need to feel you right there beside them.

And that’s what parenting is, isn’t it?

It’s knowing when to step in… and when to step back.
It’s learning to let go… even when every part of you wants to hold on.
It’s showing up — every single time —
so when they glance back, you’re there.
Not always with answers.
Not always with solutions.
But always with love. Always watching. Always cheering.

Because your steady presence…
your quiet, unwavering love…
that’s what gives them the courage to stretch just a little farther,
to swing a little higher,
and to believe — deep down —
that they can reach the next bar.

07/29/2025

Looks like Bingo officially doesn't have a middle name

07/29/2025

“Let them cry it out.”
They say it like silence is the goal.
But silence isn’t always peace.
Sometimes, it’s a baby who’s given up.

Babies don’t “learn independence” by crying alone.
They learn their needs won’t be met.
They learn that no one is coming.
That their voice doesn’t matter.

You think they’re sleeping through the night?
Sometimes they’re just done asking.

The cry-it-out method might train a baby to stay quiet…
But it also teaches them that comfort is conditional.
That love has limits.

And that’s not something I’m willing to teach.

07/29/2025

Took the kids to the carnival, even though I knew it would be crowded, expensive, and a little chaotic. And I won't lie... it was all of that. But watching their faces light up on the rides, seeing their fingers sticky from cotton candy, hearing their laughter echo over the music and games... it made every penny and every moment worth it.

They ran from one ride to the next like it was the best day of their lives. And honestly, maybe it was.

These are the memories they’ll carry. The moments they’ll look back on and smile. And I’ll hold onto them too, because one day they won’t need me to hold their hand through the fun.

So yes, it was a little wild. But I’d do it all over again.

Because the joy on their faces, that kind of magic is absolutely priceless. 🎡🤍

07/29/2025

This one hurts to write…

But it’s honest.

I’m not perfect.
I’ve made mistakes.

But I’ve always loved them,
with every part of me,
even the broken ones 😞

07/29/2025

Maybe I’m just messed up in the head but I can’t help but see a major design flaw…:

07/27/2025

07/24/2025

There’s a unique kind of heartbreak that comes with stepmotherhood, one that’s often silent, hidden behind smiles and school pick-ups, behind dinners cooked and tears wiped, behind effort that goes unnoticed.

And sometimes… you hit a wall.

You realize you’re pouring into a cup that never gets passed back. You’re doing the drop-offs, buying the birthday gifts, showing up at school events, biting your tongue to keep the peace, loving children who aren’t biologically yours and doing it all with no acknowledgment, no thank you, and sometimes even disrespect in return.

And after a while, it gets heavy.

This isn’t about needing a trophy or recognition. This is about basic appreciation. Respect. Being seen. And when you’re constantly left feeling invisible in a role that demands so much, it starts to wear on your soul.

So, you step back.

Not out of spite, not to be petty. But to protect your peace. To find yourself again. To remember that you’re a person too… not just the glue that holds the blended family together. You step back because you can’t keep sacrificing your mental and emotional health to hold up a system that refuses to hold you back.

And guess what? That’s okay.

Stepping back doesn’t mean you don’t love them.
It means you’re choosing to love yourself, too.

To all the stepmoms out there who feel like they’re drowning in effort that no one notices, I see you. Your love is real. Your work matters. And if you need to take a break, reevaluate, or draw some new boundaries, you are absolutely allowed.

This journey is hard enough without losing you in the process.

You deserve peace.
You deserve rest.
You deserve to feel valued.

And if no one has told you lately: Thank you for all you’ve done. You’re more than enough. Even if they can’t see it yet.

07/24/2025

I watched her hold my baby today.
The same hands that held mine through scraped knees and sleepless nights now cradle softly like she has finally put something heavy down.

She does not rush anymore.
She moves slower but somehow more beautifully.
She laughs deeper. Smiles wider.
She feels softer in a way I do not remember from my childhood.

Back then she was everything to everyone. Exhausted. Always giving. Always trying.
Now she chooses peace.
She says no when she needs to.
She picks rest over performance.
And she holds my child like she is soaking in every single moment she once missed.

She hums lullabies I forgot she ever knew.
And it hits me. She is still my mom. But she is also someone new now.
Someone who has healed a little.
Someone who is allowed to exhale.
Someone who gets to just be.

Watching her become a grandmother feels like watching her start over.
Not from the beginning, but from a place of softness she never got to live in before.

She did not just raise me.
She is raising something in herself too.
Something gentle. Something free.

07/24/2025

Seen this in a other group n it was to funny not to share 🤣

Not my photo

07/24/2025

mama, i don’t really know what “tired” means yet.
but today, i think i saw it in your eyes.

you looked like the day had asked too much of you —
like you gave pieces of yourself to everyone,
and had nothing left to keep.

but you still picked me up.
you still smiled at me.
you still gave me everything, even when you felt empty.

your arms were soft and warm.
your heartbeat sounded like home.
and when you held my little hand,
i didn’t care that the house was messy,
or that you hadn’t changed out of your pajamas yet.

to me, that moment was perfect.
because i don’t need much, mama.
i just need you.

so when you think you’re not doing enough,
when you feel like you’re behind,
or that you’re somehow failing,
please remember this —
i don’t see any of that.

i see the way you love me.
i see how you show up for me,
even on days when your soul feels heavy.

and mama? that’s everything.

on your easiest days, i adore you.
but on your hardest days — especially on your hardest days —
you are still my favorite person in the whole world.

you’re doing better than you think.
and i love you more than my tiny heart can hold.
always. forever. 🤍