Getting through the tough times, takes a little reminding and a little vodka.

I have a lot of things I wish I could change but one of the things I wish most to change takes so much effort, time, and commitment to fix. So I don't always do it right, and I don't always recognize when I do need to change it and I forget how much it takes until I'm fully engulfed. I spend a lot of time allowing myself to get sucked down deep into a blah cycle of self loathing, frustration and sadness aka the ol' depression. It is something that is always with me, but there are times when it claws away at my being; reducing me to a shell of the person I ACTUALLY am. 

There was a time, many years ago, when I was much more void of emotion and feeling. I always felt they were signs of weakness, admitting struggle just showed that you can't handle life. I spent many, many years bottled up and terrified that I was the weakest, most unstable person in there world because hey, look at EVERYONE ELSE, they can get out of bed without a panic attack. They drive to work without puking from fear. They can talk to people and not burst into tears because everyone obvi hates you and doesn't want to hear what you say. Let's just say it was a fun lifestyle. Loads. 

I hid a lot of who I was then. Choosing to keep people at arms length and share only the tiniest glimpses into my life than let people in. My walls had been built, the foundation poured and cemented by years of self doubt and instability. There was no getting through them. When I think back to the people I knew then, even the guy I dated seriously at the time, I feel absolutely awful. No wonder things seemed so toxic, I was a ball of anger and frustration waiting for someone to light the fuse so I could go off! And boy did it get lit. Anger was the only emotion I had time for. I was angry at everyone. Angry at my friends, angry at my boyfriend, angry at my parents, my sister, the sun, the clouds, that guy on the bench over there... Or so I thought. I was angry. But I was also sad. And lonely. And afraid. There were layers to the anger I never once looked at in all those years. & now I look back and greatly regret it. Things could have been different and I wouldn't have lost those years with the people I love and care about because I was so bitter and angry. 

Eventually something changed. I met a really great person who ask what was actually SO bad in my life? Not the trivial shit either. Like actually bad-was I dying? Was I homeless? Did I go without food for days? Was I in constant fear of being raped? Beaten? Murdered? Would someone be able to do those things to me because as a woman, I drove a car? Or had a job? Or went to school? She encouraged me to look outside myself, beyond the anger and bitterness. They ask what really was the problem here, in my little insignificant life, full of privilege and hope-what really was the issue?

Me. 

That's what it was. And not in the regular self loathing way either. More so in the I've gotten to the bottom of the barrel and there's a mirror and ohhhh crapppp. I held on to things that need not be held on to. I refused to forgive issues passed that needed forgiveness. I would not let people in because they will just leave or hurt me anyways, so why bother!? I was angry at myself for never being true to who I was this whole time. Underneath the anger and the stoicness, was hurt and fear and pain, bottles up from years of allowing others to dictate my happiness for me. 

In time, I learned people could not talk to me certain ways. I learned to stand up for myself and what I believe in. I learned people value your input, even in the times it differs from theirs, as long as it's true to you. I learned to embrace my quirks and use them to my advantage. I learned who I was and that being an ENFP, sanguine-choleric, words of affermation person, that there are not just weaknesses, there are also strengths to my personality. I figured them out and ran with it. I learned friendships are much stronger when they are two-way streets. That people value advice from someone who listens first and wholeheartedly. I learned it's ok for people to see you vulnerable, it strengthens your bond and your ability to trust them. The person I have become is a much truer version of the person I have always been-a slightly overly emotional wreck who cares very, very deeply about the people I meet. 

I still have my moments when I shut down and don't want to care (usually after mistrust). It is hard to remain positive when it hits the fan. But for the most part I have tried to remain true to the person I have grown in to. yes I cry more because I care more, I will always drop anything for the people in my life and do what I can to help them, I trust more and have greater friendships for that. I try to be an open book when appropriate, sharing stories and thoughts that may help people but also for the sake of sharing in others lives. I listen contently and have empathy. But mostly every day I try. 

Things gradually shift from the dark days to the light, when I remember to be thankful & happy with what I have, who I am, where I can go. And I realize in these days of lightening, that I am again excited for life. I am enthralled by my children, I look forward to my husband coming home-if for nothing more than to stare at his handsome face. I give more of myself to the people I love on these day and want nothing in return, but for them to know I love them. I try extra hard when I feel light coming through, because I am excited again for this life. 

