Tag Archives: challenges

Abandoned.

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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…

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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.

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About Blank.

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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.

A Few Good Men.

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I don’t usually write two posts in one day, but  I just have to.

There are a few good men in my life. I won’t name any names, but they know who they are. Well, except for my three year old, since he cannot read this yet…but he knows I adore him.

We have faced some serious challenges recently…but none nearly as bad as some of my favorite men…

I love them. They love me…unconditionally. Some may not be blood, but I have grown to realize this does not matter anymore…it is who sticks around, even when things get tough, that matter most.

And they matter…a lot.

It is not my journey or my story to tell for these men, but all I can do is let them know this…

I love them…I really and truly love them with all of my heart.

They watched me grow from a dark and confused young woman, into a frazzled and loving mother and wife.

They have listened to me cry, and fight and whine and suffer.

They have hugged me and loved me even when they thought I was wrong.

There may be distance between us now…but only in miles, not feelings.

I love them with all of my heart for loving me, and my husband and my family unconditionally.

They are good, good solid men.

They have been hurt, but continued to stand tall. They have loved and lost, but still stand strong in their hearts…

I will love these men till the day I die…

My little guy has a handful of amazing role models and some big shoes to fill…but he can do it…

He is learning well.

Anxiety.

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Anxiety.

Do I already have a blog titled this?

I feel like I may…

Or maybe it is because it is a running theme in my life.  Regardless, I am riddled with it this morning.

Anxiety.

I am packing up for five days to go on trip with my husband…alone…without our five kids.

Venting quickly through my blog before my mad dash to get the kiddies off to school, finish my lists, charts, and graphs laid out for my mother and sister and the kids.

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Crossing off every little thing on my lists, and maybe do it again.

Then I stop and wonder how jet-setters like celebrities fly…

Constantly?!

Leaving their families and children behind to bop around the globe daily, like I do around town to the grocery store and dropping kids off at practice or games in my suburban…

I am in awe…I would need large doses of my chill pills on a daily basis to make it anywhere out of state.

I love to travel.

Yet hate flying.

I had no fear as a teenager about traveling. I flew to Austria ALONE when I was seventeen…not even a travel buddy or group tour…I did it. No anxiety. No fear. No nothing.

But for some reason, that thought of that girl I was back then now gives me anxiety as well.

I am a wreck…flying south for five days for some much needed rest and relaxation (and apparently in need of some mental diffusing) but also have a work event to distract me…I do need to go…

I probably have a large ulcer with all this anxiety.

I am a worry wart. I hate this about me, because I truly do know how to have fun.

I will let it go when I get home safely next week and kiss my babies and everyone is happy, healthy and safe…

Don’t know if my husband would appreciate my last comment…I need to let it go…now for him…for us…for me.

We have so much going on right now on the home front, I feel guilt leaving, and anxious to get back…

But all parties agree (I may be seeing their point as I write this), that we need this getaway…badly.  Life has been full lately…lots of good stuff, and then some pretty bad stuff as well…

But there is nothing I can do to make all of it go away.

Except maybe cry…get it out…finish packing…and let it go…

This is dedicated to the army of family we have recruited to help us take this trip…and to those who would help if they could…

Cartwheels.

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Cartwheels.

My eight year old daughter loves to do cartwheels.

I remember loving to do them as well when I was young. We spent countless hours outside riding bikes, making mud pies, doing cartwheels.

My little girl has finally mastered the cartwheel. After years of trying, and falling on her bottom, she can do it with ease…not always gracefully, but with confidence.

On Mother’s Day, I decided to show off to my little girl…and attempt a cartwheel…I have not stood in position to do this in probably thirty years…I was excited…adrenaline pumping!

I did it!

And then did it again!

With my new found healthy outlook, I thought it was something I could do again…or not.

I pulled something in the back of my leg and I am still feeling it today.

I posted something on Facebook about my silly attempt and found words of encouragement…”If a 40 something mom can still do a cartwheel- flip away!!”…  if a woman my age can still do a cartwheel, then that is an accomplishment!

Me being a pessimist, didn’t see it that way…

But things change. I was very wrong. If I can do a cartwheel with my own two legs…If I can be outside in the sunshine and running around with my kids on a beautiful Mother’s Day…If I can break bread with my loved ones and not worry about what I am eating…If I can take the time to sit down and write about trivial things…then I am blessed.

I am lucky to be a Mother…I am fortunate to have found good health again… I am blessed to be able to do a cartwheel.

Many little things and a few BIG things brought me to this moment of clarity…

I take too much for granted.

Even if for just a moment, I can stop and appreciate these little gifts, then it was worth the pulled muscle or indigestion or being frazzled at juggling all the day’s events…

I actually DID a cartwheel again.

Thank you, Marley.

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When I’m 57…

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My baby boy will eighteen.  My oldest will be going on thirty-three.

