Anxiety.

Anxiety.

It overwhelms me. Last night was the worst in a long time. I lost three hours of sleep because of it.

Alone with my thoughts and not sure what to do with myself…

My husband took our kids to his Mother’s for a visit..an overnight.

It was a gift to me…something I am always wishing for, or complaining that I never have time to myself, to do what I want, whenever I want…

Well, my wish came true. I had almost two whole days alone to do whatever I wanted.

I admit, I sat here, in front of the t.v. thinking that was what I really wanted, even though I had requested this time alone to “get stuff done” around the house.

I sat in front the t.v. wasting an hour of my time thinking that was one thing I never get to do…watch whatever I want. I zoned out like a moron, not finding anything remotely enjoyable to satisfy the need for something other than cartoons and cooking shows.

So I got motivated…I cleaned out closets and did laundry, and dusted…I was very productive for hours...then went to dinner with some family and really enjoyed myself…I didn’t have to take anyone to the bathroom at the restaurant or cut someone else’s food or be interrupted in my conversations. It was enjoyable.

Until I fell sound asleep, thanks to a few cocktails and a full belly and lots of cleaning all afternoon…I knew I would sleep well.

Or so I had hoped.

I woke at three a.m., heart racing feeling dizzy and confused. Why was I sleeping on the sofa? Where was everyone? I realized I was alone.

Just me.

I thought of every happy thought I could bring to mind…put on a bad sitcom…checked in on my blog to see my stats rising after having it re-blogged for the first time…

Nothing would shake it.

Anxiety…panic…whatever you want to call it…it wasn’t leaving.

It makes me jittery now just remembering how freaked out and bad my anxiety got.

I am terrified to be alone.

I used to live alone for a few years, and I loved it. That was pre-marriage and pre-kids…but still…I did it before, so why can’t I do it now? Why cant I enjoy it like I did then? Because someday in the future, all the kids will be gone-off to explore themselves create their own lives.

and I will have my husband, but there will be times when I will be alone again…and that causes me even more anxiety to think I may hate it or fear it.

This is who I am now, I guess…so deal with it…buck up woman!

But I don’t want anxiety…I want to feel peaceful and calm and enjoy life…

Maybe I need to do it more often so it isn’t such a scary thing…but for now…

I survived the night…I am very tired and rattled today, but thankful that my family returns today and will have a full house again…

Until we meet again, Anxiety.

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Clean House.

I DO appreciate a clean house.

My house is rarely ever spic and span clean, but occasionally it is for about an hour.  Today is my cleaning day…not a beach day or errand day…but a much needed cleaning day.

Yes we load/unload the dishwasher daily. And fold mountains of clothes daily…even scrub the bathroom multiple times per week with seven people in one tiny house…but clean clean weekly?

Nope.

Haven’t done this kind of cleaning in months.

Dust has moved in almost permanently as well as cat hair on literally every piece of furniture and somehow lampshade.

Organizing? Forget it…

Almost every drawer and closet is filled to capacity with misplaced items shoved in wherever they will fit.

Clean houses don’t seem to go hand in hand with busy lives…we shove things away to make the small living spaces look tidy, as we run out the door for the tenth time in a day. I may even occasionally use a dirty dish towel to dust off a few table surfaces as I walk the towels up to the laundry basket. If I am lucky, I will hit all three tables I pass by on my way up the stairs, if not too distracted with the twenty pairs of shoes/books/papers/bags piled on each step on my way up the stairs.

In my distraction up to the laundry, I may even notice the clumps of ever-growing cat hairs on the stairs, and blow them down with my breath to the landing (so then they are more consolidated) or use my now very dusty dish towel to shoo them down below.

Entering the hall bathroom where all the laundry hides in the closet, I come across wet towels and clothing strewn across the floor, then see the closet oozing with more wet towels and clothes as if it vomited dirty clothes all over the floor.

I remind myself daily that all these chores can be done quickly if all seven of us pitched in one day a week (along with the bickering of who-did-what-and-when and that they collected the trash already this week or did the dishes)instead of me giving up a whole day on the weekend…then I remind myself of these weekends…

My clean house weekends…just me, and some of my music, cleaning and schlepping up and down the stairs for hours…it sounds like torture, but for some reason, in my weird motherly way…its almost like a much needed Mommy Timeout.

I crave these days...for dusting to be an actual completed task, not just one or two tables at a time…the laundry done and put away…at least for one day.

To sit back when I am all finished, with a cocktail in hand (trust me…by the time I am done, it will be five o’clock here too) and actually seeing order in a very lived-in chaotic world.