I have learned that this depression does not define me, neither does my anxiety or OCD. It exists and I live with it. But it will not be my outline. It will not be what I am known for or what people notice first. I make a conscious effort each day to pull myself from it's grips. I know it is hard to do and that each if us down in these trenches have to navigate them our own ways. I feel for you in your struggles, I hope for you to find your safe place that will bring you out of dark days. For me I remind myself. I remember that I have food to eat, clean water, house to live in and am safe. That I am free to do as I please. That I have opportunity and knowledge. That  my kids are cared for. That my husband is cared for. That we have what we have and that's what we need. That life is good and better than we think, even at the lowest of my lows-life is good. 

A Tuesday after Mother's Day.

All natural

Medicated

Cesarean 

VBAC

At the hospital

At home

In the car

Naturally conceived

Unplanned

In vitro

Surrogate

Adopted

Partner coached

Midwife

Doctor

It doesn't matter how you become one, it just matters that you did. Happy Mother's Day! You all are amazing. (Or rather happy belated because this is late because kids)

Motherhood will never be my second nature. I fumble through it and cringe most of the time. We never have, nor ever will, totally know what we are doing. Ever single time I think 'I've got this' my three year old pees his pants in public when he's been potty trained for nearly a year. Or my one year old tackles a crawling baby, bops it on the head then beelines to me like 'took that little sucker out, didyouseethat ma?' Yep, I saw it and now I'm red faced and cringing again. 

I was not that girl who played Barbie and house. I never was the mommy. Never has someone said "you're so nurturing" mostly because that seems weird! I much preferred climbing way up high in the tree tops, running through muddy fields, splashing in the creek and riding behind anything with a motor on some improvised cart or sled. So, maybe I was a bit of a tomboy (hasn't changed per say, but I do love me a heel/dress/made up/nails done combo...on a Tuesday. So paradox, much difference) I think a lot of that helped shape the kind of mom I am today. I know the joys of a tree swaying beneath you in the breeze and the thrill of a throttle. I am glad for the boys I have, all smelly two of them! 

Motherhood surprised the shhh out of me. I was the most unprepared. The most overwhelmed by the emotional aspect of it. I couldn't keep it together any more all because of this tiny squawking, frog legged baby. Growing up, I certainly never, ever ever saw myself with two children (or married but that's a different story). I don't think anyone really thought I would have kids, I never really even baby sat. Ever. I didn't learn to change a diaper until I was in my 20s. So motherhood freaked me out. And I freaked myself out by how much I loved it. And even after children I never imagined my desire to have more would be so great. 

Yep. 

I said it. 

I do sometimes want more kids. 

But I also sometimes want no more kids. 

Sometimes I want less kids than I have, for like two hours. Wouldn't that be nice, two hours of less kids. And silence. Pure quite to hear myself think. Or breath. Or pee alone. That's gotta be the life, those young couples and single folk out there peeing alone on the weekdays. Sleeping in on the weekends. Eating a hot meal every time! Whhhaaaa?!?

 

But I digress. 

I do actually like having kids. I like my boys, their quirks and dirt and all, hell I would gladly add another boy in the mix because I feel like I get boy-mothering: they hit, fake shoot things, run crazy, bring pockets full of dirt inside, always hands in pants, farts are funny, always eating, sorta smelly, jumping off things, living on the edge, all things trucks bikes motorcycles are good, but they love mama super lots. I accept that things will get broken, tears will fall, and a stern mama goes a long way! Not that it always happens, I'm a pretty huge pushover/constantly overwhelmed by my two kids soooo watch out world, parenting expert over hurrrrr.  But most days I think yeah, this is covered. (don't get me started on my irrational fear of girl-mothering, somehow I think all the few things that come naturally to me as a boy mother will fail me hugely as a girl mother). 

