Holding On

I feel like I’ve lost a major coping mechanism in my life. Somewhere I could always feel better, more joyful, even when I was struggling. A place where I could pour my heart out, even if it felt like an insane thing to do, and I’d feel less alone. There is a saying, “I write because I don’t know how I feel until I read what I say (Flannery O’Connor).” This, my friends, is the crux of it all. I have to write. I am not a debater, or someone who skillfully wins arguments with flair and a smirk on my face. Nope, I mumble and second guess and question myself. I say things like, “You might be right” or “I believe you believe that.” I am not argumentative. I am not eager. It’s just not me.

However, I do have opinions. I have thoughts and feelings and grand ideas and silly ideas. I like to cultivate my questions until I’ve been over them a hundred times in my own head. Then I let it all pour out on a computer screen or in a notebook until my heart and head feel purged.

For the longest time, this place, this weird, strange land of the Internet, was where my thoughts landed. When my brain raced with excitement, I would write here. I’d share my fear with you and I felt immediately better. This is my home.

But lately, there have been things I just can’t write about. It’s too raw, too real and too f’ing scary, honestly. A few weeks ago, at my daughter’s school carnival, some sweet tween girls came up to me and said, excitedly “You’re Crazybananas!” They remembered me from a writing workshop I had done a few months back. “My aunt reads your blog, she loves it!”

There is something supremely strange and wonderful about knowing some girl’s aunt is reading your deepest mental musings. But it’s also terrifying. Because I can’t just put it out there anymore. There has to be some censorship, not only to protect myself, but my family. And that’s hard. Really, really hard. All of a sudden, my sacred place isn’t the same anymore. I cannot share my struggles, and so, instead, there is silence.

For a while I tried just posting photo shoots or sweet images of my blessed life, but then my computer went kaboom (something about not backing it up and not enough memory…whoops), and now I’m just sitting here. No images. No wise words. Just a blank screen and a blinking cursor.

Blink. Blink. Blink.

Just know I miss you. I miss our talks, friends. I’m finding it hard to share about silly, trite things, when life is seemingly so complicated right now. But I still love my life. I love hats and Britney Spears and sales at H&M and Doctor Who and red lipstick. And maybe now that I’ve emptied this load in my brain, I can get back to some of the fun stuff. Because, you guys, life is actually really fun. Even when it seems like it isn’t. Actually, that’s probably when it’s the most amazing.


What I’ll Miss

The other day I saw this article from a few years ago, and it really resonated with me. Before Nora Ephron’s death in 2012, she wrote this list of things she would and would not miss from this world (she had been suffering from cancer for a number of years before her passing). I’ve posted her list before, but this time around, I decided to put together my own list. There are so many beautiful and incredible things in this life, I feel so grateful to experience them all. And on the other hand, some things are just super dumb, and I most definitely will not miss them at all.

Headed to the farm, so I had to bust out my H&M wool hat like the fake cowgirl I am! #poser #dontcare #seriousfsce #selfie #cowgirl #kansas

Things I Will Not Miss
24 Hour News Channels
Angry People with Facebook Accounts
Blame and Shame in All of Their Forms
Holding My Tongue
Freezing Rain (also Hail)
Alarm Clocks
Traffic and Commuting
Smart Phones, Access to Email Everywhere

Things I Will Miss
Lulu’s Laugh
Tate’s Bunny Smile
Trent’s Bear Hugs
My Journal, Writing in General
My Camera
The Sun’s Rays on My Face
A Cool Rain
Snow Days
New Hats
Long Phone Calls
My Cup of Tea Before Bed
New Year’s Eve
Twinkle Lights
Holding My Breath Underwater

You Are Enough


(Image found via Bloom)

The other day I was on the phone with a friend who had one of those hard mothering days. We’ve all had them. I had one just a day ago myself. These are the days when I’m too short with Tate as he tells me for the twentieth time he “has a problem” as I’m trying to put him to bed. The days when Lulu disobeys a rule, and then when she gets caught, tells me she hates our family and wants to run away. The days when despite my greatest efforts, I can’t seem to do anything right. You know the ones I mean…the ones when bedtime can’t come early enough and when the house is finally still you want to curl up in to a ball and cry.

I posted this image on Pinterest that same day, and my friend said she was scrolling through and it really spoke to her. The holidays are a hard time for recovering perfectionists like me. Just being, enjoying and taking it all in never seems like enough. There is always one more card to send or gift to shop for. The the To Do List is constantly growing, and rarely are there more items crossed off than are added. Thinking about it makes my chest get all tight and a panicky sweat creeps over my brow.

But it’s true. What you did today, whatever it was, is enough. There need not be more. You can put the list to bed, and leave the rest for tomorrow. Or not. You can throw the list away if you want to. Just remember, you’re enough.

Be Brave

A friend of mine sent me this video the other day and told me she was thinking of me. You see, my friends, I have been having a tough time. And even though I’m a writer and a storyteller at heart, I have a hard time talking about when things are hard. I gloss it over and suck it in and before I know it, I’m like a shaken up bottle of soda, ready to explode. This is something I’m working on, talking about when things are hard and asking for help, and this wonderful friend knew this. Her note:

I was driving in the car with my daughter and she was singing this song and I thought of you!! All of us, really! xo

Let’s try to be brave this weekend, okay. Just for a day or two. All we really need is five minutes of courage, right? Five minutes could change everything.

Sleep Deprived and a Little Bit Crazy

How we are handling the boy who keeps climbing out of the crib....mattress on the floor FTW.

Both of my kids have always been champion sleepers. Even at 7, Lucy still needs a good 10 to 12 hours of sleep at night to function like a normal human. Tate is the same way. He’s always slept around 12 hours a night, and still takes 2 to 3 hour naps during the day. It’s their father’s genetics playing around in their bodies, they all love sleep.

But in the last few weeks, things have gotten a little nutty around our house. Our sweet boy has officially decided the crib is no longer his favorite place to be. He first climbed out a couple of weeks ago, in an angry fit that I hadn’t given him the appropriate amount of hugs before bedtime. It was a few days before he tried again, but now there is no containing him. And apparently those crib-tent things are no longer safe, so I can’t zip him in to his crib either. Grrr.

Our current solution (until we find the right bed for his room…which isn’t exactly in the budget since we just redid Lucy’s room two weeks ago) is the always classy mattress on the floor (demonstrated in the image above, and yes, he does sleep with five blankets and 10 stuffed animals). I suppose it is sort of working in that he’s not about to break his arm climbing the crib anymore, but he still isn’t sleeping very well. I will hear little noises at all hours of the night, and open the door to find him surrounded by his toys, wide awake like it’s Christmas morning. Twice I’ve checked on him in the middle of the night to find him asleep under a pile of books on the floor. And his new parlor trick is waking up at 4 a.m. and refusing to go back to sleep because it’s MORNING! GOOD MORNING LET’S PLAY CARS OR TRUCKS OR WATCH THOMAS THE TRAIN OR GO POTTY!!!!

Needless to say, I’m less than enthused.

So if you’ve seen me stumbling around the past few days or have been worried about my red eyes and all around crazy demeanor, please know it’s not you. It’s the kid’s fault. My god, it’s a good thing he’s cute.

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