But in all honesty, I am starting to appreciate the messy days here as well, as two of the kids leave for college very soon…they will take some these messes with them, but also some of my heart.

My house will be a little less messy but also a lot more quiet.

I am excited for the future and watching our children grow into individuals, but I am already beginning to miss what I have today…

A very dusty/ messy/ loud home…

But also full of life and love.

Abandoned.

I know the feeling of abandonment so I am not sure why I cannot keep myself focused and blog on.

My poor blog left empty and alone…

Life is absolutely insane these days, but I still manage to not abandon my kids, or work, or the mountain of clothes that have appeared yet AGAIN waiting to be folded as soon as I finish this…

Honestly, i don’t know if I feel as guilty as I am portraying here, or just looking for a reason to have a blog about Abandonment.

I truly do know what it feels like, as do many people I know…for me it has been emotional AND physical abandonment that silently tortures me and my ability to trust people.

Most children from divorce or adoption or foster care can relate.

I can write volumes about this topic from a divorce perspective, but I won’t because we all have our journey to acknowledge or hide from after someone leaves us selfishly forever.

Its just been nagging at me lately. A LOT.

We have unofficially adopted a young man into our life/home/family about eight months ago. We have known him for years, and have slowly learned of his story of abandonment…absolute physically and emotionally left to figure out life on his own. Even after adoption, his story makes mine seem so pathetic…I cannot tell his story but can share what he has added to our lives.

His is a remarkable one though…after all his pain and suffering, and picking up the pieces slowly as he got older, realizing his life just wasn’t right and filled with voids, he persevered through high school (as did his brothers) and got himself a full ride into a state college. He worked hard all through high school and his jobs, and finally had enough with the void…he needed to be needed…he needed to be loved.

Me too.

I am an adult now, and have learned to accept all that went bad in my childhood and even as an adult. I have had many years to digest this, and slowly heal and learn from it.

Abandonment is a topic fresh on my brain because of this young man…we want him to finally never have to worry about how it feels to be alone…ever again. He will always have a home with us, a shoulder to cry on, or a birthday celebration/holiday/Sunday dinner to come home for.

Most of my family has accepted him into their lives and hearts, and for those who have not…oh well…your loss. ALL of our children have something different and amazing to offer this world…all FIVE of them.

And the same can be said for that person who broke my heart yet again, after years of rebuilding trust and that our relationship would never be broken again…oh well…YOUR loss.

As well as the now fourteen grandchildren left behind to figure out what happened…some who will never even know his face or name or the memories the older children had made together with him…that were obviously not real or genuine. Otherwise, those memories and innocent hearts would have been worth sticking around for (kinda like me when I was five)…some of these kids are now adults and can make up their own minds if they will ever give him the time of day. And the others will have to wait until they too are adults, because I will not utter his name ever again…

You left me  once, shame on you.

I let you leave me again…

Shame on me.

That void in my heart is filled now with loving a child who needs to be loved…

WE will never leave him.

Fear.

We all have a little of it. Or if you are anything like me, a lot.

I am afraid of everything.  Spiders, flying, heights, death…

Nothing too out of the ordinary in the fear department,  but enough to leave my nerves raw at times.

I get it...when I am outside, that is a spider’s home so they will forever exist…as long as they are outside. I didn’t invite them for a visit or even to dinner…so amscray!

Flying I have been told is safer than driving…not sure I buy that one in this day and age of missing aircrafts and terrorism, but from a safety standpoint,  fine. And associating turbulence with a bumpy road in a car helps calm my nerves…sometimes.

The heights thing…well this one is just plain annoying/gut-wrenching/knee-shaking fear. I’m embarrassed to admit the second floor in the mall terrifies me. My kids are gently warned to stay away from the railing(probably more because if they had a problem over there, I would not be able to help) and just leave Mama be…nonchalantly hugging the windows and walls as we slowly make our way to a destination.

Death.  Well, the other fears just look ridiculous when comparing them to this one.

Death freaks me out more now as a mother and wife than ever before.

I fear getting sick and leaving my children too soon. I fear my husband getting sick and leaving me jobless and with a house full of kids and broken hearts.

I fear accidents that could alter our world in any given moment to any of our loved ones or even myself.

I fear loss...loss of a loved one so dear.

I have lost many loved ones…and it never gets easier. Never.

But losing someone or thinking it could be me or my husband, is just simply unbearable.

My fears, I am learning (even as I write this), are based on lack of control…I don’t know how to fly a plane, or keep bugs away, or stop my head from spinning when I get up too high.