There is a big part of me that will always feel like a failure as a mother for one thing or another (not breastfeeding long enough. Processed food sometimes. Hudson's not saying words yet! Neither of my kids know a second language! Ughhhh). But today, or actually Sunday, I won't think twice or three times or 875 times about if I am doing a good job. I won't wonder if I did right by my children. Instead I will celebrate the fact that I was lucky enough to have them, that they have saved me more than once and that maybe, someday they will think they were lucky enough to have me.

 

Easy peasy.

Things I said today:

-where are your underwear?

-don't eat that off the ground

-I don't care if the squirrel ate it his immune system is different

-the immune system helps the body stay healthy and strong 

-what's what? Oh that, probably poop from earlier

-josh, seriously. Just come home. I'm waving a white flag over here and covered in snot and poop and life can't even right now.

It's been a day (/week/month/neverendingcycle). There is loads on loads on loads of laundry. There are dishes from 2, maybe 3, days ago still in the sink. The house is covered in a layer of dog hair because shedding. And it's been too rainy or not muddy out to take the boys into our mud pit of a back yard. Couple all that with a nagging cough (me), a fussy teether (Hudson) and the general zest for life/sunshine rainbows resident threenager (Easton) and we are giving up today. 

My white flag is a diaper wipe. And it was probably used prior to me waving it. 

There will never be a solid answer of what's easier working or staying at home with kids. It doesn't matter what camp you are in, it doesn't matter what you are currently doing the grass will always be greener and easier on the other side. 

When I worked I felt overwhelmed and guilty all the time. I was paying someone else to raise our kid. I was missing all of the things I should be there for. I had to be up and ready to function at 6 every morning to get all of out the door on time to get to work by 9. And then I had to crawl through a day like I hadn't been up 8 times to nurse/soothe/retuck in/whateversneeded the night before. I managed through Easton's first year because my sister nannied for us. It was so much easier to know he was with someone who loved him as much as we did. Then she needed to find a real job, so we found a daycare and every morning I felt like I was going to puke. Every day drug on, every drop off included tears, every time I thought about him being there my heart hurt. Our provider was nice and came with lovely recommendations, but it just never felt right. When we got pregnant a second time, we figured we'd just add the new baby to daycare and continue on because the thought of staying home terrified me. 

And then baby came, and we tried it out, and I quit my job. 

There was no better solution. We didn't have a grandparent around who could watch the kids 5 days a week. We had daycare and it wasn't working. The thought of leaving my tiny precious baby with someone who couldn't hold him ALL day broke my heart. Because in my mind the thing that mattered most was that he was held, all day, while there. I thought about how often Easton was sick from the other kids. How they were all much older, how would he be able to handle that!? How would I!??

I couldn't. So I left a job I loved, I became a stay at home mom with two under two. I made lunch after lunch after lunch. I kissed booboos and wipes butts. I was up all night with one only to have to get out of bed at 7 with the other. I get no breaks from them or their needs. They are constantly searching for me, seeking out a snack or a pencil or a game or a toy stuck deep under the couch-even when their father is home, it's always mom first. They scream and fight. They bite each other and throw food on the floor. They don't always share and they skip naps. There are days when I don't sit down once in the 8-10 hours I'm home alone with them. I haven't gotten to the dishes today and it's after 3. I won't get to those 4 loads of laundry until tomorrow night. I need to vacuum for the 3rd time today because snacks and dog hair. I have anxiety over the pile of crap on our kitchen table. I don't know where I put the wipes and that's our last bit of them. I need a shower and a vodka. The baby doesn't feel good and neither do I, but I can't call in. And guess what, I spend most of my days feeling overwhelmed and guilty. 

It just sucks some days. It sucks most days.

 But it's not their fault, they don't know why I'm stressed or that the sound they make during whine for no reason hour is my own personal idea of H-E-DoubleHockeySticks. They don't know that I'm still stewing over something josh and I argued about. They don't know that I want to save more money but when I have wasted $30 in food trying to find something they will eat for lunch consistently that's not happening. They don't know why I snap left and right for them machine gun asking for things. 

But I do. I know that I am tired and sick and cranky. I know that kids are learning and watching and sponging, so I know when Easton sternly yells I need a two minute quiet time! that he learned that from one place and one place only. They have bad days, but they are few. Whereas I have bad days and they are every other day some weeks. 

