About Blank.

I am not exactly sure what this means in the computer world, but I know it is very similar to how I am feeling this week.

Blank.

Not sure why I am feeling this way, possibly because there is SO much going on right now, that I have shut down.

I tried to shut it down yesterday. Needed a RESTART button. I felt like I had to force myself to be happy when I woke up yesterday.

I did try.

And then I crumbled. I cried.

And cried some more. I don’t think I have cried that much in a while.

Then I just felt numb…

Blank. Void. Empty.

I thought maybe I should try to blog it out…get it all out in verbal diarrhea. But in the blankness, I felt like I have been failing at blogging as well…so why bother.

Woe is me…

I wanted to kick myself in the shins and tell myself to buck up. But I couldn’t. I needed to get it out. I haven’t felt that out of control of my feelings in a while…I would try to go about my day, so I didn’t keep upsetting the little ones…and the big kids too. They were great and supportive but it brought them down too. It wasn’t fair.

But I had to. 

There truly is so much going on right now, that I think I had been holding it all back for so long, that it erupted like a volcano. Oozing tears and sobs all day long.

I am okay now.

I needed those tears to wash away all of the stress and denial that I had been avoiding…the reality.

Life has been changing in this house at warp speed…high school graduations, college plans for two teens, countless summer jobs and schedules, sickness, cancer, family struggles, a growing business…it might seem petty compared to other problems that people are facing, but it hit me hard…all of us. But I guess, me being the most emotional in the house, I sucked it all up for the team.

I cried a little a graduation on Monday night, but it really and truly didn’t hit me until yesterday.

How different our lives will be in a few short weeks…forever.

The biggest blow has been with my in-laws…I came to realize how much I took them for granted…babysitting our kids at the drop of a hat…showing up for any and all things family-related…stepping in with preparations for parties days before and making food and treats for all occasions…and just simply always loving us unconditionally.

I have always known they love us and support us unconditionally, but not as much as until yesterday…maybe it is because I felt like I needed them right now…but they cannot be here. They just can’t. I wouldn’t dare ask them.

They have more important challenges right now, and a long road ahead…

My whining about all this despair and misery pales in comparison to what they are dealing with right now…shame on me.

But I had to.

I will not allow myself to feel guilty about this anymore…I had to find clarity and wash away all the confusion and muck in my brain.

I did it.

I woke up today feeling better…not great, but manageable. I am putting my best foot forward. I recharged my batteries on the beach today with my little ones, with the glorious sun blazing and a light ocean breeze keeping us cool…

I am not blank anymore…

I am blessed.

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Tired.

I am whooped.

All the time.

I am pretty sure the only time I ever sit is to go to the bathroom or write a blog.

From 5:30-ish (depending on how many times I can hit snooze without causing a panic attack) in the morning, until I lay down with my little ones at 8:30 at night…I do not stop moving. I keep expecting to pass by a mirror and see a Cindy Crawford type body…

But it is still me…

Frazzled, droopy-eyed, flabby me.

That’s okay…I have slightly accepted middle age…minus my thinning hair, constant confusion, stress, and of course…exhaustion.

I do not ever remember being so tired before kids. I know I do not sleep well, but never have since I was little.

Even when I worked seven days a week at two jobs and then went out late to the bars with friends, I was not this tired.

I know I hear many people swear that a nice glass of wine or cocktail can help with a good night’s sleep…not working on this lady! Even two or three sometimes have zero effect on this mommy.

I pump myself full of vitamins and supplements daily, eat better than ever…

Except for my terrible addiction to pork roll.

Maybe I should just accept that the ten minute cat nap occasionally as I get my toddler to nap, or the twenty minutes of dozing off as I try to read a book to the little ones at bedtime, is all I really need at this point in my life.

I read once that Martha Stewart only sleeps like four hours a night…I could handle that. 

I could get ALL the laundry done AND folded, make lunches, dust, answer emails, write a blog more than once a week, prep meals…just no vacuuming…that wouldn’t be fair to a house full of peacefully sleeping kids and hubby.

Maybe even slowly build an empire based on early morning crafts/baking/organizing…

Or maybe not.

I don’t want to be up at four in the morning anymore than any other mom reading this…

I would love peace and quiet occasionally, and less clutter, AND sleep…

But I will settle for maybe five or six hours tonight since I just got the laundry all done AND put away, vacuumed (half the house), and cleaned up dinner ALL before bedtime…

I deserve that extra half hour of slumber tonight.

And hitting snooze a few times.

Potty Talk.

I feel like I lost my funny side.

So much heartache and sadness as of late seems to have made me not so funny.

Or maybe I never was funny…

I always thought I had a slightly humorous side to me, especially in a dark moment to bring some light.