I can conquer them in one way…

Never fly again. Squash every spider that enters my house. Never go to the second floor in the mall again.

I could maybe even conquer my fear of death…do not allow myself to love or get close to anyone, for fear of losing them. To give up on my health and do whatever I want, eat whatever I want and just stop worrying about it all…

Become numb to everything around me.

It is possible…

I may not be a scaredy cat anymore by becoming numb, but I will be all alone…

With lots of memories…

Like the countless times of running scared when seeing a spider in my house and my kids running in circles around me, laughing as I climb up on a sofa to get away from that tiny little bugger…

Or of when I would have to stop and grab onto a wall like Spiderman in the mall as panic sets in (looking like a complete weirdo), glaring at my husband and kids who were trying to be supportive and steer clear of me, but not hiding their giggles as they watch my discreet web-slinging action along the windows of countless storefronts.

Or maybe even forget about all the amazing trips we took together as a family, exploring the world together, or even flying yet again last week (after years of mentally blocking out the possibility of ever flying again) and meeting the most inspiring woman I could ever imagine sitting next to on a plane…

Trying to forget all these strange yet beautiful memories shared with my loved ones…

I could do all of that and let fear control me…and it might actually work…

Or even worse…

Waste more precious time being afraid…

Instead of realizing I should have just lived.

The End.

It shows up at the end of a movie. Or even a book. It happens after enjoying a warm cup of coffee. Or delicious sweet treat.

It happens.

It comes in all shapes and forms.

And then there is the end…

The one people don’t like to talk about. It stirs up emotions stronger than most of us like to ever feel.

It is hard even when it is expected…after a long beautiful life of up’s and down’s, laughter, sadness, joy…

But sometimes I don’t finish that cup of coffee…it sits till it gets cold and I wind up dumping it out and regretting that I didn’t get to finish all of it…that I didn’t allow myself the time to embrace the moment of me and my cup of coffee.

Or even that book that I was so anxious to read…I get distracted and cannot follow all the stuff in between and jump to the end.

I shouldn’t do that.

The “stuff” in between is what creates the end. The building blocks that supports that story.

Or the cup of coffee that sometimes needs to be enjoyed quietly, reflecting on the day ahead and days passed.

Life brings the end too soon all too often.

And sometimes unexpectedly.

We get caught up in the daily grind and forget about all those pages in between. I do it all the time.

My daughter’s teacher died yesterday very unexpectedly.

Our daughter, as well as all of her classmates and school are in absolute shock.

I didn’t know what to say to my child who lay on the floor sobbing. I knew this amazing woman, but only briefly.

She taught agriculture to my child and countless others over her many years as a teacher…

When our daughter came to us last year and said she wanted to take agriculture instead of what she had planned all along to take ( our kids attend a Technical high school where they take regular high school classes along with learning a vocation of their choice), we laughed.

No! Why  are you changing at the last minute? You won’t even help weed our gardens or sit outside…is how the conversation kind of went.

She told us of this teacher and how much she enjoyed the way she taught and loved her students.

We caved.

And ever since the first day of school, my beautiful daughter could not bare to miss the beginning of school when she had this teacher…My daughter, as well as many of her students, were so close with her that they would call and text her…or the teacher would call them if they were sick or out to check in on them. So when the teacher didn’t show up to school yesterday and they all tried to call her and it went to voicemail, they knew something was wrong…so very wrong.

She called them all her “children” and nurtured their souls not only with teaching about how to create life through plants and how to grow beautiful flowers, but through laughter and treats…especially pie.

I believe everything happens for a reason…my daughter was meant to grow to love this teacher and learn from her. This will change our child forever, but she will learn from it and grow.

It is too soon to tell her this…I know that much to be true.

But this woman, it seems to us on the outside looking in, didn’t get a fair shot…didn’t get to finish reading that book or enjoy one more donut with her class, or even sit back and enjoy that last sip of coffee…

Maybe she did…

Maybe she was content with each day she was gifted with her “children” and how they made her laugh and how she got to watch their faces light up in amazement at the beauty of blossoming flowers in Spring can be…

Utah.

Utah-you suck.

Sorry for being mean.

But my blog is based on karma, so I felt it necessary to say how I feel about something. This something being Utah.  Although now that I say it out loud, I fear the outcome.

See, Utah and my family have a strange relationship. Never been there. Not sure I really want to ever go either.  But my husband has to travel there at least once a year for business-so he has no choice.