My oldest randomly text-ed me this unnerving question the other day, as she lay poolside in warm and sunny Florida on Spring Break…while I was here on  the home front, caring for the little ones and managing the house.

“Have you ever thought how old your gonna be when Chance JUST graduates high school?? Not even college yet!”198684_4766656609542_1856966002_n

I gasped when I first read it…

What on Earth was my beautiful, eighteen year old daughter thinking by asking me this question???

I shared the question on Facebook, only because it was so insane at that moment, I needed some motherly backup…reassuring me that yes indeed my kid was rude and inconsiderate.

How are we to send her off to college in a few months and let her live in the city on her own, when she doesn’t even know one of the basic skills of life...think before you speak…or text.

Later that night, I laughed about it.

Not because I thought it was funny, but because I overreacted.

My daughter was starting to ponder life…the big bad world that lies before her. She was genuinely concerned at how old I may be when my youngest is her current age…maybe because she thought I may be crippled or too fragile by then to help him through his senior prom and graduation.

And help pack up his things and ship him off to college fifteen years from now…

Or maybe even whether I may be alive…maybe she hasn’t yet grasped different stages in life and aging, not realizing that 57 is still pretty young in our world.

When she returns from her mini Spring Break in Florida with her Grandparents, I may have to pull her aside and ask her what provoked such a thought.

Until then, I will take this Forty-something old body that is a little sore at the moment, but healing and getting healthier everyday (all due to my new way of eating and lifestyle so I live to be a hundred), and continue folding mountains of laundry, sort through the explosion of summer clothes that my teenage girls dug through for their last-minute getaway, and wait for my husband to come home from yet another trip to give me a “mommy time-out”…

I am told I will miss these crazy days someday, when all the kiddos have moved on to college/jobs/starting their own lives…

I probably will after my 57 year old body locks the front door, takes my bra off through my sleeve, throws it on the ceiling fan, cracks open a chilled bottle of wine and blasts some Duran Duran like the free spirit I once was…

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a long, long time ago, in a galaxy far away…

Pinning Things And P.M.S.

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Pinning Things And P.M.S.

Warning: This blog is written by my alter ego, who shows up

once a month for an unwanted visit…sometimes staying a little longer than we want her too.

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She is rude, annoying, and causes upheaval in my household every time she visits.

I promise to not let her get a hold of my blog again in the future.

I never knew Pinterest could be so therapeutic.

I just sat in silence for ten minutes pinning the heck out of stuff on Pinterest in search for a recipe to fulfill a craving  that my alter ego is in search of, instead I wound up looking into a cure for why I am so cranky today.

I honestly do know why I am cranky right now…

AND why my two teenage daughters are as well…

“We’re All In This Together”

 

(insert sarcasm and catchy teen movie music)

 

For years it was about three weeks of hell-taking turns p.m.s.’ing in this house. One of us down for the count, then another…and another.

Tip-toeing around each other, trying to be supportive yet cursing each other out under our breath.

And then we started that beautiful, yet wicked balance of hormonal harmony… How exciting for my husband and friends and family…be done with it all around the same time, and then our true sweet selves come home as the alter egos pack their bags and leave.

When I am not p.m.s.’ing, I truly do sympathize with my husband and the other males in our lives for all that we put them through on our hormonal roller coaster rides.

I do.

Not today…but maybe in a week or two I will care again. Because right now, I swear at some points in the day, I truly think there is Male P.M.S.

 In actuality, this is obviously just them reacting to our charming alter ego.

So back to the grand world of pinning stuff…there are dozens, if not hundreds of remedies, articles, quotes, and images all relating to the terrible, not so nice world of P.M.S.

The quotes mock us…but made me laugh…for the first time all day.

The images tell us what we should eat…avoiding all cravings…

Not gonna happen. 

I will just head back over to the page of all things gooey and chocolate.

The articles… after reading one or two remedies/cures/explanations, my oh-so-charming self started saying “blah, blah, blah…I get it” (not very nice of me, but it is sadly how it goes).

I despise this time of the month.

But fear what the next chapter of middle-aged hormonal imbalance will bring…so I guess I will tolerate this chapter a little longer, and try to be on my best behavior.

I will take my vitamins. I will avoid all things sweet. I will not drink alcohol. I will smile and persevere… 

All lies.

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At least I am being honest.

 I will admit the card quotes on Pinterest are truly making me smile…

Bonus for day one of Alter Ego vs. The Real Me.

 I will try my best to be good…in a bad sort of way.

Utah.

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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.

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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.

. buddha      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.

He Would Be Proud.

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He Would Be Proud.

Yesterday was a big day for me.  Like a REALLY big deal.  Not as a big as delivering a baby or getting married “big”…more like important. More like accomplishment.

I told my story in one of my first blogs a few months back, of my journey to find good health for myself…I needed it badly for peace of mind that I wasn’t going crazy…wasting days, months, and even years of dieting and being frustrated with myself.  I was beginning to believe it wasn’t my thyroid, or age…it was the dreaded depression that was a symptom of all of those possible illnesses that I suffered from.  I was sad…I wanted to give up on myself. I couldn’t stand to look at myself anymore…who was this person that I have become?