But I am THAT girl…the one who always forgets the punch line…or the end of a knock knock joke.  Which seems to make my family and friends laugh more…I am the official spoiler of a good joke!

I may not be the next Ellen DeGeneres, but at least my kids are funny…and our son? Now HE is funny.

I won’t tell him this now, for fear he will be the class clown at a young age.

But he is also the only one that REALLY thinks I am funny, so he holds a special place in my heart for laughing at all things Mommy.

He is three and loves potty talk, so any word like fart/poop/butt make him roll on the floor with giggles…

My hubby, you would think some days, might be three as well…he also loves potty talk…he too will roll on the floor with laughter with fart jokes and poopy songs…

I, however, am not a huge fan of bathroom related humor.

I am the potty talk snob, I guess.

My three year old’s favorite word right now is “diarrhea”…which was probably learned from one of his father’s self-penned songs about bowel movements.

Our son literally will say the word diarrhea over…and over. AND over. To the point where yesterday, I pulled him aside and said this needs to stop. Mommy doesn’t like this word and potty talk is not nice…Your teacher next year will NOT be happy with potty talk…he laughed.

Am I surprised? Nope.

He has the unfortunate talent of twerking as well (his older sisters teaching him this as soon as he was able to walk) and now he has a growing audience of twelve cousins/siblings and all of their friends who laugh and post videos on social media at his antics. He breaks out the twerk dance moves and screams ” diarrhea-butthead-poopy face!!!” and makes them all start howling with laughter and pulling cell phones out to film for yet another snapchat story…he is breaking into the performing arts at a young age.

We are in trouble. BIG trouble.

I can hear my phone ringing in September…caller ID showing my son’s preschool number.

“He did WHAT?!! Noooo…not our little man. Are you sure?!!” Twerking on tabletops screaming DIARRHEA???!!!

Oh yes…that is my son (as my voice lowers to almost a whisper, full of embarrassment).

Did I say BIG trouble?

Nipping this one in the bud by the end of the summer…we will slowly fade out of potty talk and more into ABC’s and 123’s (or my hubby’s cell number will be first on the list for Emergency Contact Phone Numbers at preschool).

It feels good to write about something senseless…even though it may become a big problem for us as parents with a toddler who soaks up more trash talk than Spongebob.

Potty talk will probably always be hanging around this house since all of our kids have my husband’s sense of humor, thankfully. They are becoming pretty well-adjusted, well-mannered young people…and can still come home and left off some steam (or gas) with some good potty jokes with Dad…

There are bigger woes in life for us right now, and potty talk may not be appropriate, but if it makes them laugh right now…it can stay…

Until preschool starts.

One Year.

One year is a long time.

365 days.

8,760 hours.

525,600 minutes.

And so on.

That IS a lot of time.

But what if?

What if someone said…that is all you’ve got left…

That’s it.

Well, then I am counting seconds too…31,556,926 seconds.

Each and every thousand of them.

And hoping that there is more than that…but if not? What would I do?

Well, knowing my weepy self…cry for atleast 12 of those hours…maybe steal a few more.

But on the hour I DO decide to stop feeling sorry myself, I will hopefully realize this…

I was just given  a gift.

My greedy butt was just given the Golden Ticket.

I would now know that I just wasted 43,200 seconds feeling sorry for myself. That I had places to go and people to see, and could have been half way to Disney with my family in the amount of time I spent blowing my nose and wiping my tears away.

So now that I have realized the Gift that has been given to me…the all-knowing…the fortune teller…the life sentence…whatever I compare it to…it came into my life for reason.

I will be THAT person…

I will travel, snuggle, kiss, hug, love hard, clean my house less, laugh more, get sad less.

I can be sad, but why? I know that each snuggle with my babies or husband means even more now…I should have known that before…but I didn’t…who truly does?

Those giggles or games of hide and seek with my kids, or seeing their faces light up one more time when they see Mickey Mouse or their favorite Princess at Disney, or when we pack up for a long full day at the beach…and then they all collapse…a sweet deep sleep after fresh sea air, hearts and bellies content and so full of love, and happiness. And I would stand over them, and be able to smile…and maybe shed another tear or two…as I realize that these are the moments that count…making memories of joy and happiness.

And even when the bad days might come, reminding my self that the Golden Ticket was given to me for a reason…

That I need to make amends…fight it out and make up…stop giving twenty second hugs…make them forty.

This is my fantasy plan of one year.

It is isn’t fair for anyone to ever receive that message…when someone has hopes and dreams and deserves to see them unfold just like any other person does…but it does happen.

I promise myself, that if it ever does…

I WILL let myself cry at all the things I may miss out on.

Then smile…and realize that every second counts… I will make the most of each and every moment...all 31556926 seconds of them.