The nice things about having a job was being out of the house, adult convo, making monies to help house, it was nice that even after the longest hardest day at work I closed that door behind me and went home. And was happy and the stress rarely followed me home. I had a great job with great people that was really fulfilling, so it was easy to get up and go there everyday. But I missed out on a lot. I didn't see Easton learn to walk or blow kisses for the first time. I didn't see him crawl first. I missed his first summer spent at the park and digging around outside. I missed the things that mattered but I did what I could with what I had. 

It was hard to decide to stay home. Financially it's a struggle, but we get by. Our kids have what they need AND what they want, we get a date night now and then and HOPEFULLY ALL THINGS CROSSED maybe a vacation getaway next year. We make it work. there have been fights and tears and wishing I could go back. I've had my days where I fully regret it. There are times when I just want to provide more. But I know here is where I belong. My kids thrive with a parent home. They always seek me out because I am the doer, the maker, the fixer, the mom. They need so much from me because I have proven that I will provide it. I never get a break and I don't say that frivolously-I live it. They need from me 24/7/365 and then some. But they need because I will. They thrive because I will. They are happy because I will, I can and I do. By every ounce that is in me, I do for my child. 

While there are a million other things I could think of, that I wish I could do in a day, the fact that I fill up my morning with dance party breakfasts and castle building and walks and adventures with two little boys is all the reason I need for making the choice we did for me to stay home (worlds longest sentence). I miss working and have been lucky enough to fill in and take side jobs and still enjoy the grind. But these boys. Well, they provide so much more than work ever could for me: their laughter, their tears, their every moment with me pays my soul, something my wallet never did. 

7 quick takes/five for friday

Linking up over hurrrr and huurrr. I can do that right...I hope..uh oh rule breaker over here...

[ONE] These cookies! Holy cookie of deliciousness. They.Are.Good! I was a a littttttleee apprehensive because they are also too easy, but they turned out so good I had to take them to Josh's work, because devouring. 

[TWO] Sunshine & outside. Two things that were not happening last week, that WILL be happening this week. Hopefully so much sunshine that our easter egg hunt will actually happen outside!

[THREE] I am super happy about above because see below. Below has been happening fartoomuch.

[FOUR] I wish I could share a picture about my sisters bridal shower, but it is a surprise for her [not when but all other deers]. I love planning parties and organizing, so while stressful it is also super fun. PLUS I have a pretty awesome group of gals working with me. It really is a bridal party dream team.

This is for her shower, she will see it before then, the junk is not for her shower it is just for life.

[FIVE] I still really love to cook. I remember BCL (before cooking Lily) would hear people say that and scoff at it. Because no one could love cooking. But now I love chopping and dicing and sautéing and browning...But mostly I love feeding people. Only I have few people to feed, so I need to work on finding more mouths.

[SIX] My sister got a new dog. And he is handsome. And wonderful. 

[SEVEN] Josh was given a chance to travel to California to take a training seminar at one of the componenet companies his shop sells. He was one of only two people from the state of Michigan to be invited. He was gone for four days, got to enjoy 60 degree weather while it snowed here, ate delicious food, and sat thru some techy training sessions that he loved. I am really proud of him for being invited to attend and that he received his certification. But I was more proud and happy that he returned, four days is a loooooonnnggg time in mama-only-in-charge time.

Our wedding song

I wish we had some great story about our wedding song

Music was a HUGE deal to me at our wedding, from the seating music to walking down the aisle to this song, so I expected to have a stellar first dance song. 

Only we couldn't agree on any thing. He is classic to my hipster, he is traditional to my never heard before choices. It was hard.

Our first dance on the patio at The Homestead

Finally one day I heard it. & with great luck he agreed. 

Know troubles they may come and go, 

But good times they're the gold.

So if the road gets rocky girl,

Just steady as we go.

Steady as We Go by Dave Matthews Band

The things you think..

The last three years have taught me a lot about what I thought I knew. I had certain ideas going into parenthood that I just knew would work out perfectly for us and our baby/babies. Oh of course it would be hard, I knew that. But it can't be that hard if I just stuck to my guns. I just knew it would work.