I am not that mommy that runs five miles every morning or gets to work out in some fancy gym for an hour uninterrupted. The extent of my workouts was walking with one or two or all four of my kids to any random destination to maybe, just maybe, take a pound off…or firm up a few of those cottage cheese curds on my thighs…but no such luck.

So I took things into my own hands last year…first on my own, then with the help of a naturopathic nutritionist. I was skeptical at first. And this was my last shot. But I knew I had to believe in this.

I knew HE would believe in this.

My Grandfather…gosh, what can I say about this man? Nothing bad for starters. He was perfect…I know that isn’t possible. I am sure he had flaws that my Grandmother or his children would admit to, but growing up I never heard them say anything bad about him…nothing.

His eyes twinkled with happiness. With pride. With optimism. He was just simply amazing…and I adored him.

I titled this blog for him because he would have been 95  this Sunday. And I know he would be proud.

I miss him terribly.

He was a huge advocate of eating healthy and taking vitamins.  He taught me so much. And now I am truly embracing something that I surely know would fascinate him.  I can see me telling him about what my doctor does, and what she believes…he would ask plenty of questions. And listen to all of what I told him. I never met someone who absolutely absorbed everything that someone said, like he did.

He would be proud of me yesterday.

And this is why…

I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s (finally) and Rheumatoid Arthritis a few months back. I have suffered in silence and out loud for years…joints aching , fingers not bending. Bloating, high blood pressure, endless back pain…the list was endless…

I started seeing a Rheumatologist when my General doctor said “I give up” too many possible Autoimmune disorders for her to handle.

I went for a follow up with my Rheumatologist yesterday after countless blood tests and x-rays months ago.

I had been dreading this day.

I saw the results…not all bad, but not great either. I went in with my “dukes” up.

I was going to refuse his prescriptions. I was not going to poison this cleaned out vessel with pills that had more warning labels on them than  a pack of cigarettes.

Oh so sweet to have a doctor lean back in his chair and look at all the symptoms I came in with months ago, and to then ask me how I am doing today…

and I  state that I am wonderful.

Occasional stiffness or pain, but the weight melted off…my blood pressure yesterday was its lowest in years.  He looked at me with a smirk and said-

 Hhmm… How did you do this?

After I explained, he said that he had no reason to put me on any toxic medicines that more than likely would counteract all my efforts and that it sounds as if the Rheumatoid Arthritis is not a problem for my body anymore.

re·mis·sion

(rĭ-mĭsh′ən)

n.

1. Abatement or subsiding of the symptoms of a disease.
2. The period during which the symptoms of a disease abate or subside

And to think of all those years I suffered. Of all those years in tears and being frustrated. And within a few months I literally changed my life.

he would be oh so proud of me. I know this to be true.

FLEAS.

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FLEAS.

It seems appropriate to me after not being able to write for weeks now, to title my latest blog about the reason…Fleas.

I am hoping this will be short and sweet, but that could unleash some bad karma on me, as things seem to be settling down finally with our “house guests”.

We didn’t invite them. There was no party for them to crash…but they came in like gangbusters. One by one (maybe ten by ten), and slowly decided to take over our lives.

Creepy, crawly, or jumpy-  whichever way you look at it, they have officially ruined the last month or so of our lives.

Instead of thinking of something clever to write or something relevant to Karma being a “good thing”, I spent almost every free second online researching how destroy these little buggers “nicely”.

My husband doesn’t want to play “nice” anymore…he has had it. The kids have had it. Bites galore on one of my children, is enough to drive us mad. The feeling of them on our skin getting ready for the attack…insane…AND gross.

I refuse to bomb the house and expose us to any more chemicals, not to mention packing up every blessed item in our bedrooms, kitchen, bathrooms, etc. We may still need to do it, but I am hoping the salt and baking soda all over every inch of our  hardwood floors and carpets is doing the trick along with all sorts of pills/ointments/combing I can administer…the only bonus to my floors looking like a bad baking experiment or drug lord’s den, is the instant ice skating rink for the kids and kittens.

The feeling of bugs in our hair or beds is in our imagination, for sure…I hope…

We all stand around looking at the mess these little uninvited guests have done in the last few weeks…it is unreal.

My house hasn’t been this clean in ages, yet still feels so dirty. My vacuum is my new best friend, as well as a few drinks every night after endless washing and bagging things up to throw outside…will it ever end?

Apparently it will. From the countless message boards I have scoured, to articles online and friends’ advice on social media…they all sympathize with us, having gone through it, survived, and can now tell me how to do things…so that is the light at the end of this nightmare…

Maybe my next blog will be about giving advice on HOW TO GET RID OF FLEAS FOREVER…

But I won’t get ahead of myself…