And every time he goes, the shit hits the fan(pardon the language)…and this time I mean that, literally. Almost fifteen years of what I feel as bad luck with Utah.  He goes, we stay behind and wait for his return.  He goes and has much success, I stay and clean up messes. LOTS of messes.

I have no ill feelings towards Utah in general…just the yin and yang of it all is starting to drive me mad.

He goes.

We stay.

But only when he is in Utah, do things really get nutty. Never good stuff. Always frustrating, heartbreaking, nail biting stuff.

I can go as far to say children have been hospitalized, countless illnesses, money woes, family fights, cars breaking down even death…you name it, it has happened.

I say yin and yang when I refer to this trip to Utah, because I am mentally using this to find clarity in all the madness I am dealing with over the past week…doctor’s visits, vomit, diarrhea, countless diapers to change, antifreeze oozing out of my daughter’s car, snow, fevers, and just the daily grind of getting people to and fro…with sick kids in tow and one car down.

With each trip, not  just Utah (but especially Utah), I am forced to find my village of people that will stand by me, to help aid in one disaster or another…some days all at once. I have depended on family and some friends each time…for this, I am grateful. It is a running joke in my immediate circle of supporters that my husband “must be in Utah” when things rapidly spiral out of control…and yet it is funny that when he is home,  we (me and my tribe and hardworking hubby) are all able to sit around and  enjoy a cocktail and laugh at all the bizarre and annoying events during Utah week (and how everyone and everything seem to fall back into place/heal once it is over)…

Poor Salt Lake…I truly do not know you, and I have already passed judgement on you…

I am hoping there is balance at the end of this tunnel that is clogged with crap.  My husband is having an extremely successful trip…I know this to be true.  With suffering, there will be relief…at some point.

Are there more pressing problems in the world that are bigger than what I am dealing with? Sure. But right now, ok maybe at least last night, I wanted to throw in the towel. I had had enough blows for one week.

But today is a new day, and my husband comes home tomorrow. We can rejoice in his success and celebrate. Then we will- together, attack each challenge and try to move forward.

.       He is my yin, and I am his yang.

As corny as it sounds, we need each other. We find balance within ourselves when together…and I guess that is maybe why I had an epiphany while writing this…

I do not hate Utah, I love it. It brings balance to my life…it makes things clear to us as to why we are working so hard to move forward. Appreciating all our hard work-and bad days to be able to love the good ones…

Thank you, Utah…you just made my day.

The Quiet.

Kittens nibbling on dry food. A fan spinning. Me typing.  The only sounds I hear in my house right now. It is quiet in this house.  Too quiet.

I am not accustomed to this lack of sound.  I am usually daydreaming about what it is like, while washing dishes or cooking, or attempting to ignore bickering children over a too loud t.v.

It seems peaceful enough.  But not sure how much I like it.  I have ( scattered and disconnected) lists and ideas in my brain of what life will be like someday when the kids are grown and gone…Complete silence filling the void of giggles/crying/fighting/singing, and messes to be cleaned up (toys, snacks on the carpet or sofa or pans needing to be scrubbed-and mountains of laundry to fold everyday) replaced with…well, I am not so sure.

I guess with all this quiet, I am afraid that I might not really have anything to do…for myself or others. No school/sports schedules to distract me, or errands to run with kids in tow, or endless trips to doctor appointments and the pharmacy for latest virus or bug. As I drive endlessly, and clean and space out while making a meal or folding clothes yet again, I remember the gadzillion things I would LOVE to be doing at this moment, if I just had a free second or hour or day to myself, but like this moment right now as I sit in a quiet house after my amazing husband (see previous Blog) decided to give me some “alone” time after he was away for almost a week, I thankfully had SOMETHING to do other than cleaning… this.

I like this writing business. Not sure if I am very good at it, but it fulfills a need to vent or feel creative while I am shoving a meal in my mouth or having a quick cup of coffee while the kids watch a show or play.  Not sure if it will help in the future when those quiet days are everyday vs. an occasional gift…but for now, it helps.

I assume that those quiet days in my future will hopefully be filled with me in a self-discovery time…of hobbies started that I always wanted to try, getting myself in shape and eating well ( even though I am doing that hardcore right now), going back to school, and maybe some pampering…but even after I do all those things, I still come home to this…I am kind of bored/scared of it already but will soak it up, because in about an hour an army of hungry, cranky children will walk through my door with lots of demands and homework and baths to get done…

So I will relish this moment with a purring kitten that is snuggled up now next to me, my feet up, and doing whatever I want after I hit “Publish”…