And then the baby came.

First, this one. 4.5 hours of pushing just to get him here, only for him to push me every day.

And out the window went those ideas. 

Never sleeping in our bed! HAHAHAHA, that is were you spent your first night on the outside. Nestled in my arms refusing to be anywhere else, not that I fought it. You would stay in our bed until you were nearly a year and a half old when you decided you did not sleep that well with us. 

Exclusively breastfeeding only! Wellllll, not so much. We tried. We gave it hell. We pumped, we fed on both sides, we consulted anddddd we supplemented. It just didn't work for us, no matter how hard we tried and how much we wanted. It just didn't work. 

Baby sign language! No Screen time! Stimulating environments! Organic, homemade baby food! Natural toys that only encourage creativity....! Sure a lot of this happened, but eventually it just didn't. 

But we made it. And Easton is a great kid. He is incredibly creative, has a great immune system, super active and well spoken. He made it... whew!

And then baby numero dos was on it's way. And back came the ideas. Lots of I will do better this time. I can do it! It will be WAY easier! 

And then the baby came.

Second. Fast and furious he came into the world, a gentle baby who found his voice and hasn't stopped using it.

Annnnnnddd, this baby was different. WAY different from his brother. Insatiable appetite, mama attached, sweet baby boy Hudson. He loved eating and being held, but wouldn't co-sleep. He fed every 2-3 hours for almost an hour each time, I couldn't keep up! He slept well and was always happy being held, snuggled, talked to. He was quiet and easy! He spit up more than Easton, but he was so easy compared to our little colicky needy first born. Around came round 2 of ideas.

He loved baby wearing, but much preferred baby holding. And just mama holding. He made it to 8 months breast fed, doesn't know a lick of sign language [not for not trying], He eats every thing but fruit, and he loves him some TV time. He learned to yell and n.e.v.e.r.stopped. 

But, we made it. And Hudson is a great kid. He is funny, always smiling and laughing. Loves running and playing with his brother. He is smart and silly. He made it.

There were so many things I wasn't going to do when I had kids, that I was so sure of when there were no kids. I wouldn't yell, I would teach them Spanish from day one, we would learn every day. I knew for sure things would go just as i planned. They wouldn't have any impact on our marriage and josh and I wouldn't have to work on us because of them. They would be perfectly behaved and always have manners, they would never hit or bite or scream. And neither would I, no yelling, time ins, and good kids.

And then they got here and got away with everything. They scream and bite and get time outs and toys taken away. They eat nugget shaped chicken, Easton has had sips of soda [Spicy! as he says & he much prefers water], there are days when they watch more than 20 minutes of tv. There are whole days where we don't go outside, or pick up toys, or eat veggies! Our marriage definitely suffered during those first years and we had to relearn how to be husband&wife as well as mom&dad! But we are making it. They are happy and healthy. They are smart and kind. They have manners and are well behaved. 

They are good kids.

And that was the hardest to learn. That even when my boys misbehave and act out, they are still good kids. Even when I am embarrassed and sure people are certain I should have NEVER had kids because look at them! They are still good kids. They have so much love to give and are loved by so many. They are special kids and I am lucky they are mine. 

Kids change things. They make life harder. They interrupt your perfect plans and disrupt your day. They create every feeling possible from anger to unconditional love. They come between marriages. They demand you are always mom or dad when you'd just like to be Lily or Josh's Wife sometimes. They make the simplest things complicated {can we eat here? Will they like anything on the menu? Can we just get them a huge order of fries?}. They change YOU. Completely. 

The person I was three years ago is not who I am today. I was selfish, needy, and self centered. I wasn't a great wife, sister or daughter. I thought only about what benefitted me. My concerns rarely reached beyond making me happy.

 Three years ago, I didn't understand parents. I certainly didn't get mine. Our relationships have been every where on the spectrum and I am/we are finally in a place where I get them. Even with a not typical childhood [is anything typical though, ours wasn't that out there but it still is different from some], I know now that they did all things out of love. They did all things for us. They did all things in our best interest. And while three years ago I couldn't get it; I most certainly do. Three years ago I could'nt say Thank you Mom & Dad, for always trying even when you had no clue what you were doing. For loving us when you didn't like us, for not giving up even when it seemed like you did. Thank you for loving us, you weren't as bad of parents as we told you you were. You taught us much and we are better people for all we have all been through. Love you!

Three years ago I didn't know what tired was, what sacrifice was, what earth shattering, car lifting, heart breaking, smile giving, kiss loving LOVE was. I didn't know what I was capable of. What I could be put through. What I could give in to. What I could give. I have learned that my true path begins with giving and loving and caring for my family. I relish the moments living in the magic they see in the world. I love my house being filled with the people I love, eating the food I've made, laughing with those that I love; it fills my heart and my world. I love this life I have because of them. 

They have changed me.

Knowing is half the battle.

Today. Whoa. Let me tell you about today, this week. [this post was started Saturday, but the attitudes have continued so far]

Was it horrible?
Was it awful?
Was it the worst ever?

No.

Did the kids cry and scream nonstop?
Did they get into things they shouldn't have?
Fight most of the day?
Refuse naps?
Spill waters?
Just be overall boogers? 
Tap into their inner vikings and wage war on their mamas psyche? 
Yes. Yes, YES.

Josh has been out of town for work since Sunday and I have thankfully had the haven of spending some time at my sister & brother-in-laws house to break up the day, But the usually fun times had there haven't happened thanks to the cranky monster children I've been toting along [worlds.longest.run.on...] Both the boys realized it was just me and proceeded to unleash some real amazing behavior, including biting, fighting, screaming, whining all day and general loveliness... We've been on walks and drives, built forts and bubble baths; all ending in tears from most parties. Couple all this with the fact that our basement keeps getting water in it and it smells so musty, plus my overall yuck mood lately and it has sucked..

BUT, It really hasn't been the worst ever, but sometimes certain things make it seem like that. Those certain things called feelings... Just when I start to think I'm falling back into a rhythm, something always happens to make me feel insignificant, or insecure or..another in-prefixed feeling word.

And I never see it coming. I will be trucking along doing my mom-wife thing and then BAM! I start getting really, really down. I feel like I'm sinking and like everyone around me just stops and watches it happen. Even though that isn't how it happens, no one else sees what's going on. Nothing changes outwardly [that I know of] I just feel down. Like I am doing everything wrong.

There are always a handful of breakdowns, a bucket of tears and a laundry list of complaints hurled at Josh via iComplain texts and verbal attacks once he hits our subdivision.

I end up spending two weeks wallowing and general boo-hooing. Feeling miserable about not being a better mom/wife/friend/sister, but still trying to do everything that I need to get done. I get mopey and cranky. I parent horribly and I wife even worse. My sleep schedule gets thrown off and junk food becomes my BFF and gettin some exersize/walking/moves, well just forget it. Which only makes it worse. These last few days have been incredibly trying, my body and mind ache. I'm quicker to give up and give in. I quit fighting it and just sink. 

Usually, I recognize most of what is happening to me about a week in to my reign as Queen Negative Nancy. Josh and I argue more about nothing [seriously the worlds most trivial things: why don't you pull the car into the garage right?!?! You fold towels wrong!!], I yell more at the kids, I mope and lack at housework [which only gives me WORSE anxiety]. I turn inward and self pick. It's hard to see the forrest for the trees in these moments. And even though I know that it's happening, it doesn't make it any easier to figure out how to pull out of the funk. I see the things happening, the pieces falling into place, yet still remain down here. 

It isn't always like this. There are far more times that life is great. We love, we laugh, we play, we enjoy. The boys wont always fight and will play nicely, quiet in their room playing pirates. Josh and I wont argue and will go back to loving each others quirks and celebrating our differences. Our basement wont always be wet and soon snow will disappear and grass will grow, sun will shine and we will run through the woods laughing. I know there will be days that are better, days without tears, days that end with a smile and a "we're so lucky" before bed. I know the boys aren't suffering and they don't hate me. I know Josh isn't always mad at me when he gets home. I know these are small drops in the bucket, that it isn't always easy and we will get through all of it. I know this is my life and I wouldn't have it any other way.